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luckykiwiii101 · 2 days ago
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ENTER THE GOD STATE
XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL
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ィ⠀Anything they can do, you can do better⠀࿐
p.s. if “God” makes you uncomfortable you can just switch that out with “creator” instead! long post ahead!!!
NOTE: God self/real you/true self/Inner self/I AM are ALL the same thing so don’t get confused.
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ィ⠀TABLE OF CONTENTS⠀࿐
WHAT IS THE GOD STATE (AKA, I AM STATE)?
RID THE IDEA OF THE 3D & TIME
DETACHING FROM YOUR 3D “SELF” & CONCEPT OF TIME
HOW TO ENTER THE GOD STATE
Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip girl here. And before you start talking, I know what you’re thinking.
“The God State???” sounds intimidating…to everyone but God. And with humans comes along failure, emotions and frustration. Now i’m not saying that you aren’t human. Yes, you are physically human (only if you want to be), but you are so much more than that.
Luckily for you, I exist, and i’ll show you how to identify with your god self in a New York minute!
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ィ⠀WHAT IS THE GOD/I AM STATE?⠀࿐
But first of all, what is the “god state”? Ask yourself, “who am I?” A lazy bum who doesn’t want to give themselves their dream lives? Surprisingly incorrect. Now who are you really? Who is the one aware of that blank space when you’re “sleeping”? Who is the one desiring? And who is the one giving?
I want you to close your eyes. Focus on the darkness behind your eyes. In your mind, repeat the phrase “I am”. Don’t condition anything to it. Simply just, “I am”. Focus on just being aware. Focus on just being. Just being. Being. You are simply just aware. And that is the I am. Before you are anything, you are “I am”. e.g. I AM beautiful. I AM intelligent. I am comes before everything. That is who you truly are. And you choose what to condition it to. Instead of choosing “I am ugly.” You can choose “I am beautiful.” And this “I am” is what we call the inner self. It is not a new concept to learn. You are familiar with it. It is simply just the you who has it all. I AM is the only power that exists, which is you. You cannot separate yourself from I AM. I AM = aware of being. And all you are, is aware. Pure consciousness. That’s all you are. And when you condition something unwanted to I am, you give that unwanted thing power.
In short, the best way to describe the “I am” state is the void state. The I am state and the void state are the exact same thing! That omnipotence “in” the void state is YOU! YOU are the one giving! When you affirm or whatever for your desires in the void state, it’s not the void state that holds the power, it is YOU who holds the power. YOU are the void state. Faceless and formless. Devoid of the concept of 3D and time. And that’s why you can be anything you want to be. That is the real you. Not this 3D you. That’s why when you’re “in” the void state, whatever you decide you have materialises instantly, because in that state, you are no longer bound by human limitations. You are just purely you.
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ィ⠀GET RID OF THE IDEA OF THE 3D & TIME⠀࿐
The key to entering the God state is to get rid of the idea of the 3D and time. By this I mean, to stop expecting something to happen, and to stop counting the days since you’ve started persisting, and feeling discouraged when it’s been a week and the 3D shows you nothing. You need to realise that time is simply just a concept made by humans. It doesn’t exist. At all. You can have anything you want right NOW. And you do.
I know that eventually you want to experience having your desires in the 3D. But first, you experience having them in the 4D. But the whole point is that you ALREADY have it. Now. Not later. And too many of you hold the idea of getting it later in the 3D, without even realising. You should be able to go back to imagination and feel fulfilled no matter what.
In the God state, all that exists to you is being omnipotent (all powerful) and having everything you want NOW in imagination. There is no concept of the 3D & time in the God state. And that is what makes it so powerful. You know that that God self is the real you. The inner self. And that is who you fully identify with. Not time. Not the 3D.
When you get rid of this silly idea of time and the 3D, you realise your power and the true meaning of having it now, and not waiting for anything. You become indifferent to the 3D. You don’t have what you want in the 3D? Didn’t even notice because that’s not the reality that I identify myself with. That doesn’t matter because it has nothing to do with you, because you don’t identify with it, because you know better than to identify with something that isn’t you. You are not waiting for anything because you are God, and you already have everything you could desire.
This point keeps FLYING over your heads because if you TRULY understand how powerful you are and the FACT that you already have it, you simply wouldn’t be procrastinating and doubting yourself. Because there is NOTHING to do and there is NOTHING to doubt. All of that nonsense comes from your human self (outer self) and you keep accepting it as final! If you have the urge to check the 3D for results, you do not understand. If you’ve been asking where your manifestation is, you do not understand. If you give yourself time crunches, you do not understand. If you are asking bloggers for help, you do not understand. If you expect something to happen, you do not understand. If you are waiting for something, you do not understand. If manifesting requires effort, you do not understand. If manifesting is mentally draining, you do not understand. If you’re feeling impatient, you do not understand. If you’re feeling discouraged, you do not understand. If you forgot to persist for a day and then spiral, you do not understand. If you get worried when you “fall out” of the state, you do not understand. If you think its possible to fall out of the state, you also do not understand. If you view manifesting as a process, you do not understand. If you think that manifestation is not instant, you do not understand.
You will never stop being God. You cannot fall out of your desired state when you acknowledge that you are God. That’s like saying you’ve lost your own consciousness. You are consciousness itself. You cannot lose it. You can’t fall out of it. You will always have it. You are it. Your consciousness is EVERYTHING. That means that you ARE your desires. There is absolutely NOTHING outside of you. Every little thing that you dare to put on a pedestal other than yourself (the audacity!) is WITHIN YOU! That huge mansion the size of Monaco? It’s within you. That celebrity s/o? Within you. Desired appearance? Within you. Fairy wings? Within you. Teleporting to planet mars? Within you. Waking up with a completely new life? Within you. Everything and anything you could possibly imagine? Within you. Oh don’t tell me that wasn’t obvious! So you may ask yourself…“why does it feel so far away?”
The two biggest human limitations are the 3D & time, and you are not going to break free from those limitations until you realise that the I AM does NOT experience the 3D & time. In the void state, you do not experience the 3D or time. At all. In that moment you are in your PUREST form. You are faceless and formless. Conditioned to absolutely nothing, just being aware of existing. So where am I going with this? Let me dumb it down for you. The I AM does NOT experience the 3D & Time. REAL YOU = I AM. Therefore, the REAL YOU does NOT experience the 3D or TIME. Got it? Ok now let’s bring manifestation into this. Here’s how the equation SHOULD BE:
1. REAL YOU/I AM: “Hm, I want to manifest xyz. I now decide that I have xyz. Therefore I have xyz.”
2. REAL YOU/I AM: Good thing that I do not experience the 3D or time at all, so I have no limitations and don’t have to look at the 3D for proof or track time. I understand that I only have what I desire in imagination because that is my real reality since I AM the creator of everything. I truly understand that I have my desire right now because I AM. -> (This part MAJORLY corresponds with THIS POST! Read it if you haven’t or chances are that you will not understand the concept of having it NOW).
3. REAL YOU/I AM: *Experiences having xyz instantly because limitations do not exist in the I AM, and there is no 3D & time to tell me otherwise because it doesn’t exist in the I AM *
4. REAL YOU/I AM: *3D conforms after persisting in desired assumption(s)* Cool…wasn’t expecting or waiting for anything. I really am limitless. It didn’t even bother me that I didn’t see movement in the 3D or time, I just knew I had my desire(s) right now because I AM and that’s all that matters.
And here’s how your outer self treats manifestation:
1. OUTER YOU: “Hm, I want to manifest xyz. I now decide that I have xyz. Therefore I have xyz.”
2. OUTER YOU: *2 days pass* The 3D still hasn’t conformed. It’s okay! It will conform soon. *2 more days pass* I still don’t have my manifestation. Where is it??? It’s already been four days!!!
3. OUTER YOU: *spirals because the 3D didn’t conform, and the magical 3 days have already passed* *fails to understand that the 3D is only a reflection of the 4D* *views manifestation from the outer self and acts surprised when they are blinded by limitations*
4. OUTER YOU: What am I doing wrong? Let me read more posts and ask bloggers for help.
See how that doesn’t make sense..? When you are manifesting, and you view it from your outer self, consider yourself an idiot. As Edward Art said before, “the outer man sees nothing but limitations.” And when you view manifestation from that outer self, you are surrounded by nothing but those limitations (3D & Time). But when you view manifestation FROM your INNER (God) Self, you don’t experience any limitations at all.
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ィ DETACHING FROM UR 3D SELF & CONCEPT OF TIME⠀࿐
I’m not talking about derealisation or anything like that. I am talking about tapping into your true self. It’s not some sort of magical “click” that you’ll feel. Or maybe for some of you it might. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you KNOW who you actually are. Beyond this physical vessel (body).
I hope you realise that the only reason i’m telling you to unidentify with these things is because they genuinely have nothing to do with you. They aren’t you. And it’s hard watching you imbeciles sabotage yourselves over something that has nothing to do with you. I’m not trying to get you to convince yourselves that you have your desires. I’m getting you to understand that you already do! It’s the most important understand of all. I’ve seen blogs saying “be delusional”…how about you start being the opposite and believing in what’s actually real. The only time you’re being delusional is when you’re taking the 3D for an answer. And as you know by now, the 3D doesn’t exist to a purely conscious being, in other words, you.
“The 3D doesn’t exist to a purely conscious being, in other words, you.” This may be the second most important understanding of all, after creation is finished. Because the whole point of the law of assumption is that your 3D self is NOT the one experiencing your desires, it is the INNER SELF who has it! The INNER self does NOT experience the 3D AT ALL!!! So WHY on GOD’S GREEN EARTH would YOU (GOD) fool yourself by the delusions of the 3D when you KNOW that it isn’t you. You are NOT supposed to be experiencing your desires in the 3D, and you HAVE to come to terms with that. All of your desperation to have your desires in the 3D comes from the OUTER SELF who DESIRES to experience it in the 3D!! All of your FULFILLMENT of already having your desires in the 4D comes from THE INNER SELF (REAL/GOD SELF) who ALREADY POSSESSES IT, BECAUSE YOU ARE IT!! YOU ARE YOUR DESIRES BECAUSE THERE IS SIMPLY NOTHING OUTSIDE OF YOU!!! Therefore nothing is out of reach (don’t you find comfort in the fact that all your desires come from within you, and you are the only one who can grant yourself with them?), and there is no waiting for anything, because there is NO concept of time in the I AM except NOW! Therefore you can only have your desires NOW. Hence, the fact that “waiting” simply doesn’t exist. To wait, is to be illogical, and a fucking dumbarse too.
You realise the 3D is YOUR creation right?! Like, YOURS. Your actual CREATION. The world is LITERALLY your oyster, whether you like it or not. The 3D has been bending over backwards for you ever since you were born. Listening to you. Reflecting you. Reflecting what you condition to your I am-ness. You are supposed to be viewing manifestation as your REAL self. That is why it is so easy. You WILL struggle if you view manifestation from your OUTER self, who is ruthlessly surrounded by limitations and “contradictions”. It would be heartless to ask you to just ignore that, and blame you cause you can’t. Since the 3D & time do not exist to the REAL you (pure consciousness/I AM), there is nothing to contradict your new story. Unless you let your outer self take the wheel, and drive right off a cliff. Read that again, there is nothing to contradict your new story. There is nothing to contradict your new story. There is nothing to contradict your new story. Why? Because the real you is devoid of the concept of the 3D & time. It doesn’t exist to you. Yes, it exists to the 3D you (your physical body), but you don’t identify with that anymore. (It would be pretty pathetic to view yourself as nothing but your body wouldn’t it…) Therefore, the 3D & time do not exist to you, there is only now. You can only have your desires now. Right now. Not later. Now. In imagination. Now. When you are manifesting, you are not supposed to be viewing it from your 3D self because that is not the one who has it.
Do you FINALLY understand what you’re doing “wrong”? You can do no “wrong” in the god state. Whichever way you want to manifest is the correct way AS LONG AS you feel that you have it. You may not feel too great about it at first but I promise you’ll get there. You just accept these limitations and roll with it. I’m not telling you to IGNORE. I’m telling you to unidentify. And if you’ve read my previous golden posts, you’d understand that those are two very different things. If you apply this post that you’re reading right now, to my full guide post on manifestation, you will truly realise your God self. And you will truly understand how painfully easy manifestation is and you’ll have a good laugh at your old self for thinking it was difficult or required effort. God doesn’t need effort. Some may tell you that “you’re the only one stopping yourself” but they’re wrong. It’s everything that isn’t you that’s really “stopping” you, the only part you play in that, is by letting them and choosing to identify with it. All the real you is doing, is rooting for you.
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ィ⠀HOW TO ENTER THE GOD STATE⠀࿐
Now for the big question. How exactly do you enter the god state? Surprise surprise, but it’s actually not something to “enter”. It is something to realise. And after this post, you should be able to pinpoint exactly who you truly are. SO that you can finally start viewing manifestation FROM your real self, instead of your human body surrounded by limitations. Remember, “The outer man sees nothing but limitations.” Now i’m going to carry you through realising your god (true) self. All you have to do is sit back and listen.
STEP 1: UNDERSTANDING
First and foremost, there is NOTHING more important than understanding who you truly are. But i’m sure we’ve clearly established that in this post. So for once, can we move on from this victim mindset? The outer you sees nothing but limitations, but God holds nothing but power. So I ask very nicely, before you proceed with any further steps, make sure you fully understand everything I have told you in this post (You are God/Creator, You already have your desires, your desires are within you, and that the 3D does not exist to a purely conscious being, only to the outer you (physical body). With these understandings, also comes with the understanding that there is nothing to get or wait for, so when you scrap the idea of the 3D and time, you won’t have a desire for confirmation and conforming of the 3D. This is what happens when the point actually doesn’t fly right over your head. Isn’t that refreshing?
STEP 2: REALISATION/REMEMBRANCE
Realisation? Don’t be fooled or intimidated. This part is extremely simple. All of them are. All you have to do is remember who you truly are. Now that you know what the I AM is from the first part of this post, I want you to feel it. All you have to do is close your eyes. All you have to focus on, is just being aware.
Quote from the first section of this post: “I want you to close your eyes. Focus on the darkness behind your eyes. In your mind, repeat the phrase “I am”. Don’t condition anything to it. Simply just, “I am”. Focus on just being aware. Focus on just being. Just being. Being. You are simply just aware. And that is the I AM.”
Focus on that feeling of just purely existing. Just being purely aware. You are NOT your physical body. When I say “you”, you should know that I mean the I AM. I AM is ALWAYS aware. Tie that feeling of awareness to the feeling of being God. Feel yourself to be all powerful. You will naturally feel inclined to feeling powerful in that state because you are finally acknowledging your real self who is all powerful. To sum up this step, and for further understanding (not optional!! i see you), read my YOU ARE VOID post. I don’t care if you’ve read it before. Read it again. Now that you FEEL yourself to be I AM, let’s move onto the next part.
STEP 3: APPLICATION
Now, for the final part. The part all of you seem to hate most. But the most important part of all. Application. And what does that mean exactly? Putting all the information that you know to good use. The best part is, you don’t even have to lift a finger. The worst part is, you still somehow find a way to procrastinate. But that ends now.
So here’s what’s going to happen. Randomly throughout your day, you will remind yourself of who you truly are, which is I AM. You will do the short “exercise” above, in the second step to remind yourself of who you actually are, beyond this physical body. All you are doing is reminding yourself.
You are not “manifesting” becoming God, you are coming to terms with the fact that you already are. And all you are doing is feeling it. Before you ask, no, you are not “feeling it real” when doing this. You are literally just feeling yourself to be pure awareness which is a fact. The sole purpose of this step is to REMIND yourself that you are God, so that you can stop being blinded by human limitations.
The purpose of this? As you are reminding yourself that you are god, you will actually start to “realise” it. Even though after reading this post, you know that you are god, I could understand why some may not yet feel themselves to be god. Our whole lives we’ve been blinded by human limitations left right and centre, especially when in terms of manifestation. You will genuinely laugh in the face of the 3D & time, without a care for it because you know that it is irrelevant to you, because you are so much bigger than it. You are God, and all this is, is your simple creation. You are finally viewing manifestation for what it truly is, from the viewpoint of your TRUE self. Your God self is the one who has the desires, not the outer self. And now you’re finally going to view manifestation from your true self, the one who truly has the desire(s), and the only one who can truly experience having. Also, being in the god state helps you get rid of the idea of having to do methods, put in effort and there even being a “right way” to manifest. All you have to do is know that you are the creator and that you have all your desires. In the god state, everything is effortless.
And as for dealing with the 3D? As long as you stay loyal to knowing who you truly are, everything will be more than okay.
MOST IMPORTANT UNDERSTANDINGS:
If you have magically failed to understand that:
1. CREATION IS FINISHED.
2. THE 3D DOES NOT EXIST TO A PURELY CONSCIOUS BEING, IN OTHER WORDS, YOU.
3. THE ONLY CONCEPT OF TIME IN THE I AM IS NOW, THEREFORE, WAITING DOES NOT EXIST.
4. YOU ARE NOT “THINKING AS IF”, YOU ARE THINKING “AS IT ALREADY IS.” (you literally have it. like genuinely actually have it. it’s literally here in imagination which is your true reality…there is nothing to pretend or desire to have).
5. THERE IS NO “RIGHT WAY” TO MANIFEST. GOD DOES WHATEVER GOD WANTS. DO WHATEVER REMINDS YOU THAT YOU ARE GOD AND THAT YOU HAVE YOUR DESIRES. DO IT YOUR WAY.
6. LASTLY, IN THE GOD STATE, NOTHING FEELS IMPOSSIBLE OR DIFFICULT. IN THE GOD STATE, YOU KNOW WITHOUT A DOUBT.
You may struggle without these understandings. And they are very, very easy to understand. There is no failure to understand, there is only failure to listen & apply.
IF I COULD SUMMARISE THIS POST INTO 11 QUOTES:
✩ “god state = I AM (real you)”
✩ “the 3D doesn’t exist to a purely conscious being, in other words, you.” (There is no concept of the 3D & time in the god state).
✩ “YOU are the void state. Faceless & formless.”
✩ “The two biggest human limitations are the 3D & time, and you are not going to break free from those limitations until you realise that the I AM does NOT experience the 3D & time.”
✩ “The I AM does NOT experience the 3D & Time. REAL YOU = I AM. Therefore, the REAL YOU does NOT experience the 3D or TIME.” (In other words, the real you experiences no limitations).
✩ “when you view manifestation FROM your INNER (God) Self, you don’t experience any limitations at all.”
✩ “I’m not trying to get you to convince yourselves that you have your desires. I’m getting you to understand that you already do!”
✩ “There is absolutely NOTHING outside of you. Every little thing that you dare to put on a pedestal other than yourself is WITHIN YOU!”
✩ “Because the whole point of the law of assumption is that your 3D self is NOT the one experiencing your desires, it is the INNER SELF who has it! The INNER self does NOT experience the 3D AT ALL!!! So WHY would YOU (GOD) fool yourself by the delusions of the 3D when you KNOW that it isn’t you.”
✩ “Tie that feeling of awareness to the feeling of being God. Feel yourself to be all powerful.” (Now you feel yourself to be I AM).
✩ “in the god state, nothing feels impossible or difficult.” (my personal favourite).
SUMMARY: The 3D & time are the two biggest (only) human limitations when it comes to manifestation. Once you get rid of those two concepts, you unlock your God (real) self and realise that you truly and whole heartedly have it now in imagination because it is the only reality. You are I AM. You are the void state. You are nothing but pure consciousness. You are all powerful. You are God/Creator. Drill this post into your brain, read it over and over again until you FULLY understand.
P.S. I AM is the only power that exists, which is you. XOXO
- gossip girl
XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL
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XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL
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reignpage · 1 day ago
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Art Student!Choso
Renaissance: worship
Word Count: 5.4k Contents: 18+ mdni, plot with smut, mostly fluffy, direct continuation of the part 5 smau, and concludes pre-relationship Choso's story, not proofread so idk how much sense this makes, let me know if it’s complete bs and I’ll redo it or something
You’re staring at the most beautiful mural you think has ever been created. It’s made up of harsh strokes of ash, curving and spiralling into one another, sprawling across the entire back wall of the gym. The smudges and the streaks breeze from corner to corner, bouncing along the edges as they create layers of shadows which seem so thick you could feel it from where you stand. 
There, in the centre, you can make out a face. It’s contorted, mouth stretched inhumanly, eyes bulging and threatening to pop out. Fragmented and clawing itself, tearing skin and pulling until its face morphs into something you can’t quite make out. Dissolving into the fray, with the stark chalk, it spirals into frenzied strokes, suffocating itself. 
A gasp leaves you when you step back, taking more of it in at once, and you see amidst the smoke and the chaos, symbols, jagged and torn up. They make up even more faces, just as contorted and as uncanny, all stretched out in silent screams that pierce your soul and render your knees weak. 
It’s haunting. 
You had no idea you would walk in to find this when you were searching for Choso. And when you meet his eyes from above, leaning against the railing, you think you might actually fall to your knees. It’s the same eyes that match the big ones on the wall, both equally broken, accusing and full of heat as it never wavers from yours. 
There are so many things left unsaid, things that are desperate to get out, to be screamed at him so he’ll understand, so he’ll know. But only silence remains. 
Choso doesn’t say anything, just lets the moonlight streaming from the windows encase you both in half light, half-darkness. You can’t see the smudges on his hands, but you can see the yearning in his eyes, like he too has so much to say, so much for you to understand and accept.
Click. 
Both of your eyes dart to the entrance, there’s a security guard, holding a flashlight, aimed right you. There’s no way to escape. That’s what your thumping heart is telling you; you’ve been caught. And you haven’t done anything wrong.
“Hey! Did you do this?” He yells. 
You’re rendered speechless, frozen from the realisation that there’s no way out of this. Without looking at him, can’t bear to discover what expression he’s wearing now that it’s all unravelling between you, you walk to the guard and let him drag you of there. 
You don’t look back. 
——
“What would possess you to vandalise private property?” The Dean questions. 
His bald head is shiny, and the light’s reflection is all you can focus on as he thumps his fist against the mahogany desk separating you both. Thank God, too, because by the looks of that bulging vein on his forehead, he's pretty keen on giving you a lesson or two. It’s just you and him in his stately, stuffy office. The walls are lined with tall, dark wood bookshelves, which in turn are filled with old, leather-bound books in perfect condition, not a single dust in sight. 
“I’m sorry.”
“It goes without saying, I’m sure, that I’m disappointed in you,” he ignores you, voice gruff and measured, all condescending and pretentious. You’re convinced that’s not even his natural accent. “You have the talent, the potential, to do anything with your gifts. Your works have won many awards, and you could one day find them in museums or galleries across the world. Instead, this —this is how you choose to leave your mark?”
The chair squeaks when you shift uncomfortably, and your eyes choose to scan his meticulous desk, as opposed to his beady ones. There’s not a single paper angled wrong, no pens misaligned, not a smudge or even a water mark. 
“You’ve disgraced this fine institution. Our beloved Eden University for the Excellent has stood as a beacon for ambition, sophistication and innovation! And with every act of ‘artistic rebellion’ with your ‘cursed death paintings’, or the like, you have threatened everything we have built for centuries!”
You could try and defend yourself, could rebuff the accusations since you are, of course, innocent. But, well, the evidence is damning: you were at the scene of the crime, you’re an art student, you have attended practically every protest on campus, have liked posts from Cursed Womb’s fan-pages, and damn it, you had paint all over your shirt and hands.
You’re fucked. 
He leans back in his chair, sighing as he folds his glasses onto the desk. “There are no excuses; none I will accept. Therefore, it is with the deepest regret that I hereby — “
The door slams open. 
You both jump. 
“Dean Hanami,” a sneer projects through the office and you recognise it immediately as belonging to a guy that knocked on your door and glared at you as if you were dirt on his shoe. “We have much to discuss.”
When you twist in your seat, you’re alarmed to find three men: Sukuna in a newer looking jacket than you remembered, an old man in a suit, and a guy you haven’t seen in almost two weeks. 
Choso’s not looking at you, he’s not even entering the room, choosing instead to hang around by the doorway. 
“Mr. Ryomen, I am in the middle of a meeting,” the Dean splutters. 
Sukuna pokes your shoulder with a pen he picked up from the desk, looking over at you with complete disgust, like you’re a little cockroach. Still as rude as ever, he’s signalling for you to leave and as you look between the two men, one much older than the other, you choose to go with your instincts and rush out of there. 
“This is how it’s going to work,” he drawls, sliding into your seat and snapping his fingers at the man in a suit, “you’re going to give back everything I want, and you’re going to let this Cursed Womb farce go.”
The last thing you hear is the sheer humiliation of the Dean’s defeated stammering. You close the door behind you. 
Without looking at Choso, you walk down the hallway. 
“Y/n, we should talk,” he follows beside you. 
“Now you want to talk?” You sigh. You know you’re not being fair. Counting to ten, you try a softer approach. “Listen, Choso, it's been a long morning. Can we have this talk somewhere private? These hallways are so depressing.”
He nods, his pigtails moving with him. Wordlessly, he leads you outside, to his parked car, it’s all shiny and sleek, classic Ryomen money, and you get into the passenger seat. 
It’s odd being in such close proximity with him when he’s avoided you for so long, but you try to get comfortable regardless, ignoring the elephant in the room. There’s a Cursed Womb sized hole between you and there’s so much to be said but you’re afraid you’ll push him, that you’ll say the wrong thing and everything will be for nought; you’ll go back to being strangers, passing each other by, just like last year. 
And, whatever you feel for him, you just can’t let that happen. 
“Choso,” you begin, voice soft, “what happened? What happened between us?”
Driving, he doesn’t dare look at you, can only chew on the inside of his cheek before seemingly deciding on the right words. “I liked you. From the very beginning, I liked you. People either like me ‘cause of my family or 'cause of rumours, but you’re one of the very few people that actually reached out, saw me as an equal.”
You’re silent. He’s opening up in a way he has never before and you don’t dare disturb his flow, like one would watch a Master at work. Everything about him is compelling, the whites of his knuckles as he grips the steering wheel harder than he should, the furrow of his brows as he thinks hard, the way his gaze slides over to you, just not meeting your eyes, and even the way he studies you, in just your thin jumper and jeans and turns up the heater without asking.
Trees fly by, everything a blur as you keep your gaze fixed solely on him. He drives pretty smoothly, unlike you. You're always pressed right up against the wheel, eyes darting to every mirror like a car would appear in the millisecond you looked away. But him...he drives like it's second nature, with one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear stick.
“Despite me not being very open and particularly approachable I guess, you still made the effort to reach out, to include me in discussions, to ask if I’m coming to class — even lecturers have stopped asking. And you’re very smart! I like how passionate you are, you’re so full of great ideas, practically beaming with them. You never lose your optimism even when your art gets critiqued too harshly.”
This is the first time anyone’s ever described you like this, like he appreciates you by pure virtue of your existence and the way he sees your hard work, the strength it takes to get back up that you hadn’t recognised in yourself -- it feels like the way one would appreciate Starry Night. 
You can tell he practised this speech.
“But,” there’s a tremble in his voice and it makes your hand twitch, “you don't like me. Not like how I like you. And it makes me upset. Because you're so great and nice and pretty. Not that I like you because of your appearance, even though you have a very nice body. I mean that respectfully! Okay, actually just forget I said that. I like you for lots of different reasons. And I've been trying to get you to see me as more than your classmate or just your friend. But it's all pointless because you like Cursed Womb.”
“Choso, you are Cursed Womb.”
The car screeches to a halt. 
His hand flies out, pressing hard on your chest to stop you from flying forward. Thank goodness you’re wearing your seatbelt. And thank goodness the road is empty. 
“What the fuck!”
“Sorry!” He pants. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise.”
Like you’ve been possessed, you laugh. It’s more a cackle than anything else to be honest, but the look of utter shock and disbelief on his face is making you tear up, your sides hurting as you cradle them. “Oh my god, Choso, you should have seen your face. HA!”
He’s panicking, hands waving in the air as he tries to decide between lifting your hair up to inspect for damage and going to the steering wheel so he can drive off to safety, where the chances of a car accident caused by your blunt mouth are slim. Conflicted, he decides to keep them in his lap as he winces at your chortles. You’re finding this way too funny. 
“You’re being mean,” he pouts. 
Wiping tears from your eyes, you’re desperately trying to calm down, trying to school your features into something more neutral or, better yet, something serious so you can have a mature, adult conversation. But he’s just so adorable you can’t help yourself. 
“Sorry, Choso,” you playfully frown at him, making a puppy dog pout so he’ll cave in. “But be honest here, sweetheart. You didn’t actually think you were slick, did you?”
Like a child, he smacks his steering wheel, all grumpy and upset. “No one else knew.”
“That’s ‘cause no one else tried to know. Sure, people were investigating, trying to piece together clues, but no one really wanted to know; the mystery was addictive, and that’s what peopled liked. But you think you’re the only one who pays attention? I watch you all the time. Plus, your family’s presence today was concrete proof; Sukuna would never do that just because you asked, right? And on top of all of that, you’re not a very good liar, sweet Choso,” you coo. 
He stutters, “B-but you never said. You kept talking about him l-like —"
“Like he’s not you?” You finish for him. 
“Yes! Even that night when I asked you to hang out, you didn’t want to go with me but when I mentioned the painting, you said yes.”
Your hand reaches out to play with a loose lock of hair from his messy pigtails and he lets you, his eyes flutter shut when your hand grazes his cheek. Heart clenching, you sigh again. “I was genuinely busy, Choso. But when you mentioned that ‘your friend’ painted again, I knew that meant trouble. What you do is dangerous, and I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“What about the other time when you didn’t want to have lunch with me? And you just wanted to work?”
You giggle, playfully pulling at his hair, and he has to pretend he’s not getting hard. “Choso, you do realise we have to balance our project on top of our schoolwork, right? Like we have to actually study and work, to meet deadlines?”
Choso pouts again and you smush your thumb against his plump lips, easing away the tension there. All muffled, he whines, “But I wanted to have lunch with you!”
“And we enjoyed sandwiches, did we not? Which by the way, you never paid me back for. But eh, that's okay. Just treat me out next time -- I'm a broke college student.”
He groans, pulling away to smack his head against the wheel. It honks and you laugh again. He’s clearly embarrassed and frustrated and he doesn’t know where to begin, so you try for him. 
“Choso, sweetheart,” you rub his back, “don’t be upset. I’ll be completely honest: I was messing with you. I kinda just wanted to see how far things will go. I mean, I knew as soon as you told me he’s your ‘friend’ that you were Cursed Womb. It’s such an obvious throwaway; I hope you weren’t feeling very proud of yourself.”
Scrunching his nose at you, he sinks back into his seat. The road is still empty, and he doesn’t seem to have any desire to drive off yet. So, you let him take it all in, rubbing his shoulder in pity for the poor guy who was clearly so proud of himself for keeping such a huge secret from everyone. 
“What’s gonna happen with the Dean?” You just realised technically you were expelled or were going to be expelled. No longer a student, you aren’t sure what you would do as a non-student — would you even make a very inspirational contributive member of society?
What’s next? 
Taxes and mortgages?
You shudder. 
Choso grabs your hand, holding it in his lap as he fiddles with your rings, clinking them with his own. His nails are painted black in true male art student fashion and his fingers are so beautifully long and slender you’re not afraid to admit that you’ve stared at them a little too long during clay sculpting class. 
“The family’s going to take care of it. Make it go away like they did when Sukuna beat up some guy who pushed Yuji. Or when I got caught by some other security guard.”
You nodded. “Where does that leave us?”
“Us?”
“There is an us, right, Choso?”
He fiddles with your ring finger, and you try really hard not to notice the hearts in his eyes. “Do you want there to be us? It’s not because I’m Cursed Womb, is it?”
Of course, you don’t blame him for feeling this way; you played around too much, gave him too much power when you really should have made the decisions to begin with, forced him to confront everything that was unspoken between you much sooner. Then there wouldn’t be this awkward energy that's holding him back from meeting your eyes. 
“Choso, I never liked you because you were Cursed Womb. Sure, I liked Cursed Womb. I stand by everything I said — he’s cool, he stands for what’s right, he sends a message and isn’t afraid to put his art out there to be critiqued by the masses. How many people can say that? But I liked him like one likes a pop star! You, on the other hand, I like you as you are. All shy and sweet and considerate. And I know the picture of me was from you, by the way.”
He opens his mouth to argue, and you shut him up with a stern look. 
“We’re project partners, Choso!” You laugh. “I’ve seen your handwriting and the way you write your Cs, you silly silly boy.”
“But you teased me anyways."
With a shrug, you explain, "You liked it."
And then he’s kissing you. 
His seatbelt is off, and you’re being pressed back into your seat, his hands cradling your face. It’s soft and sweet and gentle and it’s so Choso you can only moan in his mouth. He’s holding you like the two lovers of Rodin, with so much care, so much passion, it's leaving you breathless. You feel so much warmth and adoration through every lick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth and every moan of your name he’s breathing into you. 
You push him back, taking your belt off so you can climb into his lap whilst he pushes the seat back. He kisses down your neck, sucking your pulse point and gripping your hip as if he’s scared you’re just a figment of his imagination. And when you grind down on his hard length, he moans your name again. You’re soaking. 
“I’m sorry for teasing you too much.”
With tentative hands, he lifts your sweater up your stomach, searching your eyes for any resistance. You smile and take it off for him. He wastes no time sucking a tit, flicking the hard bud with his tongue and you’re gripping his pigtails. That makes him groan.
“I’ll forgive you if you do one thing for me,” his words are garbled, on account of him trying to swallow the entire globe of your breast, cheeks all puffed up, and you can’t help but press a kiss against his forehead. “Call me Cho again.”
“What?” His teeth graze your sensitive nipple and you arch into him, eyes crossing.
“You only call me Cho when we’re like this, touching in a way we shouldn’t.”
