#Forever Blue: Call of the Ocean

[hug-kiss-marry-kill]

[videogamepolls]

Requested by @i-qwerty

[lilacgaby]

is he proposing or... with katsuki :((

is he proposing or does he ask for a second alone with your parents?

is he proposing or did he just pay for your nails and pedicure, like he always does, but ask you to get something 'real pretty this time'?

is he proposing or did his mom randomly call you over to help her with dress fitting, and loved the sleek dress on you so much that she gave it to you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek?

is he proposing or did he just take the week off with no warning? and did he just say that you were flying to dominican republic?

is he proposing or-- oh wait he always bought first class. but did you just see a huge tuft of red hair in the seats behind you? and was that all of your shared friends from your time in U-A in really bad disguises?

is he proposing or did he get you new shoes and earrings to wear that match perfectly with the dress his mom gave to you for your date tonight?

is he proposing or did he take you to an expensive beach restaurant, and told you to go all out?

is he proposing or is he oddly nervous for 'no reason', his hands sweaty when he grabs yours to go for a walk on the beach.

is he proposing or is there a table lit by candles by the ocean shore?

is he proposing or-- oh my god he's proposing.

the ocean was the background as he got on one knee for you. the blue velvet box opened, revealing a gorgeous ring with a huge diamond on it, a huge upgrade from the promise ring he'd gotten you as second years.

your hands went to cover your mouth as he said his piece, dedicated just to you. the tears finally came falling as he said those three fated words, 'will you marry me?'

as you accept, you two fall into an embrace. a quick flash snaps, and it's all your friends from U-A, with mina holding a polaroid photo of this moment for you two to cherish forever. the photo captured the moment of when he slid the ring onto your finger.

you continued celebrating the rest of the night with you friends,

and alongside your thoughtful fiance, katsuki.

kiri ver

[sixeyesonathiel]

holy week’s about to start, but i can’t stop fantasizing about yandere!gojo with a servant!reader who’s been his shadow forever so take this filth ive written on a whim<3 (if you've seen this earlier with a different age difference, no you didn't. did my best to reword/change everything because i changed the age tho kek, also made this more filthy as promised😼)

cw: heavy dubcon, yandere themes, manipulation, gaslighting, 3 year age gap, power imbalance, explicit sexual content (fingering, pussy slapping, nipple play, edging), dacryphilia, degradation/humiliation, corruption/dumbification, forced commitment, pseudo-sibling complex (not incestuous, just deep emotional bonds from shared childhood), 18+ only, minors DNI.

you’re his servant, three years younger, bound to him since your mother’s milk fed you both—her role was his wet nurse, his caretaker, tucking you into the same nursery, her lullabies stitching you to satoru like thread. you were his shadow in the gojo estate’s cold sprawl—a scrawny kid trailing his steps, offering him sticky candies, giggling when he’d lift you to reach the high shelves. he was the six eyes heir, a lonely boy with hair like starlight, locked away from the world. you’d crawl into his bed during storms, whispering stories to chase his fears, not knowing you were his anchor. he’d pat your head, call you his lucky charm, and you’d beam, too young to see the hunger in his eyes. it was innocent then—your adoration, his protection, a bond like siblings but not, woven from shared nights and secrets.

now you’re grown, or trying to be, with dreams of kyoto—books, freedom, a life beyond bowing. you tell him you’re leaving, voice small but brave, thinking he’ll pat your head like old times. satoru’s not that boy anymore. he’s taller, sharper, a god in human skin, his blindfold hiding eyes that could burn worlds. he leans against a pillar, smirking like you’ve told a joke. he asks for three days to “give you a proper goodbye.” you think it’s sweet, a nod to your childhood. you’re so fucking naive. he’s not saying farewell—he’s raging against you daring to take what’s his. you. his everything.

the night before your train, the bathhouse is a fog of steam, your shift damp, clinging to your thighs like a second skin. you’re rinsing your hair, humming, when the air thickens—electric, heavy. satoru’s there, lounging against the cedar wall, blindfold gone, his eyes a crazed blue, pupils dilated but still searing, like twin oceans swallowing the light. his white shirt’s half-open, collarbone sharp, hair damp, sticking to his forehead like he’s been pacing, plotting. his lips curl, boyish but venomous, a predator playing soft.

“you’re really gonna ditch me?” his voice is low, almost pouty, but there’s a razor in it, slicing through the steam. he steps closer, barefoot, silent, and your heart stumbles. his scent hits—clean, like rain and sugar, dizzying.

you try to laugh, to keep it light, like when you’d steal his mochi. “satoru, it’s not like that. i just… i wanna study, see things. you get it, right?” your words falter under his stare, those eyes—blue fire, pupils twitching, crazed but not lost. they pin you, strip you, like you’re glass.

he tilts his head, a silver strand falling over one eye, and his smile tightens, lips thinning. “you don’t sound convinced, pretty thing.” his hand lifts, slow, deliberate, catching your wrist. his fingers burn, too hot, and your pulse races under his thumb, betraying you. “think you can just walk out? after all i’ve done for you?”