“Do I?” Grinding down on his dick, you tug a pigtail back so you can tilt his face away from your wet tits and back to your mouth. You kiss him again, craving his taste, his warmth. “Sorry…Cho.”
He bucks into your clothed core, straight up to your clit and you’re moaning into each other’s mouths. This isn’t enough, you both need more. Neither of you even care that you’re on the side of a road and it’s midday. 
“I want you,” he whispers, and he’s tearing up, the frustration building up to a point where he’s clawing your jeans off and burying his face between your tits and inhaling deep. “Can I? Can I have you?”
“Of course, Cho. I’m yours,” you kiss his hair. “You can do whatever you want with me, baby.”
Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. 
Because the next thing you know, the seat is folding back and you’re being thrown onto the seat, facing the plush roof. He’s tugging your jeans down, pulling the material as if it’s singlehandedly his worst enemy. You can only rub his head as he frantically looks between your face, your tits and your panties like he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s desperately asking for permission, for guidance. 
“Choso, we can do whatever you want, just take your time.” And then, as an afterthought, you add, “Although, you shouldn’t take too long since we are outside. If we get caught, I’m not sure your family can take care of the charges we’ll face.”
He nods and then with dark, unfocused eyes, he shoves his face between your leg as he kneels on the floor, spreading your thighs with his strong arms. Sniffing is all he does, inhaling deeply and moaning. You blush, pushing his hair from his face. And, as if the urge has gotten too much, he pushes your panties to the side and licks a strip up your slit, from quivering hole to the clit. 
Your back arches off the seat. 
Moans and groans escape you, shaky breaths fanning the air as he sucks your clit, mumbling your name and the vibrations leaves you lightheaded. 
“Tastes so good. Knew you would taste so good.” He pushes in a finger inside and he groans with you when he wriggles it. “So wet, baby. You’re so hot a-and wet and I want to stay here forever.”
He curls his fingers inside, rubbing against that spot inside of you that has you gushing cream all over his mouth, and he laps it up like he’s starved. Just as a car drives past and he dives deeper into you, you find yourself cumming all over his mouth and fingers, clutching his pigtails harder.
"Fuuuuuck, don't stop, Cho!" You ride out your orgasm on his face, spreading your wetness all over his chin and his cheeks, clit bumping against his nose.
Shuffling up, something wet and hard traces your lips. It’s salty. You don’t hesitate to widen your jaw, letting him push his hot and hard length into your throat. It’s an awkward angle, with you laid not fully back and him having to crouch down, but you manage a few suckles before he gets frustrated and embarrassed, and he climbs back down to pet at your pussy. 
"That's just going to have to wait later, I guess," you chuckle.
A blush blanketing his cheeks, he nods and strokes his dick. He must have taken it out when he was licking you. It's long and hard and your body remembers the feel of it in your hands. And Monet! His tip is flushed red, leaking cum like a faucet. How adorable.
You see him lining his beautiful cock to your quivering hole, but you have to press a hand against his chest to still him. “Tut tut, Cho. Do I need to lecture you on the importance of safe sex, silly boy?”
He blushes and pats his pockets with frantic, panicked movements. You sigh. You didn’t bring one either.
“Well, you’re not allowed inside without a condom,” you mutter to his cock, telling it off as if it’s responsible for its owner irresponsibility. “I mean, really, Choso. You’re a grown man, a college student! You should always have condoms, silly.”
“I didn’t think we’d ever be together so I didn’t buy any,” he mumbles, laying down on you so he can hide his sheepish expression in your shoulder. 
The implication warms your chest, making you pout and rub his back. You coo, “Aw, did my baby not want to fuck anyone else? Just me?”
Pushed to his limit, he bites your neck and then quickly soothes it with his tongue as if upset at himself for hurting you. But it’s you who feels the most guilt; you played around too much, teased him too far, and now his hips are making short thrusts against your pussy. He just can’t help himself. It’s as if the magnetic pull of your cunt is too much for a weak man like him. You’re going to have to work very hard to earn his forgiveness even if he’s willingly thrown it at you. 
Starting, of course, by wrapping your legs around his hips and pressing him closer. You whisper, “Make yourself cum on my pussy, Cho.”
He groans. Maybe it’s the seductive way you ordered him to, the vulgar term you used, or perhaps it’s the fact that you called him a nickname he loves to hear. Well, whatever it is, it’s making him whimper in your ear as he thrusts against your lips, coating his length with your juices. His tip bumps against your clit and you both moan. 
“I-I missed you, y/n!” He cries in your ear, warm breath tickling your skin. 
Again and again, he thrusts, still clinging onto you and holding you close. You can feel his desperation, sincerity, and his pre-cum all seeping into your skin. Rolling back, your eyes disappear — this is supposed to be for him, and yet you’re panting too, holding him tight, shirt threatening to rip under your claws. 
The fact that you’re naked and he isn’t is making you sensitive all over, from the way your nipples are rubbing against his chest and how he pinches at one all the way to the mumbling of your name, like a mantra, against your neck. 
You’re going to cum too. 
“Ngh, Cho! Keep going!”
He must have liked that because his thrusting gets more frantic, his cock head meeting your clit again and again and you’re both nearing your high. Your nails dig into his back and he bites your neck to stifle the broken moan that escapes him. Hot ropes of cum paint your stomach and it makes you arch your back once more, eyes closing shut. 
"So warm ngh!" He groans into your ear.
Hips stuttering, he drags out his orgasm like his body can’t help himself and a beat or two passes. He falls on top of you, still muttering your name like his brain has short-circuited and it’s all that’s left in there. 
“You like me better than Cursed Womb, right?”
You laugh. “Cho, you silly man. You’re the same person.”
Choso pushes himself up onto his elbows, slightly out of breath and dazed, a blush highlighting his face tattoo. You kiss him on the nose which brings out what sounds like a mewl from him. He copies the movement, and it tickles you. That makes him smile, still panting. 
“I know, but I want to know who you like better,” he licks a bead of sweat from your forehead and you have to smack his back. 
Sighing, you push him off, concerned over the fact that you’re naked and in a public space. He lets you scramble back to your seat, fixing your panties and leggings and he hands you your jumper. All in silence, you get settled back in. 
He starts the engine, looking a little upset and you have to still his hand with yours. Words aren’t really enough, you know that. So, the only thing to do is to show him. 
“Take us to my place, Cho.”
He’s confused, head tilting and brows scrunched together like a little puppy as you lead him to your dorm room. Whereas you’re practically buzzing with excitement, struggling to get the keys in due to your shaking hands. But you manage and you welcome him in. 
It’s the first time he’s been inside your place — there wasn’t a particular reason why you waited, it was really just because his place is bigger and cooler and generally a much better place to work in. 
Despite it being a pretty standard room, he’s marvelling at the space, eyeing the pictures of your friends strewn across the walls, the fairy lights and the open journal on the table full of your watercolour works. Choso looks like he just entered Santa’s workshop, and you giggle as you press your face in his back, hugging him and swaying you guys side to side. 
“Sorry about the mess, Cho. I didn’t know you’d come over.”
He holds your hands, swaying with you, but his focus is on only one thing. 
There, on your easel, stationed by the window for natural lighting, is a sketch. The lines are messy and criss-crossing, overlapping each other, the lead of the pencil unravelling to create a face loss in thought. It’s tilting its head as its own creation, examining the angles and the proportions, and you can tell it’s completely entranced in its work, losing grip with reality and wholly immersed in their own imagination. 
It’s the kind of expression you’ve decided is most beautiful in all your years of looking and sketching and studying. In all the models, in all the strangers, and in all the works of art you’ve come across, only one figure has captivated you as much it has. 
“Recognise him, Cho Cho?”
Despite the teasing tone of your voice, you’re actually pretty nervous. This has never been a problem for you; you’ve presented your work to countless of people, by virtue of being an art student, you’ve consented to being ripped apart again and again. But this time, you’re feeling a certain kind of insecurity you never have before. 
“Do you like it?”
“This is me?” He breathes out. 
You bury your face harder in his back, feeling a blush creeping up. “Yeah, Cho. I started it back in first year. I never got to finish it because, well, we’re art students and we all have ADHD or whatever. But when we became project partners, I’ve been adding to it, adding lines and details for every time I noticed something new about you. In fact, I was working on it that night you asked me to hang out and I almost turned you down. Sorry about by the way, baby.”
Waving a hand over the general area, you explain further, "At the end of first year, you got that face tattoo, and I struggled all summer adding it in because I only saw it once and wanted to recreate it from pure memory. But I couldn't ever seem to get the proportions right."
"Y-you started drawing me in first year?"
Pressing a kiss to his back and smiling at the flex of his muscles, you think back to a memory. "It wasn't like I was obsessed with you, or anything creepy, I swear. It's just that, you're a pretty handsome dude. The List agrees and well, when I first saw you in the lecture hall, I thought wow, someone needs to capture that guy in a drawing or something. And you know how us artists work — we develop fixations. I guess, you could say you've been my on and off one for a year now."
That was a lot of words and you’re not sure he registered any of it because of how silent he is, but then he’s clasping your hands tightly. And you’re shocked into silence when something cold slides down one of your fingers. On your left hand. Your ring finger. 
“Cho?”
“I think I’m in love with you,” he shakily whispers. 
You want to laugh — it’s such a sudden admission and you’re fairly convinced it’s just that post-nut high. But the way he says it, the way it’s so serious, so real makes you pull away. 
He turns, desperate to see your face. And with another whisper, he admits, “I have one of you too.”
“What?”
“I painted a portrait of you. In my place.”
It strikes you there. You remember. The painting with the tarp over it. That was of you, and he hid it because you were coming over. With a grin, you raise your hand up to eye the golden signet ring on your finger, way too big and threatening to fall off if you don’t hold it tight. 
“We’re a pretty cool duo, aren’t we?”
Choso falls to his knees, pigtails bouncing, an expression of desperation and torment written all over it. He's never looked more beautiful staring up at you. "Please let me be your boyfriend!"
You laugh again, hands on your hips as you shake your head in disbelief. Rolling your eyes playfully, you respond with, "Alright, I guess I can grant you that one wish. Actually, since you gave me two orgasms, I'll give you another one."
He reaches for your hand with his eyes closed and you let him press it against his face. Cupping his cheek, your smile drops and you feel a fire burning inside and explode in your chest when he presses a distressed kiss to your wrist, full of panic like his brain is malfunctioning and he can't settle on one thought or feeling.
Then, his eyelids fly open and meet yours with a clarity that has never been there. Never. Not even since first year when you made eye contact in passing and you couldn't get his face out of your mind. And it's like all the anguish you saw that night is gone, the chalk mural fading from view.
More certain than ever, you know he'll give you all the opportunities you need to finish your portrait of him, and every new one you'll make. And your project will be renewed with a deeper level of teamwork, because you've transcended the definitions of your connection.
“I want to eat you out again.”
And well, who are you to say no to a man on his knees?
488 notes · View notes
ghostedbunnie · 2 days ago
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trouble comes in fours
tf141 x fem!reader reader wants to get rid of her ex and tf141 might have the perfect scare factor
imagine that your ex simply can't take a hint and keeps creeping on your social media so in a desperate attempt to get rid of him the only way you know is gonna work is to scare him off with a new guy. someone he can't even think off challenging.
on a night out with your friends you are venting out your frustrations about it. while you are in the middle of retelling the last time he tried to slide into your DMs the door to the bar open and you can feel the air shift.
the group of 4 guys walk in. most of them have to duck their heads through the doorway. when they settle into a quieter corner that seems to have a great vantage point to overlook the entirety of the bar your friend nudges you. "looks like 4 possible solutions to your problem just walked in."
your eyes go wide and you sputter out that there is no way. the thought of sending a drink to any of them is almost as terrifying as shoving your head into a tank full of piranhas.
the night continues and with every drink, your fear gives into curiousity. what's the worst thing they could do? bring it back? you can just leave before that happens. the alcohol and your friends chip away at you for few minutes before you gather up the courage. you honestly don't even know which one of them you're sending the drink to.
there's a loud pretty boy with a slightly overgrown mohawk wildly gesturing and retelling some story from the looks of it. when the dim light catch his eyes just right they almost glint silver.
another one but great deal calmer sits opposite, he has a killer smile with slight dimples. just the sight of those dimples could make panties drop.
next to him is a possibly older guy around 40s you'd wager, you can't see his face clearly because half of it is hidden underneath a hat and the other under a very impressive beard. but even from the little you can see the rug burn from that beard would definitely be worth it. simply based on the commanding air around him.
in the corner next to the loud-mouth sits a shadow. honestly in your slight drunk daze you almost missed him in his dark hoodie, pants and face mask. you don't see him drink but the drink in front of him does magically disappear anyway. and whenever you turn around from gawking you swear you can feel someone's stare. but as you get the chills you tell yourself it's probably the a/c blaring.
imagine your surprise when the bartender sends 4 drinks to the table and when you look back to asses the situation you have 4 (well 3 as the big boy in the corner doesn't touch the drink but inclines his head at you) miming a clinking motion while sipping on the drinks.
the mortification doesn't end because when your friends abandon you for some more dance time and you turn to get up to the bathroom you walk straight into a hard chest of the pretty boy. he calms your apologies from running into him with a smile. "wanted ta thank you for the drink, bonnie."
heat rushes to your face as you try to somehow talk your way out of this mess because what seemed like a great idea when your head was swimming with 9 drinks is starting to seem a lot worse now that you are slowly sobering up.
"nothing ta worry 'bout. come sit with us. it feels wrong to keep a bonnie lass like yerself all alone."
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gloomwitchwrites · 3 days ago
Note
Hi hii!
New follower here!
Love your writings, I love how you write for each of the TF141 my men 😌.
Just wanted to hop in and ask how would you think each of the men would react if they found out their SO has a MAGNIFICENT singing voice. 😊
Oki that’s it haha. 😅
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Hi! Hello! At the time of you sending this in, you were a new follower, but it has been a MINUTE! (And by minute I mean several months; y'all I am very backlogged on imagines requests). So, welcome! Hello! Happy you're here!
I adore this ask. It's so CUTE. Love the idea of reader not revealing that they can sing and just surprising them in either very odd or normal ways. Like, reader doesn't think it's a big deal but the guys do!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, swearing, brief suggestive themes, undercover, tf141!reader (Soap's), nondescript nudity, fluff, karaoke, alcohol
Word Count: 1.2k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist
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John Price
John settles against the booth, his gaze roaming over the crowd. Cigar smoke lingers in the air, and the only light comes from tiny candles at each of the tables. His target is here, sitting at a table at the front of the room next to the stage.
You are somewhere behind the scenes—somewhere backstage. It annoys John that you volunteered to do this, to put yourself on display, and it irritates him further that he cares at all. Whatever interest he feels needs to be set aside. You are his coworker—a teammate. It can’t be more than that when the two of you are in the field. It doesn’t matter that it’s his name you moan in the dark.
But you’re the bait—the pretty thing that will catch the target’s interest and reel him in, and that makes John’s blood fucking boil.
The announcer appears on stage, dropping your fake name. The crowd politely claps and John steels himself.
As the curtain opens, John expects you to be clad in something revealing, to parade around and undress further. This club is known for that, but instead, you twinkle like starlight. The dress itself might appear to be nothing but air with the appearance of sheerness, but there is nothing revealed to the naked eye.
No. You’re covered. And you take nothing off.
A live band starts to play. You open your mouth, and beauty emerges, enveloping John like a snug hug.
Every note is magnificent. Gorgeous. You are angelic and seductive in equal measure. A siren on stage luring all in attendance to their end.
How did he not know you could sing like this?
John’s mouth falls open, the whiskey in front of him forgotten.
“Are you hearing this, captain?” Soap’s voice crackles through the earpiece.
“Yeah,” he coughs. “I hear it.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
It’s all quiet on base. Most are down for the night; the only ones awake are on guard at the gates or on routine patrol.
Johnny is freshly showered and ready to go home. All he needs is to check in on you.
With towel hanging loosely on his hips, Johnny discreetly enters the women’s communal showers. He’d never do this, but he knows you’re alone. What he doesn’t expect is to hear your voice. You’re not speaking to yourself—or anyone. The place is completely empty.
You’re…singing.
Actually, singing. And not that weird off-key shit one might do in the shower. This is true singing. Your voice is goddamn gorgeous—angelic.
Johnny stands in silence for a moment, simply listening, allowing the steam from your shower to curl around him just like your voice. His feet begin to move across the floor and then he’s right there in front of the curtain. He yanks it open.
You turn, eyes widening, the song you’re singing becoming a surprised squawk. “Johnny!”
Without looking away, Johnny removes the towel and hangs it up. Stepping inside, he shuts the curtain, trapping you between him and the tile wall.
“You never told me you could sing.”
“You never asked?” you reply, arms covering your breasts.
It’s cute that you’d hide from him like this. He’s seen it all anyway.
Smirking, Johnny places one hand against the wall. Leaning in, he lowers his voice into a gentle coo. “What else are you hiding from me?”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“He’s cute, Johnny.”
Soap beams. Simon has never seen him so happy. “Takes after his mum.”
“Thank fuck for that,” chuckles Simon. “You’re an ugly bloke.” He lightly nudges Johnny’s arm with his elbow. Somehow, the man’s smile widens.
On the sofa, you sit next to Johnny’s wife. She’s transferring their son into your arms. He fusses a bit, tiny fits waving around, face pinched in annoyance.
“Hello,” you coo, your smile so sweet and soft it twists something deep in Simon’s stomach. The infant stretches and makes an irritated gurgle, his face growing red as a tantrum bubbles up. “Oh. None of that now,” you murmur.
There is no panic on your face. Instead of handing him back to his mother, you hold him close, and start to sing. It’s a light melody, a gentle song that even soothes Simon as he listens. The infant hiccups, eyes widening slightly in surprise, and then promptly calms. Those gorgeously blue eyes are focused on your face, completely enthralled.
Simon knows so much about you, but how did he not know this? Johnny’s smile even faulters, his own surprise apparent.
He leans in, whispering in Simon’s direction. “Did you know she could sing like that?”
“No,” replies Simon, his attention locked in on your serenade.
As you continue, the child’s eyelids grow heavy, eventually closing altogether. When your song comes to a close, you glance up at Simon, smiling.
Johnny chuckles, and Simon shoots him a look. “What?”
“Think you’re next.”
Simon frowns. “Next what, Johnny?” That shit-eating grin is back on Soap’s face. “Next what?!”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (can be read gn!reader)
Price reclines against the vinyl, eyes closed, arms crossed, and legs spread. Simon sits off to his left, awake and alert but clearly not wanting to be there. Kyle observes it all from his spot on the L-shaped couch.
You and Soap stand next to the karaoke machine, the two of you whispering and giggling as you sift through all the options. The two of you picked this place—a karaoke lounge full of private rooms for groups of all sizes. Payment is by the hour.
The massive flatscreen television on the wall rolls through different local advertisements as well as what’s on the menu. The prices for a single beverage are fucking outrageous.
“Pick something yet?” grumbles Simon.
Price doesn’t even budge. He might be out cold.
Kyle grins, basking in your joy. This is the first time the team is meeting you in person and not hearing about you secondhand. Soap flips Simon off and you press a hand over your mouth, glancing at Kyle for reassurance.
Soap holds out a microphone to you and you take it, the two of you standing on either side of the couch, and turned toward the television. The screen shifts, and then the opening notes of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” start playing. The original music video appears, and over it is the opening words.
“You’re fucking joking, mate,” groans Simon, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees.
Soap is off-key. It’s honestly some of the worst singing Kyle has ever heard. But you? You’re fucking killing it. Hitting every note, making up for Soap’s terrible tune, and still smiling through it all. Kyle has been with you for several months now, and he had no idea you could sing like this.
You and Johnny start moving around the room, dancing and pointing and having the time of your lives. Kyle can’t help but smile, to enjoy the experience of simply watching you having fun with the people he not only considers his teammates but his friends.
As the song wraps up, Simon pushes off from the couch and snags the microphone right out of Soap’s hands.
“You’re done, Johnny.”
taglist:
@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus
@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41
@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307
@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic
@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld
@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff
@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen
398 notes · View notes
alt3rnata · 2 days ago
Text
Going to answer them all :)
How many fics have you worked on since January? 
11 not including translations. 
2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? 
Everything. This is the first time I've written anything this year since I tried to write a Dragon Age Origins fic in school (that was a long time ago). 
3. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.) 
Xenoblade Chronicles 3. God bless Monolith studio.
4. How many fandoms did you write for this year? 
Two. The second one is a micro fandom around some black metal band albums I listened accidentally, but that was fun.  
5. What ships captured your heart? 
Oleg/Ashera (XC3) is the main one, which is funny because in my head it has nothing to do with True Love Till Death. 
6. What characters captured your heart? 
Oleg (Teach) from XC3, James Sunderland from Silent Hill 2, Lann from Pathfinders WOTR.
7. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year? 
Yeah, see question 2. 
8. What fic meant the most to you to write? 
“Slayer and the Beast” because it was the first, and I wrote it with the best intentions, without putting anything dark into it, as I sometimes like to do.
9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? 
This one isn’t published yet. It’s working title is "The Element of Chaos" and it’s XC3 post-canon. 
10. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing? 
“What You Deserve” because I had to keep some quite violent details in my head, and I was glad to finally let them go. But in the process I learned a lot of new things. Hardly anyone can guess how much is put into this text.
11. What fic was the most difficult to write? 
“The Glitch” because it was a self-challenge and I had to fully rewrite that bitch 5 or 6 times, I don’t remember… But I had some fun there as a game developer writing fic about XC3 as a game.
12. What fic was the easiest to write? 
“Intersecting Lines”. I made it to relax (and now it's my work with the most kudos). 
13. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year? 
“Slayer and the Beast” is the longest and “Intersecting Lines” is the shortest. I tried to express my thoughts briefly and throw out everything unnecessary. Although sometimes this leads to me presenting events too truncated. 
14. What were your go-to writing songs? 
Esoterica’s “In Dreams” and Guilt Machine’s “On this perfect day” whole albums. 
15. What was the hardest fic to title? 
“It's a small world. It's a vast world.” Still not sure if it’s good. 
16. What's your favorite title of the year? 
“Slayer and the Beast”, proud of it. 
17. Share your favorite opening line 
“At first, everything is dark. It is silent, the only sound you can hear is the ticking of a clock. Then the sound of footsteps becomes audible, getting closer. A key turns in the lock. And suddenly the darkness is cut by a narrow strip of bright light, and then it grows into a rectangle as the man outside opens the door and steps inside. He closes the door behind him and flicks the switch. Let there be light.”
— "The Element of Chaos" 
18. Share your favorite ending line 
“Say hi to Rex and A. Someday we will all meet again, if you weren’t kidding... But now I have to go home. I think boys are already making breakfast.”   She gets out of the water, picks up her stuff, and takes one last look at the horizon. Then she walks barefoot down the path, humming to herself, until she disappears from sight.  In the very heart of Origin, all three hear that distant greeting. A is the one who smiles. 
— “The Glitch” 
19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue 
He loosened the noose. Ashera took a shuddering breath and coughed.    “Was it enough like me? Did you have your fun?” he asked. His own voice sounded hoarse.    “I would rate this nine out of ten,” Ashera answered when she finally caught her breath and was able to speak. Not what he expected to hear from a person he had just nearly killed. 
— “Slayer and the Beast” 
20. Share your funniest line 
Well, I have a weird concept of ‘funny’. 
“But Oleg no longer had hundreds of years of life in store for him, only a measly 150 years at most. He remembered well the feeling that had appeared immediately after the Intersection, as if time had suddenly sped up. For those races that had previously had a longer lifespan and had grown up with this knowledge, the worry that they would not have enough time for anything had become commonplace. Against this background, the carefree way in which the short-lived races of both worlds, whose lives had, on the contrary, lengthened on average, spent their time, even caused some envy.” 
— "The Element of Chaos" 
21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story? 
Every time when the characters just do something I did not intend for them and the story takes an unexpected turn. 
22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand? 
I use MS Word + I write by hand some notes, plans, timelines, etc. 
23. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year? 
I have one piece of writing that I can reread without thinking that "I could have done it better, but my skills weren't good enough." It's very satisfying.
24. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic? 
Just re-reading it and looking at stats. 
25. How did you recharge between fics? 
I don't need to recharge, it is my leisure. I'm constantly reading other people's work, fiction and non-fiction, and I have a life to gain new impressions. 
26. Did you create fanworks other than fic? 
Nope. 
27. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!) 
Hmm, Kinktober 2024, I guess. 
28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank? 
My audience of me, myself and I. And that one reader who left so good, thoughtful comments under “The Glitch” and appreciated my silly tech jokes and weird ideas. This made me feel that my work was worthwhile. 
29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024? 
I don’t have a plan, actually, things will be done when I have time. 
30. What would you like to write next year? 
I wish to work more on non-romantic and original things or AUs to practice working on storylines. Because I often find myself making up a storyline around a romantic line and fitting the events to it, rather than thinking them through as something independent. Of course, that doesn't mean inspiration won't take me in a completely different direction. 
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A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!
How many fics have you worked on since January?
What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?
What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)
How many fandoms did you write for this year?
What ships captured your heart?
What characters captured your heart?
Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?
What fic meant the most to you to write?
What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?
What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?
What fic was the most difficult to write?
What fic was the easiest to write?
What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?
What were your go-to writing songs?
What was the hardest fic to title?
What's your favorite title of the year?
Share your favorite opening line
Share your favorite ending line
Share your favorite piece of dialogue
Share your funniest line
What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?
What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?
If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?
Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?
How did you recharge between fics?
Did you create fanworks other than fic?
How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)
If this were an awards show, who would you thank?
What's left on your to-do list for 2024?
What would you like to write next year?
1K notes · View notes
district4loading · 2 days ago
Text
Just Hold Me
Twice Sana x Male reader
6K Words
Content Warning: smut, fluff, really sappy, mentions of depression and abuse, kinda unrealistic elements
Minors DNI
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A/N: I came up with the plot for this one with a friend of mine who I met on here not too long ago. Super cool guy who enjoys my fluffier fics so I didn't mind writing this one.
Please enjoy this really... really fluffy fic. More to come!!!
-
That's what Sana does, and it's why you know that she's the love of your life.
-
It's the sound of the rain hitting the glass, the endless thudding against your bedroom window that has your attention. You stare at it silently, waiting for her to join you in bed as you lay there cold and almost lifeless. There wasn't anything profound about the harsh rainfall outside, you just needed something—anything—to focus on besides your thoughts.
The rooms dark and everything just feels so heavy. It always gets like this when you're alone. You've gotten better at distracting yourself but on nights like these when there's not one single thing that feels right, it gets so hard.
So you find yourself thinking again, your eyes so empty and lost without any purpose. You were in one of your depressive episodes which came around every few months. You've been able to hide it from her for a while now. You kept a smile on your face, you were never not there for her and you found yourself only letting out your true emotions in the shower or any time you had by yourself.
(Usually in the car right after work)
Being all emotional with Sana is something you never want to do. She's too perfect, too precious, and way too pure to have to deal with the absolute train wreck that you are. Something tells you that you need to be the perfect man for her, be strong, be stoic, be a protector. It's in the back of your mind and it's so loud and persistent that you actually believe it.
You can't be there for her if you're crying in her arms about your problems 
So when you see her beautiful face come through your bedroom door, you suck in every bit of sorrow and somehow manage to force a slight smile. She shuts the door behind her and climbs into bed right where she belongs, wrapped in your arms. You get the covers over you and then there comes the warmth that you've been longing for.
Even with her here, your mind is still going and your thoughts begin to swarm. You're too stuck in your head that you don't even notice the lack of words she spoke or the eerie and unusual silence that continues while she's in bed. You only hold her tighter and for the first time tonight you hear her soft voice and it immediately brings you back to reality.
"Y/n"
You only hum in response, staring into the dark room because the position you were in didn't allow you to face each other. You were both laying on your sides, your arms wrapped around her and your chest pressed flush against her back.
Sana brings her hand up and holds yours that rested on her belly "What's going on with you?"
The tone she uses nearly breaks you. It's how concerned she sounds, how genuinely worried she is about you. "What are you talking about?" You really try to make it seem like you have no idea what she means because you know that she shouldn't have to deal with this.
"You've been coming home from work late, you barely eat, and I feel like I haven't seen you smile in weeks"
Your heart sinks as you realize that you may not have been masking it well like you thought you'd been. Not at all.
You force a chuckle "I'm smiling right now" 
She turns over to face you, the side of her face sinking into the soft pillow as she looks into your eyes with serious worry. She doesn't even crack a smile at your joke. "Stop it, I mean a genuine smile. Something's not right... I can see it in your eyes"
"It's really nothing, I promise. Works just been a little stressful"
"Is that all?" 
"I promise, princess" You reach over to move her hair out of her face, then you caress her cheek.
Sana sees the way you nod and how you're looking into her eyes as you speak. She almost believes it but she still has a feeling that there's something you're not telling her. If only you knew how frightened she is about this sudden change in you. She's watched it happen in real time and it brings this uncomfortable twisting feeling in her stomach. One that comes anytime she thinks about it.
But she reluctantly nods after staring into your eyes for a moment "Okay" Is all she says before initiating a change in position. Sana nudges you to lay on your back then snuggles herself into your side, draping her leg just over your lower abdomen. Her arm comes next, landing on your chest. Then she kisses your cheek "I hope you know that I'll always be here for you if you ever need to talk, I love you" She mumbles into your skin.
"I love you too"
Those were the last words spoken before the silence came back and stayed for good. Sana holds you tight like she thinks you might go somewhere and then she falls asleep, leaving you to think about her words. The look in her eyes is now engrained in your mind. They were almost desperate, looking to you for any answer that could give her some knowledge or anything that she can use to help you. It couldn't be more obvious that you need it.
It's killing her and you haven't noticed until now.  
-
You couldn't sleep much at all and by the morning, you found yourself solemnly sitting on the edge of your bed deep in your thoughts once again. It was getting bad. So bad that you didn't even notice when Sana woke up. The moment her eyes flutter open she almost immediately feels it in the atmosphere—the darkness accompanied by the rain knocking against the window. 
She looks over to the digital clock on the nightstand.
Five AM
"Babe?" Sana mumbles through a stifled yawn, sitting up in the dim room. It's still kind of dark out but she can see you clearly. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and gives in to a short yawn as she waits for you to hum like you always do, or turn around, or do something to at least acknowledge her presence.
She sits up and scoots over "Please talk to me, you're scaring me" She says it in such a cute and wholesome way with her voice as sweet as honey. She's navigated her way next to you, her feet hanging off the bed as she tugs on the hem of her shirt nervously.
It's only then when you're actually snapped out of every bad thought you were having. You look over into her wide eyes and you open your mouth to say something, to lie and tell her to go back to bed. But you can't because there's a lump in your throat so big you're unable to convey any words so instead you swallow and turn your head away.
"Please"
In one last effort to get you to say something, Sana pushes her hand through the space between your arm and your torso, then she holds your hand and interlocks your fingers. She squeezes her hand and you squeeze back to let her know that you're there. You look over to her one last time and she's silently pleading with her teary eyes. "Sana, I..." You pause and swallow again when your voice wavers.
She perks up "It's okay, take your time baby" She comforts you.
"I never told you but... I've been through a lot in the past and I'm fucked up because of it"
Sana gives you a look. It's pity and it's so prominent that you can't even bring yourself to look her in the eye. She's silent for a moment and you start to worry if it's all too much for her to handle. She shouldn't have to deal with someone who's got tons of baggage. "Why did you feel the need to hide it from me?" She asks as a tear rolls down her cheek. That's not the only one though, following it comes multiple, leaving streaks of clear dripping down her face.
"It's a long story and it doesn't matter now. All I'd be doing is wasting your time if you let me sit here and bitch about my problems all day long. You don't deserve that"
You turn your head away from Sana when you feel a tear threaten to fall and you blink it away as quickly as you can. "I will sit here for days and listen to your story if I have to! I'm your girlfriend, I deserve to hear it" She persists but you only keep your head turned away.
"It's irrelevant" 
A heavy, punishing silence follows your statement and you feel Sana let go of your hand and pull it away. You assume that she's going to let it go like you've told her to but instead she puts her palm flat on your back. There's this feeling of relief you get from it and when she begins to rub softly in circles, you feel comfortable again.
Then you look over to Sana because suddenly she's stopped the comforting motions and her eyes have seemed to go empty and there's this look of devastating shock on her face.
The thing is, she's seeing it all. All of your past experiences, the abuse, the negligence, the bullying, everything. Her breaths turn rapid as she sees it so vivid and clear. Graphic images of the torturous violence you've faced when you couldn't have been more than ten years old and then the nasty words they've said that's engrained so deep into your brain.
"Worthless" "Useless" "disgusting" "Kill yourself"
She hears it loudly echoing in her head then she gasps and a new rush of tears falls from her eyes.
You don't know what's happening but it's fucking terrifying and you try your best to snap her out of this trance-like state. "Sana" You call her name and grab her by the shoulders. Then you shake her a bit and with a blink she seems to be back "Are you okay? What happened?" You ask, your heart racing wildly.
Sana comes back, then she looks into your eyes again. But this time there isn't any pity. It's more-so understanding. Something about her gaze feels like she sees you, like she gets it and you didn't even have to say a word. "Oh" She almost sobs, then she whispers "My baby boy" and she wraps her arms around you.
Your heart melts completely and you finally break.
You cry into her shoulder, your tears staining her top but she could care less about it, she only holds you closer and tighter. She runs her fingers through your hair "My sweet prince" She starts, then she has to breath for a moment "You're perfect... you're enough... you're my everything."
"Sana" You shake your head, trying to reject it all, trying not to feel as much as you are right now.
"No" She pulls away from the hug, then makes a quick move to straddle your lap "I fucking love you... I need you" She holds your face in her hands so you have no choice but to look into her eyes. Those beautiful orbs that are so easy to get lost in. So much so that you don't even notice when she leans in to kiss you until your lips are already connected.
Your eyes shut and so do Sana's as you allow this newfound warmth to bind you. The kiss is so slow and sensual, you move your lips in unison with one another. You understand each other like that. If she parts her lips, you know your tongue should be in her mouth. That's exactly what you do. You lick into her mouth with a passion that tells her how much you love her—how much you need her. "I love you" You mumble into the kiss "I need you" then repeat what she said.
You can taste the salty mix of your tears, but neither of you care, you just continue to enjoy this kiss. It feels so good that you actually forget, you actually can't think of anything but Sana right now. That's all you've ever wanted to do. Your hands run up her top and you get a hold of the warm skin of her bare waist then you pull her closer to you.
Sana's hands leave your face, she grabs a hold of your shoulders and begins to push on them. You take the hint and lean backwards until you're laying flat on the bed with her on top of you. You shuffle around so your feet are also on the bed and she helps out with that. Then in no time, your lips are connected again and now you're back to devouring each other. 
"Please... I need..." Sana mutters through the kiss but then she breaks it completely and puts her hands on your chest "I need you" You nod your head and watch as she pulls her top over her head. You need her just as bad right now in this vulnerable moment when you have so much love to give--she's all you need.
So you take your tank top off, almost missing the way her breasts fall free from her shirt. Sana leans over again and kisses you, there's more passion in it this time and you reach your hands over to feel her body. Her skin is always so soft and warm. Moments later you let your hands gravitate to her breasts and you begin to massage them slowly, almost like you're kneading dough but with a bit less rigor and a bit more care.
She moans softly into your mouth and then she pulls away. Sana looks into your eyes for a moment, then scoots herself back so she's sat on your thighs. She grabs the waistband of your pajama pants and begins to tug on them. You raise your hips and allow her to strip you of your pants along with your boxers.
Sana takes your cock into her hand and pumps you to life with her soft hand (There wasn't much work to do because you were already halfway there). You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can watch the moment she lowers her head and sticks her tongue out. She licks the tip softly with her hand still holding the base firmly and then she takes you into her mouth. The first feeling of her soft, saliva coated lips has a low and long groan forcing its way out of your throat.
Her eyes lock with yours and she begins to descend, her hot mouth taking as much of you as possible. Once her lips, come into contact with her fist she comes back up and starts bobbing her head while she strokes you. "Fuck.. Sana - that feels so... good" You sigh while her velvety tongue scrapes against the underside of your cock.
It's one of the best feelings ever, the best part being that Sana won't take her eyes off of you. Although she can't speak, her eyes tell you everything that you need to know. She's looking at you with so much love and care that it brings you some actual comfort, like you two are the only living beings in the entire universe right now. Anything that matters or has ever mattered is now irrelevant, not even your demons could get to you in this bubble.
That's what Sana does, and it's why you know that she's the love of your life. 
You've known it for a while now but never has there ever been a moment like this thats made the fact so apparent. "I love you" There's a shudder in your voice when you say the words because she's doing everything right. Both her mouth and her hand are working together to please you and it only feels better the sloppier everything gets. 
In a moment, Sana withdraws her mouth with a popping sound following and she begins to jerk you off "I love you more" she smiles, then pokes out her tongue to let it rest against your tip so she can lap up the pre-cum leaking endlessly. "You ready for me?" There's a cute smirk that accompanies the simple question.
"Yes please" You nod and then you watch as she takes off her shorts and panties. Now her completely bare body is exposed to you and everything about it is pure perfection. "You're perfect" You sigh as she climbs on top of you.
Sana only giggles "Not as perfect as you my sweet prince." Her smile makes your pupils dilate nearly ten times as big as they already were. You didn't agree with her, but you let her have this one because there's no use in ruining this beautiful moment with something as morose as self deprecation. It doesn't at all change the fact that her words make you so feel warm inside that it might just be enough to make the thick ice in your cold heart thaw. 
She leans over, laying her soft body on yours and she kisses you softly. Your hands find her waist again—because they're supposed to be there—and you squeeze her supple flesh "I need you... so bad" You mumble the words desperately against her lips and Sana kisses you harder, reaching her hand down to find your cock.
It's throbbing in her hold, only for her and you feel her smile when she notices it. Sana lifts her hips and presses your tip into her entrance, wasting no time to lower herself nice and slow. Her tight cunt grips you firmly as she sinks down and you can't help but moan into her mouth as your nerves begin to register the heat. 
"Fuck" Sana breaks the kiss, her face only millimeters away from yours when her thighs land on your lap. Her face twists up, her jaw clenches and her eyes shut as she tries to get used to the stretch of your thick cock. "Your cock is so fucking..." She grits, exhaling a hot breath against your cheek before raising her hips and slamming them back down.
She connects your lips again and then she begins to ride you, moving her hips up and down in this slowed and steadied rhythm. It has you bucking your hips to meet hers half-way because she feels so fucking good. Sana moans into your mouth freely and loudly, struggling more and more to continue the kiss as she fucks you.
Soon enough, her mouth is hanging open and it's you doing all the work, kissing, licking and sucking her plump lips. 
There's something so perfect about being inside of Sana, especially when she's riding you. Her pussy wraps around you just right, like a tight warm hug (only it's sopping wet). With each movement she makes lighting each one of your nerves on fire to make sure that you feel the almost electric pleasure. It's how she moves her hips with such direction and purpose that has your toes curling and your heart pumping. Then it's the way her cunt clenches occasionally when you're completely buried inside.
Sana's an expert at this, she's mastered the art of riding you at this point in your relationship. She knows exactly what movements make you tick, how to moan your name, how to praise you--all to get you reeling with her name on your lips.
She knows you like the back of her hand.
She lifts herself a bit then plants her hands on your shoulders and she begins to roll her hips back and forth in a way that has your eyes threatening to roll back into your skull but you keep them on her. You have to see it. How perfect her tits look bouncing with the force of her motions, the pleasureful look on her face, the lust in her eyes and the sweat beading on her flushed body. Sana looks too perfect right now for you to miss anything.
"Sana, your pussy... feels so damn good" You moan, hands still holding on so tightly to her waist that you're leaving marks. "I fucking love you" 
"You're so perfect, my love" A warm smile shows on her lips, she takes your hands and interlocks your fingers, pinning your arms to the bed. "I can't imagine... fuck" She moans involuntarily and she's getting close already "I couldn't imagine life without you" She admits through her warm haze.
"I'm not going anywhere, princess" You promise with so much conviction it's like God himself is speaking through you.
Because Sana fucking needs you just as much as you need her and you just can't let this depression eat you alive when you have her.
You won't. 
Sana's the opposite of a liability. She only uplifts you, she makes you feel so good about yourself that you'd think you were on top of the world. She makes life worth all the bad and she's probably the best thing you have in this life. She's someone you can brag about without fail or embarrassment.
That is where you find some hope. Some actual hope in the sea of despair you've been floating lifelessly in.
"I-I'm close" Sana warns, snapping you out of your thoughts and it's definitely coming. You see all the signs. The way her hips stutter, how she's just bouncing her petite ass on your lap with her eyes shut and her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. There's also that pulsing inside of her wet heat that you just can't ignore.
She's right there
When she starts struggling to make her movements smooth, you take her waist back into your hands. Then Sana falls forwards, some of her brown hair getting in your face as you hold her in place tightly so she cant move. Before Sana can even complain about it you're using nothing but your core strength to piston your cock into her at a speed so ungodly it has her jaw dropping.
"Yeah - Yeah just like that, princess. Cum for me" Your voice shakes as you sing her praises because your body could give out at any moment if you keep fucking her like this. You begin to break a sweat, your cock burning up as you fuck her soaked cunt. The noise is filthy. Now that she's gone silent, you can hear it loud and clear. Every sticky squelch when your hips meet the backs of her thighs is so obscenely loud in your ears. "Come on, Sana" You nearly heave into her ear.
Then she begins to shudder and you know you have her when "Ah fuck baby I'm cumming. I'm fucking -" she cuts herself off with a vocal moan. Her slick wets your entire lap, spreading everywhere as her hips go wild in an attempt to ride out her high. You never stopped grinding into her either, all deep and slow inside so she'd feel every inch as she cums. "God" She sighs and then she stops moving and you follow suit.
Sana weakly brings her head up and connects your lips again. You kiss back, immediately pouring your entire heart into this kiss because she deserves it. She deserves everything. When she starts moving again you stop her with your hands "Baby" She whines, then your lips disconnect. She pouts at you "I want to make you cum" She tries moving again but you don't say anything.
You flip her over gently, then get yourself between her legs "I want us to cum together" 
She looks into your eyes then lifts her hand to caress your cheek softly "Whatever you want my sweet prince" You nearly melt at the term of endearment because it makes you feel so connected to her. The genuine tone in her voice accompanied by the softness makes it even more intimate and the 'my' signifying that you're hers because you'll always be. 
It's one of your favorites.
Sana notices how your eyes soften as you look into hers and you don't even break eye contact when you guide your tip towards her begging entrance. As you slide in, her eyebrows furrow, but she keeps looking at you with those big beautiful eyes. You lean over to put your lips on hers once more and that's when you begin to move. 
You make sure Sana feels every single inch, the way you fuck her with such a slow, burning passion. It lights her heart on fire. "I can't - baby.. you're so deep" She's losing it at the angle because nothing compares to the way your cock rubs against her walls, just brushing past all of her tender spots. 
The only thing you do is kiss her harder, your tongue exploring the warm confines of her mouth. Kissing Sana has always been one of your favorite intimate acts to do with her and if she'd let you, you'd have make out sessions that last hours upon hours on end.
Sana takes your lip in between her teeth as you pull away and then she lets go, her moans soft when you pick up the pace. You duck your head into her neck and you begin to kiss, lick and suck on the soft skin "Do whatever you want, I'm yours baby" Sana assures you, running her fingers through your hair as you begin to leave sweet marks on her. 
You increase your speed a bit, not so much that it feels punishing but enough for her to know that she feels so good that you almost can't help yourself. "So wet and tight for me, princess" You growl against her skin and Sana begins to lose her breath.
"Yes - right there - fucking hell baby" Sana gasps, her arms wrapping tightly around your body. She stops herself from scratching even if she wants to and in the back of her mind she know's you would never mind it. 
Either way she only hugs your body close to hers.
"Princess... I hope you're almost there cause... I" You almost whimper the words into her neck.
"Shh- I know baby, just go ahead" She rubs the back of your head in a way that feels so good that it's almost like magic. "Inside" and then a small gasp escapes her lips and before you know it, your cock is spasming inside of her and you're filling her tight cunt, painting those perfect velvety walls white. A choked groan escapes your lips and tears begin to brim your eyelids as the pleasure takes over your entire body. It has you nearly shaking, making the most expressive 'O' face you've made in maybe months.
"Fuck" You groan as you keep thrusting, fucking your load so deep it'll probably slip past her IUD. Then when everything else subsides, your cock almost goes numb as you try your hardest to get Sana there no matter what because she deserves it.
"Don't stop" Sana begs, and her voice sounds so desperate when she does because she's so close. All it took was for her to feel your cock spraying your warm cum inside of her to get her there.
When Sana's chest begins to rise you know you've got her "There you go baby, cum for me" You whisper and that's when a strangled—almost sob-like—moan leaves her mouth. You keep the pace to fuck her though it as she shudders through her orgasm.
You stop completely and you two just lay there in that position for a moment. Soon Sana begins rubbing the smooth skin on your back and you take a deep breath "I love you" you murmur.
"I love you" She begins and you give her a moment to gather her thoughts. You'd give her all the time in the world if you could. "I know I said it already but you can tell me anything. No matter what. I don't care how long it is or how fucked up it is, I want to hear your story. I need to"
"You won't look at me the same after" You mutter weakly, still not moving from where you are.
Sana stays silent for a moment "Yeah, maybe you're right" She starts off and it catches you off guard a bit but then she continues "When I look at you, I'll see someone strong. Stronger than who you were before because whatever you went through, it couldn't have been easy to endure. Most people would've already given up"
You finally decide to get off of her and you sit up on the bed. "How would you even know that?" The question might've seemed harsh but Sana knows you don't mean it like that. The reason you ask is because its scary. So scary that she's saying all the right things.
It's almost like she...
"Because I saw it!" Sana sits up as well, kind of regretting how her words come off "Well, glimpses of it" She corrects, then begins to think again and you allow it because you have no clue what to say at all "When I touched you, before we..." She shakes her head "I saw like... small pieces of everything. I saw the abuse, I heard the words.. I just... I couldn't believe it"
You only tilt your head because it's all you can really bring yourself to do. This revelation is nearly bone chilling and so inconceivable that you force yourself to believe that she's lying whether or not if it was out of character for her to joke or lie in a situation like this. "Sana that's not funny" You sort of scold her, but your voice isn't at all cold about it.
"I'm not joking" She insists.
Then, in your bedroom at maybe seven-ish in the morning, with the rain still hitting the window, Sana explains everything she saw in her visions in detail.
That's when you come to really believe that she isn't joking.
-
The warm water from the shower head cascades down your body smoothly and comfortably, nothing like the harsh rain outside. You wrap your arms around Sana and rest your chin on her shoulder "So if you already saw what I went through, why do I need to re-tell it to you?" are the first words spoken for the entire duration of your time in the shower. 
It started off silent, the two of you cleaning each other and kissing as you enjoyed the hot water and each others presence. It was a well needed contrast from the endless talking you did in the bedroom just before. You can see the soft smile on Sana's face in the reflection of the glass door "Well, I didn't see everything" She turns around in your arms "and it'll be good for you to say it out loud, I mean I don't expect you to be better in a day. I get that it takes time but-"
Sana stops talking when you put your lips on hers, leaving a small peck on her lips. "Listen princess, you're not my therapist. I don't wanna dump that burden on you. You understand that it wouldn't be good for us, right?" It's true, treating your significant other like a therapist can lead to many bumps in a relationship. But maybe that's just another excuse as to why you've been hiding everything from Sana.
"Oh? Where'd you learn that?"
"The internet" You shrug
Sana puts her hand on your bare chest and looks into your eyes, with those loving eyes. "Well, I may not be a licensed therapist but it's important for me to know because I'm your girlfriend and I want you to be able to open up to me like I open up to you about everything" You open your mouth to say something else but Sana shushes you then she reaches for the shampoo "Now wash my hair for me, pretty please?" You can't help but smile because she's so adorable.
When Sana turns around and tilts her head back, you grumble "I still think its super weird that you have like... superpowers."
"How do you think I feel? I'm still freaked out about it" She whines playfully as you lather her hair in her shampoo. The scent is warm and floral and you can't help but lose your breath trying to inhale more and more of it. It's one of those scents that only Sana has. So to you, it quite literally belongs to her, no matter who else may use it.
-
"The rain stopped" You mutter softly to the girl laying on your chest with her leg thrown over you. Sana only hums at your realization and you turn over to look at the window. It's covered by your curtains because you've both decided to go back to sleep but you can still see the sun peaking through.
You smile softly, thinking about how you agreed to tell her everything when you wake up. It doesn't feel scary anymore. In fact, you were actually looking forward to getting everything off your chest. You know you'll probably end up crying in front of her again--which you're still a bit embarrassed about--but you also know that she'll be there to hold you and knowing her she'll probably cry too.
That's when you eventually doze off, and for once it's easy.
"Babe?" Sana calls your name but she only hears your heavy breathing and from that she concludes that you're asleep. She innocently shifts just a bit to make herself more comfy and it happens again.
She sees something
At first it's kind of blurry so it's difficult for her to make out but as it gets clearer, she realizes that it's the both of you cuddling in bed together.
Then just like that, it's gone. Sana jumps, a small gasp escaping her lips and it wakes you up. "Whats wrong princess?" You ask tiredly, blinking when you notice the tears running down her cheeks. "Bad dream?" 
Sana only shakes her head "No... baby, it's beautiful" she cries. You try to sit up because you're really concerned but Sana stops you. "Just let me hold you" She sniffles and you reluctantly nod, allowing her to wrap her arms around you the best as she can.
You're put at ease because she doesn't seem sad at all.
It's almost like she's right where she wants to be.
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guided-by-the-skies · 3 days ago
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Why you may be blocked - by ascendant sign
the ascendent, representing our public facing self, can be correlated with the concept of the super ego in psychology. this is the part of us which keeps our darker nature and our shadow in check. it helps us exist in a society with different views and get along with others, and is crucial for forming our identities. yet because of this nature it can sometimes block us from fully understanding our shadow, making shadow work and freeing blockages challenging.
NB Modern people are WAY WAY too identified with our ascendant and as a result less in tune with our shadow which means it can come back to bite us. This is when we act in cruel or unnatural ways to others, feel like we've 'given in' to our dark side and so on.
The shadow is not BAD it's just unexpressed because it's the stuff we oftern were not allowed to express. However this makes it POWERFUL and by extension a bit dangerous. Again not because it's bad but just in the same way the ocean can be dangerous...
🌩 asc in aries - you feel pressure to one up people. your relief lies in comparing you to you, not you to others
🌩 asc in taurus - you feel deprived or harrassed. your ascendant doesn't feel natural to you, giving you this feeling of never getting a moment of peace
🌩 asc in gemini - you struggle to develop an identity. you focus on what you're saying as opposed to why, leaving you without inner convictions
🌩 asc in cancer - you wear your heart on your sleeve, and it is getting exploited because it's the bit you show to others most
🌩 asc in leo - you feel pressure to achieve, otherwise your identity will crumble. your dream and aim is to base it around something utterly different
🌩 asc in virgo - you get used as the therapist friend. you may have been pretending that you don't mind this, but it still has an affect at a subconscious level
🌩 asc in libra - you feel responsible for other peoples baggage, even though you had nothing to do with it
🌩 asc in scorpio- you are a social chameleon. separating what is yours and what is others' is your greatest challenge but can bring you rich rewards
🌩 asc in sagittarius - you've been forced to take debate too seriously. in truth, you don't need to have an opinion on everything, and it's ok to change your mind or say 'I don't know'
🌩 asc in capricorn - you feel the weight of the world. different from virgo, you feel the need to represent yourself or any group you are part of to wider society
🌩 asc in aquarius - you are worn down by frequent combativeness, when you just want to explore new posibilities. People may block your ideas and shoot them down :(
🌩 asc in pisces - you wonder whether your emotions are normal. you've lacked reference points for how you should feel, or people to normalise it for you. you are normal, for you
*this post is part of a series on why astrology matters regardless of how much you do or don't believe in it. as our lives have become busier, more disconnected, less spiritual, and significantly detached from the rhythms and energies of the earth, we have lost the ability to express the needs that are going unmet
I do a lot of this shadow work from a sort of solarpunk-y direction, beginning to build a post masterlist here or vote in the poll for my next post topic :p
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corkinavoid · 1 day ago
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For @astermagnolia, to 'Navigating' by Twenty One Pilots,
DPxDC Everybody Leaves
Damian always knew he was there.
From the very moment his eyes dimmed and his body went limp under Damian's hands, he knew that, in reality, he never went anywhere. He stayed, always in the corner of his eye, on the tip of his fingertips, on the brink of his dreams, looking back at him through the reflection in the mirror.
Always just out of reach.
And yet, when Damian missteps, when a bright blast of a laser is only inches away from his chest, when his eyes widen and he knows he won't make it out this time, he is still genuinely surprised to suddenly find another person in between him and his death.
The blast hits Danyal square in the chest, but the boy doesn't sway in the slightest. Damian would have been impressed; he would, really, if he didn't know his brother was dead. If the sight of him, standing in front of Damian, didn't cause his mind to come to a whirring stop.
"You can't take him," Danyal speaks, or maybe growls, the words coming from somewhere deep in his chest, "He can't leave."
And there's something off in his voice - not in the low, menacing way he speaks but in the frenzied panic that's seeping through every word. Damian, against his better judgment, reaches forward, trying to touch his brother's shoulder, but even before he does, the boy snaps his head to him.
And, oh, Damian sees what's wrong.
His brother's eyes are wide, toxic green and glowing, and full of fear, the one you see in a cornered animal. When one wrong move can turn all that scared, anxious tension into a sharp, angry lunge full of fury.
"You can't leave," Danyal repeats quieter this time, but his whisper is almost pleading, "Everyone leaves, I know they do, but not you, you can't-" and then, the frantic mess of words is cut off like someone flipped a switch, and Danyal's face smoothes out in less than a moment.
The cold, calculated ice fills his eyes, and the boy straightens up. His hair, dark like Damian's own, somehow glitches like a bad video recording, going between black and white but settling on white after a moment.
"I won't let you," he says, and there's no more fear or pleading in his voice. Instead, it's calm and eerie, offhanded even, like the boy is merely stating a fact.
Damian blinks, the words stuck in his throat.
He has a whole family of vigilantes around him, he grew up in the League, he is a part of a superhero team. He knows there are people who would throw themselves in danger for the sake of his life without a second thought, and he knows he would do the same, even if he is never going to admit to it out loud.
But not a single one of them ever made it feel like a promise, an unbreakable vow.
Danyal turns away from him, facing the battlefield.
He takes a deep breath.
And screams.
~•~•~•~
Okay, so the idea was that Danny (reincarnated or just dropped off in the DC universe somehow to become Damian's twin) had died at the hands of Damian long ago, but never left his side even in death. I was coming from the Ultimate Enemy bad ending, which means Danny is literally slipping into insanity over losing his loved ones.
Hence, Danny going into a feral protective rage over Damian because he is a traumatized, two times dead boy who just wants his family to stay with him.
And now I'm tryin' to hold onto you 'cause everybody leaves — ['Navigating' lyrics]
P.S. I really wanted to include the line 'pardon my delay' into this, but it didn't quite work with the way I was heading
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madamechrissy · 2 days ago
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✨️Feels like Stardust, Floating all around Us✨️
✨️The five times Suguru tried to confess his feelings, and the one that worked ✨️
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✨️Pairings - Suguru Geto x F!reader
✨️Summary - It’s New Years Eve, and Suguru is at a huge party in the city, with Satoru, Nanami and Shoko, but his mind goes to the girl who moved to France right after your Freshman year of College ended. The girl he never got the courage to tell his feelings to, despite knowing her most of his life. You. When you return from abroad, looking even more beautiful than he remembered, he wonders if he can finally tell you how he really feels, and get your kiss at Midnight. (Or every night) Watch as Suguru tries to confess his feelings from Elementary, Middle, High school and College, while not knowing you felt the same.
✨️CW - MDNI- explicit, 18+ only! Very emotional, light angst, cute fluff, and smutty!! Mutual pining, same format of Duvet Days and Vanilla Ice Cream (Satoru’s 5+1 !!) If you enjoyed that storytelling format, you’ll enjoy this one! (Same world as this too) friends/idiots to lovers. Will be NSFW at the end, there is oral (f recieving), dirty talk, mating press, rough sex, creampie, the rest of the story also has suggestive, fingering, teasing, edging. -Word count- 16.2k- oneshot long af lol, just trust meee <3
Comments and reblogs so appreciated if you enjoy!! -(divider by @strangergraphics - banner made by me)
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It’s New Year's Eve, and you’re so nervous to see your old friends again, especially one friend in particular, Suguru Geto. As the cool air makes you shiver a bit in your dress, you wrap your light suede jacket around you just a little tighter, stepping up to what you remember as Satoru Gojo’s house, opulent and extravagant, the perfect place for a party really.
You take a little breath, looking up at the clear night sky, knowing soon it would be smokey with fireworks, and you can’t help but remember all the times you’ve been here. Particular parties, or study sessions, with all of your best friends, who had clearly stayed close, you wonder will you still fit in? You also wonder, will you look good to a particular dark haired man.
Shaking it off, you psych yourself up, you’ve done your hair, your makeup, you’ve got this gold glitter all over your skin, and a gorgeous little gold dress. You wracked over ideas over and over, wanting it to be so perfect, wanting to make sure that you could maybe get noticed by him in a different way, in the way you’ve always wanted, but have never really said.
You finally, after minutes of standing and contemplating it, knock on the door, you can feel the music reverberating, and it blares when Satoru Gojo opens the door. When you see Satoru’s smiling face and pretty blue eyes you can’t help but smile. He says your name and yanks you in practically, pulling you in for a big hug, you giggle and hug him back.
“Satoru!” He pops a kiss on your head now.
“Oh my god, you’re back for good!?” You nod then, smiling.
“Croissants and wine are great, but I missed home for sure. Satoru, you're squeezing me to death!”
“Sorry, sweets. Just missed your face.”
“You’re hogging her.” Shoko says, you grin so big again, as she pulls you in for a tight hug, you both kiss each other’s cheeks. “You came home, huh?”
“Finally! Oh, Nanami!” He smiles a tired little smile, holding a strong arm out, you hug him tightly, his hand on your head gently.
“You came back to this shithole?” You snort, pulling back and shaking your head at him, leaning up to ruffle his sandy blond locks, much to his displeasure.
“Came back to torture you, Kento.” He rolls his hazel eyes, then you pause when you see him across the room, he stops right in his tracks, his lips parted just so, a pack of cigarettes in one hand as if he was about to step out. But he doesn’t move, not an inch, and neither do you then.
“He didn’t know you were coming.” Satoru whispers, you look up at him curiously, and Nanami chuckles a bit.
“We wanted to see the full effect.” He murmurs.
“Look, his jaw is on the floor. Shit, take her coat!” Shoko says, Satoru snatches it off casually, as Suguru approaches, and sees you in your dress now, your heart is racing in your chest when he stands right in front of you.
Suguru’s heart isn’t racing, it’s pounding out of his chest, when he sees you, so beautiful in this golden dress, it hugs your every curve, hitting mid thigh, revealing much of your supple skin that seems to glitter under the fairy lights hung all over. He blinks once, twice, three times, and opens his mouth, but he can’t even form a coherent thought.
You’re looking up at him with those eyes, the glittering ones that he’s looked at for so many years, but he has longed for them since you’ve been gone, he’s pictured them when he closes his eyes. Pictures of you are not the same, they are all gorgeous, you are gorgeous, but there’s something missing in them, something he can only truly feel in person.
He feels your very energy humming, and he’s so terrified, he’s going to close up again, isn’t he? He’s going to let you down again, hold back and shut down, when you last left he was in such a dark, dark place, and he would not let you in. He had no idea you would be here, though he knew you were coming home soon, he’d tried to prepare a whole speech, torn paper after paper.
Filled notebooks about you, highlighting sections, writing poems about your eyes, your lips, everything he would do to you if he got a chance. How he’d kiss every inch of your smooth skin, how he’d see you writhing in pleasure under him, but also how he’d get down on one knee for you, how he’d devote anything if he could just get a chance, a chance to tell you the truth.
The truth?
Suguru Geto has been in love with you since the first day you met, all the way back in elementary school.
“Gonna just stare and drool?” Satoru teases, bringing him back, he clears his throat, a dark pink rushing across his high cheekbones.
Suguru Geto was not inexperienced, he certainly was not a Satoru level player back in the day, but them both being in a fraternity and in sports came with certain things, parties and hookups. He mostly avoided it though, but he’s never been tongue tied with a girl, in fact being with girls was effortless for him, they all just came to him, but you?
You’re so different.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t seen you in so long…” You fidget a bit, nervous now, looking down. He’s fucking it up already.
“No, I’m sorry, I missed you all very much.” You say with a little smile, hands entwined in front of you, pressing your breasts together in a dress already too revealing, addling his mind. “You look good, Sugu.”
Sugu, the little nickname you had for him, hearing it from your lips after so long melts him, and you’re telling him that he looks good, he should be telling you how beautiful you are. He should have always told you it, but he could never find the right damn words, and after years of not seeing you, he hasn’t moved on, not even close, there is only one you.
“You… you look good.” He manages, voice breaking, he watches your face fall just a bit, cursing himself, as Satoru gestures behind you, a finger gun to his head, and Shoko slits her throat with her finger. Nanami pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Um, I mean great, really great. Like… you look…”
“It’s fine, I appreciate it.” You smile, walking up to him then, holding your arms out for a hug, when he pulls you against him, and inhales that scent, the sweet vanilla of your perfume, and the strawberries in your hair, it all hits.
It’s your scent.
He inhales, pulling you tightly against him, the longing making him ache, as you inhale his scent, that fresh yet masculine one, feeling his hard body against yours, he’s gotten even more buff, you feel all the muscles as he holds you tight. You feel how broad his shoulders are when your hands gently brush against his biceps over his soft black sweater.
You look up into his eyes, those dark violet ones that are lidded and lazy, making you wonder what they look like when he feels good. You shake the thoughts away, praying your dress covers the now perked up nipples from the contact, your heat pooling in your lower tummy just from a hug. How has he gotten more gorgeous, you can’t understand.
His mid length dark hair is even longer now, straight and silky to his shoulders and even beyond them, he has half of it up in a bun and damned if Suguru Geto is the only man that can make it look so attractive. A little wisp falls in front of his forehead just so, you ache to brush it back, to lean up and kiss those full lips, glossy when he runs a tongue along them.
It’s not just as bad as it was before for you…
It’s not just as bad as it was before for him…
It’s worse.
“Ahem, weren’t you going to smoke?” Shoko cuts in the awkward silence of you two, you step aside then.
“Sorry, don't let me keep you! We can catch up later.” You say, and he opens his mouth again, then Satoru interrupts.
“Go check out the stars together on the balcony and have a smoke, Suguru, yeah?” Suguru nods then, eagerly, taking your jacket from Satoru and gently putting it over your shoulders.
“Yeah, if it won’t bother you?” He asks, you shake your head with a smile, although you don’t smoke, it is very common in France, and you’re pretty used to it now, along with Sugu and Shoko having smoked since high school.
“Not at all. If you don’t mind the company.” You say, brushing your hair back behind your ear, you’re so fucking cute, Suguru wants to tell you…
No, he’s going to tell you.
Tonight.
What if you leave again, what if someone sweeps you off your feet? What if he’ll live forever and not have said it? He has to throw it out there, and if you do not feel the same, he worries he’ll hit that dark place again, but he’s going to try. He places his hand on the small of your back, then Satoru hands you both a glass of champagne, winking at you.
You walk out with him, god his big hand feels good there, it feels so natural. For years upon years you had a thing for him, but it seems you all had really just stayed friends, he’s kept in touch even though you’ve been abroad, but it seemed merely friendly. He watched your Insta and liked a couple pictures, made a couple comments, you two hadn’t even had a phone call.
You realize just how much you missed that dark, husky voice when you both step out back to Satoru’s balcony, it’s high up on a hill, giving the perfect view of the sky and of the city lights below. You lean against the glass railing, watching the sky glittering, stars twinkling, the moon a crescent shimmering and reflected on the water overlooking the pretty lake below.
“This is so nice, I missed the beauty here.” Suguru looks at you, at the breeze gently blowing your hair back, revealing your beautiful face in the night.
“I missed the beauty too.” He says, you look at him then, incredulously, and his heart hammers, like he’s a dumb teenager and not twenty two now.
“What do you mean, did you leave here for a bit?” You ask, and he exhales then, stepping closer to you, two fingers tilting your chin up, and you feel your body react, your pulse fluttering.
“I mean your beauty. You don’t just look great, fuck I am dumb sometimes, I suck at expressing…”
“Sugu, it's fine.”
“It’s not. You look breathtaking.” His violet eyes glimmer, dark lashes hovering over them, the words not computing in your muddled mind. “That’s as close to the word that describes you as I can think.”
“Breathtaking? I… that’s too…” You’re glad it’s dark, so he can’t see his effects on you, but surely he catches the rise and fall of your chest with the quickening of your breath, and when his thumb brushes over your lower lip, it trembles just a bit. “You really think so?”
He scoffs a bit, sighing. “I’ve always thought so, I’ve always thought you were beautiful, even when we were kids. I’m sure I’ve… said it.”
“N-no. Um, you have said pretty but I thought you meant it as a friend?” Suguru sighs again, looking back into your eyes, hand still on your chin.
“There are a few memories I’d like to look back on with you, do you think you can listen to them tonight? If I promise you the best New Years Eve kiss ever?” You giggle then, looking down shyly, hands roaming gently up his hard abdomen, fingers clutching the soft fabric just so.
“I get a kiss from Suguru Geto? Wasn’t the last one… gosh, prom?” He nods then, smirking just a bit.
“That will be one of the stories.”
“And do I get a kiss for each one?” You tease, raising a brow.
“Do you want five kisses?”
“Five! Sounds like it’d be more than kisses, hmm?” Suguru’s hair falls over his shoulder gently, his free hand pressing against the nip of your waist, and something clicks then, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.
He knows this is where he is supposed to be, gazing down at your beautiful face, your lips parted just so, eyes dilating when his thumb presses against your ribcage under the swell of your breast. He watches your breath hitch, as his own does, when he feels your body, the curve of your waist, over the sequined dress he’d die to take off of you.
“I could kiss you everywhere.” You let this sound escape, this little cry that you quickly get embarrassed by, but he shakes his head, pulling you closer. “I’ll demonstrate a bit.”
“Y-yeah?” He chuckles against your ear, breath tickling.
“Yeah.” He kisses right behind your ear, a little press of firm lips, that touch alone has you aching, reeling, when his tongue flicks against your skin, your hands clutch him tightly, earning his quiet moan at your reaction.
“Sugu, I've also wanted to tell you something, something I really have been wanting to say for so long.” Suguru kisses your neck again, inhaling your scent, before nodding and pulling back.
“After my stories.” He says with a turn to his lips, you laugh softly.
“Yeah? All right. First one, shoot.” You pick up your glass off the railing, he picks his up as well. “Thought you were gonna have a smoke?”
“Trying to quit soon.” He admits, pulling one out then, leaning on the rail and looking at you, clinking your glasses. “Light for me?”
“Sure.” You take the lighter, hands just a little shaky when you flick it, the flame burns the cherry of his slim white cigarette, he takes an inhale, careful to blow the smoke up and away from you, then he takes a sip of the champagne, as do you.