“done for me?” you echo, voice catching. the steam’s choking, your shift’s too thin, and he’s too close, towering, his shadow eating yours. you step back, but the wall’s there, cool and slick against your spine.

his grip slides to your elbow, firm, pulling you flush against him. his chest is hard, warm through his shirt, and his breath brushes your cheek—mint, heat, sin. “you were mine from the start,” he murmurs, lips grazing your ear, sending shivers to your core. “all those nights, your stories, your sticky little hands. you think that was nothing?” his free hand slips under your shift, tracing your thigh, slow, teasing, until your breath hitches.

you should push him off. this is satoru—your satoru, who’d carry you when you fell, who’d sneak you sweets—but not like this, not with his fingers climbing, brushing the damp cotton between your legs. “satoru, stop,” you whisper, but it’s weak, trembling, and your thighs part, just a fraction, traitor to your will.

he laughs, soft, cruel, his eyes glinting as his pupils pulse, blue blazing like a storm. “stop? oh, sweetheart, look at you.” his finger presses against your core, light, testing, and you gasp, knees wobbling. “already wet through this flimsy thing. what kind of good girl dreams of leaving then soaks herself for me?”

“i’m not—” you start, but his finger slips past the fabric, grazing your slit, and your words choke into a whimper. he’s watching, always watching—jaw tight, lips parted, a flush creeping up his neck like he’s barely holding on. the boy you loved is there, but twisted, hungry, his beauty sharper, meaner.

“not what?” he taunts, sliding one finger inside you, slow, deliberate, curling just enough to make you clench. “not mine? not desperate?” he steps closer, pinning you with his hips, and his cock’s hard against your thigh, straining through his pants. “you’re a fucking mess already, and i’ve barely started.”

tears prick your eyes, hot, spilling fast, and he groans, low, animal, leaning in to lick a stripe up your cheek. “fuck, you’re gorgeous when you cry,” he breathes, voice fraying, like your tears are his drug. his finger moves, slow, deep, and you’re trembling, heat pooling where he’s stretching you. “makes me wanna break you, pretty thing. wanna see how many tears you’ve got left.”

“satoru, please,” you sob, clutching his shirt, damp cotton twisting under your nails. your body’s screaming—too much, not enough—and he’s everywhere, his breath hot, his touch burning. you’re barely even an adult, barely anything, and he’s unraveling you like it’s his right.

“please what?” his voice drops, mocking, and he pulls back, eyes blazing, pupils wide but still blue, crazed, endless. “please stop? please more?” his thumb finds your clit, circling, and your hips buck, chasing the ache despite the shame clawing your throat. “you’re humping my hand like a needy slut. think kyoto’s got this? think anyone else can make you this dumb already?”

“no,” you gasp, and it’s true, god help you—he’s carved himself into you, every soft moment now a blade. his finger curls deeper, joined by another, stretching you, and you bite your lip, tears streaming as the burn twists into need.

he coos, soft, sickening, his free hand cupping your jaw, thumb brushing your tears. “aw, poor thing, crying so pretty for me.” his voice is honey, but his fingers thrust harder, slick sounds loud in the steam. “you don’t need dreams, sweetheart. you need me, don’t you? always have.” his lips brush yours, a tease, then pull back, leaving you chasing air.

“i just… i wanted—” you try, chasing what’s remaining of your reason, but his thumb grinds your clit, ruthless, and your words fracture into a moan. his smile’s gone, replaced by something darker—jaw clenched, eyes wild, like you’ve hurt him.

“wanted what?” he snaps, yanking his fingers out, and you whine, empty, hips twitching. “wanted to leave? to forget me?” his hand slaps your pussy, sharp, sudden, and you cry out, the sting melting into heat that makes you clench around nothing. “look at this greedy cunt,” he sneers, slapping again, harder, watching you jolt. “making a fucking mess all over me. you disappointed me, you know that?”

“i’m sorry,” you sob, frantic, nails digging into his arms. your tears are rivers now, and he drinks them in, his tongue darting out to taste your cheek again, a low groan rumbling in his chest. his fingers plunge back in, three now, brutal, curling against that spot that makes you see stars.

“sorry’s not enough,” he growls, but his voice cracks, raw, like he’s the one breaking. “you did this to me, you know. all those years, following me, needing me—fuck, you think i wanted to crave you like this?” his thumb’s back on your clit, circling fast, and you’re trembling, so close it’s painful. “you’re mine, pretty thing. say it.”

“i’m yours,” you whimper, voice raw, and his eyes soften, just a flicker, before they harden again, pupils pulsing in that crazed blue sea. he kisses you then, hard, possessive, teeth clashing as he swallows your sobs, his tongue claiming every corner of your mouth like it’s his territory.

“good girl,” he purrs, pulling back, lips wet, swollen. “but you’re still a filthy little thing, aren’t you?” his fingers slow, teasing, keeping you dangling, and you whine, hips grinding against his hand. he slaps your pussy again, twice, three times, each one meaner, and you’re keening, slick dripping down your thighs, pooling on the floor. “won’t you look at this?” he laughs, mocking, holding up his hand, glistening with you. “you’re soaking me, sweetheart. what a dirty fucking mess.”

“satoru, please,” you beg, voice breaking, and he coos again, sickeningly sweet, his free hand sliding to your chest, yanking your shift down to bare your breasts. his eyes darken, pupils twitching, and he leans in, latching onto your nipple, sucking hard, teeth grazing.

“fuck, these are perfect,” he mumbles against your skin, tongue flicking, and you arch, moaning, oversensitive. he pulls back, eyes locked on yours, and his voice drops, filthy, reverent. “your mom fed me, you know—gave me her milk. and now here i am, sucking on her daughter’s tits like a starving man.” he bites down, just enough to sting, and you scream, soft and broken, as he laves over the mark. “kinda poetic, huh? full fucking circle.”

you’re babbling now, incoherent—his name, please, more—lost in the heat, the pain, the way his fingers fuck you relentless, thumb grinding your clit until you’re teetering, body taut. “satoru, i can’t—i’m gonna—”

“not yet,” he snarls, yanking his hand free, and you wail, empty, aching, hips bucking into nothing. your knees give, but he catches you, pinning you to the wall with his body, cock hard and leaking through his pants, pressing against your belly. “you don’t come ‘til i say, you hear me?” his voice is low, fraying, and his eyes—still blue, but crazed, electric—bore into you, daring you to disobey.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” you sob, frantic, hands scrabbling at his chest, his shirt wet with your tears, your slick. his skin’s fever-hot, muscles tense, and his breath’s ragged, hitching like he’s fighting himself.

he leans in, forehead to yours, damp hair sticking to your skin. “you’re not sorry yet, pretty thing.” his voice is soft, dangerous, and his hand’s back, four fingers now, stretching you wide, palm slapping your clit with every thrust. “but you will be. gonna fuck you ‘til you’re too dumb to want anything but me.”

you’re gone, body seizing, babbling nonsense—satoru, please, need you, yours—and he’s murmuring filth, fractured, unhinged. “that’s it, fuck, look at you—gushing like a whore for me. think your silly books can do this? think anyone else can wreck you like this?” his fingers twist, relentless, and your cries echo, too loud, obscene in the cedar haze.

“no one,” you choke, and he rewards you with a kiss, softer this time, but still possessive, tongue tracing your teeth like he owns them. “only you, satoru, please—”

“damn right,” he growls, and his face shifts—jaw tight, eyes blazing, a flush painting his cheeks like he’s burning from the inside. “you’re mine—every fucking breath, every drop of you.” his fingers slow, dragging out the torment, and you’re begging, hips grinding, voice shot. he slaps your pussy one last time, so hard you scream, and you clench, leaking down his arm.

“come for me,” he finally rasps, voice raw, like it’s torn from his soul. “come all over my hand, show me you’re my good fucking girl.” and you do, shattering, gushing, body convulsing as you soak him, slick dripping to the floor. you’re babbling—satoru, yours, love you—words spilling without sense, and he fucks you through it, cooing how perfect you are, how you’re his, lips brushing your tears like they’re gold.

you’re limp, panting, but he’s not done. he kneels, yanking your shift higher, and licks a slow, greedy stripe up your thigh, tasting you. “fuck, you’re sweet,” he groans, eyes meeting yours—still blue, crazed, but softer, sated. “gonna eat you proper later, sweetheart. but not yet.” he stands, his tongue flicks your nipple again, teasing, and you whimper, oversensitive.

then he’s pulling you into his arms, strong, too strong, like he’s scared you’ll vanish. “you’re not leaving,” he says, quiet, final, his breath hot against your hair. “not tomorrow, not ever.”

you don’t fight. you can’t. a week later, a ring glints on your finger, his clan’s crest cold against your skin. he calls you his fiancée, voice dripping pride, and you smile, because he’s satoru—your satoru, who gives you silk, sweets, his endless obsession. you don’t need kyoto, or dreams. he’s burned them all to ash, and you let him, because he’s all you know.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Rewound Infinitely

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Part one: Infinite Rewind

Synopsis: A decade later, Gojo has finally caught up with you. Weddings take a lot of planning.

Word Count: 8.6k

(Warnings: flashbacks to gore, not healthy trauma coping, thats all tho! pretty wholesome compared to last time)

Some things about him had changed within a decade, while others stayed the same. 

Even taller than you last saw him. His hair has been styled, no longer ivory chaos. You can't see a single blemish or mark despite the decade of fighting curses. He's as flawless as the first day you met him. No glasses; the entirety of his blue keeps you still.

You've seen this Satoru before: Suguru's memories, with glassy eyes, ruffled ivory hair, and an empty expression. Seeing such beauty yourself when you're standing right in front of him, it's breathtaking. 

Even the lights of Tokyo couldn't compare to him. 

You say nothing. You can't. Your mouth is dry and pointless. You're not even sure where to even begin. In front of a God, your insecurities pile up all over again. Is he disappointed by you? How could you explain everything that you put him through? Your mouth opens, you think you're about to speak: an apology, a plea, anything-

"—You're late!" 