“First story starts on the day we met, do you remember?” You smile fondly, nodding then.
*****
The First time Suguru Geto tried to confess his feelings - Age 11- Grade Five
Suguru Geto was staring at you, the new girl in the school, how could he not when you were just so cute? He thinks you’re the cutest girl he has seen, actually, and Satoru, his best friend, was snickering behind him as he just stared. “You think she’s cute!”
“No!” Suguru hissed, but Satoru was snorting in laughter, as you all played in the playground, it was winter time that year, and a light dusting of snow was on the ground, coating the grass in white.
“Hey, new girl!” Satoru shouted, you turned then, you were just reading a book rather than playing, Suguru found it so interesting, how your glasses sat just so on the bridge of your nose, which is a little red from the cold.
“Yeah?” You closed the book, standing and walking up to them both, Satoru had begun nudging Suguru in the shoulder, when your eyes met for the first time.
Gosh, he’s so cute, you thought, he literally looked afraid though as he stared at you with wide violet eyes. You worry then, is there something on your face!? The way he stared, you start to feel like something must be wrong with you, especially when he didn’t say anything, and instead his white haired best friend stepped closer to you, grinning.
“What’s your name, new girl?” He asked, you softly tell them, and Suguru repeated your name softly, as he continued to stare.
“Um, is there something on my face?” You asked him then, gloved hand coming to an overheated cheek. Suguru sputtered, and Satoru laughed then.
“Nah, he thinks you’re cute. I think he likes you.” Satoru had declared in a sing-song voice, and you felt it, your heart fluttering at the thought of such a cute boy liking you.
Suguru doesn’t like you though, he thinks he has fallen in love at first sight, maybe that sounds silly, but how else can he explain this?
“You think I’m cute?” You asked shyly, and Suguru shook his head, breaking your little eleven year old heart.
“No, I don’t! I don’t like you.” You gasped then, and Satoru grimaced at his friend's folly, hand on his own face. “I mean, oh my god, I don’t know you… I don’t not like you! I just… don’t think you’re cute. I mean-”
“I… I have to go.” You felt the tears pricking your eyes, embarrassment creeping in, maybe this is a thing, to be mean to the new girl? You turned and ran off.
“You really messed that up. She is cute.” Satoru had said, Suguru glared at him, then frowned when he looked at your retreating figure.
“Satoru, you throw snowballs at the girl you like.”
“It’s better than what you did!” Satoru was stomping his foot. Suguru sighed, running after you, calling your name, you paused, turning then, and he saw your face streaked with tears, it gives him the worst feeling in the world.
“What do you want?” You mumbled, voice breaking. “It’s fine if you don’t like me, but leave me alone.”
“I do! I… I don’t…” Why can’t Suguru say anything?
“Maybe we can be friends anyway?” You asked, sniffling then, and Suguru nodded eagerly, clearing his throat, brushing tears from your cheek then.
“Of course I’m sorry. You’re not… not cute. I…”
“Okay. Then… we are friends? I need friends, all mine are back home.” You were, holding out a hand, he took it in his, nodding with a little smile.
“Friends.”
But eleven year old Suguru knew even then that he didn’t just want to be your friend, no he’d like to always hold your hand, and it felt empty when you turned and walked away, a pretty smile brightening your tear streaked cheeks. Satoru whistled and shook his head when Suguru came back.
“You messed up, Suguru.”
“I know.”
*****
You feel emotions pick at you now, remembering that day like it was yesterday somehow, it’s all fresh in your mind even after all these years. You look down nervously, sipping the champagne and sighing, as Suguru puts out a cigarette now, brushing his hair back and looking down at you.
“I remember all of that. It was so embarrassing, Sugu, why are we going there?” Suguru shakes his head, taking your hand in his now, remembering how it felt to hold your hand the first time, even in both of your winter gloves.
“I did think you were cute, the cutest girl I’d seen.” You giggle a bit, shaking your head. “I did, Satoru put me on the spot, and I froze.”
“He’s good at doing that.” You are stepping closer, looking up at him under your lashes as he towers so tall over you. “I was so nervous, it was my first day, I think you two were the first to talk to me.”
“You had your nose in a book, you always have though.”
“So, why the walk down memory lane?”
Suguru takes a breath, cupping your face, he watches your pupils dilate, feels the heat of your cheeks under his palm, aching for you. “It’s so you know.”
“Know what, you thought the new girl was cute?” He exhales, shaking his head, lips just a centimeter from yours.
“Much more than that. But you needed to know that I liked you.”
“Really!?”
He chuckles. “Yes, really. I hated when you cried, it made me so upset. It always has.”
You gently hold his wrist, thumb pressing against the veins of his inner wrist that pop out of his skin just so, strong arms, strong hands, that make you wonder. “I think I earned one of your kisses.”
“You did, love.”
Love, that little term of endearment breaks you, breaks your resolve, when his plump lips descend, tasting just faintly of smoke, but also sweet like the grape of the champagne against yours.
When Suguru Geto kisses your lips, it takes everything in him now to lift up that dress and taste all of you, when his tongue dives into the sweetness of your mouth gently between the seam of your soft lips. You let out this breathy cry, one that makes him ache for you, fuck he’s getting hard just kissing you, just feeling your tongue glide along his, then you gasp.
“You got your tongue pierced?” You murmur then, when you feel the barbell hit your tongue, he chuckles a bit, thumb brushing along your jawline, making you tremble, you feel it, the wetness sticking against your lacy panties, from a kiss, then when he holds out his tongue?
You’re done.
“Yeah I got it done a couple years back.” You bite your lower lip, mind thinking insane thoughts, picturing just what it could do, and then trying to shove all that back, because you know how much it would mean if you both took that step.
Fuck it would mean too much to you, you don’t know if you can casually hook up with him, to the point you step back a bit. “I can’t.”
He frowns, brows drawing together. “Can’t what?”
“I thought I could maybe… hook up with you. God I want to.” His lips part, narrowed eyes widening now. “But it would be too much for me. I need to… I need to go, I’m sorry.”
“Stop. Please.” He murmurs your name, gripping your hand when you turn away, big hand swallowing your little one, you exhale, looking back up at him. “You think that’s what I want from you, a hook up?”
“No, I said I wanted it. But I don’t think I could be casual, not with you.”
“And you think I could be casual with you?” Your heart is almost thudding so fast you feel dizzy, he pulls you against him again, your eyes go back to his lips. “I wasn’t asking for a ‘hook up’ tonight.”
“If you keep kissing me, that’s what will happen. Your tongue ring is fucking up my brain.” He snorts then, you look down shyly. “I’m not joking.”
“You’re so cute.” You think back on that day again, as does Suguru. “I should have told you then, that you were the cutest girl I’d ever seen.”
“Sugu, we were kids, it’s fine. Don’t worry about things like that.”
“No, I need to tell you another time I didn’t say the right thing.” You shake your head. “Yes, I do. Want another drink for the next story?”
“Just don’t show me that tongue ring please, I don’t think I can handle the horny ass thoughts.” He chuckles again, leaning close, the breeze blowing his sweater just a bit, lining his hard body.
“Think that’s my only piercing?” You bite your lip, mind racing.
“You’re a tease, Suguru Geto.” You whisper softly.
“Not teasing. Another story, should we go inside for the next?” You nod, a little nervous as he guides you through the party, you wave and make small talk with old friends and new faces, when he grabs two more glasses of champagne and takes you by the hand.
“Where are we heading, storyteller? Feel like this is the ghosts of New years past.” He laughs again, fuck when is the last time he laughed this much?
“I have a room here for when I stay, though I don’t often now that Satoru has his girl, they fuck so loud it echoes everywhere.” You snort now, shaking your head.
“It’s wild they ended up together after so long, I didn’t know if they’d ever admit their feelings.” It gets quiet then, between you two, so much left unsaid, because Suguru hasn’t admitted his own feelings, despite helping Satoru finally confess his.
Suguru shuts the door to the room, heading over to the speaker and connecting his phone, putting on one of your favorite songs, sitting on the bed then, leaning casually and patting the spot next to him. You sit down, you’re alone with Suguru Geto, the boy you’ve been head over heels for, since forever.
His heart skips a beat when you sit down, and sip your drink, smiling curiously at him, the longing just growing with every breath you take. “You remember this?”
“Of course I do. It’s going to fit into my next story.”
“Can I pick the next spot you kiss? Shit that’s so forward oh my-”
“Shh.” Suguru has a finger on your lips. “Yes, you can pick anywhere on your pretty little body.” His words fuck what’s left of your mind, one of his hand casually brushing against your bare thigh.
“Pretty little body?” You whisper back.
“Very, very pretty. Are you ready for more of me admitting I absolutely was trash at communicating?” His violet eyes glint just a bit with humor, you sip your drink, scooching just a little closer, nodding then.
“I’m ready. Where to next?”
“Middle School.”
*****
The Second time Suguru Geto tried to confess his feelings - Age 14- Grade Eight
You and Suguru had a school project together, and he had to admit he was so nervous for you to be here, in his house, in his room. You were laying on your tummy on the floor, feet kicked up in the air, little silver anklets on your ankles dangling just so as you swung them back and forth, as you drew all over the giant poster board, shading it in as you go.
“You’re really good at art.” Suguru said softly, you smiled brightly at the compliment, lighting up your pretty face, your braces just adding to it.
“Oh thanks Suguru, you’re always so nice. I’m so glad we’re friends.” You said, sitting up then, on your knees, a hand on his shoulder fondly.
With glasses and braces, some kids picked on you here and there, but Suguru and Satoru never let anyone mess with you, so people backed off rather quickly when the boys getting taller and bigger than everyone stood up for you. Especially Suguru, he was the first to defend from any standpoint.
When your hand touched his shoulder he blushed, and you tilted your head curiously at him. “Are you hot in here, Suguru? Do you have a fan?”
“I… um… yeah. Hot.” He cleared his throat, turning the little fan on in the room, it blew back his hair just so, his growing dark locks blowing back, and your heart faltered just a bit.
He looked like some guy from a book, from a movie you think, riding some horse with his hair blowing like that. When he smiles at you with those tired violet eyes of his, you melt more and more. How were you supposed to only be his friend when he’s that handsome, and you kept imagining your first kiss in your head over and over, wishing that it could be him.
You know you’re probably not his type though, Suguru had girls that flirted with him a lot, and the only couple you’ve seen him with were pretty different from you. You’re a nerdy girl and quiet, so the two of you fall into a comfortable silence often. You imagine maybe he wants someone a little more outgoing, a little more popular, but you’re not sure.
You do know no matter how many times you all hang out, he has never even glanced at you as anything but a friend.
But you’re very wrong.
Every time you look away, Suguru looks at you, and would think just how cute you are doing every little mundane thing you did. His already deep feelings had him writing in his journals about you, and only you, he composed silly poems that absolutely should never see the light of day. You made him feel so silly, he should just share it with you, right?
He’s brought back to you gently putting your hand down, scooching close to him on the soft carpet of his bedroom, leaning back against the bed. “Suguru, can I ask something personal?”
“Of course. Yes, I am a spy, undercover. You knew?” You snort at that, rolling your eyes.
“Knew it. No, um… you’ve… have you ever kissed?”
Suguru’s heart literally stopped at that moment, god he thinks the room is spinning, as those words casually came from your lips, lips that had sparkly gloss on them, that he’s currently staring at now. He gulps, and you nervously wet them, doing far too many things to his teenage brain, that already runs at half capacity when in your presence.
“Have I what!?”
“Oh that’s too personal? I’m sorry… I just haven’t yet, and I feel like everyone else has. Is it the braces? Or… am I too shy? Not… maybe not pretty enough. Suguru, do you think I’ll get prettier when I get these off?” You asked, and he glared at you, long lashes lowering. “Am I asking too much?”
“You’re… you’re so…” Say it, say it, say it.
“So…” You lead him to finish but he takes a breath then, shocking you when he cupped your face gently, your hands came to his wrists, breath catching when he leaned over you.
“You’re pretty with braces, or without, okay?” You felt your own cheeks heat up, when he leaned closer, his silky hair falling to the side.
“Thank you, you’re the best friend.” You whispered, the word friend made him sick almost. “You made me feel better.”
“I’ve kissed before, I can show you. If… if you want.” He said then, and you nodded nervously, it’s a friend showing you a kiss, right?
When Suguru’s lips found yours that day, while your favorite song played on the radio, it was like some electric current ran through you, his lips pressing just so gently on yours, careful and sweet, his hand on your face pressed just a bit more. You gasped out, pulling back, eyes shooting up to his, his lips were just so glossy, covered in a bit of your glitter, making you giggle.
“You’re glittery.” You teased softly, and he licked his lips to taste the gloss.
“Strawberry?” You nodded nervously, your hands went to his shoulders.
“Can I try again? Like what do I do with… the tongue and all that?” Suguru gulped then, you were literally killing him.
“That’s making out. You just um… I don’t know how to explain. I can show you again?”
“Sure.” You both kissed once more, his tongue darted in your mouth, making you gasp at the sensation, you felt so warm, butterflies in your tummy, as you tried to move your tongue back. You felt so awkward in his comparison, the ease in which he moved, he seemed so smooth, so practiced.
But he enjoyed it, he enjoyed it so much, how sweet you were, and how much he wanted to kiss you every moment of every day. You tentatively moved your lips, your tongue, at certain points you sighed and leaned even further against him, Suguru lost himself in you, imagined that this was all real, that you were his girlfriend, that he could tell you the truth.
Soon you both heard a knock on the door, and you both separated quickly, nearly jumping apart.
“Hey mom.” He said, as she smiled at you both.
“Do you all want anything to eat? I’m cooking dinner.”
“Oh I can’t stay, mom will want me back home, but thank you!”
“Of course sweetie. Alright well it is six, so you may want to head home soon if you are all done.” She smiled as she walked out, leaving you to nervously gather your things.
You just kissed Suguru Geto.
Your first kiss!
You opened your mouth, then shut it. How do you tell him your feelings?
“Um, that was really nice. Kissing you.” You whispered, wondering if that was okay, but Suguru was still reeling, kissing you was nothing like kissing the other girls, it was… just, different, it was special.
“Oh, um yeah.” Was all he said then, and you stood there, blinking up at him, as he struggled to form the right words.
Tell her.
He said nothing, however. The silence was loud while you both stood there in that awkward silence, until you felt so mortified, embarrassed beyond belief. He was just showing you as a friend, why would you expect him to feel what you do? He probably felt sorry for you if anything, you immediately turned to leave, he stopped you with a gentle hand on the shoulder.
He cursed himself internally, why couldn’t he reassure you, why couldn’t he tell you that he has never felt this way!? When your eyes were just a bit glassy, and he saw your lips were just a little swollen from his kisses, you look even prettier, so pretty and perfect just how you are, that he was intimidated to say it. He was terrified, were you just wanting a friend to show you?
Was he overthinking it?
Were you overthinking it?
“I’m… you… you’re…”
“Suguru, what is it?” You asked, blinking just a bit and tilting your glasses up, he brushed your hair back, clearing his throat, your lips parted just a bit.
“You’re not bad at it.” Your face falls, the hopes just shattered, and Suguru could sense it, sputtering, what the heck was coming out of his mouth!?
“That’s good I guess?”
He can’t think of what to say, that he wants to kiss you again, that he wants to ask you to be his girl. How could he fuck it all up this bad!?
You felt so emotional you turned away again. “Bye Suguru.”
He’d shut the door behind you, resting his head on it, seeing your sad face in his mind until he closed his eyes that night. He kept looking at his phone, but he couldn’t reach out. He didn’t wanna mess up even more.
*****
You bite your lower lip now, it’s quiet as the song fades in the background, the same song that had played when he kissed you. “Was I so bad at it?”
“God no, I wanted to tell you then, but I couldn’t.” He leans close to you, eyes drinking you in. “You were beautiful then, and now. And you were the best kiss I had, you are the best kiss I’ve had.”
You gasp in surprise, brows together as you look into his eyes, as his hand on your thigh slips up just a bit, the contact making heat pool between your thighs. You look down, at his strong, tanned hand so casually touching you, before looking back up at him, letting his words set in.
“You were my first kiss, and you… are still my best kiss too.”
He blinks. “I am?”
You smile softly, brushing his hair back behind his ear, fingertip running along his gaged earring then. “Oh Sugu, you're so silly. Of course you are, I thought you didn’t like it, or felt bad for me?”
“No, no… no. I should have said it then, something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?”
He smirks now. “First you get a kiss, anywhere you want, remember?” Your mind goes to the most lewd places, you raise a brow.
“Anywhere?” He laughs softly.
“Anywhere.” His voice is husky, so deep, the timbre just adding to your addled senses, but you can’t just be like- kiss my pussy Sugu thanks- so you look where his hand is touching you now.
“There.” You gesture to your upper thigh, Suguru kneels then, shocking you as you look down at him, between your thighs, leaning low, the sexiest thing you can imagine seeing. You whimper, you fucking whimper when he presses his lips on your inner thigh gently, looking up at you.
“Here? Or… here.” He kisses higher, you grit your teeth to hold in another embarrassing cry, hips arching just a bit off the bed.
“There, actually.” You whisper, tapping your other thigh. “You have to make it even now.”
“Oh, of course.” He kisses your other soft inner thigh, fuck he can see those lacy panties peeking out under your dress, the plump lips of your pussy visible, along with a wet spot forming, making him throb under his jeans. His hands grip your calves, feeling the muscles tense under his hands, kissing up your other thigh.
He watches your head fall back, your eyes fluttering shut. “Sugu…”
“Yes, love? Somewhere else?” He stands now, leaning over you, fingertips trailing up your inner thighs and higher, leaving a network of goosebumps in their wake.
“Can I be greedy and get another kiss here?” You tap your lips, he smiles softly, nodding, then he’s kissing you, pressing your back into the mattress, and you swear you’d just have his fucking babies at this point when you feel him, hard under his jeans, pressing against your aching cunt. “Ah!”
“You okay?” He whispers, you nod eagerly, too eager, yanking him down against you, tongues moving, messy and sloppy, his kiss so intense you have to pull away to suck in a breath. “Fuck.”
“Y-yeah. F-fuck.” You manage to whisper back, he leans up on one arm, your hands slip under his sweater, feeling his hot skin, his taut perfect abdomen. “Do I need three more stories? I’ll die.”
He laughs softly, kissing down your neck, your hands grip his back, hips arching, he feels your heat against his cock. “Are you so needy for me, Princess?”
“Princess!? I’m already wet, stop.”
“Oh, I can feel that.” You’re heating up when he reaches down, rubbing you over your panties, then his violet eyes dilate, and he moans. “Oh, you’re that wet? Fuck.”
“Embarrassing.” You mumble, he shakes his head, thumb pressing against your clothed clit, fabric so damp it’s pathetic, his touch feels so good you could almost cum from his little circles.
You’re not like this, what does Suguru do to you?
“One more story and I’ll make your pretty pussy cum.” He says in your ear, your head falls back, when he nips it with his teeth.
“Oh fine, but Sugu we need to cool off or you’re not making it.” He smirks down at you, making your eyes narrow. “You’re getting cocky about this.”
“Getting you this wet, oh yes.” He laps the sticky clear arousal off his thumb, thin nostrils flaring then, he moans, as your mouth opens at the action. “You taste so sweet, oh my god.”
“Sugu…”
“Shit, yeah, come on.” He exhales and you both fix yourself a bit, you both down your drinks and he then leads you down the stairs, holding your hand as he does, earning the grins of your friends, including Satoru’s girlfriend.
Just this Christmas they’d finally gotten together after a lifetime of just being friends, Suguru hopes and wonders if something is in the air, as he tastes your sweetness still on his tongue, mixing with the champagne. “You all were up there a while, but not long enough.” Gojo teases.
“He’s regaling me with stories.” Gojo’s girlfriend giggles then.
“Oh, let me guess, five of them?” She teases, as Gojo yanks her closer.
“It’s the formula.” Suguru pulls you away then, as a song starts.
“Let’s dance?” You agree, smiling as he holds you in his arms, fuck it feels so good, his strong arms wrapping your hips, it’s nothing like the dances you remember with him before, not when he pulls you against him, and his thigh presses between you, torturing you when you roll your hips. He leans close, as your friends watch, kissing you in front of everyone then.
Something you never, ever thought he’d do.
Something he’d been dying to do.
He pulls back, turning you, your back against him as you rock side to side, pressing kisses down the side of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in pleasure, ass arching against him, his big hand splaying your waist completely as it presses gently over your tummy.
“Having you in my arms? Am I having some dream.” He murmurs, surprising you then.
“You, having a dream about me?”
God, if you only knew what he dreams of, all the positions he’d have you in, the ways he’d make you cum for him. But also little things, like having coffee in the morning on the balcony with you, sweet little intimate moments he can picture so very vividly, like waking up with you in his arms, smiling at him sleepily.
“I have so many times while you’ve been gone. God I missed you.” Suguru turns you back around then, hands finding purchase on your waist, the entire room fades away then, it’s just you two.
Just like that night, the one where Suguru failed again.
“Third story, I’m ready. What’s the next story, Sugu?”
He grins, white teeth glinting. “So eager to cum, hmm?”
“Shush.” Your arms wrap his neck, fingers playing with his long silky locks. “Go on then, what grade are we travelling to?”
“We’re up to sophomore year now.”
*****
The Third time Suguru Geto tried to confess his feelings - Age 16- Grade Ten
 You were at this party after Satoru and Suguru had won the state championship for your school. It was an insane party you’d had to sneak out to go to, your mom thought you were at Shoko’s house, her mom thought she was at your house. You’re both giggling as you sit next to each other now, in a circle with a ton of your friends and a vodka bottle someone had snatched.
It’s spinning currently, Suguru was looking at you then, he was the one who had spun it, he watched you bite your lip, he studied you carefully, in bits and pieces, looking away every time you catch his gaze. Since that night in eighth grade you all had stayed great friends, but now Suguru knew how it was to kiss you, and no other girl had such an effect.
He had so many journals of you it’s embarrassing.
You had so many diaries of him it’s embarrassing.
You kept looking at him, at his jaw line, at him smiling and sipping on a soda as he watched everyone at the party, ever observant and aware, and even more handsome as you all grew up. Suguru and Satoru were two of the most popular boys there were, and they had their dedicated fans. You’d gotten your braces off and gotten contacts, you suppose you’re sort of popular by association of your friends, but nothing like them.
Suguru missed your glasses, he missed how they sat on the bridge of your nose, though he does enjoy seeing more of your pretty eyes now, not that you knew that.
Suguru had a girl by his side who was whispering something in his ear. You hated that you felt it like a punch to the gut, sipping your drink nervously to choke down the sensation. Shoko leans in, giving you a knowing look in her dark brown eyes. “You should just tell him.”
“Tell who what?” She snorted at you, rolling her eyes and wrapping her arm around your shoulders.
“You’ve got it bad baby, it’s painfully obvious.” You sighed, looking back at Suguru again, catching his violet gaze across the circle, and you busied yourself looking back at Shoko, whispering in her ear.
“Am I that obvious?”
“Oh yeah. He likes you too, you know?”
“No way. He’s never said so.” Shoko had leaned over and poured a little vodka in your cup, you gasp. “Shoko!”
“For courage.” You sipped it and winced, earning her laughter, when the bottle stopped, and it was just a bit from you… it’s on Shoko. “Yuck.”
“Yuck.” He agreed, and Satoru was laughing maniacally.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss.”
“Oh whatever.” Shoko leaned close, disgust plain on her pretty features. “I’ll puke after this.”
You giggled a bit at her expression, she leaned over, as did Suguru, and you watched their lips press together, but Satoru booed when they pulled back quickly, as did everyone in the circle. “You have to make out, you know the rules.”
They both grimace, and kiss each other again, Suguru’s eyes caught yours as he did, as he pictured kissing you instead, long lashes fluttering and casting shadows along his high cheekbones. You felt sick then, downing more of the strong drink with cheap vodka, as you saw the love of your teenage life kiss your best friend, his hand cupping her face.
Everyone whistled after that, and the worst part is it looked like Suguru enjoyed it, but he only did in any way because of looking at you, picturing your lips on his. Was your lip gloss still strawberry, he wondered? Was it another flavor? And when he caught your gaze, he could see you’re upset, and he wondered why. It can’t be you liked him, it had been years and you’ve never brought it up again.
Friends.
Best friends.
Shoko had wiped her lips in disgust as everyone laughed, and then it was Satoru’s turn, he spun the bottle and winked over at Suguru. “Hope it’s you baby boy.”
“Shut up, Satoru, ugh.” Suguru grumbled, his eyes kept flitting to you, watching Shoko pour more liquor in your cup, when Satoru’s bottle landed directly at you.
Shit.
Satoru leaned in close, lips against Suguru’s ear. “You don’t like her like that anyway, right? So no big deal.”
“Yeah.” He managed to try to spit out that lie, and Satoru knew it, rolling his blue eyes.
“Yeah? Won’t care?” Suguru shook his head, when you scooted to the middle of the circle, on your knees, your little pleated skirt spread just so, killing Suguru then. You had looked at him with something deep in your pretty eyes, before looking back at Satoru.
“Are we doing this?” You asked nervously, Satoru smirked charmingly, nodding and cupping your face, before descending his lips on yours.
Suguru wanted to punch his one best friend for kissing his other best friend, he’s never felt so mad, so sick as when he had to see Satoru kissing you. His fists clenched at his sides, anger coursing through his veins, at himself. His breath caught in his throat, Nanami and Shoko were whispering and looking right at him, your eyes were fluttering shut, like you enjoyed it.
Why wouldn’t you? You weren’t with Suguru, he shouldn’t expect you to just know what he thinks, how he felt, but when Satoru was pulling you against him, putting on a show, Suguru was losing the little control he had. Your hands came to rest on Satoru’s shoulders, wrecking Suguru then, he couldn’t handle it, the longing, the need for you, the desire to rip his friend off you.
You were kissing Satoru Gojo that night, and sure, it felt good, but it felt like a friendly press of lips at first. Then, Satoru surprised you, he was moving his tongue against yours, making you gasp as his big hands pressed your waist, you hadn’t been kissed like that.
Satoru had pulled back and whispered in your ear. “Gotta make it look good, look how mad he is.”
“Mad? No way.” You shook your head, Satoru chuckled, kissing you once more, your eyes found Suguru then, standing and turning, making you gently push Gojo away. “What are you trying to do?” You had asked him, glaring at his antics.
“Get him to admit his feelings.” Satoru winked now. “Oh you’re a good kisser by the way.”
You’re a blushing mess. “Go after him.” Nanami’s voice said softly behind you.
“Should I?” You ask, they nod, and you had taken a breath for courage, hopping up and running after Suguru, finding him alone out front of the little white house full of so many people. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he turned to look at you.
“Suguru, are you okay?” You asked softly, he sighed, shaking his head, looking at your lips, just a little glossy and swollen.
“No.” You stepped closer, shivering a bit, he took his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders, rubbing your arms gently under it, warming you with the contact, making the butterflies soar in your tummy.
“Why?” You asked, he had tilted his head, opening his mouth, closing it, then opening it again.
“I didn’t like it.”
“Me kissing Satoru?”
“Yeah.” He said, but did not elaborate.
You blink a bit, looking down. “I didn’t like you kissing Shoko.”
“You didn’t?” You both stepped closer, the alcohol was new to you, it’s hitting a bit, and that plus him leaning so close made you dizzy, made you want to kiss him so badly, and only him. “Why not?”
“Why didn’t you, Sugu?”
He sighed, cupping your face, brushing your silky hair back, his jaw tensing just a bit. “I just… I don't like it. Did you like kissing him?”
“I mean, he’s a good kisser.” The words bring you back then, and you step back, surprising him. “I guess I wasn’t then, was I?”
“What now?” His eyes narrow.
“In your room, do you even remember? It’s probably nothing to you, but it was my only kiss until just now.” His lips parted in surprise, and you feel embarrassment creeping up.
“Only kiss till now? But guys are all after you. Look at you.” His gaze had darted down, making your breath come in little pants.
“You like looking at me?” You asked softly, he scoffed then, looking to the side, seeing cars drift down the road.
How can you not know?
“That’s a dumb question.”
You blink then, before glaring. “Excuse me for asking, I guess I should know you don’t even see me that way.”
“What?” You were handing him his jacket, feeling tears prick your eyes.
“Why do you say things like that!? That you don’t like me with someone, when you’ll never have interest in me. No matter how pretty I try to look around you, it’s not like you care, I’m just your friend.” You turned and stomped away, confusing the shit out of him then.
“You’re drunk or something, you’re not just walking off into the night. And you’re wrong, you know.” He turned you back to face him, throwing the coat back on you, the moonlight glinted off your tears, tears that broke him. “Don’t cry please. You’re… you’re…”
“I’m what?”
“You’re pretty, okay? I notice.” You gasped, and Suguru wondered just how you were so oblivious, or was he that good at hiding it. “I notice a lot about you, all the time.”
“Why have you never even asked me out?” You asked boldly then, and he just stared at you. “Will we only be friends? I need to know, Sugu, because I hold back constantly, in this silly dream.”
“Hold back?”
“Yes. Why do you think you were the only kiss? I hoped you’d want to again, one day. But I think I’m wrong here.” Suguru tilted your chin up, leaning down so close you taste his sweet breath.
“Thought you liked the kiss with Satoru, hmm?” His thumb brushed over your lower lip, shocks were running through you.
“Not like our-”
“Suguru!” The girl that had been all over him most of the party came out giggling then with two more girlfriends, Suguru pulled back, and you felt your heart break into pieces, when you took the coat off and handed it to him, rage seething through you along with embarrassment.
“Hey, it's your friend!” They waved at you, and you smiled politely, Suguru just watched you, not saying anything, coat in his hand.
“Come on back in, they’re doing seven minutes in heaven Sugu.” Another girl teased, you stare at each other then, you ached for him to say something, say anything, but he cleared his throat, holding out a hand to you.
“Wanna go back in?” He asked, a fake smile on his face.
“Sure.” You don’t take his hand, but soon he has girls all over him, as you all return to the party, and he’s sent to that closet for seven minutes with one of those girls, Shoko is rubbing your shoulder gently.
“Did you say how you feel?”
“I tried, I tried. But he doesn’t say anything Shoko, he just shuts down.”
“He does that sometimes, but I swear he really likes-” Her vision went to the opening door, people were all whistling and making comments, you turned and saw him, with lipstick all over his cheek and neck, and the girl was giggling. His eyes caught yours, his face falling then.
“Let’s go home, please.”
*****
The memories hit so hard you can’t breathe for a moment, Suguru’s face is serious, you all aren’t dancing any longer. Remembering seeing him out of that closet feels as fresh as ever somehow. Now you’re in his strong arms, and he watches those tears back in your eyes, hating himself for them.
“I didn’t kiss her.” His voice brings you back to the present.
You blink in surprise. “What?”
“I never kissed her. She didn’t wanna get made fun of, so she asked if she could plant some kisses on my cheek, she was getting pressured by some friends. So I agreed and let her, but the rest of the time we talked, and I thought about you, fuck I felt horrible after.” You step back then, taking a breath.
“I need air.” You walk back outside, Suguru follows you then, your eyes are shut as it all sinks in.
“I’m sorry, I know that night was terrible, and after…”
“I got a boyfriend like a week after.” You say, when he stands behind you, hands on your bare shoulders, he leans over you, kissing one, making you tremble. “I was so hurt and upset I dated the first guy who asked me.”
“Shit.” Is all he manages, and you laugh without humor, resting back against his warm, hard body.
“Yeah, shit.”
“I wanted to kill Satoru, he did it to get a reaction, and he got one, but I still couldn’t open up. I couldn’t tell you that I wanted to kiss you.” You turn then, looking up at him, head falling back just so, seeing his own emotions now, making his violet eyes glisten, adam's apple bobbing as he gulps. “I only ever wanted to kiss you.”
“Suguru…” You’re crying when he captures your lips again in his, taking a breath against him, shaking with emotion. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
“Every time I tried I closed up. Then I fucked it all up, and… then you dated that guy for like almost a year.”
“I know. I wanted to get the silly idea of us becoming more pushed back in my brain. But… I never stopped…”
“Me either.” You both rest your foreheads together now, emotions coursing through you both. What seemed like a silly high school night had meant so much, and done so much damage. “We weren’t as close after that, I wanted to make it right, but I think I just fucked it up more.”
“No more stories for a minute.” He nods then, brushing your tears away gently, the love for you swelling more and more, he’s so ready to tell you, for you to know everything in his heart and soul.
“Let’s finish the other story on the way to my house.” You heat up then at the thought, eyes darting back at his lips.
“Are you inviting me to stay the night?” He moans softly, pressing your back against the railing, hands sliding down your arms gently, a thigh pressing between your own, right where you’re so hot for him. Your head falls back, hips arching just so, he feels you so wet against him.
“If you want to, shit I’d let you move in.” You giggle, shaking your head, but he’s dead serious. “I would, fuck I’d let you do anything you want, just to see you every day, just to hear your voice. After all these years, just pictures, just memories.” His voice is hoarse, as his hands slip across the sides of your breasts. “The real thing is finally here, and I don’t intend to let you go.”
“I missed your voice.” You admit, sniffling now, cupping his face and running your fingers along his jaw. “I missed you so much, god I just wanted to call.”
“I did too, god I kept dialing it and hanging up, I kept… dreaming of you.”
“I did too, Sugu.” He sighs now, as he holds you in his embrace, and it feels so perfect, to be in his arms.
You were always supposed to be here.
“Why all the stories, to make me cry my makeup off hmm?” You tease, trying to ease the tension, he smiles, shaking his head.
“Not a drop out of place, you’re perfect, Princess.”
Princess, you’re gonna die.
You bite your lower lip now, arching your hips just so, his hand trails down your tummy, it trembles under his touch. “Will you come spend the night at my house? So I can kiss you in more places?”
“Oh yeah?” He nods, smiling.
“I already owe you an orgasm for this one, don’t I?” The casual way he says those words wrecks your psyche.
“You do. Leaving me edged, you’re cruel Sugu.” He snorts softly at that, shaking his head.
“I’ll make up for it. Come on.”
“Oh you’re having a VIP party huh?” Satoru wiggles his white brows, smacking Suguru on the back. “You remember how to do it anymore? I have tips.”
“Oh fuck you Satoru.” You giggle a bit, raising a brow.
“It’s been a while?” You ask teasingly.
“Just a bit, is all. I assure you I know how it works.” His timbre is low as he whispers in your ear, making you ache.
“I believe you. It’s been a while for me too.” You whisper, he exhales, picturing everything he’s going to do to you.
“We’ll make up for it.”
“Get out before you fuck right here, god.” Shoko says, and your friends are grinning maniacally, basically shooing you all away.
“They planned all of this, didn’t they?” Suguru says, walking next to you now, you nod with a little smile.
“When aren’t they scheming something? Oh… is this your car, holy shit!” Suguru blushes a little, nodding as he opens the door for you, his sleek black sports car worth more than anything you own likely, but it doesn’t surprise you. Satoru and Suguru had killed it in sports, and both were making a lot of money. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Soon he’s shut your door and started up the car, leaning close to you, studying your face carefully, as if committing it all to memory. He studies you like you’re a beautiful work of art, and he’s a connoisseur, like you’re the most precious thing there is. And that is what made you always feel so special, how he looked at you, how you captured his full attention, even as a friend.
“Where is the spot you want a kiss?” He asks softly, you look around nervously, you all are in a car right in front of Satoru’s place still. “They’re very tinted.”
“Oh. Um.” You pull down your top then, and his throat goes dry when he sees them, your perfect breasts that gently bounce out, your nipples pronounced and begging for attention.
“Jesus Christ.” Is all he manages to say hoarsely, bending low, gripping your breasts in his huge hands, you cry out at it, nipples getting harder in his touch. “You’re perfect.”
“You don’t have to say-”
“You are. You are so perfect.” You feel a whirl of emotions, desire, love, pure fucking bliss when he runs his tongue around one areola, before sucking one into his hot mouth, moaning.
“Suguru!” Your hands entangle in his locks, back arching, one of his hands pulls you against him, the other gripping your breast, as his barbell flicks on it, and you’re getting soaked, so wet your panties are sticking. “Oh my god…”
Your voice is a breathy cry, urging him on more when he sucks on your other perky nipple. “Can’t wait to taste you everywhere.”
“Mnnh.” You yank him back up, kissing him over and over, it’s hungry and desperate, it’s full of a longing you’ve both had for over a decade, it’s needy and messy, so fucking messy. He’s got you on his lap, you’re grinding against him, pulling back for a gasp of air. “Sugu, I can’t make it to your house.”
“Lemme make you cum, Princess. Yeah?” You nod eagerly, he positions his arm so his fingers slip under your barrier, earning his groan, his eyes dilating so much they’re almost black when he feels you. “Oh my god, feel her, she’s so wet for me, isn’t she?”
You just nod weakly, when he’s teasing your entrance with his fingertip, before sinking in, you scream out at it, breasts pressing against his chest as he sinks one fully in, stretching your slick walls. You’re blinded when he finds that spongy little spot, pressing like he’s known your body forever, making you feel better with one finger than anything ever has.
“You’re so tight, fuck.” He whispers, you’re squeezing him like a vise when he slips two in, stretching you out, hearing the squelching wetness in his car now. He watches your face contorted in pleasure, his cock straining against his pants. He has precum leaking against them, so ready to be inside you. “You’re close already, aren’t you, pretty girl?”
“Please.” Is all you manage, rocking on his hand now, dripping all down him, crying out your pleasure into his lips, as he works you so well, long fingers hitting your spot again and again. “M’close, y-yes.”
“I can feel her, let go Princess. Let go for me.” He’s talking you through it as his thumb finds your clit with the pad of his thumb, and it’s over, you’re shattering for him, cumming so hard you can’t even see then, and he watches you as you fall apart. “That’s it Princess, good girl.”
“Sugu, Sugu- mmm!” You’re shaking as the orgasm wracks through your body, as his fingers slow in your sloppy cunt, so wet it’s fucking stupid, curling them just so to prolong the orgasm even more, until you’re weak. You clutch at his shirt desperately, thighs shaking. “Oh my g-god… what… you’ve been holding out on me this whole t-time!?”
He chuckles, cupping your face now, but not before sucking your arousal off his fingers, kissing you and letting the flavor of you mix with both of your mouths. “Can this hold you for two more stories?” He teases softly, you sigh.
“God I want more though.” You run a hand down his length, he pauses you, shaking his head.
“Not yet, I’ll die.” You’re blushing at the effect you have on him, his thumb runs along your inner wrist, as both of you gather your breaths.
“I don’t do this, I don’t get this way…”
“You still think that I want a hookup? No.” He cups your face, dragging your lips back down to his, as your fears melt. “I’ve waited forever for you, we can wait just a little longer.”
“Forever?” You ask softly, he nods, gulping and then easing you off him, adjusting himself with a wince, you giggle a bit, earning his glare.
“You laugh at my pain, hmm?”
“I’m flattered.”
“You seatbelt up.” He murmurs, leaning across and buckling you in, an arm around the back of your seat as he looks back and reverses, then he turns toward the road, which is surprisingly quiet. You lean against him then, head on his strong shoulder, it feels perfect, despite the nerves.
Would you be good at it? It had been forever.
“So it’s been a while.” Sugu teases, as if reading your thoughts, you grimace and bury your face against him. “It’s fine, you know. It’s been like ten months for me.”
“You? How. Aren’t women all over you?”
“Not the one I want.” You feel the happiness swell at that, looking up at him in the night, the red light you all stop at casting a glow across his handsome face, bathing it in soft red when he looks at you. “I also only really have sex in relationships.”
“Me too, actually. Um… it's been like two years for me.”
“Shit, yeah?” You nod nervously, clearing your throat.
“Yeah, and before that? Freshman year of college. I’ve only been with a couple people, I know that sounds lame.” You’re fidgeting nervously with your hands.
“It’s not, not at all. You’re picky hmm?”
“I wanted some dark haired broody man, one who lived so far away.” Suguru’s jaw tenses, the light goes green but he’s kissing you before he pulls off, exhaling as your words hit him.
“You wanted me?”
“God yes. Want you.” You lean closer, kissing up his neck and unclipping your seatbelt. “Should I show you how much?”
“You are not going to suck me before I eat your pussy. I’m a gentleman, mmkay?” You giggle now, he peeks at you with a tortured expression. “Seriously, I won’t last one stroke if you don’t stop.”
“Oh fine. I was going to see if I have any skills left!”
“I’ll teach you again.” His husky voice melts you all over, you stop the teasing strokes on his hard length, much to his relief, as a couple of more strokes and he’d cum in his pants and embarrass himself. “Alright, let's get this next story going, yeah? We’re at prom now.”
“Oh…”
*****
The Fouth time Suguru Geto tried to confess his feelings - Age 18- Grade Twelve- Prom Night
Suguru couldn’t stop his mouth from dropping that night when he saw you, in your beautiful prom dress, this little red number that clung to you in places that wrecked his brain. You typically were a little more covered up, so for Suguru to see the love of his life’s body like this, it was difficult to function, like you had short circuited his brain, well what was left of it.
It’s about to be the end of high school, and you and Suguru had grown a little distant, despite still having a good friendship. Suguru had been dating this girl for a few months, and they had been intimate already, he had always hoped his first time would be you, but you also were dating someone again. Every time he would think for a moment he could admit his feelings, something got in the way.
At this point he had just tried to focus on being a good friend to you, to have you in his life in any capacity, the journals he penned growing dusty as he lived his life, with sports and school. Friends and a girlfriend, who was then in his arms, dancing with Suguru, despite the person that he wanted, you, were standing there all alone suddenly, tiny in the center of the dance floor.
Your date had left you, right in the middle of prom on the dance floor, you were mortified then, when Nanami came to your rescue, pulling you in his arms and looking at you with concern. “What happened?”
“Oh Nanami, you don’t have to dance with me.” You murmured, tears pricking your eyes, you felt Suguru’s glance as he danced with his pretty girlfriend, you hated that you wished you were her.
“Nonsense, tell me.” Nanami spins you a bit then, he’s gotten so handsome already, him Suguru and Satoru all had, they were so tall and towering over everyone at the school, buff with pretty features. It wasn’t fair how attractive they all were.
So why then, did it only hurt that Suguru was with someone? You didn’t know if you ever would get over it, some dumb kiss from eighth grade!? It had been over four years, nothing was ever, ever going to happen, why couldn’t you just give it up, why couldn’t you stop comparing any boy you date to the man that he was?
“He wanted to go too fast. I couldn’t.” Nanami’s jaw tensed then. “Nanami don’t beat him up!”
“I will, and I will get Satoru and Suguru-”
“No, no it’s fine! Swear. I love you though.” You leaned up and pecked his cheek, earning a blush on his features, you pulled back shyly. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, darling. But I really think someone is mad now.” He teased, and you saw it, Suguru’s glare.
“We’ll never be anything.” Your whisper was broken, Nanami frowned at it.
“You don’t know that.”
“Look at who he’s with, and he never… I… Nanami I need a minute, okay? I’ll be right back.” He nodded then, and you strode past Suguru as the song ended, heading to sob your worries in the bathroom.
“I’ll be right back.” Suguru had said to his girlfriend, he ran down the empty halls of the school then, watching you turn the corner, hearing your sobs. He faced you then, watching mascara streak on your face, breaking his heart. “What happened, are you okay?”
“Just go!” You surprised him at your emotional outburst, shoving at him. “You just go be happy, okay?”
“But my friend is-”
“Nanami danced with me, I’m fine.” Your voice got so cold, and it made Suguru break down, stepping closer to you. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” He whispered, his hands came to rest on your shoulders, which heaved with your breaths.
“Like you want me. When you never will. Stop giving me hope.” Suguru blinked in confusion at you, how could you think he didn’t want you!?
“What now? You think I don’t want you?” He brushed your hair back, your hands came to sit on his jacket, clutching the fabric, your corsage the same color as the red rose in his pocket, a trembling hand, as your breaths entwined.
“You’re with her.” You had whispered.
“And you were with him.” He said softly back, the hurt on your faces and in your voices so clear.
“Just go, before I do something stupid.” You said, sniffling then, but Suguru leaned even closer, lips a breath away.
“I’m not leaving you.” You tiptoed, dragging him down to you, kissing him deeply then, and it had been like everything clicked into place, like the world all around you all melted. When Suguru’s tongue devoured your mouth, like no kiss you had before, and his hands cupped your face. “Fuck.” He whispered softly.
“Mnh.” You were whining out weakly, Suguru’s hands came to your waist, dragging you against his hard frame, you were heating up like you never have, heart thudding in your chest, when he’s slipping them lower, to your hips. Your back arched, breasts brushing against his chest, earning his moan, as he lifts you then, right on the sink.
Your eyes meet, both of your breaths coming in pants, Suguru Geto is between your fucking thighs, in your school bathroom, and your mind is reeling. “I’ve always wanted you, okay? I have always wanted you.”
His words destroy you.
Are you just dreaming?
“You’re with someone. I can’t do this.” You panicked then, Suguru’s face fell, he had been ready to leave that girl then and there just for one more kiss from you, but you hopped down, touching your lips and shaking your head. “I’m terrible, you’re making me terrible!”
“You’re not terrible, I am. Please, I’ll make it right, don’t leave just give me time and I will-”
“No, I’m awful.” You hated yourself then, so willing to kiss a taken boy, just because he’s Suguru. “You can’t just do that… for me to…”
“Stop, please.” He had begged, gripping your wrist then.
“No. Forget it. Forget it ever happened, I’m sorry I did that.” He doesn’t want your apologies, he wants you, you who disappears that night, before he could stop you, leaving him with one realization.
Kissing you was Earth shattering, kissing you was everything he could ever imagine, and he knew then, he would never get over you.
*****
“I broke up with her, you know.” The hurt in Suguru’s voice is clear as you all come to a stop in front of his home, it’s beautiful and sleek, wide open floor to ceiling windows surrounding it, in a quiet street. You admire it when he opens the door for you, pressing your back against the car as he leans down. “I wanted so badly to finally tell you that night.”
“I ran off on you, you can’t blame yourself for that.” You cup his face now, brushing your lips against his softly. “I was terrified that I did it, that I could do that to another girl, even if it was just a kiss. It felt like the worst thing I could do, but the kiss was the best thing I’d ever felt.”
Your words take Suguru’s breath away. “For me too, it eclipsed anything… though I think kissing you now is even better.” He smiles just a bit, enjoying the blush on your cheeks. “Come inside, Princess.”
“Princess, is that what you call the ladies?” You tease, as he unlocks the doors, and you step in, it’s sleek and modern, but it’s warm and inviting too.
“Only you.” He admits, you feel it then, you’re alone in Suguru Geto’s home now, he’s taking off your jacket, hanging it, warming your chilled fingers with his hands ever so gently.
“Well I’m special then.” You tease, but he’s serious, when he nods, and you lean up, taking out the bun of his hair, letting it fall. You exhale. “You’re like a whole romance cover with it down.”
“A romance cover?” His lidded eyes assess you carefully, now taking out the few hair clips you had holding your hair half up. “You’re beautiful.”
“Sugu…” He’s kissing you again, your hands slipping under his sweater, dying to see him, to see all of him, when he pulls away just an inch. “No, no more stories! I need you to kiss a certain area.”
“I bet you do.” He laughs softly, easing back, enjoying your slumped shoulders and head falling back in frustration.
“Biggest tease of a man ever.”
“We’re almost done now though, want a drink? It’s actually almost midnight.” He muses, peeking at his silver rolex then.
“It is, huh? Alright you better get this last one going then.” Suguru leads you to the kitchen now, he pops a bottle of bubbly, it looks stupidly expensive, and tastes so sweet on your tongue, and as he gazes at you, you ache to tell him. “Sugu… I really should say something.”
“You can soon, I promise.” He plants a kiss on your lips, leading you over to his living room, he slides open the curtains, revealing the pretty night, where people are already lighting fireworks. He sits in a leather seat, patting his lap, you sit on one hard thigh, his arm comes around your waist.
“It's so natural.” You say, brushing your fingers along his hand.
“I know, it feels like you were always supposed to be here.” He sips his drink, setting it down, cupping your face delicately, thumb brushing a drop of champagne that spilled on your lip. “I never want you out of them.”
“Then keep me.” You say softly, he moans, kissing you again, big arm wrapping you so tightly. “Mmm, finish, I’m dying here.”
He chuckles a bit, feeling your heat on his lap, his hands slipping under your dress on the side of your thigh, making your body react. “Alright, the last story.”
*****
The Fifth time Suguru Geto tried to confess his feelings - Age 19- The Summer before Sophomore year college
You were leaving for France, you were leaving for at least two or more years, and you still didn't see Suguru Geto at the airport. With all your friends and family, you kept looking for him. You all had not talked much this year, not after prom, not after that kiss that had you reeling for days, you hadn’t even gone to school that last week, you’d spent it in your room, a mess.
You decided that night to only be friends, no matter what, you’d come back to school for the graduation and given him a hug and a bright smile, and neither of you brought it up again. The lingering tension eased somewhat, and in college you all were so busy you didn’t get together much, and then you got the news that you’d get to study abroad.
A dream of yours, always. All these years you’ve dreamt of going to Paris, of seeing the Eifell tower, of walking along the rolling hills and cobblestone streets, drinking wines and nibbling on croissants and watching the sunrise. The only thing missing from your dream?
Suguru next to you.
“He’ll come, I’m sure sweetie.” Your mom had said softly, you sighed as they sound that you have ten minutes to board over the intercom. “We’ll see you soon, promise to take care?”
“Promise, love you mom, dad.” They left, as did Nanami, then Shoko, Satoru stayed for a moment, madly texting Suguru over and over.
“He’ll come, I swear.” Satoru tried to assure you. You put a hand on his shoulder, shaking your head when the five minutes are announced. “I swear if he doesn’t-”
“Satoru, it's okay. You’re a good friend.” You hugged him tightly, he exhaled, wrapping arms around you, then he chuckled. “What is it?”
“He’s here. God with one minute to spare.” You turned and saw him then, his face so serious, wrapped up in a black coat as he ran up to you. “Alright, bye sweets.”
“Bye Satoru.” You kissed his cheek and he shoved at Suguru, whispering something in his ear, before running off and waving, leaving you two alone, as there are just three more minutes before you board.
The busy airport faded that afternoon, all the people running, hugging, boarding and leaving. It was chaotic, but it’s just Suguru and you, as he’s breathless, his silky dark locks falling just so out of their bun. You felt it then, the emotions, as he opened his mouth to apologize for being late, but you stopped him with a big hug. He wrapped you in strong arms, pulling you against his chest.
“I almost didn’t come.” He admitted, you look up at him with eyes glittering with tears now, broken hearted at the comment.
“What? Why?”
“It’ll hurt too much.” He admitted, his own eyes glittering violet, lidded as tears threatened to spill, tears he cried all morning thinking of you leaving.
“Oh Sugu, I’ll miss you so much.” There was so much more you wanted to say, you ached to say, but you knew you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t spill a bunch of feelings a minute before leaving the country. Feelings you doubted were returned.
“I’ll miss the fuck out of you. Barely even seen you this year.” You nodded in agreement, choking up when he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, cupping your face, and you ached to kiss his lips, he ached to kiss your lips. To tell you.
That he’ll always love you.
But he can’t do that, he can’t just ruin your opportunity, this is your dream, and he wants you to live it, despite it killing him, despite him longing to keep you by his side, forever. So he swiped those tears, smiling down at you, as the final minute was announced loudly, he felt his heart shattering, his mouth opening and closing, as it always does, because he was terrified.
Terrified to lose what he never had.
Terrified you wouldn’t feel the same, terrified also that maybe you did, and that he’ll mess up your opportunities, ruin your life.
Terrified of you getting on that plane.
Terrified.
“Suguru, I…” The announcer cut off your admission that day, he never heard it, he never heard that you said you love him.
“What?” He asked, as it quiets, and you feel a relief, having said it, even if he doesn’t know. You leaned up on your tiptoes, kissing his perfect high cheek bone, arm wrapping around him once more.
“I said something silly, Sugu. Just know, I’ll miss you most of all, out of everyone, I will.” He opened his mouth once more, only for you to place a kiss on it, quick, running off before you talked yourself out of it.
He called your name, and you turned as you’re about to board the plane, he feels like he has to tell you. He should, what if he never sees you again? But he waves at you, smiling just so. “I’ll miss you the most.” He responds, shouting across the airport now.
You smiled sadly, sniffling as you turned and left the love of your life, knowing he has no clue how you feel.
“I love you.” He whispered, watching your retreating figure, leaning against one of the pillars then, sobbing into his hand as your plane took off, not knowing when or if he would ever have a chance to tell you.
*****
You’re a mess now as you’re brought back to the present, Suguru pulls you against him tightly, feeling your every emotion rake through him. “I should have told you then.”
“Told me what, Sugu?” Your voice breaks as you ask him, and he smiles through his own tears when he can finally say those words.
“That I’m in love with you.” Your breath catches, entire body overheats, as your heart clenches with his words. “That I’ve been in love with you, since the day I first saw you reading that book outside. That your first kiss with me that day in middle school? I wrote in twenty different ways in my journal. That night Satoru kissed you, I should have told you that I’ve never been more upset.”
“Sugu…” He shushes you gently, shaking his head, standing you both up then, your hands go to his chest as he pulls you against him.
“The night of prom, I should have danced with you, I should have let you know then, that you were the one I wanted to be with me. I should have told you then that I was in love, but that day you left? I should have let you know that I wanted to be selfish, I wanted you to stay, by my side, every day. But I loved you so fucking much, I wanted you to have the best life, even without me.”
“Suguru Geto, my life was not great without you, it was lonely, it was empty.” You speak now, your hand enwrapping in his hair, as he gulps, leaning so close. “I should have told you that I loved you. That I’ve been in love with you since I met you.”
Suguru gasps, and shakes his head, your words a dream, your body against his some insane fantasy. “You… you love me too?”
“God, yes, I always have. There was never anyone but you for me, not in my mind, not in my heart. I said it at the airport, but you didn’t hear, and I thought… I can’t do this, before I leave for years. So I didn’t repeat it, but in my heart? It’s always been you.”
He slams his lips on yours now, kissing you desperate, hungry, backing you until your shoulder blades hit the cold glass, you gasp at it, as he hovers above your lips. “Will you be mine, Princess?”
“I’m already yours, Sugu.” You answer, he groans then, turning you, unzipping your dress slowly, his long slender fingers trailing your spine when he lets it fall to the floor in a pool around your ankles, leaving you bare as the fireworks blast outside, his lips pressing kisses along the nape of your neck.
“You wanted another place kissed?” He whispers, you feel your cunt throb around nothing, nodding, getting so nervous when he turns you, when he sees your beautiful body naked for the first time, feeling his gaze all over you. “Oh fuck you’re so perfect.”
He melts your every fear.
“I want to see you.” You slip his shirt over his head, heating up when you see his broad chest, his perfect chiseled muscles, flat tan nipples pierced with black barbells, your body clenches when he’s got you back against him, his hands gripping your ass, just your panties a barrier now. “You’re so gorgeous, look at you.”
“Look at you.” You grin when he kisses you again, and he grins, you both have never felt this, the bliss, the beauty, words you both kept for so long spilling over and over in quiet whispers, when he picks you up in his arms, so effortlessly. “I need you in my bed.”
You cling to him, your thighs wrapped on narrow hips, and he carries you to his room, beautiful and huge, so clean aside from a set of journals scattered all over his bedside table. He lays you down then, kissing between the valley of your breasts, peeling down your damp sticky panties slowly off your thighs. You’re trembling as he does, hips arching up.
“Suguru…” You’re whining out when he’s between your thighs, broad shoulders nudging them apart, and he sees you intimately, all of you. His fingers part your plump lips, watching arousal drool out of your little hole, he looks up at you with hungry violet eyes, licking his glossy lips.
“Is this where you wanted your kiss, Princess? Your pretty pussy?” He asks huskily, you nod shyly, you’re so cute he thinks, when he laps at your honeyed arousal, making you cry out in pleasure, gushing more wetness out, coating his lips and tongue. “Fuck you taste so good.”
He’s lapping at you more now, his tongue ring hitting your clit, making you jerk, crying out as he starts flicking it over and over, long fingers pressing into the plush of your thighs, keeping them open as he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your hands entangle in his long locks, pulling his hair and earning his moan, you let go then and he looks up.
“Pull it, Princess. Fuck my face.”
“Fuck your… face!? I…” You’re panting, his tongue flicks again, teasing, and you pull his hair then, putting him right there, he devours you then, his fingers bruising in their grip, the sounds of Suguru drinking you lewd and wanton in his quiet room, the fan spinning above doing nothing to cool you down. “Ah, m’close, Sugu! S’good at… you’re s’good I-”
You’re mumbling as he sucks your clit in his mouth, feeling it twitch when his barbell hits it again, and then he hums. He fucking hums on your clit, your juices flowing all over his mouth as you cum so hard you can’t form a thought, clinging to his hair and rolling your hips, unsure how he was even breathing as he’s buried his face, moaning as he drinks you all up.
The slurping sounds are ridiculous, when he leans over you, he kisses you, and you taste your sweetness, gasping out when he slips a finger in your eager hole, feeling the aftershocks pulse around his fingers. “That’s it, Princess, can you cum again f’me?” He whispers, kissing back down your body.
“Y-yes, yes. Ah!” Suguru is curling those long fingers in your gummy walls, so slick they’re slippery, his tongue circling your clit again, and you’re so sensitive you’re close stupidly quick, he smiles against your pussy lips when he watches you, shaking and falling apart for him.
“Good girl, you’re close hmm?” You nod weakly, he begins scissoring his fingers in and out of your squelching wetness, which pours everywhere down his hand, down his wrist, his cock aching as he grinds against the bed. He could cum just from drinking you, tasting you, feeling you cum again, gripping him like a vise. “Can you take three Princess, I need you ready.”
“Three? I… think? I haven’t…” You’re nonsensical, it’s been so long, and you have never felt anything like this in your experiences, Suguru’s so precise, overstimulating you to the point of tears when he slips a third in, leaning over you, hair falling to the side, his face coated in your slick.
“You’re so fucking tight, god. Hear yourself?” You nod weakly, as he stretches you with his fingers, your own jerkily unbuckling him, gasping when his cock leaves his boxers, thick, heavy and so long, you gulp at it, throat dry.
“You’re huge.” He blushes at that, where you thought he may brag or laugh, but he just nods, then moans, eyes fluttering shut when you stroke him, down his veiny length to his reddened tip, drooling precum. “Will this fit?”
“I’m gonna have fun trying.” He teases, his voice a whisper, he pulls back and slides his boxers and pants off then, and you drink in his body for a blissful moment before he’s on you, laying on top of you, you whimper.
“Lemme suck you, Sugu.”
“I won’t make it. Next time.” You stroke him, running your thumb on his tip, making him hiss, you lick his pearly precum. “You’re too hot, stop it.”
“Me hot? You.” He moans, kissing you deeply, lining his cock up then with your entrance, sliding it between your lips, you’re crying out, nails pressing into his back when he starts sinking in you, stretching you so much it burns. You’re so full of him just barely in, just the tip, you’re almost cumming again from it, your eyes flying up to his.
“Are you okay, Princess? Need more work up?” He’s so sweet, so caring you melt, but you pull him more, rolling your hips, watching his violet eyes roll back when you take more of him.
“I want all of you, Sugu. I can take it.” You whisper, he groans, one hand bracing himself up, the other cupping your face when he sinks in further, then in two more thrusts his tip is pressing your cervix, so intense you scream out. He’s kissing down your throat as your thighs shake around his hips.
You’re so full.
Too full.
But it’s so good, you feel him fucking everywhere, you’re dizzy when he begins to move, when he starts pumping inside you, your wetness dripping down his length, down his balls that are smacking your ass as he fucks into you more and more. Suguru can’t stand how good your walls feel tightening around him, how wet you are, the sounds of skin smacking mixing with your cries and his soft moans.
You lose your breath when he bottoms out, stuffing you full of his cock, when he slides a hand down, pressing into your clit, and your eyes lock. He watches you with parted lips, rolling his thumb on it as he rolls his hips just so, bringing you close again, but this time it’s so intense you can’t handle it, you’re whimpering and sniffling, eyes rolling back in your skull.
“Let me fuckin feel you cumming around me, that’s it. You’re taking me so good, love.” Suguru is murmuring in your ear, your nails leave crescent marks in his back, feeling the muscles roll and bunch as he fucks into you, curved tip dragging just so, and your orgasm starts hitting you in waves. “Oh, there it is. Good girl, so good.”
“Suguru f-fuck!” You’re sobbing out the words, he pulls back, your eyes lock, one of his hands entwined with yours over your head, as you try to focus, try to keep your eyes from rolling back. You’re weak, pathetically mumbling under him, cock drunk eyes lidded and heavy as you whisper. “L-love you, Sugu.”
“Love you, Princess. Love your body, your pussy, how your face looks when you cum? How wet you are.” He praises you, every bit of you then, before he shoves your thighs up so high, until your knees are on his shoulders, leaning over and folding you in half under his weight, hands gripping your face when you gasp. “Where do you want all this cum, Princess?”
You’re so flustered now, cunt spasming around him, his pelvis pressing against you, still snug in your drooling hole, so deep you can’t think of where he ends or you begin. “In me, Sugu. In me.”
“Fuck.” He growls that word then, pounding his cock now into your hole, slamming your abused cervix, balls slapping heavy where your cunt is dripping down your ass, down to his blanket. “You’re a mess, Princess.”
“F-fuck… you… I am… but…” He laughs just a bit, you glare, tightening, making him gasp, and glare as you giggle.
“Bratty Princess, hmm?” You bite your lip, then start drooling as he jerks his hips, hitting your spot again, throbbing inside you. “Can you take it hard, love?”
“Y-yes.” He smiles, kissing you so sweet, before he leans up and starts fucking you harder, faster, mean strokes of his fat cock in your sweet little pussy, hands shoving your thighs even higher, you feel him in your tummy when your head falls back, he watched the bulge move in your tummy, the site ending him then.
“F-fuck… Princess… gonna fill you so full.” He leans down, breath against your lips, you whimper and try to open your eyes as he cums so much, filling your cunt, coating you with his white hot ropes. His groans fill the room while he pumps it more and more, until you’re both oversensitive messes.
“You… feel so good in me…” You whine, tears falling when he finally slows, allowing you to get a breath, your thighs falling to the side now. He kisses you over and over, gently, softly, all over your face. You cling to him, struggling to catch your breath as you both come down. Suguru eases out, watching the mess of his cum and yours pour out of your little hole then.
“Oh my god, look at you, took so much cum in you, didn’t you?” He kisses your inner knee, you giggle, skin so sensitive you feel ticklish, he smiles softly, running his fingers across your skin.
“Ah!”
“Do you get like this after?” He muses, watching goosebumps form everywhere he touches, you shake your head then.
“Never, it’s never been like this for me.”
Suguru kisses your lower lip, exhaling sweetly on your lips. “It’s never been like this for me, either. God I can’t believe you’re here.”
Soon he’s got you cleaned up, and you’re wearing one of his sweaters, it’s swallowing you, so comfy and it smells just like him, you keep inhaling the sleeves as he makes you both coffee, you’re sitting on his balcony watching the fireworks. You’re enamored by them, but Suguru is watching you, your pretty face so enthralled by the sky, he can’t take his eyes off you.
You smile at him then, melting his heart, snuggling up to him and resting your chest, feeling his heart thud against your ear. “So where are you staying?” He asks, you lean up, sipping the coffee then sighing.
“My parents for now, ugh I know! But I need to find a place, the market is so crazy right now.”
“Stay here.”
You blink in shock, mouth opening. “Sugu, I’d love to but…”
“Then stay here. Home, where you belong.” He says softly, and you feel those tears again, tonight has been such a whirlwind, but this?
“Home.” You repeat softly, and he gently kisses your salty tears from your cheeks, as you snuggle even closer to him. “I feel like I’m home, Sugu.”
“Then stay with me. For as long as you want. Forever.”
“Yes.” You kiss his lips, and Suguru soon has you back in his bed, as you all get to know each other in every way, the fireworks are still thundering outside, as you get the best new years kisses all over your entire body.
And that was the last time Suguru tried to confess his feelings, but this time it worked, and you felt the same way the entire time.
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A/N- This one was a lot of work so I really hope you all enjoyed, I love this format of storytelling, if anyone wants another similar let me knowww! Hope you enjoyed I got emotional w/this one, have an AMAZING new year!
Taglist: @higuchislut @cocoamide @imodii @makingtimemine @smolcooki33 @fushitoru @levislug @pe4rl-diver @indiewritesxoxo @uhnosav @candy-s72 @moonlitwitchdaisy @soobinsbreadscrumbs @inthedarkshadows000 @iheartkhloe @mawhoreagaa @yunho-leeknow @you-transfix-me @sugusmonkeyy @aldebrana @xixflower @witchbybirth @katsukihair23 @username23345 @ninikrumbs @stardust-mina
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mugglebornmarvelite · 2 days ago
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A Snowstorm, a Grump, and a Game
Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)
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Summary: The snowstorm traps everyone inside the compound, but you're determined to make the best of it. The rest of the team is scattered around, playing games or lounging, but you’re already on a mission: pestering Bucky into joining you for board games.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Fluff, like two swear words, teasing, playful threats
Author’s Note: Thank you to my mom for unintentionally giving me this idea <3
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The compound was a war zone of boredom. The snowstorm raging outside had the Avengers grounded for what felt like forever, and everyone was handling it differently. Tony was shouting at Clint for cheating in Monopoly, and Natasha was kicking Steve's ass at poker. You were up to something different. You’d made it your personal mission to annoy Bucky Barnes until he played a game with you. 
You hummed, skipping into the Common Room, with a miechvious smile on our face. You spotted him on the couch, with a book in hand, looking like every bit of a grump. Your favorite grump. 
His hair was messy, dark strands a little messed up from him running his fingers through it, and his scowl was as deep as ever. Perfect. 
“Mr. Barnes,” you called, plopping onto the couch beside him. “You’re such a buzzkill. It’s not even fun teasing you anymore. I may just give it up entirely.”
“Good,” he said without looking up, his voice as flat as he was pretending to read, his attention now on you. “Now fuck off.”
You gasped, clutching your chest. “You wound me, Bucky. Right in the soul. How am I supposed to enjoy board games without my partner in crime?”
His eyes flicked up from the book, unimpressed. “Sounds like a you problem, baby.”
Determined, you slid closer, reaching for the dice you’d conveniently left on the table next to him, knowing it would bait him hook, line and sinker. “I don’t need your attitude, I just need these-”
Before you could grab them, he moved quicker. 
In one swift motion, he pulled you onto his lap, making you yelp in surprise. His vibranium arm was around your waist, pinning you down like you weighed nothing. 
“Stop being a fucking menace,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly in your ear. “You send my blood pressure up.”
You wiggled, grinning despite yourself. “Oh no, what will I do now? Big, scary Bucky Barnes has me trapped,” you teased, your voice dripping with mock distress. “I’m terrified.”
His chest rumbled with laughter, a rare sound that made you feel like you’d won something. “You should be,” he said, though his grip on you was more protective than punishing. 
His hands were strong, but he held you like you were breakable, and something about that made your cheeks heat. That heat also pooling in your stomach.
“I am not even scared, not even a little bit,” you pointed out, squirming just to annoy him more. “Honestly, this is kind of disappointing. I expected more from you, old man.”
He huffed, setting his book down without loosening his hold on you. “You’re impossible, дорогой.” Sweetheart.