His hands reach up to squish your cheeks together. It was so unexpected, you squeak. 

And Gojo Satoru is pouting. 

It's a wave. The ocean of anxiety, guilt, and fear crashes into the shore. You feel nothing but indignant rage at the brat who clearly hadn't matured one damn bit. 

"I'm not late!" You hiss back. "If anything, you're the one who's late. I was—"

You're cut off by his laugh, light and happy. 

He isn't offended by your outburst; he's overjoyed about it. His cheeks are dabbed with pink, and his lips are so wide that he's showing his teeth. Your anger wanes when he pulls you into his chest, arms circling around you. You can smell his cologne when he buries his face into your hair. 

"There you are. Finally." He melts into you like butter. "I missed you, Greeny." 

His voice is soft, quiet, and sincere. You can't do anything but hug him back, allowing him to sink.

"I missed you, too." You whisper.

He hums. Apart from the wind, it's quiet. He's clinging onto you as though he's afraid once he lets go, you'll disappear forever. His behavior is justified. You were constantly meddling with his life before whisking away. Just this once, you allow him to keep you within his reach, letting the cat catch the canary. 

"This is sweet 'n all. But we're actually getting late." He mutters. "Also, we gotta do something about your clothes." 

"Hm?" 

One moment, you're atop the Tokyo Skybridge; the next, you're standing in an upscale boutique. 

Satoru skips away from you. Meanwhile, you're frozen, brain scrambling to catch up with what happened. Teleport. He can teleport now.

"Mr. Gojo, sir." A voice calls. An older woman smiles at him. 

He gives her a casual wave before gesturing over to you. "Mind giving this one a dress? It's a black-tie event. We don't have a budget." 

The woman turns to you with a smile. "Of course, sir." 

What?

Dazed, you pliantly follow the woman into the back of the boutique. Her hold on you is gentle as she ushers you through the hall with one hand on either side of your shoulders. When you look back, Satoru is waving with a wide grin. The door shuts behind you. 

"Do you have any preferences?" 

You turn back to the woman. She's still smiling. You can't tell if it's genuine or customer service. Perhaps both. 

Did Satoru not like what you're wearing? When you look down, it makes sense. Your time on the tower wasn't kind to your hair, not to mention your clothes. This morning, you'd just thrown on the first thing you saw. 

This morning. That felt like centuries ago. 

She's still waiting. You give a trepid smile. 

"Anything," you say, "anything as long as it's cheap. I'm not exactly swimming in cash." 

She gives a confused look. "Oh, but Mr. Gojo is paying, isn't he?" 

Was he? You had no idea what was happening, much less what he had just said. She returns to her usual smile. 

"If you have nothing in mind, let's see here..." 

Some time later, your usual clothing was removed and replaced by something satin and long. It was a pretty dress that fell right to your feet. A set of women also flitted in and worked on your hair and face, putting everything back in your face so that you looked more human and less cryptid. 

"What do you think?" She asks, looking at you through that mirror. 

Pretty, you looked pretty. But when you looked closer, no amount of make-up could remove that look in your eyes. 

When you step back out, Satoru is waiting with a tapping foot. 

"Finally!" He exclaims, standing up. He doesn't acknowledge the dress, probably because he's seen himself in better. "Thanks, Hana. Okay, let's go." 

"Go?" You prod. "Go where? You—you still haven't told me what you're even doing—" 

It's no use. He grabs your hand, instantly warping you away from the boutique. 

You're outside. There's people everywhere. In the distance, you can see a crystal glass dome. The sun was still in the sky, which was strange because you remembered watching a sunset not too long ago, unless you weren't in Japan anymore. To prove it to yourself, you check your phone location. Yakima, Washington. What the fuck.

Was this some type of torture, him flitting you from continent to continent, all in a ploy to punish you for something? You give him a pleading look. 

"Just tell me what's going on—" 

"Nuh-uh." He grins. "It's a surprise! Besides, you'll figure it out soon enough. Now, I gotta' go. Stay here, be good, and find the panda!" 

And then he's gone.

You always knew he was insane, but this is ridiculous, even for him. To leave you in the middle of nowhere, that asshole.  

There is no one you recognize in the crowd, but they are all walking towards the dome, so you meekly follow. What did he say? Find the panda? It had to be a metaphor of some kind, or perhaps there was a panda statue you needed to wait under. 

And then you see a panda on two legs walking and talking with a group of teenagers.

Seriously, what else did you expect? 

Feeling like you've just aged five years, you approach the group. Including the animal, there's five. They all look like 14-16 years old. You feel like you're in high school all over again when they glance over at you. The girl looks particularly unimpressed. 

"Hi." You look at the panda. Maybe it's a really good costume because no one else looks shocked. "Satoru said I should find you...?" 

One of them seems to get the code. The one with black hair and puppy eyes perks up. 

"Ah! Are you 'Greeny'?" Did he tell everyone about that nickname? Didn't you tell him it was supposed to be a secret? Though, it doesn't really matter anymore. 