“And you secretly love it,” you shot back, leaning your head against his shoulder with a satisfied smile.
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against your side. You melted like butter on warm toast.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost fond. “Yeah, well, don’t push your luck, doll.”
You sighed contently.
“Will you play a game with me later?” you asked, batting your lashes at him like a total brat. 
“We’ll see, brat,” he said gruffly, looking at the ceiling, avoiding your doe eyes. 
“Please?”  
“Maybe.”  
“Please!”  
“Don’t whine.” He tugged on a strand of your hair.
You were undeterred, already used to how he pretended to be mad at you but always handled you gently. Your smile grew even wider as you started chanting, “Please, please, please—”  
“If you don’t shut up-” he growled, but you cut him off by leaning in and planting a kiss on the tip of his nose.  
The room seemed to freeze. His blue eyes widened slightly, and his gruff demeanor faltered for a split second before he exhaled sharply, huffing like a frustrated old man. He was your old man.
“You’re lucky I don’t throw you in a snowstorm for that,” he muttered, but his hand on your waist betrayed him, his thumb brushing soft reassuring circles against your side.  
You tilted your head, trying to hold back a laugh as you watched his icy exterior crack just a little more. “So you’ll play a game with me? Pretty please?”  
He sighed like it physically hurt him to give in, but he always did. 
“Fine.” Bucky said so softly you almost didn’t hear him.
You grinned liked the cat the ate the canary. 
“One game. If it’ll get you to shut the hell up.” His large hand was warm on your back.
“Two games.” You pushed, with a hopeful smile and poppy dog eyes.
“Don’t push it, sweet girl,” he warned, though his tone lacked any real bite.  
You grinned triumphantly, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you made yourself comfortable. “We both know you’ll cave,” you teased, your voice full of smug satisfaction. “You always do.” 
“Yeah?” he asked, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. His tone was low, threatening in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Are you so sure, дорогой?”
“Keep it up, and the only game we’re playing is who can survive the longest in the damn snowstorm. Spoiler alert, it’s not gonna be you.”  
You laughed, the sound soft and bright, and you felt his chest rumble faintly with a chuckle of his own.  
“Whatever you say, Bucky. Just don’t forget, I always win.”  
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he replied, “The only thing you’re winning is a one-way ticket to getting thrown off this couch, your cute little ass hitting the ground.”  
And yet, neither of you made any move to separate, content to sit there tangled up in each other as the snowstorm raged on outside.
You soon fell asleep on his lap and Bucky made no move to wake you.
In fact, when Peter came to poke you, Bucky hissed at him, and Peter scampered off.
Bucky pulled a blanket over you, holding you snuggly against him, cradling the back of your head with one hand and rubbing circles on your lower back with the other.
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Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Happy Holidays!
Much love x
- Maeve
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mxnhoo · 2 days ago
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taste (y. jw)
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✎ yang jungwon x reader synopsis you and Jungwon were drinking together, until you impulsively recommended to play spicy drinking games. he eventually agreed with your idea, and from there on you could discover something that he's been hiding from you and you decide to make it come true. genre drinking together, reader has supposedly bad drinking tolerance but actually lasted the entire way, drinking game, jungwon respects boundaries (as he should) but reader likes to push it, jungwon is shy when getting onto the spicy topics unlike reader who's bold, Hershey's chocolate syrup, teasing, not proofread warnings spicy drinking game/spicy question(s), VERY ALMOST smut (read at your own caution), very suggestive, food related (smudging on areas on the body to clean up), vivid description of licking, hickies word count 1.4k cly's note honestly writing suggestive/almost smut fics are lowkey out of my comfort zone but i wanted to give yall another one after seeing how much support dangerous got. if i wasn't so awkward with this topic, jungwon would've been more bold and confident LOL. don't think i wrote this as well as dangerous but hope yall enjoy this too!
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As you finished taking a shot, you immediately gulped down the liquid in an attempt to reduce the effects that the alcohol has on you. You sighed as you felt the burning sensation in your throat, your face tensing up as you slowly felt the sensation disappear. Jungwon chuckled as he held up the alcohol bottle and poured you another shot. As the sensation in your throat fully died off, you quickly cleared your throat, "I'm done".
He gave you an approving hum and smile as he patted your back, knowing that you weren't such a good drinker unlike him. You sat back on your chair, letting your head hang over the edge as you stared into the ceiling. The room was dimly lit up by a warm light, the walls and ceiling looking more of a dark orange.
You could almost tell that feeling in your stomach was coming — y'know, that feeling when you drink a lot of alcohol. Your head was starting to feel light and as your heart starts to race, you suddenly feel like you want to do a lot of things.
"Hey!" you called out, and Jungwon's eyebrows raised, anticipating to what you were going to say next. "Drinking game, let's play," you suggested.
And that was exactly how you got even more wasted. You were panting as you felt your head spin, almost feeling like you were going to pass out. Jungwon laughed as he watched you in your drunken state, folding his arms and relaxing back on his chair, "Are you sure you can continue? I can bring you to bed now if you want".
"No!" you slammed your shot glass down onto the table, determined to prove that you could drink more, even if your boyfriend already knew damn well that you were already pass your limit. "I.. can do thiss," you mumbled, your speech already starting to slur from the alcohol.
"Y'know what?!" you exclaimed, standing up from your chair and slightly startling Jungwon and you looked at him with determined eyes, "Spicy. Let's play spicy".
Jungwon's eyes were slightly widened as he realised what you were asking for. You wanted to play spicy drinking games, and his mind has run wild, the number of things he wants to do being unlimited. His face slightly burns up at the idea and he shook his head.
"I'd love to, but-" "Wonnie!" "You're drunk, Y/N."
You pouted. "So what?!" He ran his fingers throug his hair, feeling slightly agitated. "I don't want to take advantage of that!"
You looked at him with half-lidded eyes, "I don't care. Do it".
He bit his lip, and if you were sober enough, you can physically see him lose control from the way his brows furrow and how he exhaled audibly. He was losing it. He wanted to respect boundaries, and you were tempting him.
He spoke, his voice deep. "Who was your best kiss? Me or yor ex?". You chuckled, your eyelids barely opened as you pointed at him without hesitation. "You, duh". You've slightly sobered up already since all you've been doing is answering his questions honestly, avoiding any shots.
He nodded his head in approval, trying his best to compose yourself until you continued talking. "I fucking love the way your lips ruin me whenever—".
Jungwon, with his reddened ears, covered your mouth which silenced you. You giggled as his mouth prevented you from talking, and you could hear him sigh. Though he agreed to play your spicy "Truth or Drink" game, he still wanted to respect the boundaries, but you were forcing him to push it, his self-control slowly slipping away.
He sighed as he slowly released your mouth, watching you as he slowly leaned back. "It's your turn," he furrowed his eyebrows upwards, feeling slightly shy as to what you might ask him. You've always found him adorable that he was always shy at these topics even when you and him have already done a lot.
You decided to shoot a question, "Do you have any fantasies I don't know about?".
He seemed to ponder for a second, his eyes looking empty and him pursing his lips, and just as soon as he picked up his shot glass and was about to gulp it down, you grabbed his wrist to prevent it from moving.
Your eyes were dark and determined. "What is it?" your tone sounding open, yet demanding. The tension in the air suddenly grew, the silence becoming more unbearable as you two stared into each other's eyes. He grew more nervous, gulping and pursing his lips as you could see him decide if he should tell you or not.
"It's okay, baby," you comforted him, encouraging him to be more open.
"Food" he quicky muttered. "What?" "I said food."
You looked at his face and you could tell his face was completely red, and you knew it wasn't from the alcohol. He bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows, feeling sheepish that he finally admitted something he'd been hiding.
"What about it?" "The thought of you smearing food on your naked body for me to clean up with my mouth is just.."
His whole face was a bright shade of red and he broke eye contact, afraid to see what kind of facial expression you're making to his confession. You lifted his chin up with your finger, "Let's do it".
There were two differences that were made. One being that you were now shifted into your room from the living room since Jungwon offered to carry you with his trustworthy strength and arms, and second being that you were completely bare. You hugged your legs as the cold air hit your body, waiting for Jungwon to return until you heard the door slowly creak open.
Jungwon appeared, holding the Hershey's syrup bottle you stored in your refrigerator, and at the the bare sight of you, his breath hitched. He gulped as he walked towards you, being conscious of the way you were w him wtching with pedatory gaze.
He gulped as he climbed onto the bed, his knees pressing onto the sheets, staring at you, having a flustered expression take over his facial features. No, this wasn't his first rodeo with you, but it was his first with his most hidden fantasy.
He slowly handed you over the syrup bottle, your fingers brushing his for a moment and without a moment of hesitation, you immediately started to squeeze out the syrup onto different parts of your body — your knees, outer thighs, stomach, collarbone, neck.
His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you being fully covered in syrup. His heart skipped a beat as he took a few seconds to scan your entire body up and down. He licked his lips and he slowly started to climb over you, eyeing the first spot that he wanted to clean up first — your knees.
His tip of his tongue flicked against your knee, the temperature difference between his tongue and your skin making you shiver. His muscle immediately started to clean you up, using various movements such as long strikes or short kitten licks. He quickly cleaned up the syrup on your knee and he started to progress to the other areas such as your outer thigh.
He sucked the skin along the way, leaving light hickies that were bright red. He slowly pushed you down on the bed as he hovered over you, a shadow forming over you, next cleaning up your stomach. You watched how his eyes fluttered close and how he took his own time to clean you up.
"Teasing me aren't you?" he mumbled as he was in the midst of cleaning up your stomach, taking a quick second to look at you. You smirked, knowing exactly what he'd meant. You'd purposefully avoided all the core parts as you wanted to leave it last.
"Be patient, will you?" you shot, enjoying how he whines and just continues.
He'd just finished cleaning up your collarbone and neck, and without taking a break, you immediately started to pour the syrup out to areas where he'd been anticipating to the most. His jaw had dropped at the breath-taking sight of you, almost believing that he was dreaming.
"How about, we start here?" you challenged as you poured the syrup on your lips, his eyes watching the syrup as it lands on your mouth and drips down your chin.
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extra note GRHAUDEWFN I FEEL SO SHY THAT I WROTE THIS. OH MY GOD. okay. i hope you guys enjoyed this. I HOPE THIS WASNT TOO CRINGE THIS IS LOWK MY FIRST SMUT FIC. im gunna sleep this away GOODNIGHT.
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jeonginslefthand · 3 days ago
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More please ♡🩸
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Pairing: Vampire!BangChan x Reader Genre: Suggestive (18+. minors/ageless blogs do not interact <3)/Thriller Word count: 2.0k+ Summary: You caught Chan in the middle of his midnight activities, marking the start of an unexpected relationship.  Warnings: Kidnapping mentioned, force feeding, grinding, biting, blood (lots of it), small mentions of depression A/N: Railway MV has made me feral and I had an idea. Also hope writing this will cure my writer's block for the San series cause I'm struggling rn. This is more of a drabble and [mostly] proofread. Hope y'all enjoy 🫶 Stray kids masterlist
~~~
“I need more~”
It hurts when Chan bites into your neck. You expected some pain, but not a pain like this. It stings and there’s an ache you can’t begin to describe. But it feels somewhat arousing. Chan on top breathing heavily as he is sucking the life out of you makes you feel something in your core. You forget for a moment that his teeth are sunk in your veins as the agonizing pain turns into pleasure. 
It’s hard to say how you got here in the first place. You and Chan had been acquainted since he moved to your neighborhood a few years ago. Nothing he did ever tipped you off that he could be hiding this secret. And Chan had been careful to keep this secret too. Surviving off animal blood, only feasting on human flesh when he needs to. He was sure he would never get caught. Until last night when you decided to take the shortcut path on your nightly walk and stumbled upon the area where Chan does his bidding. You were frozen in fear unsure what to do as Chan looked at you. So he did what any vampire in hiding would. He took you back to his hideout away from the world until he could figure out his next move. 
And here you are, under him as he’s making up for his interrupted midnight snack. By now he feels he sufficiently made up for the interruption and slowly removes his teeth from your neck. You feel that stinging pain again and feel a bit faintish. You see out the corner of your eye blood dripping from the two fresh holes. Gross yet arousing at the same time. Chan notices and licks up the excess blood as if he wants to savor your taste. You feel another jolt of pain, but Chan massaging the area with his tongue helps to ease the pain and turns it into more pleasure. 
“Your blood tastes so sweet~” Chan growls as he licks the remaining blood and pulls away from you. “I swear I could drink this forever.” 
It sure felt like he was going on forever. You even forgot that he did kidnap you and that the bodies of his previous victims surrounded you. Coming back to reality the fear returns to you wondering if that is your fate. 
“C-Chan… I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. A-and you can have all the blood you want just please let me go.” You mutter out on the verge of tears. 
“Oh I will have all the blood I want, 'cause you’re not leaving here,” Chan responds smiling, baring his sharp teeth now covered in blood. You flinch for a moment thinking he’s going back in for seconds. Chan notices and chuckles in response. 
“Don’t worry dear, I won’t hurt you more than I need to. It would be a shame if you died on me.”
~~~
Despite the situation, Chan is pretty gentle with you. Aside from the blood-sucking sessions, he makes sure you’re well taken care of. You find out that the place you’ve been taken to was a castle, somewhere far off in the mountains. You slowly fall in love with the gothic architecture exploring a new room each day. You even have your room, decorated head to toe in the dark gothic aesthetic with a soft queen-sized bed made just for you. 
Chan cooks for you every night. At first, you refused to eat the meals, still in fear of what he could do and barely working up an appetite. After a few days of the act, Chan got annoyed and one day took matters into his own hands. 
“Come on sweetie, if you don’t eat your blood won’t pump properly and you’ll be weak.” Chan calmly says as he forces a piece of chicken into your mouth. You try your hardest to resist but his vampire strength overpowers you. Tears well up in your eyes and fall on your plate. You want to spit the chicken out but you can’t bring yourself to it as Chan stares at you intensely, wiping the tears away from your cheek. 
“Aww don’t cry. It’s okay, you’re okay. The chicken tastes good right?” Chan coos and you nod in response. 
“Good. Then swallow~” Chan commands.
You hesitate for a moment but reluctantly swallow. The chicken wasn’t bad, but you still feel a lump in your throat. You want your body to reject the food so badly but you also hadn’t eaten for days and knew that eventually you would have to give in. 
Chan feeds you the rest of the chicken and side dishes. This was the only way you were going to eat for that night, still in fear that he could do much worse. After that day you stopped refusing to eat knowing that Chan wouldn’t hesitate to force-feed you again. You two started having somewhat normal dinners. Chan would talk about his day and sometimes the drama going on at his day job and you would talk about the room you explored that day and your thoughts. Sometimes he would talk about his past life, his experiences, and what it was like being the way he is. These deeper talks made you more intrigued about him. He was slowly peeling back layers revealing his true nature, showing there was some humanity left in those eyes. 
~~~ 
Of course, Chan would still get a taste of your blood now and then. Biting in the same spot, careful not to take too much that you faint, but enough to keep him satisfied for a few weeks. You got used to the pain and a part of you almost looked forward to these sessions. The pure ecstasy you felt with Chan on top and pressed against you as you were helpless under him, you almost didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more from him. 
One time you decided to make a bold request to Chan at dinner.
“I want you to suck my blood tonight,” you stated clearly. Chan nearly chokes on his food shocked that you’re taking the initiative this time. 
“Y/N, I appreciate the offer and you know I would love that. But I’m fine it’s only been a week.” Chan responds.  
“But I want you to! I need that feeling of you sinking your teeth into me. It’s addicting and I want more of it!” 
Chan gets up and walks over to your seat and leans towards you. 
“I have a better idea sweetie~,” Chan says. 
“And what is that?” you respond, desperate for him to do something. Anything.
Chan leans in closer and presses his lips into yours. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate kissing him back. The same feeling of desire is felt between both of you, but more intense than when Chan is stealing your blood. Eventually, you stand up and push him on the table (well, more like he lets you) kissing him deeper and with a passion you’ve never felt. The air feels warm around you, savoring Chan’s taste while your mind’s on cloud 9. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about this. Wondering what his lips would feel like in other areas of your body besides the sensitive vein of your neck. 
The burning desire in your core doesn’t settle down and you instinctively grind on Chan’s thigh to get some kind of relief. Chan doesn’t notice drunk on his desire for you, but eventually, he pulls away and places his hands on your hips. 
“Feeling a bit needy today I see~” Chan teases. 
“Oh you have no idea,” you say shakily, catching your breath.
Chan starts to respond with a witty joke but you sink back into his lips before he responds. You kiss him harder than the first time and the desire builds up in your core harder. The room feels it’s on fire as you and Chan feel each other’s hot breaths and as you continue to grind his thigh. Chan gets so lost in your soft moans that he doesn’t notice his fangs grazing your bottom lip. He presses on your lips harder and his fangs accidentally sink into your lip as you yelp in pain. Shocked by your scream, Chan quickly pulls away from you, but also accidentally knocks over a plate in the process remember that the two of you were making out on the dinner table. 
“Oh my god Y/N I’m so sorry!” Chan says concerned, caressing your lip. The blood quickly drips down from your mouth covering the lower half of your face. 
“Chan I’m fine! It didn’t hurt but it was shocking. Maybe… warn me next time,” you respond with a witty tone. 
“Funny. But still, don’t want you to lose too much blood.” Chan leans towards your lips again and starts licking up the blood starting from your chin and ending with your bottom lip. He passionately licks every last drop like it’s the last he’ll ever get your blood. 
“Say… why don’t we continue this somewhere else,” Chan suggests as he pulls away from you. You look at him hazy with lust and out of the corner of your eye notice a certain desire growing in his pants.
“I think that’s a great idea love~”     
~~~
After that erotic night, it felt like time slowed down living with Chan. You’ve lost count of how long you’ve been here. Maybe a couple of months? A little under a year? In your mind, you knew you had to go back to your old life, back to your friends and family. They have probably been looking for you. But in your heart, you didn’t care. Nothing in your life mattered anymore except Chan and his twisted love for you. You would give anything to be with him, to stay with him forever. 
One night as the two of you cuddled in bed, you suddenly brought up another proposition. 
“Channie, do you think you can… turn me into a vampire?” you ask suddenly. 
“W-what?!” Chan says, taken aback. 
“I-It’s just an idea. I’ve seen it done a lot in vampire shows. But knowing what I know about you now I don’t know how accurate that is. And I realize that you’re the only one I want to be with for a long time and it would suck dying knowing you would still live on forever…” 
Chan is silent processing your request. You give him some time and then follow up with your statement.
“It’s okay if you can’t and I’m probably overthinking this. That’s so far ahead of us and I’m happy spending whatever time we have. I just love you so much and—”
“No no, I can turn you. It’s possible but… are you sure you want this?” Chan says cutting you off. “It’s a dangerous path to take. The constant bloodlust is not easy to control. And there are many days that there will be a numbing feeling you can’t get rid of. Constantly feeling empty and at some point feeling like life isn’t worth it is not something I want for you.”
“I don’t care if I spend the rest of my days hating the world. As long as I’m with you I won’t feel empty. Doesn’t matter if that’s 10 years or the next 1000 years, life with you will always have meaning!” 
Another moment of silence passes and Chan pulls you into his chest. He starts stroking your hair as he responds.
“There’s no talking you out of this is there?” Chan sighs. 
You giggle into his chest. “I’d do anything to be with you for as long as I can!~” 
Chan kisses your forehead. “Then, enjoy your last night being human love~”
You fall asleep into Chan’s arm as he drifts off to sleep. Who knew what the next years would look like for the two of you? You dream of all the potential adventures you two would go on, the lives you would live. It would be chaotic and messy, but that didn’t matter to you. In the end, you can call the man you once feared yours and you were his. And you couldn’t want anything more.
~~~
If you liked this leave a like, reblog, and/or comment! I appreciate it and thanks for reading!
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shurisneakers · 2 days ago
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unsolved (vii)
Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)
Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the paranormal.
A/N: hello. i am late again. i almost gave up but we are here. for better or for worse. i will most likely go back ad edit the second half again ok love u guys mwahmwah
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Previous part || Series masterlist
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Only after hours, nay, a full day of hunching over his desk, eyes red-rimmed and burning, four crushed cans of energy drinks next to him lending to him the nervous energy of a chihuahua, Bucky realises that there’s no beating it.
He absentmindedly takes another sip of the RedBull, flinching when the taste registers. Either he’d reached his threshold or the medicine flavour had begun morphing into something else entirely. The caffeine didn’t even work on him, so really, he was just placebo-ing himself into having energy. 
Every site he’s visited has had a vastly different interpretation; ones that don't match what he thinks has been happening, or the context past his past provides. Others are simply blatantly wrong based on the additional research he, in his infinite wisdom and totally accurate self-assessment tendencies, has been gathering in the last 3 days. 
The Star. Six of Cups. The Hanged Man.
Bucky knows he could ask someone in real life about this, someone who possibly had more experience than a simple website whose code broke every time he tried to scroll to the bottom. However, that would mean that he had to tell them his dead sister was probably haunting him out of her spite and hatred for the very fibres of his being.
Also, Bucky may be haunted by his dead relatives, but he’s not haunted enough to actually leave his room over it. 
Video consultations were also an option, but he’s convinced that if word got out that Bucky Barnes was half-convinced ghosts were following him around, it would make headlines for a mighty long week. 
Therefore, he resorts to shady, online websites that demand he pay up before giving him the results of the readings they’ve done for him. 
The “lady” that he paid to talk to using Steve’s credit card on mistytarot.com types for a very long time before a message comes through.
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The thought bubble disappears for another half an hour, and Bucky thinks hat either she is a complete scam, or it’s run by someone who is about as technologically proficient as Steve was. 
But a message does in fact come through, and it’s enough to have him be covninced that the 20 bucks he blew on Steve’s card was worth it. 
Lady Lilia 
Considering that you think you’re being haunted, The Star could represent the absence of hope. Do you feel like you’re being trapped in darkness? As if you are being abandoned by the universe and with no room for healing?
B. Barneswell i forgot about it until now
Lady Lilia If your sister passed away a long time ago, the reason The Six of Cups may have presented itself is because you may be feeling like you're ensnared in the past, constantly reliving moments that hurt or confuse you, rather than finding peace. 
A frown grows on his face. 
Lady Lilia If you’re haunted by a person who used to be in your life and it is reminding you of past mistakes, The Hanged Man could be because feel like you're stuck in a cycle of stagnation, unable to move forward, as if these spirits are keeping you suspended in a state of emotional paralysis. 
However, if the cards were upright–
Bucky slams the laptop shut, inhaling and exhaling sharply through his nose.
From the corner of his eye, his phone lights up with the fifth missed call in the last ten minutes, but considering that he keeps that thing on silent, he never even noticed.
Shoving aside whatever he may be thinking for the moment, he checks the caller ID, only for feelings of confusion and despair to be immediately replaced with annoyance, or disgust even. 
He calls back anyway, preparing for the worst. 
“Did you drink all my RedBull?” Clint booms the second he picks up.
“No,” Bucky lies smoothly.
“Fucker, I know it was you. Pay me back. With interest.”
“No.”
Clint switches to whining. “You know I need that shit to stay awake at night. Some of us don’t have superhero cocaine in our system.”
“I don’t care, go to sleep at a normal hour.”
“Say, did you drink every last one?” Clint instantly switches to a curious tone for a second. “Because one of them’s not like the others.”
Bucky looks at the cans that littered his bedroom floor. “Why?”
“I can’t tell you what it is over the phone.”  
“Why?” 
“Let’s just say it’s not exactly allowed in the country, but–”
Bucky cuts the call and tosses it onto the bed. 
He runs a hand through his hair, softly exhaling while contemplating whether or not to continue the chat. Steve wouldn’t miss another 20 dollars, he had the wealth of a small prince with all that army back pay bullshit. In fact, Steve should ideally be funding more of Bucky’s endeavours. 
There comes a knock at his door.
Bucky immediately leaps off the bed, sprinting to the door, because he fuckin knows that knock, goddamn it–
He throws open the door before you get the chance to full body slam against it.
“Oh.” You blink, relaxing away from your stance. “Hey. How’d you know–”
“You do this every week,” he breaks in. “You do this multiple times a day.” 
“Don’t you dare say I’m predictable,” you warn, raising a finger. “I’ll start crying right here, then you’ll have to deal with that. You wanna see snot running down my–”
Bucky slams the door shut again, waiting to turn around. 
“Can you take me to the doctor?” Your voice is muffled through the solid wood.
It’s enough to make him hesitate, hand on the doorknob.
“What’s wrong with you?” he inquires.. 
“Nothing, I’m perfect,” you reply instinctively, before course correcting, “Wait, no, I’m sick.”  
He lets his head drop against the door. “Go to the fucking infirmary.”
“The infirmary told me to go to the hospital. Can you just take me?” you bug. “They won’t discharge me unless I have someone with me to drive me back.”
“You have a head injury?” Bucky asks, before following it with, “Actually, that tracks.”
“Rude.” 
“Ask Nat.”
“Nat’s in Lagos.”
“Ask Sam.” 
“Yoga.”
“Clint.”
“Really.”
“Glad to know I’m your first choice,” he mumbles, opening up the door. 
You send him a blistering smile. “You’re my favourite choice.” 
______
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“You gotta take this turn,” you instruct, too close to the actual crossing. 
“The nearest hospital’s five minutes away, what the hell are you talking about?“ he points out, eyes on the road. 
“We’re going to the one on King’s Road,” you read off of Google maps. “Take that lef-– well, you missed that. Now you gotta make a u-turn.”
“What’s the problem with Chastain Park?” he demands. “King’s Road is half an hour away.”
“This one’s got all my files,” you insist. “Otherwise I gotta start over and it's so much effort.”
“Aren’t you in a database?”
“Yeah, but not a medical one.”
Bucky lets out something akin to a growl and a groan. “What's the time?”
“Like eight thirty?”
“What’s the time,” he emphasises, because he most definitely had another email due from another lady on the internet who he had sent his cards to a few hours ago. 
“Fine, it’s eight twenty two,” you shoot back.  “Did that make a big difference?”
“Yeah, it did actually,” he fires indignantly, “My life is radically different. You have no way of knowing.”
“Liar. You’re a lying liar, who lies.” You scoff. “And details are for losers.”
“Losers can drive all the way back to drop you off at the infirmary and let them deal with you.”
You relent, flashing him a grin. “This won’t take long.”
“You say this every fuckin’ time,” he groans, before complying and taking a u-turn anyway.
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“You’re fucking joking,” he states. 
“No, it’s actually called lying,” you correct casually.  
“Is this an abandoned hospital? What the fuck?” Bucky asks, staring up at the huge decaying building.  
The outside looks run-down, with cracked, weathered brick walls and broken windows. The entrance is blocked off with rusted gates, some sections of which have fallen over. As the car rolls up, the air is thick with a musty, damp smell, mixed with a faint odor of decay.
“Yes,” you say simply, opening the trunk of the car and pulling out all the supplies you had from last time. “Video time. Let’s go.”
“You didn’t have to lie,” Bucky mumbles. “I’d have showed up.”
You give him a deadpan look. “You famously never do.”
That’s fair, but also, that was the old Bucky. The new Bucky circa this week is a bit more… invested. He feels the need to gather some more information, and unfortunately, the only opportunity to do that is here.
So for the time being, he decides he will hang on. For purely selfish reasons. 
“Just tell me next time,” he grunts. 
You observe him for a second like you're about to call him out on something, but instead you simply say, “Okay.”
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Bucky grabs his usual stuff– the spirit box, a lapel mic, while you levitate the camera. 
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“Hello?”
You both look beyond the camera at the same time to someone stalking up to you.
“Who’s there?” demands a middle aged woman with straw blonde hair, wrinkles decorating sunburnt skin, and a navy blue jacket. 
“Uh–”
“Who are you?” she asks, cautiously stopping a few feet away.  
“We’re here on a video shoot,” you inform. “Just wanted to check the place out.”
“Oh, you’re one of them camera folk,” she says, ponting her flashlight at you. “Those ghost hutner types.”
“That’s us,” you agree, flinching from the bright light. “We're from The Graveyard Shift.”
“Who are you?” Bucky cuts in, because why should only the both of you explain. 
“I’ve been working security here for the last thirty years.” She shines her flashlight at the musty place. “Name’s Brenda.”
“Why does an abandoned hospital need a security guard?” Bucky inquires. 
“Management just underwent a shift. White collars are setting up a mall here, so they bought up the whole place, fired everyone and now they’re gonna build an all year ski world or something in there.” There’s a tick in her jaw as she draws it out. “Whole damn place is cursed. They better hope it only burns down.”
“Okay,” you drag out, giving Bucky a sideways glance. “Anyway, we’re gonna go check out the place. See if we can find some ghosts.”
“Oh, you’ll see ‘em, alright. Everyone who was collateral damage in the buyout is still in there.” Her voice is distant, arm coming to rest on her hip.  “You’ll have to hit up specific rooms. Y’all got a floorplan?”
“No, figured we’d just wing it.” You pause. “Hospital wing it.”
“Shut up,” Bucky replies on instinct. 
“You’re gonna be spending a lot of time in there if y’all dont know where youre’ heading. It’s a maze,” she continues, ignoring your brilliant joke. “I can show you the rooms, but I can’t guarantee that it has ghosts in there.”  
“Uhhh—” you begin. 
“It’ll cut down your time in half.”
“Deal,” Bucky says immediately, sticking out his hand for a shake.
Brenda sticks out her hand too, only to wince immediately, following it up with a curse.
“What’s wrong?” you interject.
“Damn back’s killing me,” she mutters. “You’d think death would stop the pain, but it’s not let up yet. Come on then.”
Both of your eyebrows knit together at her statement, but she leaves no room for a reply as she marches inward, one hand on the small of her spine. 
Bucky elects to use his phone flashlight, as if he keeps that shit charged above 40% at any given point of time. If anything is not going to make it out of the night alive, it was that thing. 
The air inside is stale and heavy, filled with the scent of mildew and old, rusted metal. All three of your footsteps echo in the silence, reverberating through empty halls with each cautious step. The moonlight  in conjunction with the flashlight casts long, unsettling shadows. The faint taste of dust lingers in the back of Bucky’s throat that he cannot get rid of. 
“Y’all gonna sleep in here tonight?” Brenda pipes up, swinging her flashlight around.
You look at Bucky with a grin that’s alarming.
His face immediately pulls into one of “What the fuck”
“No, we aren’t,” you announce instead. “But do people do that often?”
“You’d be surprised,” she comments. “You’re not the first folks we’ve had here with those fancy shmancy gadgets.”
“That explains how you have a tour all planned.” 
“We get a bunch of you every couple of months.”
“Who is ‘we’?” Bucky cuts in.
She pays him no need. “Y’all run a podcast?”
Bucky looks personally affronted. “No, we do not.”
“We run a YouTube channel,” you offer instead. “It’s for ghosts and stuff.”
“I see,” she considers, tone thoughtful. “So, this will go up online?” 
“Unfortunately,” Bucky murmurs.
“Have you caught ghosts before?”
“Not even one–”
“Several,” you chirp. “And we have a witch cat. Her name’s Alpine.”
Bucky narrows his eyes at you. “Since when is her name Alpine?”
“I gave her a bunch of options and she told me she liked that best.”
“The cat can’t talk.”
“To you. She and I chat shit everyday,” you dish back. “She hates that stupid fern in your room, she says it smells.”
That fucking fern was not even his idea. But Sam got it for him when he moved in, so there was a zero percent chance it would be leaving any time soon. 
“Tell her to fuck off.”
“Y’all got a large following?” Brenda interrupts.
“Building towards it.” You look at her before looking at Bucky. “Once we hit a sizable amount and Bucky becomes an official internet boyfriend, we’ll stop the series.”
He sends you a withering look. “We’ll be doing this till I die.”
“Nonsense, everyone loves you,” you dismiss. “You’re a pretty boy and extremely irritable. They think you’re hilarious.”
 His nose twitches, and he feels the need to clear his throat. 
“Your camera records ghosts?” Brenda asks again. 
“We’ve got a bunch of devices. We’ll catch it,” you sound confident. 
“Great, because here’s the first stop,” she says, pressing her shoulder onto a double door.
The door groans as she pushes, its hinges protesting with a long, rusty screech, the cold metal heavy under her hand. A stale gust of air hits your face, carrying the faint smell of rot as the door finally gives way.
She steps back with a small huff, stretching her back with a small, “Shit.”
The pale blue walls had turned greenish, wallpaper peeling away. Counters were covered with a thin layer of dust. Old tools laid unused on the surgical table, once stainless steel but now rusted. 
“A lotta deaths happened in this operating theatre,” she imparts after a bout of stretching. “They thought this place was cursed for a while.” 
The sterile, tiled walls are cracked and chipped, and the old surgical lights hang dim, their bulbs long burned out. The air still lingers with antiseptic that’s long since turned sour.
Bucky feels a little too acquainted with this setting. 
He doesn’t even realise his silence is palpable until you nudge his side, drawing his attention sharply back to you. 
“You doin’ okay?” you whisper.  
“Fine,” he says, tearing his eyes away from the tools and towards you.
It only twists his stomach a little. It makes him think of how different his reactions used to be even a few years go. 
“Old, dingy hospitals may not have been the best idea,” you admit to him, using the flashlight to shine a light in the corner. 
It occurs to him a second later once he forces himself to compartmentalise. 
“You okay?” he asks, voice low. 
“Yeah,” you reply, slowly looking around. “Just looks like my nursery.”
A small crease forms between his eyebrows. 
“Not gonna lie, mine was way prettier. Lot more mould on the walls,” you continue, tone light. “You know, timeless decor.”
His nose lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh. “Leviathan not into blood stain wallpaper?”
“Couldn’t afford it. Fuckin’ place kept referring to itself as Hydra’s sister org but had none of the budget,” you say, swiping a finger across the dust. “You’d think that at least some of the people that left would give alumni donations, but no.”