"It's not my actual name." You say before introducing yourself. 

He gives a nod. "Okkutso Yuta." He bows. What a polite kid. "This is my friend, Inumaki Toge." 

The kid with half his face under his scarf gives a wave. You smile. 

"Just Maki." The girl steps in before she gives you a once-over. "I like your dress." 

"Oh, thank you!" You say happily, "I love yours as well!" 

She looks away, but you have a feeling she has a hard time taking compliments. 

"I'm Panda." The panda fucking says, and no, it isn't a costume, but you're too tired to ask at this point. "Nice to finally meet you." 

When the final kid says nothing, Panda reaches over and wraps a furry hand around his shoulder. 

"And this is Fushiguro Megumi! He's shy." Panda says cheerily. The boy flusters under his weight. 

"Get off." Fushiguro gripes. 

"Don't mind him." Maki rolls her eyes. "He's just throwing a tantrum because his sister couldn't make it, and he's gonna have to socialize with people instead of hiding behind her." 

Fushiguro glares, but he doesn't respond to that. He just gives you a nod, and you decide these are good kids. At the very least, they're all way better than that brat Satoru. 

"So, why are we waiting out here?" You ask, peering around. 

"The doors haven't opened, yet," Okkutso kindly relays, "we're just waiting out here until everything is set up." 

"If they're taking this long, then they should at least ask for help." Maki crosses her arms. "We've been waiting out here for at least thirty minutes." 

"At least there's food." Panda tries to assuage. 

"Salmon," says Inumaki. 

"They're serving salmon out here?" You give him an incredulous look and he waves his arms around. 

"Bonito flakes." Inumaki says. Okkutso tries to come to his rescue. 

"Inumaki can't speak anything but food items because of his curse-" Maki quickly yanks him down by his collar frantically. Fushiguro is whispering something in his ear. You watch them go back and forth before it clicks. 

"Does it have something to do with his technique?" You ask, curiously. 

They stop squabbling. 

"Oh, our bad. Sorry 'bout that." Panda gives a sheepish grin. "We didn't think you'd know about jujutsu sorcery 'cause...well. Your cursed energy is really low." 

"Super low." Maki agrees. 

"Salmon." 

"Even lower than Maki's." That earns Panda a punch from her. 

"Thank you," you dryly say, before you turn back to the building. 

"What's going on in that place anyway?" 

They all give you an odd look before they look at each other. Did you say something wrong?

"Did Gojo-sensei not tell you anything?" Okkotsu asks. 

You allow yourself to leak some bitterness. "Satoru just dropped me on the sidewalk before teleporting away. He never tells me anything.

"That sounds like him." Panda nods. 

"Idiot," Maki says.

"Such an idiot," Fushiguro says, and now you feel bad for Satoru.

"Our sensei's getting married today." Okkutso supplies. He points at the dome. 

You don't get why you didn't realize it sooner. You knew these kids, at least Okkutso, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki. They all showed up on the very last day Geto Suguru died. Okkutso, in particular, had fought and defeated Suguru. 

These were Gojo Satoru's students. 

You think back to the last time you saw Satoru. He didn't look like a groom, but he's an eccentric guy. You wondered what kind of person would put up with him for the rest of their lives. You pitied them. 

"Oh." You frown. "His wedding? I—I would have at least brought a gift." 

"I don't think he'd mind," Panda said, "besides, you didn't even know!" 

You still felt a bit guilty. 

"We didn't bring anything either," Fushiguro states, and it helps just a tiny bit. 

"When the ceremony begins, you can sit with us," Okkutso tells you, "we're supposed to keep an eye on you, anyway." 

"You're not talking to a dog." Maki grunts. 

"Oh no I—I didn't mean to be offensive!" Okkutso backtracks. "It's just—well, Gojo-sensei's been talking about you for a while, and we want to make sure everything goes smoothly and we were all really excited to meet you so—" 

He keeps rambling like that until Inumaki pats his shoulder. You laugh, amused. 

"I wasn't offended or anything." You tell him before his words sink in. "Wait, Satoru talks about me?" 

"All the time." Maki responds, an edge to her voice. "'Greeny this', 'Greeny that'." 

"We usually tune him out when he gets like that," Panda says, "honestly, we didn't even think you were real until just now." 

"I always thought 'Greeny' was an inside joke Gojo-sensei and Haibara-sensei had," Okkotsu admits. 

Something warm bubbles in your stomach. 

"So," Fushiguro speaks, "how do you know Gojo, anyway?" 

You didn't know the story Gojo told them so you simply keep it vague. 

"I knew him as a kid." 

It's Panda who gets the most excited about this. 

"Really? What was he like as a teenager?" 

"A brat." You instantly respond, and then you think a little more. "But I don't think that ever changed." 

They ask you a couple more questions about Gojo's high school days. You oblige, thinking this as payback for how Satoru dropped you here without saying anything. You don't know how long you spend out there, airing out Gojo's younger days while his students get increasingly giggly. 

Okkotsu is the one who notices the crowd is moving. 

"I think they opened the doors." He smiles. "Let's go, everyone." 

You follow behind Maki, admiring the architecture. It's a grand building. Sparkling crystal glass lets the sunlight bleed in. The decoration was something else entirely. Small white flowers adorn the chandelier, and they cascade down the edges. Ice sculptures of angels greeted the guests. Live music was already playing. Satoru knows how to plan a wedding. 

Maki finds you all seats. You sit next to her. Fushiguro follows you. Okkutso, Inumaki, and Panda take the seats behind you. While you wait for the guests to settle down, you pass your time, waiting for the students to bicker with one another. From your assumption, it looked as though Maki, Panda, and occasionally Inumaki butted heads with each other. Okkutso often served as the timid referee, trying to get everyone to calm down, which almost always made things worse. Fushiguro just elected to ignore everything. 

"Are they always like this?" You lean over to whisper to him. Fushiguro gives a tired nod. 

"Every. Single. Day." He's saying this from experience, but at least you get a show. 

Everyone settles down eventually. The kids grow quiet when the music starts to swell. The indoor lights dim. It's starting. 

You've never been to a wedding this grand before. There was a live orchestra. Women and men were dressed in baby blue, gently strumming away their cellos, violins, and violas. 

It's how you miss Satoru's entrance. He's already standing on the altar by the time you look back. He's changed into something more formal. The suit and green tie fit him. A perfectly put-together beauty. As though he can sense your stare, he catches your eye and winks. 

But why was he already up there? Shouldn't he be—

"Sensei's coming!" Okkotsu whisper-yells. Inumaki hushes him.

Everyone turns to face the door. You do, too. 

Your heart stops when you see him. 

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool. 

You don't think you're breathing when you watch him walk down the aisle. The music is low, barely loud enough to hide the click of his heels. He takes his rightful place beside Satoru, his best man. Satoru gives him a nudge, and Suguru shakes his head fondly. 

Everyone turns to see Shoko's entrance. You should too, but you keep staring at him. How much he's changed since high school. How much he's changed since he waltzed onstage wearing a priest's outfit, filled with nothing but empty hatred for those he viewed as weak. 

But he's not wearing that twisted monk costume. His eyes aren't dull and dead and bitter. There's no sickly faux smile on his lips.

Today, Suguru looks like the happiest man on Earth. 

His eyes are wide and eager and sparkling purple beauties. He's 27, but he looks younger. The lines of exhaustion and heartbreak aren't so prominent. And you—and you—

You just sit there, watching as Shoko walks up to the altar, watching as they stand as bride and groom. His daughters, adorned in pretty blue dresses, stand right behind him, smiling so hard you're sure it hurts. The priest speaks. They say their vows. You can't hear a single word. It's like you're behind a glass wall, and you can see him, but you can't feel him. 

 When they kiss, everything comes back. The crowd celebrates. Satoru ruffles Himeno's hair. Nanako smiles wider. Behind you, Inumaki and Panda sniffles. Okkotsu hands them a tissue. 

"It’s pretty." Maki comments. Fushiguro gives a hum of agreement. 

ⴵ

Satoru finds you and the kids when you're waiting for the reception to start. 

He appears behind you with a cheery, "And how are my lovely students holding up?" You almost spill your drink in shock.

"Sensei!" Okkotsu chirps. "Where's Geto-sensei and Ieiri-sensei?" 

"Shoko's around; Suguru's taking a break," Gojo answers with a grin. "If you don't mind me, I'll be stealing this one for a sec." 

He doesn't wait for an answer, steering you away by your shoulders. You look behind you. Panda waves. Fushiguro just looks even more upset. You wave back at them regardless. 

"I can't believe you put your students out on babysitting duty." You tell him. "And what's with this wedding? There's no alcohol anywhere." To make your point, you take another sip of your apple juice. 

"We have kids here. Kinda' have to make it alcohol-free," Satoru says. 

"The bartender could ID them." You suggest. 

"You think teens who fight curses daily wouldn't figure out how to get around that?" He grins. You frown at his frustratingly good response. 

“What’d you think of them?”

“Hm?”

“The kids.” He urges. “What’d you think?”

Your brows scrunch. You have no idea what he means by that. Eventually, you take a breath.

“I like how...close they are.” You eventually say. “The bond they share. They care. I think each one of them will be good sorcerers.”

He’s silent, and you think you might have misunderstood his question.

“I learned that from you,” Satoru says, “keeping them together, making sure they can grow, get stronger, together. You were always so insistent on that, back then. I’m glad you were. It was one of the best things about you.”

You stare at him. Really stare. You’ve never heard him sound so genuine, so sincere before. You look into his crystal-blue eyes, wide and earnest. Part of you wants to take a picture, so you could keep it forever.

Eventually, Gojo successfully drags you to a less crowded area of the party. He looks around. 

"Hm, he should be around here somewhere...?" Satoru hums to himself. 

"Who?" You ask. That question answers itself. 

Haibara Yu is waiting a little ways ahead. By now, the sun was starting to set. His brown hair turned gold. Gojo eagerly hurries you forward as he calls out to him. You stumble, still lost at what you're seeing. 