Bucky snickers at jokes literally no one else would laugh at. It feels good for once, not to feel the need to censor himself to make others less uncomfortable. 
You take a step forward, camera following behind you. 
You shine the flashlight around the room, noting all the surgical trays piled together. 
But something flashes on the ceiling. 
You swing your flashlight toward it immediately, only for the table beside you a few inches away to start rolling, making a loud whining noise as it did, snapping your attention towards it.  
By the time you finally bring the light back up towards the ceiling, it’s gone. 
“What the–” you mumble. 
“What?” Bucky asks, looking up from where he was scrolling through his phone. 
“Could’a sworn I saw–” you frown at the empty space now, only an old defunct looking camera staring back at you. 
“Red eyes?” Brenda inquires, looking at you. “Yeah, that happens.”
Bucky glances up at you, and then the wall. “Probably just the lens glare.”
You scrunch up your face at her. “How’d you know it was red eyes?” 
“That’d be the spirit of ol’ Doctor Damon, chief of neuro,” she says. “You’ll find him here or his cabin, but that’s a few floors away. He never liked climbing the stairs.” 
“Right,” Bucky acknowledges monotonously. 
“When he worked here, he spent so long in surgery that his eyes were always bloodshot. One day he just dropped dead from exhaustion,” Brenda explains. “So his spirit walks around here, red eyes, wheeling surgery tables waiting for the next patient.”
“What’s he doing on the ceiling?” Bucky questions, going back to his phone. “He did his surgeries suspended midair?” 
“Are you trying to gatekeep the ceiling?” you scoff. “Have you never seen Spiderman hanging upside down for fun?” 
Bucky finally lifts his sight from the phone. “The doctor is not an insect superhero, he would have no reason to be hanging upside down–”
“How would you know if he’s a superhero or not? What if he was bitten by a bat?” you challenge. “Like a bat…guy. Batman.”
He jeers. “Then he’s got a stupid codename.”
“Oh, and Captain America is poetic genius.”
“At least Sam has a codename, where’s yours?” 
You narrow your eyes at him. “Maybe you should have paid attention when your mother was screaming it las-”
“Shall we move on?” Brenda asks calmly. 
“Yes,” the both of you reply simultaneously. 
She doesn’t even bother looking at you, almost as if she’d seen it all in her lifetime. 
“Besides, sometimes you can see him sitting on one of the operating tables. He doesn’t just hang out on the ceiling like… bat…man,” she explains, leading the way back out. 
“See?” 
“See what?” you ask. 
“Nothing,” he replies. “There’s nothing to see. That’s the fuckin’ point.”
You shove him lightly. 
Bucky bites back a grin.
_____
The morgue is silent. 
The ceiling is low and chipped, streaked with stains of old water damage, the paint fallen away in patches. 
Against one wall, old, disused morgue drawers stand open and half-broken, the once-sleek stainless steel now speckled with rust. Some of the drawers are bent out of shape, while others are stuck, sealed tight from years of neglect. Inside some of the open drawers, tattered, yellowed tags hang loosely from the handles, swaying gently as the chill air moves through the room.
“This room’s self explanatory,” she says. “Sometimes, you can hear spirits still trying to claw their way out of the drawers but they never open.”
“Skill issue,” Bucky mumbles under his breath.
“Shut up, oh my God,” you whisper-yell, still mouth pulling into a thin line to stop from laughing. 
“What?” Brenda asks, suddenly from near the drawers. 
You had no idea when she even went there. 
“Nothing,” you reply, before thoughtfully asking, “Bucky, truth or dare?”
“No.”
“Dare it is.” You shine a flashlight at one of the closed drawers. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you get in one of them for a few seconds. Let’s see if the ghosts come at you.”
“You're deranged,” he replies, incredulous. 
“It’s for science,” you insist. “How else will you know for sure?”
“I’m sure it’ll be comfortable,” Brenda quips. “Like a coffin.”
The both of you look at her together in silence.
She shrugs. “It’s what I’ve heard from them.” 
You look at her for a second more, before turning to Bucky. “Anyway, if you want I’ll come lie in there with you.”
“How does that make it better?” he exclaims. “I am not lying in the morgue.”
“Even if I’m in there with you?”
“That’s even worse–”
There’s a loud knock from one of the drawers on Brenda’s side. She looks down at it, almost like she was expecting it. Soon, there are further loud thuds that come from inside the remaining drawers. 
“Hey, Magda,” she calls, before more knocks come from inside. “You’ve got visitors. Say hello.”
You grab the spirit box from behind Bucky’s ear and hold it in the direction of the wall. Nothing registers.
“Animals,” he answers the question hanging in the air calmly. 
“The spirits?” Brenda replies. “They’re not gonna like that.”
Sure enough, a few of the drawers start rattling on their own accord.
You look at Bucky with an eyebrow raised.
“What?” he carps. “I’m not gonna go lie down in there, if that’s what you want.”
“Come on, take one for the team,” you whine. 
“You take one for the team.” 
“I’m literally the one pulling all the weight around here. You do it.”
Bucky doesn’t agree with you on the last part, but the first one is undisputably right. He makes a mental note to start contributing a fuckton more if he plans on continuing on in the series. 
The rattling around comes to a halt eventually. 
“If none of you want to get in there, should we move to the next one?” Brenda points to the door. 
“Yes, please,” you confirm, sending Bucky a glare.
She leads the way up the stairs while you both follow, bickering and shoving lightly.
Once upstairs, Bucky glances down the hall, only to  see a large double door that is noticeably different from the rest you’ve seen so far. There’s a fading rainbow drawn on the front, little footsteps painted onto the floor leading towards it.
Bucky hesitates, steps faltering. “Is that the children’s ward?”
“Yes,” Brenda looks over her shoulder briefly. 
For a second, he wonders. Whether it was worth a shot. He hadn’t heard from her since the incident at the house, and the tarot cards have been suggesting nothing but reasons to believe she may actually be there.  
“Are we going to check that out?” he asks. 
“No, there’s nothing there,” she shrugs it off. “No spirits. I’ve asked the others too.” 
Bucky shifts uncomfortably. “Are you sure?”
You shoot him an odd look that he refuses to meet. 
“Yep. Next stop’s the other way.”
Bucky spares the doors another long look, before traversing down the hallway with you. 
“Why do you wanna go to the children’s ward?” you query, voice low. 
“Just thought it was worth checking out,” he replies, voice steady.  
“We can always make a run for it and go check.”
“No,” he says, giving you a curt shake of his head, “it’s alright.”
“We’re right down this way,” Brenda calls, turning a corner and disappearing out of sight.
“Coming!” you call back before spinning to Bucky. “Hey.”
“What?” he responds, moving at his own brisk pace. 
You tug him back with you with force. 
“What are you doing–’ he hisses.
You link your arm with Bucky’s, pulling him along with you as you walk, shutting him up. He eyes your elbow looped with his and the proximity with which you walked beside him and all of a sudden, the back of his neck feels quite warm, extending down to his chest.
“I think Brenda’s a ghost,” you tell him casually.
Bucky stops in his path, drawn very much back to reality. 
“Keep walking,” you grit through a smile. “I’m pretty sure she’s dead. Why else is she totally chill with the ghosts here-”
“Because there aren’t any. It’s animals.”
“Why is she saying coffins are comfortable? Why is she talking to the ghosts and knowing exactly where they are and aren’t?”
“I can make shit up too, look,” Bucky comments enthusiastically. “Oh, down the hall is the isolation room. You’ll hear heavy breathing because that’s where the tuberculosis patients were–”
“That’s one of the isolation rooms,” Brenda’s voice echoes down the hall. “It’s next up.”
You yank your arm away from Bucky when he blinks, a bit surprised himself. 
“Are you dead?” you whisper-yell.
“Only ‘cause the government declared it,” he sighs. “Do you know what a fuckin’ pain it is to get undead.” 
“Come on.” Brenda beckons to the both of you with her flashlight. 
With a slight shove, the door to the room swings open easily, but the smell of old paper and mildew floods your senses. 
The bed is now a rusted, sagging frame, the thin mattress long since torn and discolored with age. The once-clean sheets have yellowed and frayed, with remnants of old stains. Thin, brittle blankets lie in a heap on the floor.
The walls are bare, save for a few faded medical charts and broken instruments that were left behind in haste. The small window that once offered a faint glimpse of the outside is now cracked and filthy. The weak, filtered light that struggles through the dust-covered glass barely illuminates the room. 
“Patients who were highly contagious were quarantined here. Some of them died without family by their side, so you can still hear their cries. Some of them have problems breathing, so sometimes you’ll hear it through the vents,” Brenda explains. 
“I bet,” Bucky drags out, sending you a “I fuckin’ told you so” look.. 
Down the hall, something makes a loud sound, almost like something had crashed into the floor. 
All three of you turn towards it. 
Brenda’s face flickers for a moment before turning back to its regular calm. 
“I think someone’s angry,” she decides. “I’m gonna go check it out.”
“Do you want us to come with you?” you offer.
“I’ll be okay, I’ve known these people all my life. We’re friends,” she comforts. “Oh, sometimes if you look out the door, you’ll see shadows of people in the waiting room down the hall. They’re just old families lingering around, hoping for better results but they always leave upset.”
“Is there no way to get them out of here?” you ask.
She shrugs. “Unless you find a way to fix their disappointment, I doubt they'll leave. They’ll stick around until something improves or changes.” 
Bucky’s eyebrows furrow at the implication. If that were truly the case, and not just something he concocted in the deep, self hating crevices of his mind, then he had to figure out which part of the fucked up mess that he was had pissed his sister off enough to come back to let him know she was disappointed. 
You nod at her and she nods, spinning on her heel to exit the room, but not before she stops for a second, hand on the doorframe as she catches her breath, and one hand on her spine.
“Are you okay?” you sound genuinely concerned.
She flashes you a thumbs up, leaving without so much as another word. 
“She’s gonna come back with some bullshit about the hospital canteen staff dropping their pans or some shit,” Bucky remarks.
“Yeah no, that was me. I just wanted her out of the room so we could discuss something,” you wave it off quickly. 
Bucky stares at you.
“What? I dropped a cart. It’s not a big deal. Anyway, listen–”
“She’s not a ghost,” he states resolutely.  
“But what if she is,” you insist, a wicked grin on your face. “Imagine saying we got a ghost tour. By a ghost.”
“I can imagine saying that, yes. I have a very wide and limitless imagination.” 
“Ugh, what if we’re meant to help her find her way back?” You peer over his shoulder to see if she’s walking back. 
In the distance another crash sounds through the empty hallways. Bucky stares at you.
“I’m just making sure, it’s not like I’m hurting anyone” you insist, dismissing it. 
“You could've just closed the door,” he says, extending one hand behind him to slide it closed.
“Don’t do that,” you blurt out.
He stops, eyebrow raised.  
“I don't like when doors are closed,” you shrug it off. “Anyway, back to the point. We should totally figure out how to help her exit this realm.”
He slides the door back open slowly, narrowing his eyes at you. 
“EVen if she were a ghost, which she’s not– she seems happy here. Maybe,” Bucky comments, taking a seat on the worn out bed. “I can’t really tell.”
“She can’t be. Imagine being forced to roam the same hallways over and over again till the end of time.” you shudder. “Sounds miserable.”
Bucky shrugs, poking at the pillow, watching a cloud of dust fly up from it. “Routine sounds fine to me.”
“I’d hate it,” you counter immediately. “I hate routines. Fucking inescapable once you get stuck in one.”
Bucky watches you curiously as you shift up and down the small room. “How do you get anything done?” 
“I can get things done without a routine.” The camera follows your command, checking outside the window or the door occasionally facing Bucky. “Why?”
“Just asking,” he replies, checking the time on his phone. It’d been a while since Brenda had gone to investigate.
“And having a routine totally makes you an easy target. Haven’t you watched any assassination movies?”
“No. I didn’t like bringing work home.”
You look at him in surprise before your face splits into a smile. 
Something makes a noise from the wall adjacent to the door. 
You both look at each other, and he gets off the bed to go see what the deal is. The door is adjacent to the wall, giving him a clear look into the hallway that was still empty. 
A faint wail sounds through the vent above his head. You take quick steps towards where he was, and the camera follows suit, pointing at the grill on the wall.
You stand underneath it, spirit box raised as close as you could get it, but the damn thing picks up nothing. 
Another noise comes through, almost like someone was wheezing, before the vent rattles, stopping altogether.
You stare at it, before taking a gigantic inhale and exhaling obnoxiously, forcing all the air out of your lungs with a wheeze. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” Bucky stares at you like you're insane. 
“Well, you can’t just back down,” you argue. “I’m gonna breathe louder than that thing.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles.
You give another gigantic inhale and exhale, rattling all the bones in your body, and the faint noise from the vent stops too. 
“We win,” you beam 
 “You’ve completely lost it.”
“Uh, no, I didn’t. I totally won.”
“That’s not what I–” Bucky starts but stops himself when you grin at him devilishly. 
He sighs, asking instead, “Should we go looking for her?” 
“I guess so,” you shrug. “We’re not exactly cut to be her saviours right now. I’m pretty sure she knows the layout of the hospital better than we do if she’s been haunting it for fifteen years.”
“Where did you get that number?” he demands. 
“Does it matter?” you urge. “Didn’t realise you’re a valid ghost only if you have a certain number of years in haunting.”
Bucky ignores you, taking off down the hall. 
“If you had to haunt a hospital or a ship, what would you choose?” you quip, matching his pace. 
“Hospital,” he answers without thinking much.
“Why?”
“I spent a lot of time in them,” he tells you, voice clear. “Steve’s mom was a nurse. We’d meet her there a lot when he got his ribs broken or his nose busted.”
The memory, though faint, is enough to pull a smile from him. 
“He also used to be sick a lot, so I used to come pick up his medicine for him,” he adds. “They used to know us by name because we’d be there nearly every second day.”
You exhale a small laugh. “Every hospital in the state of New York has a chart for Steve even now.”
“Fuckin’ guy just dosn’t learn.” Bucky shakes his head with affection-laced irritation. 
The hallways stretch out endlessly, dim and wide. A few doors line the walls, some ajar, revealing only darkness inside. The silence is unnerving, broken only by the soft sound of you and your footsteps.
Bucky looks over at you. “What about you?”
“What about me?” you hum, small smile still on your face. 
“What would you haunt?
“Ship, I guess,” you reply. “I’ve always wanted to be a pirate.”
“Should be your next job.”
“You gonna come with? We’ll turn it into a vlog.
“Fuck no.”
“Well, thanks for taking the time to really consider it,” you sing, not really offended. “Way to let me down gently, Barnes.”  
“What? It’s got nothin’ to do with you.” Bucky clarifies still, pausing before letting out, “I get seasick. Can’t be on water for more than five minutes before I’m throwing up all over the place. You want that in your vlog?”
It’s enough to elicit a laugh from you, that in turn makes the corner of his lip curl.
“We could always–
Right in front of him, something moves darts across the wall at the end of the hall.
It cuts you off mid-sentence too, the both of you glancing at each other before turning towards it again.
Against the glare of your flashlight, another shadow darts across the wall. 
“That’s what she was talking about,” you whisper, slightly in disbelief that she wasn't wrong. “Shadow people. Do you think they got to her?”
Bucky rolls his eyes, continuing to walk on ahead. 
“Um, hello?” you scramble to catch up with him. “Where is your self preservation?”
“Against what?” he asks stoically. 
“That,” you say pointedly at the wall, when another figure darts across the wall and disappears out of sight. 
Bucky rolls his eyes. “It’s a shadow, the fuck’s it gonna do?”
“Haven’t you heard of shadow demons? Succumbing to darkness?” you chastise. 
Bucky stops walking, standing solidly in the middle of the hallway.
“Okay,” he says, refusing to budge. 
The hall goes silent, no movement other than the steady rise and falls of your chest. 
You stare at him. “Now what.”
“I'm waiting for them to do something,” he says. “I’m waiting to succumb to the darkness.” 
“You’re so annoying,” you bite, dragging him along with you. “And I’m tired, we’ve been walking for like, eight hundred hours. Let’s go.”
“We’ve been here for two hours,” he reminds you, taking a turn into the corner that the shadows disappeared into. “You did this to yourself.”
“Fine, next time I’ll bring an electric scooter with me.” You huff. “And I won’t even let you use it.”
“Where’d Brenda fuckin’ go?” Bucky mumbles, eyes squinting into the darkness to see if there are any clues.
“Where are you guys going?” Someone pipes up from behind you, sending the hairs on his neck up. 
The both of you spin around instantly, arms clenched in a fighting stance. 
“Sorry, it's a habit to take the scenic route back.” She chuckles, unfazed. “Not a lot to do when you’ve been here so long.”
The both of you lower your hands slowly, letting out an exhale.
“Y’all ready to head out?” she inquires, coolly. “I think it’s time we all get some rest.” 
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The walk back is relatively quicker, ater she leads you down a path she calls a shortcut. 
The only thing that slowls you down are the occasional stops you had to make for her back ache.
Right by the entrance of the hospital, she holds onto the door frame again in the midst of explaining who was haunting the basements. 
After a particularly hard exhale and a clamour to stand back up, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat to ask, “Have you tried this stretch?”
“What?” Brenda asks, eyes curious. 
“Learnt it in physio. Doesn’t cure it, but it helps,” he explains, craning his neck to the sides, before taking a step ahead towards her.  
You watch him in thinly veiled delight as he shows her exactly what joint to bend and in which angle, and the degree to which she had to pivot.
He even uncomfortably guides her shoulders in the strangest yoga session you’d ever witnessed. 
“Should help,” Bucky mumbles, taking a step away. 
She raises her shoulders and drops it, lips pursuing and bows raising in a look that seems impressed. The small hunch she carried wit her seems to have disappeared too. 
“Let’s go,” Bucky doesn’t wait for a thanks or anything, taking a step away from her and towards the exit. 
“Now that you’ve fixed her back ache, how do we fix her haunting the place?” you ask lowly. 
“She’s not a fuckin’ ghost, she’s fine,” he whispers back. 
“Nothing about what she’s said tonight is normal,” you argue.
The night is clear and cool when you step out, the musty scent of the building dissipating almost immediately.
“Just say bye, we’re fuckin’ leaving,” Bucky shoots. 
You sigh loudly, giving him a glare at his lack of helpfulness before plastering a smile on your face and turning around. 
“Well, thanks for everything, Brenda,” you say, turning around to stick your hand out. “We sure couldn’t have–”
But she’s gone.
“Holy shit,” you say. 
Bucky looks over his shoulder at the disturbance, before turning around fully. “Oh, fuck off.”
“I told you she was a ghost,” you gush. “You fixed her back ache and now she has crossed over to the other side.”
“Shut up,” he replies, looking all over the place for a sign of where she could have disappeared to. 
“You did it, Bucky, you helped a lonely spirit,” you cheer. 
“I did not.”
“Hey!” Someone shouts from afar, commanding your attention to the gate again. 
“Not again,” Bucky mumbles, eyes snapping shut. 
“More ghosts,” you point out excitedly. “Come on, Charon, ferry those spirits–”
“You ferry your own spirits, I’m going to sleep,” he interjects, fully intending on ignoring the person at the gate and simply getting in the car.
“What are you guys doing here?” A man pants, jogging up to the both of you before Bucky had the time to leave. 
“We were just taking a look around,” you say, sticking your hand out, much to Bucky’s displeasure. “We heard the place was haunted.”
“Ah, I see,” he replies, taking in your appearance. “Podcasters?”
“No,” Bucky replies instantly. 
“We were just leaving,” you cut in. “We already got a tour by this ghost, and Bucky totally sent her to the afterlife.”
“I did not,” he seethes. 
“She disappeared after saying ominous shit this entire evening, what do you call that?” you challenge. 
“Going home,” Bucky responds, frustrated that he was clearly not afforded the same privilege.  
“Uh–” the guy holds up his finger. “--not to intrude, but you got a tour by a ghost?”
“Yes,” you bubble over with excitement. 
“And this ghost… did they have a backache?”
Bucky’s interest piques, the irritation giving way to intrigue . 
“You know her?” you puzzle.
“Uh yeah, that’s Brenda,” he admits sheepishly. “She’s very much alive.”
Bucky would have sworn he had never been this elated in his life, but unfortunately he realises very quickly that he simply does not care.  
 “She said she was a security guard here– wait, who are you?”  you tilt your head at him, seemingly not upset at all. It reduces Bucky’s non-existent triumph even more. 
“Travis Dowell, Labyrinth Inc. representative,” he says, shaking your hand. “We’re–”
“--the company that bought the place,” you complete, eyebrow raised.  
“Yeah.” He nods. “Brenda was a security guard here for nearly thirty years. We had to let go of her when we bought the hospital. We’ve been trying to turn it into an apartment for years, but there’s a lot of red tape that we have to get past because of healthcare reasons.”
“Yeah, she told us that it got bought,” you follow along. 
“Hospital was in the worst financial situation possible. There was just no way out.” He shrugs. “But she was super attached to this place. She didn’t take the redevelopment plans well, so she’s taken it upon herself to make sure it never happens, I guess? I don’t know, she spends a lot of time here convincing people that it’s haunted so that people don’t build anything here. She’s got an apartment close by so she knows when someone’s around. You’ll probably find her there, if you want.”
“You guys know about her?” Bucky questions, crease between his eyebrows.
“Uh, yeah, we do,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We sorta ignore her. Her schtick’s annoying, but it’s not the reason we haven’t demolished this place yet. Once all the zoning issues get cleared up, the building’s coming down. And besides, all the PR’s just gonna have people pay a shit ton to stay here. You know, novelty of it being haunted, and all that.” 
“How’d you know we were here?” you ask pointedly. 
“We’ve set up motion sensors in the place?” he replies. “You may have seen them. The red lights in the operation rooms. We know she takes people there.”
“Oh, that’s what that was,” you turn to Bucky who simply shakes his head lightly. 
“Yeah, she really goes the extra mile.” Travis shifts from one leg to the other. “There’s raccoons in the morgue that start running around if she hits the door. What else… oh yeah, she’s made a hole in one of the isolation rooms to make noises through the wall.”
Bucky wonders what will happen of all the footage now that none of it was essentially real. It made sense why she kept trying to find out where the video was going to be posted and how many people were going to view it now, as if a large number of views were going to save her beloved building. 
“So you’ll just let her do whatever until the demolition happens?” you question. 
“If it gets her to stop vandalising our office downtown.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t make a difference to us either way.”
“Right. So the real horror…” you say. “...is capitalism.”
Travis stares at you, before raising and dropping his shoulders. “Sure.”
“Alright.” You blow out an exhale. “Well, was anything about tonight real?”
“I mean, she really does have back pain,” he adds helpfully.
You turn to Bucky. “Net positive, then.”
Sure. Why the fuck not.
“Okay, Travis, thanks for this. You’ve been an immense help,” you say aloud, hoisting the camera onto your shoulders. “You can watch us on The Graveyard Shift, if we can figure out what to do with all these videos now.”
“Sorry about that,” he replies, shoving his fists into his pocket. “Good night.”
You watch as he turns and jogs away to his car that was parked a bit closer to the gate than yours was. 
Bucky plucks the camera off your shoulder and places it under his arm, even though he’s well aware you can carry fifteen of them at once.
“That was fun,” you tell him, seemingly over it already. 
“I’m fuckin’ starving,” he replies. 
Bucky should be glad then, that he didn’t bother with the children’s ward, if nothing about tonight was real–
“Travis, wait,” you shout all of a sudden. “What about the shadows?” 
“What shadows?” he calls back, confused. 
“The shadow people moving across the hall from the isolation room?”
He raises his eyebrows. “We haven't heard reports of that.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Bucky mumbles.
“Hell yeah,” you reply, knocking into his shoulder. “Haunted hospital, baby.”
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When you walk into the dining room, you don’t really expect anyone to be there that late at night.
But fiery red hair pulled into a ponytail and an oversized t-shirt perched at the kitchen counter catches you off guard, dulling the arguing between you and Bucky as you argue the logistics of Brenda having a hand in the shadow demons. 
“Took you guys long enough,” Nat keeps her mug down on the counter before hopping off the chair. You note that it’s the same one you got her a few weeks ago from the flea market, the blue ceramic one.
“Oh, hi!” you smile wide, when she pulls you into a hug. “I thought you were in Lagos.”
“I was,” she replies, pulling away. “Got done early.”
“Of course you did. Overachiever.”
In the end of the common room, Bucky can hear the faint sounds of late night infomercials play through the TV. Clint’s legs hung off the couch as he lay snoring in front of it, blanket dropped on the floor in a heap. 
“Hot chocolate?” she offers. 
“I’m good, we went to the drive-through before coming back.” You beckon with your shoulder towards Bucky. 
She finally turns to him. “Hey.”
Bucky gives her a curt nod, glad that she’s back safe. 
“Why were you out so late?” She gives him a onceover, before raising an eyebrow. “Together.”
“Hospital date.”
“Video shoot,” he says at the same time, glaring at you. You shrug. 
Nat’s lip trails up into a smirk. “Put on your big boy pants and finally admit your crush?”
Bucky drags a palm down his face. “I do not have a crush.”
“If you say so,” she concedes innocently, eyeing him over the rim of her hot chocolate.  
“Are you all in on this? Do you have a quota to reach?” he groans. “Why’s everyone asking me this?”
“Who is ‘everyone’?” you sound delighted. 
“If you don’t want people to call you out on our shit, maybe don’t walk around with heart eyes,” Nat comments.  
Buck’s look is ice cold, but Nat just gives him a wink when you laugh. 
“Hey, I needed to talk to you about something.” She turns to you. “You free for a second?”
“Always,” you reply in earnest. 
Nat leads you a few steps away, hand on your shoulder.  
Bucky takes his seat at the counter, stealing a sip from Nat’s mug. Of course, it was fantastic. Overachiever.
He tunes out intentionally, focusing on the fact that Clint was splayed out on the couch with the TV on a low volume. He knows for a fact the blonde was asleep, and probably would wake up with the worst neck pain in his life, but this was the life he chose.
After watching Clint nearly fall off the couch twice, he looks away, not intending on prying on your conversation but vaguely watching the interaction out of the corner of his eye.
He frowns at what he sees. Nat’s face has turned solemn while she talks to you in hushed tones. Your eyebrows were pulled together, arms crossed over your chest. 
Bucky feels a shift in the air, but he’s not sure what exactly has gone down. 
Nat finally tells you something surely, and you nod. She cups the side of your face and you force out a smile at her, before her hand drops.
The both of you make your way back to him. He turns his gaze back to the counter. 
“You owe me a hot chocolate,” Nat tells him, before giving him a quick kiss on the temple and stealing her cup right back. 
“I barely drank any,” he retorts, eyes still trained on you.
The TV clicks off and she drags a half asleep Clint back down the hall to his bedroom while the man rubbed at his shoulders, trailing behind her obediently. 
Meanwhile, you grab a glass of water from the tap, drinking it slowly as you head towards the elevator.
“G’night, Buck,” you tell him, passing by him.
“Hold on,” he says, voice less gruff than before as he watches you, face tight, “What’s going on?
You observe him for a few long seconds, but he gets the sense you aren’t exactly looking at him. Your eyes are slightly glazed over, and your mind is… elsewhere. 
“What do you do when people refuse to let go of something you’ve already escaped?” you ask finally.  
“What do you mean?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together tighter.  
“Do you feel like everyone’s eyes are on you?” you say, voice strange. “Like there’s nowhere to go?”
“Where is this coming from? What’d Nat tell you?”
It seems to snap you out of whatever funk you were in, at least partially. “It’s probably nothing.”
His frown only deepens. “Is someone threatening you?”
“No, nothing like that.” You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s gonna be fine.” 
Bucky stares after you as you press the button to the elevator. He isn’t really sure what to make of the what you just shared. He isn’t even sure he should ask Nat about it later on considering that she didn’t want him listening in now. 
He watches the light above the elevator light up before a ding sounds through. 
“Just so you know–”  
Bucky’s eyes snap back to you, one step in the elevator. 
“I had a codename, too,” you tell him. “I just never liked it.”
Bucky is only left staring as you disappear into the elevator, leaving him in silence. 
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runninriot · 2 days ago
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Pining Idiots
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 28
prompt: pining | rated: T | wc: 1.000 | tags: post vecna, mild angst, feelings realisation, love confession, friends to lovers, best friend Robin Buckley
   "You are both so stupid. Hopeless and stupid." Robin throws her hands in the air, frustrated and all out of patience.
Steve must've heard her say those words about a hundred times already but still, he can't find it in him to believe that there's even a flicker of truth within her reasoning.
If Robin were right, Steve would've caught Eddie by now, apparently stealing glances at him. Because there's no way he'd miss Eddie's dark eyes lingering on him, not when Steve's own - for whatever reason - are constantly locked on the guy. He feels naturally drawn to Eddie, has this weird connection to him he can't really explain. But contrary to what Robin is trying to make him consider, he doesn't accept that it's... love.
They're friends. Good friends, maybe even the best. Grown so close over time that now, barely a day goes by where they don't spend time together. Always attached at the hip, somehow even worse than he is with Robin. And yes, Steve gets that it comes off strange for any outsider to see them cuddling and touching and kissing each other goodbye on the cheek without shame. That's not what male friends do, not usually. But fuck that, it's nice.
He enjoys the physical contact. Likes to relish in the other man's warmth when their bodies are pressed together on the couch, one arm around the other's shoulders, or a hand resting on the other's thigh. He likes the familiar scent of leather and cigarette smoke that clings to Eddie's hair and skin, enveloping Steve's senses whenever they're close. Eddie's presence calms him, makes him feel less on edge. After all those years of fighting Demons, it's a blessing to feel at ease.
Eddie is good for him. And Steve knows he, too, has an impact on Eddie. That he's less fidgety when Steve is near. That whenever the healed wounds start to phantom-ache, Steve's hand atop his shirt soothes his body's memorised pain.
They're each other's lifeline, something to hold on to when the turbulent waters of nightmarish dreams threaten to pull them down. This... trauma bond they share, this friendship, keeps them both afloat. But that's all there is to it.
They are not the pining idiots Robin says they are. Apparently too afraid of their feelings for each other, unable to acknowledge that there is something more between them. Emotions allegedly written all over their faces – Robin says it’s obvious, but it’s not.
This isn't love.
It can't be. Steve cannot let himself fall for this ridiculous idea. Because once he goes down that path, once he starts listening close to his heart in search of the truth, there will be no going back.
And he's not ready to lose what he has. Because inevitably, that would be the result of him breaking down the walls he's built to keep his own emotions in check.
Steve cannot love like a normal human being. He is too much, wants too much, gives too much - his love is smothering. All-consuming.
He'd only push Eddie away.
   "Why don't you just ask him?"
Robin's words rip him out of his thoughts and he blinks at her confused.
They're still standing in the kitchen, their friend's voices coming from the other room.
   "You know, if you don't believe me, why don't you ask him if it's true? And if it's not, well. You got nothing to lose. 'Cause you're not in love with him anyway, right?"
He doesn't miss the teasing tone, knows she's testing him, trying to break through his thick skull because she knows that he's lying to himself. Knows him better than he knows himself.
   "And what if you're right?" he asks, seemingly catching her off guard with his question.
   "What if you're right and he does love me back. What then? You really think I won't fuck it up again this time? That I won't ruin it again?"
It hurts to say out loud, to admit that his worst fear isn't rejection. It's the thought of having himself to blame for when it doesn't work out. As always.
And it hurts even more when Robin's face suddenly softens, eyes full of pity when she takes his hands in hers.
   "Babe. It wasn't your fault. Nancy- wasn't the one for you, that's all. You were both meant for someone else, and you-" she squeezes his hands for emphasis, "You could have all those things your stupid, big heart is yearning for. Your person is sitting right there, probably already losing his mind because you've been gone from his side for too long."
Robin laughs but her eyes are glassy and Steve can feel a tear making its way down his own face.
Fuck her for always hitting him right where it aches the most. Where her unforgiving honesty settles and sticks and makes something warm spread in his chest.
   "I know he loves you. And, as dreadful as the thought is because you two are going to be the worst couple ever, I hate to see you both suffer over nothing. Just talk to him. Tell him how you feel."
She pulls him into a hug, holds him tight while he lets his tears fall unrestrained. It's relieving but scary, because she is right.
   "Hey, uh, everything okay?" Eddie's voice suddenly breaks through the silence, startling them apart.
   "Glad you're here," Robin says, "Steve's got something to tell you." And with that, she leaves, a big grin on her face that only grows wider when Steve huffs out a wet laugh, mouthing 'I hate you' at her.
   "Stevie, are you okay? Have you been crying? What's wrong?"
Steve melts at the softness of Eddie's words, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
   "I- I think I'm in love with you, Eddie."
After a moment of silence, Eddie's lips curl into a smile.
   "Oh, well. If you're sure, let me know. I've been dying to finally kiss your pretty mouth.”
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rootspiral · 2 days ago
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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 4
(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])
(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4])
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it's still agatha and her river
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mama, I'm sorry I got upset. mama I'm sorry we're both starving tonight. I promise I'll do better tomorrow.
a six year old taking responsibility and apologizing for his mother's shortcomings.
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agatha looks down at her precious little boy's pleading face
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and she smiles at him, and nicky gives her a big relieved grin.
evanora is not stealing this moment. she did her worst to fuck with agatha's brain chemistry, but in one fundamental thing she failed: agatha is capable of loving her kid. despite all her other shortcomings, she will never blame nicky for her own faults.
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she does a cute little dance for him, and this is what they do, isn't it? he's too small to explain his big feelings and she is too scared, and so they sing to each other and hope the love is understood anyway.
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see how he touches the brooch? if only she could have loved nicky in vacuum, without any of the emotional baggage. but he is only the last link in a long chain of witches, pain and and tears and blood that made him what he is. agatha cannot escape her identity and legacy no matter how much she tries, and she couldn't protect nicky from it either.