"Guess who I brought?" Gojo sweetly sings, Yu-Haibara, he hasn't let you call him Yu yet-tilts his head.

He smiles, confused. "Oh? Hello!" He says cheerily. "Who's this?" He asks to Gojo. 

"Guess," Gojo says. 

Haibara stares at you, and you decide to give him a hint. 

"Brocolli head?" 

He gapes. It's almost the same reaction he had last time. Last time, when you had to convince him to kill you so you could go back in time to save Satoru.  

"No way." He gasps. "Greeny?"

 He doesn't remember. He wouldn't, why would he? Still, it's nice to see the innocence on his face, rather than the pain you saw last time. Right before he snapped your neck. 

You think he was crying the last time you two saw each other. 

In this timeline, Haibara is hugging you so tightly you think your head's about to explode. 

"It's really you?" Haibara says, but his bear hug muffles his words. "“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again even though Satoru said we'd see you again one day, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

"Haibara." You plead. "You're suffocating me." 

"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry." He lets you go, and your lungs inflate again. "I—I'm just so happy! And—and you're a girl!" He says it like it's the most surprising thing about this whole revelation. Maybe it is. 

Satoru is always needy for attention and whines as always. 

"Wait, you two came up with a code word?" He complains. "That's not fair. We never did that." 

"I mean, it was Haibara's idea." You point out. "You should be smarter next time." 

That makes him frown even more. You laugh. 

"Yu." Haibara suddenly says. 

You turn to him. 

"My friends call me Yu." 

It's nice to know that no matter what timeline you're in, Yu will always remain stagnant. 

"Okay, lover boy," Gojo says with a not-so playful bite, "keep your eye on this one for me, okay? Gotta' go do more best man shit." 

Satoru's gone once again. You look at Yu. 

"He's been running around since I got here." You tell him. "Does that man ever rest?" 

"Nope." Haibara grins, before taking your arm. "Follow me; you should meet a couple of people." 

He leads you through the crowd. You spot the teens moping about out of the corner of your eye. Panda and Inumaki seem to be in a push-up competition. Maki is egging them on. You wisely decide not to disturb them.

Yu drops your hand to wave to someone. There's no need for any kind of introduction for these people. 

Riko and Misato Kuroi smile at you first. Miss Kuroi's aged beautifully since you last saw her. Wispy silver hair knitted seamlessly into brown strands. She never got that chance to grow gray hairs last time. You're staring so much it might be rude. 

"Yu?" Riko asks and you think you're about to break because they know each other. "Who's this?" 

"Uh, this-" Haibara chokes before looking at your awkwardly. Right, he doesn't know your actual name. 

Come to think of it, Satoru doesn't know either. He never bothered to ask too. Probably on purpose. Ass. 

You smile and politely introduce yourself. It takes everything within you not to scream and hug them both because in this timeline, they don't know you. They never did. 

But you can change that now. 

"Hello!" Riko beams. "I'm Kuroi Riko, but just Riko is fine! And this is my mom: Kuroi Misato." 

She says that so plainly, like that had always been her name, like Miss Kuroi had always been her mother. You wonder how long it took for those two realities to become her norm. Or maybe it hardly took time at all. 

"It's wonderful to meet you." Miss Kuroi states before she tilts her head. "May I ask how you know the couple?" 

Haibara jumps in for you. "Um—actually, this is Satoru's date!" He fumbles. 

You do a double-take. No, you technically weren't Satoru's date. But you technically entered the wedding with him. And he was the one who 'invited' you. Fuck, you were the brat's date. Damn it. 

"Ah." Nanami cuts in for the first time. "So, you're the one Gojo won't shut up about." 

His accusation sounds like Maki's, but less harsh. You wonder if he has a favorite student. 

Nanami looks the most different from his high school counterpart. A new haircut, less slouchy, more tall and refined. He blinks at you, slow and calculating. 

Sheepishly, you laugh. "Yeah...that's me....sorry." 

"Don't be rude, Kento." 

Ieiri arrives with a soft smile and painted features. She's changed out of her glowing gown, sticking to something small yet perfectly elegant: a short white dress that curls ever so slightly at the ends. Riko's the first to hug her, ecstatic. Ieiri hugs her back, too, because they've become friends in this timeline. The circles under her eyes are less prominent. Her smile looks more real. This isn't the timeline where she's had to bury her friend; it's the timeline she's allowed to marry him. 

"Congratulations," you say politely once everyone is done cooing over her. She smiles at you, the way a stranger would. 

Then, her head tilts. 

"Sorry," she hesitates, "do we know each other? You...feel familiar somehow." 

Ieiri was the first person you met when you activated your technique and returned to the past for the first time. She was the one who calmed you down, kept you grounded. In a way, you owed a lot to her. 

Looking at her, you can see why Suguru kept her cigarettes in his pocket. 

You shrug. "I must have one of those faces." 

The attention turns back to her, her beautiful dress, pure and white and beautiful. You feel Haibara stare at you. You shake your head at him. It wasn't the time. Maybe it never will be. 