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the last time she sees nicky alive he's smiling adoringly at her. this is the boy she can't face in the afterlife, because her own guilt is so strong she's convinced he will hate her.
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nicky dies peacefully in his mother's arms. his soul wakes up and sees rio waiting for him.
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that some good cinema dear lord
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rio waves at nicky. he doesn't know her (when who will return?) but he still trusts her implicity - she's been around him his whole short life, in the woods, in the water, in his lungs.
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and - the bit that destroyed us all - she makes nicky go to agatha one last time. go kiss your mama goodbye.
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light and dark, growth and decay, here and beyond.
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remember when alice died and the camera turned upside down? ot stops halfway here. agatha has been affected so profoundly by nicky's death that she can never let herself go back to the land of the living, but she's also too scared to follow rio to the other side. she's stuck in the middle, consumed by the impossible dream of bringing nicky back, never allowing herself to find peace and companionship again. in love with death, but running away from it.
(people never seem to make crack and humor vids for episode 9, isn't that curious? when it's soooo fun and lighthearted!)
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well ain't that just brutal
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I have always known
This Road is cruel and wild
I bury my own heart
Here with you, my child
(I think those are lavender flowers? I'm not 100% sure)
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coolcoolcoolcoolcool. that's fine. I'm absolutely fine.
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BARRIERS UP right away. even if she looks like a mess. especially because she looks like a mess. she's not showing weakness in front of anyone, she's protecting her grief like a jealous goblin, and since she cannot run, she straightens her dress and gets ready to fight. the option to ask for help and comfort doesn't even cross her mind.
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her eyes still full of tears / agatha gets another wonderful, awful idea.
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we've seen this so many times, haven't we? the real agatha disappears behind the character she plays. the agatha we've seen from the very start, since the moment she walked into wanda's living room, has been a lie. very few people have ever seen a hint of the poor bruised heart she hides inside, and only to rio and (to some extent) nicky she has ever opened up.
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how can someone go from total heartbreak to planning murder in the span of two minutes? well, you can if you are agatha harkness and have never learned one healthy coping mechanism in your life. and I'm sure she's already rationalizing it as something like "if I get powerful enough I can bring nicky back." but the truth is, she just wants to get drunk on magic and murder and stop feeling so horrible. she's running away, like usual. she's planning to kill witches in front of the grave of the very kid who begged her not to, and she's using his song to do it. as if that's not gonna haunt her or anything.
(it really gets me how agatha's smiles are so different from kathryn's. agatha never smiles with her eyes, except when she's with nicky.)
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agatha's diabolical scam is so stupid if you think about, definitely worthy of the clown she has become. just pretend the Road didn't open and then annoy people into attacking you! better than using a literal child as bait, I guess.
here she absorbs a yellow coven, and yep, it does look like covens are all supposed to be the same color?
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the bodies from the agnes of westview opening.
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orange coven in the late 1800s. I really like that dress and hat on her
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blue coven in the 1920s, and another cunty outfit
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I know you guys like the 90s look, but it makes me laugh how hard she was trying for that Craft vibe. and we don't see the beams color here.
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and finally, our girls. (I miss you all so muchhhhh)
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what do you know! looks like a door has appeared! (sharonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!)
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from fuck has my karma caught up with me to well well well, looks like we have another little maximoff on our hands
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and speaking of little maximoffs and giant assholes...
go to episode 9 part 5
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sxcret-garden · 1 day ago
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Jongho ღ Break You Down [M]
ღ Ateez Jongho x fem-bodied!reader  ღ words: ~6.9k ღ genre & warnings: tiny bits of fluff if you squint but mostly pure filth, smut (sub!Jongho (who needs and wants to be coaxed into submission), dom!reader, dry humping, praise, some punishment & teasing, shibari, choking, handcuffs, edging/orgasm denial, handjobs, oral, overstimulation (all idol receiving), hair pulling (reader receiving), masturbation (both, guided for him), unprotected sex, use of traffic light system (he yellows reader once), he goes into subspace, reader puts on a strap midway, he performs oral on said strap, pegging (idol receiving), a hint of dacryphilia, a single spank (idol receiving), multiple orgasms (both), some aftercare) ღ reader: has a vagina, no other descriptions of reader’s anatomy, no pronouns used
Desc.: It’s the second time Choi Jongho seeks you out to help him take his mind off everything else going on in his life, and it’s also the second time you happily assist him with that.
Author’s note: Some time ago I realized I’ve never written sub!Jongho. Well now I have. Don’t ask how any of this happened because I have no idea either. Enjoy aksjdflköas
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“I knew you’d come back.”
He watches from his spot on the dark red sofa in your room as you slowly walk over to him, his eyes narrowed and fixated on your face. You made him wait for you here while you got changed into your preferred outfit for a scene like this - some simple black lingerie that comfortably wraps itself around your body, elegant and practical, giving you full freedom of movement. He doesn’t answer, and so, when you come to a halt right in front of him, standing between his spread legs, you lift up his chin with your index and middle finger placed underneath it.
“Choi Jongho…” you say his name, letting it roll off your tongue as if testing whether saying it out loud would fit the way you speak or not, and he raises his eyebrows at you ever so slightly. Your fingertips dance down his throat, and you notice the first button on his black dress shirt is undone. “What brings you here?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” he replies, and you can’t wait to wipe that expression off his face that tells you he feels superiour. It’s interesting to you that he still sounds so bold, when it completely contradicts what he’s come here for.
“Is it?” you ask, purely to engage him in a bit of a push-and-pull game to keep the both of you entertained, and because it seems to you that’s what helps ease him into the situation. You sit down in his lap, straddling him, your hands now rested on his shoulders, and you cock your head to the side.
“I would think so, yes,” Jongho replies, his voice deep and quiet, the sound wrapping itself around your ears like honey. Now you can see his gaze wandering to your lips, but he doesn’t dare take in your whole figure.
“Like what you see?” you tease him further, leaning back a little to give him a better view of your body. And now he can’t but accept the invite to take a good, long look at you, and though he doesn’t say anything, you can tell the answer must be yes. You chuckle at his reservedness when his eyes are back on yours, and you lean in closer, stopping with merely a hair’s width between your lips and his. His eyelids flutter shut at the proximity “In your message you said you needed someone to take your mind off things,” you repeat what he had written to you a few hours prior. “Is that what you want me to do?”
He gulps, looking back up at you, and it seems his features have softened as he mouths, “Yes please.” 
“See? It’s not that hard,” you mutter softly, before pressing your lips against his. You kiss him slowly, sensually, letting him fall into your rhythm, and you enjoy the way he kisses you back, his hands finding purchase on your hips. He pulls you just a little closer and you part his lips with your tongue to deepen the kiss. “You feeling okay?” you ask upon parting. “You seem tired.”
“I am…” he sighs, without opening his eyes, and he leans his head back, offering his neck to you - voluntarily or not, you’re not sure, but you can’t resist the urge to press a few kisses to the delicate skin there. 
“Had a rough week?”
“Month,” he corrects you, a bitter laugh escaping him.
“I see…” You come back up to look him in the face, and you can unmistakably see the bags under his eyes and the tension in his features. Cupping his cheeks with your hands and brushing your thumbs against his skin, you lure another sigh out of him, before he opens his eyes to give you a tired look. “I’ll take care of you,” you say, and as he nods, you go in for another kiss. You roll your hips on top of him, and for now you allow him to guide you to keep up a steady pace as you feel his bulge grow in his pants. You make out with him like this for a while, and when you pull away you have him letting out a breathy moan at the friction against his core. 
“I think,” you say, tugging at the hem of his shirt, “this needs to go off.” And so he watches you intently as you open up one button after the other, his well trained chest and soft stomach coming into vision, and you end up gasping at the sight.
“What?” he challenges you, a cocky grin showing on his lips.
“You’re handsome.” You say it matter-of-factly, so as not to flatter him too much, but you really do mean it. Running your palms up his torso once, you add, “Such a pretty boy.” He doesn’t react - for now, you assume, because you still remember quite well how much he relished in the compliment the first time you were with him. Back then he had come to you, not really knowing how to go about meeting a dom he’d only talked to a couple of times on the internet, but he played it off surprisingly well. You also recall it took him quite a while to actually do the thing he came to you for - submitting. And now that he’s here a second time, it makes you think that despite the difficulties of letting go, he must’ve really ended up enjoying himself.
You discard his shirt, tossing it onto the ground, and you marvel at the shapes of his body. Next, you hook two fingers into the waistband of his dress pants, a neat black color as well, and when he doesn’t object or stop you, you rid him of those too. 
“Let’s take all of this off you, hm?” you say as you make him stand, and once there’s no item of clothing left on his body, you guide him over to your bed, making him sit at the edge of it. You bring some rope with you, dark blue, and about one centimeter thick, unwinding it in front of him. “You liked this last time, didn’t you?” Jongho nods, and you continue, “Well, I also liked how you looked in this. So how about I do a few knots on you, and in the meanwhile you can tell me about all that’s stressing you out?”
“Alright,” he agrees, and you get to work. You’ve been wondering how to make the rope fit his body this time even before he arrived here, and you decided to do a simple chest harness on him, not primarily meant to restrict him, but simply because you think the shape would suit him - and the navy blue color does too. You get to work, and as soon as you begin, you can feel him relaxing under your touch.
“So? What’s bothering you?” you ask. 
“Don’t make me think…” he mutters, eyebrows knitted from the stress, and you reach out to cup his face, running your thumb across his bottom lip.
“Oh, I’ll wipe your head clear of all thoughts soon enough, don’t you worry,” you chuckle, and as he looks up at you, you can see his pupils shaking. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He lets out a noise that you interpret as agreement while he looks away, leaning into the touch of your palm. He’s already told you this before, when you received his text message, so you leave it at that for now.
“I just thought it might help you to get stuff off your chest. You can tell me anything,” you remind him.
“I know…” he mutters an answer, and he ponders on where to start as he sits there with his hands in his lap, only moving when you need him to. “I just don’t think this job is for me, you know?”
“How come? I would think you’re good at it.”
“It’s not that… I know I can do it… I think that’s why my father chose me as his successor. And I like the prestige that comes with being almost CEO…” He pauses, and you give him time to think. “It’s just… not what I want to do.”
“What do you want to do?” you ask, as you’re finishing another knot, and before he can answer, you throw in a question, “Too tight?” Jongho shakes his head.
“It’s just right,” he says. 
“Tell me if something feels off.”
“Mhm.” You continue working, laying the rope around his shoulders and his sides to tie him a simple but elegant harness. You think it’s what fits him best.
“Music,” he breaks the silence after a while. “I wanted to do music.” You acknowledge his words with silence. You’re sure there’s nothing you could say to him that would solve his problem, so you decide that simply listening would be the next best option. You move behind his back and continue to work on the harness quietly, listening to the way his breathing seems calmer now than when he came here, and he lets you, merely enjoying the feeling of the rope around his body.
“You’re too pretty for them to stick you in an office all day and force you into the footsteps of your father…” You eventually say, as you finish up your work.
“Hmm? Where do you reckon they should put me instead?” he slurs his words a bit as he visibly enjoys the way your fingertips trace his golden brown skin as you bring them back down his shoulders, yet he says it with amusement in his voice.
“I don’t know,” you reply, and when you run your hand through his hair he leans into your touch and it lures a deep breathy moan out of him. “My bedroom maybe. Like permanently. So I can do this with you all day.” And now he laughs, his eyes still closed as you have him lean his head back fully, so you feel his silky hair against your chest, and when you cup his chin with your hand he finally looks at you. 
“I’m affecting you, huh.” Something about the cocky smile he sends you, and the boost of confidence your words gave him that radiates off of him makes you like him just a bit more. You hum at his assumption, letting go of his chin and letting your hand travel down his upper body, tracing the navy blue knots prettily lined up along his sternum, and then touching the soft skin on his stomach. He keeps staring up at your face, waiting, but the more time you take, the more you can see his jaw tensing up, teeth clenching. 
“I thought that wasn’t a secret,” you answer, finally. “And it’s not like that feeling is one-sided.” As much as he’s trying to hide it, you don’t have trouble reading him, even when the signs are as subtle as they can get. 
“Then hurry…” he mutters, and you can’t but smirk at him, as your other hand snakes around his throat.
“That wasn’t very polite of you just now,” you scold him, though you speak softly, and to punish him your fingertips move right past where he so obviously wants you, running your palm up and down his thigh instead. You can feel him gulp against the hand around his throat, and he probably knows anything else he could say will be used against him, so he keeps quiet for now. “Hmm? No more cheeky remarks for me?” You relish in the glare he sends you - but you’re the one who has him in a chokehold, and he’s the one who wants his dick touched, so he stays silent for his own good. “What a good boy.” You retrieve the hand laying around his throat and use it to run it up his scalp instead, grabbing onto the roots of his hair and pushing him forward, forcing him to look away from you. A groan escapes him as you deprive him of your touch only a second later, but he’s quickly comforted when instead, you move around him on top of the blanket in order to sit in his lap and straddle him. You give his shoulders a gentle push, having him leaning back a little and supporting himself on his hands placed behind him, guiding him into the position you want him in. You take in the sight in front of you, eyes following the lines down his toned body - his chest, the hint of his abs hiding underneath his stomach, down to his navel and his half-hard cock. You feel the burning need to touch him, and yet the urge to play with him some more is bigger.
“What are you thinking right now?” you ask, reaching out to cup his face in your hand, and the way he melts into your touch makes your heart skip a beat. But you don’t show it - or maybe he can read you just as well as you can read him, and any attempt to hide your true feelings is futile. Either way, you press on, “Tell me.” From his current position, it looks like Jongho is looking down on you, and as much as you must admit that the air of dominance suits him, your intentions are entirely different. 
“What do you think?” he asks, mockingly, and as soon as the words have left his lips, your hand returns to his throat, applying just a bit of pressure this time. He gasps in response, shoulders and abs tensing up, but the look in his eyes remains calm.
“I asked you a question, pretty boy,” you say, sitting up on your knees to make yourself taller, now towering above him as you lean in dangerously. Your face is mere inches away from his as you speak, “Answer,” and your fingertips press against his pulse to put an emphasis behind your words. He hesitates, but you can unmistakably sense the cracks opening up on his facade - you wonder what it will take you this time around, to break it completely. 
To break him completely.
“You…” he finally says, as if it had taken him all of his willpower to utter that single word. “I’m thinking about you… getting me off…” You gift him a smile, finding it entirely too amusing how much it’s taking out of him to form even just such a vague request.
“You’re not used to this, huh?” you ask, removing your hand from his throat and placing it onto his chest instead, while you sit back down on top of his thighs. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you clarify, “Having to ask for the things you really want.” You know you hit the bullseye when it seems like his face is suddenly a few shades paler than it was before, and you let your palm wander from his shoulder down his arm and to his hand. You notice his fingers are cold when you wrap yours around them, giving him an encouraging squeeze.
“You’ll learn how to do it,” you attempt to comfort him, and you can see his mask sliding right back on. “I’ll teach you.” Then you move your hand away from his, and towards his core, and he inhales sharply as you make contact with his cock. Slowly, you begin jerking him off, his eyes glued to your hand and teeth clenched harder, the longer you test his patience. “Want more?” you ask, accompanied by a challenging raise of your eyebrow, and you capture his chin with the thumb and index finger of your free hand, so you could lift it up and force him to look at you. “Then ask for it.” You get nothing but a glare in return, but when your fist reaches his tip, he lets out a shaky breath and looks away from you nonetheless. “You won’t?” you ask, moving your hand down his shaft once more, and back up again, having him fully hard in your hand by now. “Too bad.” And then, as you’re removing your hand from where he wants you most, he quickly reaches out to catch you by your wrist.
“That’s not what we’re doing here, and you know it,” you warn him, commencing a battle of glares. And his fatigue alone is giving you a big advantage here, and with the end goal in mind, you’re not averse to making use of it. 
Besides - you know that if he seriously wanted to overpower you and win, using his sheer strength he could. But he won’t, and so you let him have this fight, his tired eyes glaring into yours, as you wait for the right moment to attack. To give him the chance to at least go down with dignity.
“You didn’t come here to fight,” you mutter eventually, and his grip around your wrist weakens. You seize your chance and slip out of his hold, wrapping your fingers around his wrist instead, and when you bring it above his head as you push his back into the mattress using your weight, you know he let you win. “Seems like I’ll have to fall back on more extreme measures to keep you in your place, huh? So you won’t get any… ideas again.” You reach for his other hand as well, and with a pair of handcuffs conveniently attached to the headrest of your bed, you force his hands into a fixed position.
“You like that better?” you ask, crawling off him, and without giving him the chance to answer, your hand is back on his cock, continuing your painfully slow ministrations on him. His gaze is filled with distrust as he looks at you, and rightfully so, but as you begin playing with his hair, you lull him into a false sense of safety. 
Of course you’re not going to let him cum just yet. But even you can’t resist the faces of pleasure he shows you as you adjust your speed a little.
“Does that feel good?”
“...yeah…” Jongho sighs under your touch, bucking his hips into your fist, his breathing growing shakier the longer you go on.
“Then I’m glad…” you whisper, your fingertips dancing from his hair down to his cheek and you lean in to press your lips against his for the fraction of a second. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I stop though…” You know he expected you to take your hand away too soon when he merely throws his head back in frustration. However, you don’t let it eat at him for too long. Instead, you crawl on top of him, and you connect your lips to his again, in a rather sweet kiss. You haven’t fully figured out yet what it is about him that makes you want to comfort him so badly, but you end up moving your lips against his more gently than you usually would. And even when you were planning for but a teasing kiss, you hesitate to tear yourself away from his mouth, both warmth and excitement rushing through your veins and making you feel dizzy at the way he kisses you back with that same unexpected softness. You say nothing as you finally do move away from him, bringing mere inches between the two of you, and when you notice the blush that has creeped onto his cheeks, your chest swells with pride. You lower your hips onto his thigh, letting out contented sighs as you begin grinding against him through the fabric of your underwear. Lips nipping at his throat, your hands naturally wander up his arms, scanning the movement of his muscles underneath the skin, until they’re securely wrapped around his wrists, just underneath where the metal of the handcuffs keeps him in place. Tiny moans escape you as you scatter kisses down his throat and the friction keeps building up against your core.
“You know what?” you whisper as you sit up, moving around a bit so you end up comfortably sat on his stomach.
“What?” Jongho asks, half-lidded eyes giving away that his resistance is fading ever so slowly. Taking him in as you scan his face and torso once again, your hand finds its way to your middle. 
“I really wanna get myself off on you.” He gulps - you didn’t expect him to, but it’s making you need that release that much more. Fingertips swiftly pushing aside the fabric of your panties, you moan at the feeling of your dripping cunt, all while never taking your eyes off him. “Watch,” you order, and while you start rubbing precise circles onto your clit, his gaze slowly drops to where you’re pleasuring yourself. “Wish it was you, huh?” He doesn’t answer, but when you easily push two fingers inside, he lets out a shaky breath.
“Shit…” You don’t miss the curse he hisses, and along with the image of his arms flexing against the restraints and your fingertips skillfully hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over again, it’s making you lose your mind at least a little. You moan at the pleasure coursing through your body, making sure to angle yourself so he could get a perfect vision of your fingers pumping in and out of you, and you find yourself captivated by the way it’s showing on his face how he too has his sanity slowly slipping away from him. 
“Wanna be inside me, right?”
“...yes.” You tear your hand away from your pussy, panting for air. 
“That’s a good boy…” you praise him, and you think for the first time that night you can see a hint of the effect it has on him in his eyes. Bringing your hand up to his face, you coat his lips with your juices, and you watch intently as the tip of his tongue darts across to lick it all up. “Now open up…” you mutter, but he was ready to take your fingers into his mouth anyway, tongue running along them as he cleans you up. “That’s right,” you praise him, and his eyelids flutter shut for but a moment. And then, when he’s all done, you position yourself, watching his drunk gaze flick from your hand to your hips, and as you begin sinking down on him, taking in his size inch by inch, he lets out a moan that probably comes out more desperate than he had intended. The blush on his ears follows suit, and you praise him as you roll your hips on top of him,
“Sound so pretty…” You mutter the words and end with a moan of your own as he stretches you out, fitting inside you so perfectly, and once you’ve taken him in fully, you wrap your hand around his throat once more. “Don’t you dare cum without my permission.” Your words sound sharp, and the look on his face tells you he isn’t planning on obeying. However, you’ve never been one to say no to a little challenge, and so you begin riding him, fingers on your free hand tending to your clit, while you watch his face contort in pleasure. But he does his damndest to regain his composture at least externally, to give you as little hints as possible as to how close he is or isn’t, and you smirk at him, already feeling the knot in your stomach tightening.
“Don’t think you can win this one, pretty boy…” you spit the words at him, tightening the grip on his throat as a warning.
“Fuck…” he cusses, pressing his eyelids shut tightly now, with his teeth and fists clenched. He’s probably fighting the pending high, and with that thought in mind and a few more movements on top of him, your orgasm hits you, your walls contracting around his hard cock. 
You find pearls of sweat on top of his chest and his forehead as you crawl off him, and you lower yourself to kiss them off his skin.
“You don’t really wanna disobey me, do you?” you wonder out loud. “Or… were you hoping you’d get a little reward if you listened to me?” With your palm drawing circles on his stomach, you allow him to catch his breath. He doesn’t answer, and once he looks at your face, you begin touching him once again. 
“Are you gonna tell me when you’re close?” you ask, and he nods, his dark brown eyes scanning your face, and his lips parting to give way to a gasp as you start getting him off once more. “Feels good?”
“Yeah…” His breathing grows heavy, and with each time he exhales, he lets you hear a moan, each one sounding prettier than the previous one the closer you stroke him to his high. 
“Wanna cum, pretty boy?” you ask alluringly, finding him nodding at your question eagerly. With his eyes closed, he misses the smirk forming on your lips, and you almost feel bad for what you’re about to do.
“‘m getting close…” he lets you know, and when he bucks his hips into your hand, you deprive him of your touch, and you watch as he slowly begins to realize that this time as well, he’s been denied. Jongho holds his breath for a few seconds, and when he exhales he hisses a curse filled with anger and frustration, tearing at the handcuffs so strongly it must be painful for him. You watch, thinking to yourself how pretty he is, struggling like that, and then slowly calming down again.
“And that,” you then speak, “is what you get for trying to disobey me.” He’s visibly fighting the frustration in his mind, and that’s when you know you’ve hit the point where you have to give him something in return soon. You’ve learned this the hard way the first time he came to you, and you won’t make the same mistake again. “What’s your color, baby?” you ask, reaching out to undo the handcuffs one by one.
“...yellow,” he hesitates, but says it eventually.
“I’ll make it better… is that okay?” You gently run the back of your hand down his cheek and caress the skin on his chest when he nods. “Do you trust me?” He nods again.
“Yeah.” 
You kiss him, gently, bringing your lips to the corner of his mouth before you lead him into an open mouthed kiss. He lets you take the lead, and despite that, you can eventually feel his now warm palms being placed onto your waist. And though his touch is light, it feels as if he was desperately holding onto you, as you run your tongue along his. 
“I’ll make you feel good. Don’t you worry,” you assure him, and you feel his hands grazing your sides as you move south. You position yourself between his legs, and with his fingers up in your hair, tugging at the strands softly, you flatten your tongue and lick up a stripe along the underside of his painfully hard cock. Even this much is enough to make him whine, and you know that now you have him almost where you want him. You hum in approval, and then you wrap your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks as you take him into your mouth, with one hand wrapped around his base for some extra stimulation. Judging from the rather desperate noises he makes, it won’t take much time nor effort to have him coming undone underneath you, and yet you monitor him closely for his reactions, eager to make him feel as good as you possibly can. You hum at the way he moans at your touches, and you bob your head up and down along his shaft, until he hits the back of your throat, and you feel him pulling on your hair as he’s overwhelmed with pleasure. You want to praise him, but you decide to focus on getting him off, and so instead you moan at the way little whines keep falling from his lips. He doesn’t tell you when he’s about to cum, but you’ve seen it coming anyway, with his flushed dick twitching in your mouth, followed by the salty taste of his seed spilling all over your tongue mere seconds later. You swallow all of it, and as he lets go of your hair, ready to catch his breath, you continue sucking him off. His fingers find the bedsheets instead, gripping at them until his knuckles turn white and a string of curses escapes him. 
“Shit… ah… f-fuck…” You enjoy the sounds of him losing control while you overstimulate him, feeling his cock hardening again in your mouth, and gradually even the curses he utters get replaced by nothing but desperate moans. 
“Doing so good for me…” you praise him, a little out of breath yourself, as you let your hand take over to get a better look at his face distorting from the pain and the pleasure. “So, so good…” you mutter, and you feel like you could cum again from the state you’ve just put him in alone. It’s like his body isn’t sure whether to get closer to you or escape, and so one moment he’s arching his back, bucking his hips into your hand, and the other he’s throwing his head back, eyebrows knitted as he whines at your touch. Either way, you don’t stop tending to his cock, stroking him at just the right pace as he writhes underneath you, and then finally, with a broken moan, he cums for a second time, spilling all over his stomach.
You watch as the tension slowly leaves his body while he fights for air, and you reach over to the tissues on your bedside table to clean him up a bit. Then you position yourself so he can comfortably lay his head into your lap, and you find yourself chuckling at the image unfolding right in front of you when he rolls onto his side to wrap an arm around you with a pout on his lips.
“You did well,” you say, and he lets out a content sigh as you play with his hair. “You feeling okay?” He nods, moving his hand from your hips down your thigh, thumb drawing circles on your skin. Eventually he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, and he reaches up to cup your face with his big hand. You smile at him in return, taking a hold of his palm and moving it aside. “I’m really taking a liking to you, you know?”
“Me too…” he mutters, his soft hair tickling your stomach, and his hazy eyes glued to your face.
“Do you want more?” His lips part at your question, and slowly, he nods. “Then sit up for me.” And he does, without hesitation. You run your nails up his back until you reach the navy blue string tied around his chest. “Is this getting uncomfortable?” He thinks for a little while, before he shakes his head. “Good. Good boy.” His gaze softens when you praise him, and the pout on his lips appears again when you get up off the bed. 
“I wanna try something,” you announce, opening the drawer of your dresser where you store your toys. “How do you feel about this?” You hold out a harness to him, made of matte black leather and with a sturdy ring in the middle to hold a strap on. He gulps at the sight, but there’s a spark of interest in his eyes, so you slip into the harness and you choose a black medium sized dildo to go with it. Then you walk back over to the bed.
“Come here,” you order once you’re standing in front of it, and he gets up, approaching you. For some reason he seems taller now, compared to when he arrived here, yet his eyes reflect a kind of devotion you haven’t seen in him even when you played with him for the first time. His hands find your hips naturally, but you take a step back to break contact.
“Down.” He drops to his knees immediately upon hearing your command, the blush creeping back to his cheeks, and you lift up his chin to make him look up. “That’s a good boy.” Gulping, lips parted, he waits for your next move. “Open up,” you say, and he does, albeit a bit hesitantly. You make sure to encourage him with praises as he sticks out his tongue, but his blush only deepens when he makes contact with the toy attached to your core, and you can’t help but chuckle.
“You’re not used to being the submissive one, huh?” you assume, and he shakes his head, muttering a small “no”. Massaging his scalp with your fingertips, you help him relax a bit. “You’re doing really good for me though…” Driven by your praise, he opens his mouth and takes in the tip, immediately checking in with you to see if he’s doing alright, so you encourage him further. “That’s right… all the way, baby…” you whisper, and you watch as more and more of the strap on disappears in his mouth. And then eventually he starts moving his head up and down, like you had done on him not too long ago, and the sight of him sucking you off only serves to make you horny all over again.
“I want you to get yourself off too,” you order, and there’s a bit of drool dripping down the side of his mouth when he reaches for his dick. And now it’s you cursing at the image unfolding in front of you - he’s so pliant, so obedient, and you can’t wait to wreck him a second time tonight. 
“So needy, huh?” you tease him as he’s hard again in no time, and he furrows his brows at you in response. With a ruffle of his hair, you quickly apologize. “Alright, alright, I won’t tease you too much.” You smile, and then you guide his movements by his hair, making him increase the pace at which he moves his head up and down your toy, and at the same time his hand that’s wrapped around his length speeds up too and his eyelids flutter shut. “Doing so well…” you praise him again, and as the toy hits the back of his throat he gags a little, but continues his ministrations nonetheless. “And you look so hot with my cock in your mouth.” He blushes some more, and his movements are getting messier as he bucks his hips into his fist. The sight knocks the breath out of your chest, and you can’t but marvel at the way he’s losing control more and more, and so willingly at your hands, even when you’re not doing anything but giving him directions. 
“You gonna cum just like that?” you ask, and you receive a desperate whine in return. You can tell that he’s focusing hard on keeping up the movements along your strap, but as it’s getting harder and harder for him to concentrate, you somewhat ungently tear him away from the toy, and you earn yourself a beautiful moan just as he makes himself cum all over the floor by your feet. Spit is dripping down his chin, and you wipe it away with your thumb, muttering, “Look what a mess you’ve made of yourself…” You take a step back, and you grant him some time to regain his composure, and when you realize that that’s not going to happen anytime soon, the burning need to ruin him completely finally takes over you.
“Get up,” you say, and with his thighs shaking ever so slightly, he does as told. “To the bed.” You follow suit, grabbing a bottle of lube from your toy drawer on the way, and as you tell him to lay down for you, settling between his legs, you continue, “Look at me. What’s your color?”
“Green…”
“Good.” You run your hands up and down his thighs, nails grazing his skin ever so slightly. Then you spread a generous amount of the lube on your hand, and you check in with him again just in case. “And how do you feel about what I’m about to do?” He hesitates, pupils shaking. “Not sure?” you assume, and he nods. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go slow,” you assure him, and you watch his reaction closely as you bring your hand to his ass. A shaky moan escapes him as your fingers prod at his hole, and his face is beet red as he’s overcome with conflicting feelings. “You like it?” A whine is all you get as an answer, so you say, “Color.”
“G-green…” he responds through gritted teeth, grimacing at the sensation of your fingers stretching him out slowly, working their way in and out of him. 
“So you do like it…” you mutter under your breath, and this time he can’t complain about your teasing remark, so you add. “A little too much, huh? Has anyone ever done this to you?”
“N-no…” he answers, chest rising and sinking as he breathes heavily in between moans. 
“You think you can take my cock if it’s your first time then?” He glances at the toy he’s had in his mouth mere minutes ago, and drunk on all the new sensations coursing through his body, he nods, rather eagerly at that. You smirk at his reaction, and as you add another finger he throws his head back cursing.
“Fuck…”
“So cute…” you comment, and when he whines you give him a slap to his thigh, making him moan some more. “You’re gonna look even cuter once I fill you up.” With your free hand you give his dick a few strokes, and you didn’t expect him to react so strongly to your touch, but you guess he must already be overstimulated from the orgasms he’s had before, because now he’s desperately gripping and tearing at the bedsheets, back arching and hips bucking up as if they were moving by themselves. “Shit, I love seeing so desperate…” you mutter. “Wonder how much worse you’re gonna get in a sec.” You pull out of him, squirting some more lube out of the bottle to spread it on your strap, and you align yourself with him. You don’t give him any warnings as you slowly push up into him, merely monitoring his reactions, and the expression of pure bliss he shows you as you fill him up is enough to make you continue. You reach for his hands, intertwining your fingers as you pin him to the bed, and the second you begin thrusting you can see the last ounce of control that was left in his body slipping away. A blushing, panting, sweating mess, he moans at each of your strokes, the tip of his cock grazing your stomach with everytime you move. You start gently at first, but when it becomes clear he can take you, your thrusts become more powerful, and it sends him right off the edge of sanity. Unintelligible sounds drop from his slightly parted lips one by one, moans so pretty they could make you cum from the sound alone, and with the toy also hitting your clit just right with each time you push up into him, you know that neither of you will last long at this rate. And so you do the one thing every single cell in your body is aching to do, as your senses are drowned in his whines and you’re overwhelmed by the way his nails dig into the back of your hands and how fucking powerful you feel having him pinned down like this, completely ruined - you fuck him hard, chasing both your and his high at the same time. 
He’s the first one to cum, whining uncontrollably as his orgasm hits him, and as he’s beginning to writhe from the overstimulation, tears filling his eyes, you too are pushed over the edge.
Gathering all strength you have left in you, you pull out of him as carefully as you can, and you collapse next to him on the bed, one hand still holding his. The sounds of the both of you panting heavily fill the room, and when you turn your head to see how Jongho is doing, you find nothing but blissful exhaustion on his face.
“You did well…” you whisper eventually, rolling onto your side to comb your fingers through his hair, thumb grazing his lips and cheek. “Shit, now I really wanna keep you here forever…” He lets you hear a weak laugh, and when you have him lay his head on your chest, he immediately goes to hide his face there, wrapping his arms around you tightly. Even now, after all this exertion, you can clearly feel the strength he has, and it makes you even prouder of him for letting go and letting you handle him like this.
“Say…” you speak after pausing for a while, as you unhurriedly play with his locks.
“Mhm?” he replies sleepily.
“I don’t usually do this, but… do you wanna stay the night?” You await his answer anxiously, but as soon as he opens his eyes to look up at you, he nods. Brushing some hair out of his face, you smile. “Then let’s get ourselves a shower and then we can curl up in bed with some snacks if you want?” Furrowing his eyebrows, he groans, going back to burying his face in your chest and you giggle at his reaction. “I know you’re tired…” you whisper. “We can skip the snacks, but a shower and some cuddles is a must!”
“Alright…” he finally responds, and you run your fingertips along his shoulder, tugging at the knots of the harness to begin untying them.
“Alright…” you repeat, and as you lose yourself a little in the sight in front of you once again, you find yourself leaning in to press a feathery light kiss to his forehead.
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