"This really is a beautiful wedding," Mistato says when the conversation reaches a pleasant lull, "I can't imagine how much it cost." 

She shrugged. 

"Probably a fortune, but I let Satoru deal with the numbers." 

Misato looks confused, and Ieiri laughs. 

"He paid for everything." She gestures to the venue. "Suguru and I didn't have to fork over a single cent. It's the least he could do for being a pain in the ass for 12 years." 

Damn, you knew he was rich, but you didn't know he was rich rich. Maybe you should consider being nicer to him. If you ask politely, perhaps you could get him to pay off your car loans. 

"I'll get him to pay for my wedding too." Riko proudly says. 

"He'd probably do it, too." Ieiri nodded along. "He offered, just like that. The only thing he was hellbent on was the date." 

"The date?" You echo. Ieiri shrugs, messing with her laced sleeves. 

"Said it absolutely needed to be on December 24th. Something about spirituality. I never listened to that guy's rants." 

It comes to you immediately, but you're pushing it away. No way. Satoru wouldn't. There isn't a chance in Hell he would have convinced his friends to have the biggest day of their lives on the same day you were supposed to meet him. 

No, of course, he would do that. Ass. 

"So, how do you know Satoru?" Riko asks you. When she realized how rude it sounded, she backtracked. "I—I didn't mean anything by it! It's just...the guy only knows five people. When he spoke about bringing someone along, I thought he was joking." 

"Same here," Nanami says. Haibara stifles a laugh, and you realize all of Satoru's friends think he's a loser. 

Friends. Back then, he only had one of those. 

"Um." You toss Haibara look. He shrugs. "We met a few years ago! But we just recently reconnected." That's close enough to the truth. Good enough. 

You remember your blunder. You sympathetically look at Shoko. 

"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to bring a gift," you say, "I was blindsided. Satoru barely gave me enough time to get ready." 

You laugh, and you're hoping they laugh it off too. They don't, instead Shoko, Nanami, Riko, and Misato look at you. Then, they look at each other. 

Nanami speaks first. He clears his throat.

"Did Satoru....abduct you?" 

"What?" 

"That sounds like him." Misato sighs, more exasperated than anything else.

Riko nods along with her. "We tried to teach him. Where did we go wrong?" she laments. 

Haibara and Shoko laugh as you desperately try to defend your not-date date because he didn't actually kidnap you, but he did bring you here against your will and started dragging you along like some toy, but it's the context about that that matters. You wished they could've had a bit more faith in him. Poor Satoru. 

It ends eventually. Ieiri excuses herself. Riko and Misato go too. You stay with Yu and Nanami, watching as they get into increasingly petty arguments. It’s hilarious how quickly Yu is able to bring the usually staunch and serious Nanami down to his level.

Sometime later, you find yourself roaming the balcony. The party roars on indoors, laughing, talking, cheering. It was chilly outside, you should go back in within a few minutes. You just needed a break from the action.

The sun had already gone down, by then. You were somewhere out in the country. The buildings sparsely dotted the horizon. There were no artificial lights. It meant the stars could shine as brightly as they wanted to, with no one to stop them.

You hadn’t seen Satoru in a while. You had no idea where he’d run off to. It didn’t matter; you knew he’d eventually pop out of a box to harass you again.

But now that you had space for yourself, you needed to think.

You rest your hands over the rail, looking up at the stars. There were so many out tonight.

You fixed the future. You changed everything. Does that mean you still needed to tell Satoru about the past timeline?

You promised him answers the next time you two met. You promised him an explanation. He waited ten years for that. You pinch at the fabric of the dress.

This future that you carefully built, crafted with your own hands. It’s delicate, a glass castle.

It’s justice, but did that make it right?

“Want one?”

The voice makes you jump.

He stares at you, leaning against the rail. Purple eyes, mirroring the starry sky.

You knew these eyes, for a while, they used to be yours.

You stare at him. Then, you stare at the cigarette in his inviting fingers.

Your fingers twitch.

“No—no, I’m fine.” You smile. “Actually, I’m trying to quit.”

“Ah.” Suguru says, lighting it up before bringing it to his lips. “Shouldn’t tempt you, then. Pardon, what’s your name?”

You can hear your heartbeat. It’s loud, right in your ear. You wonder if he can hear it too. Are his curses around? Can they smell it? Your blood? Are they still as ravenous as the last time, eager to tear and fester and eat—

“It’s Greeny,” you say, “you can call me Greeny. ”

He hums in approval.

“Geto Suguru,” he says, “though I’m pretty sure you already know that.” You both share a huff of laughter.

“My fiancé quit a few years ago.” Suguru starts, mentioning the cherry-red cigarette. “Thought I’d follow in her footsteps, but here I am.” He shrugs before he winces.

“Wife, sorry.” He corrects. “I still can’t believe it.”

The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more.

You smile at his tone. He sounded like that 12 years ago, when he was still just a kid. Full of soft wonder.

“I’m guessing you’ve been planning this for a long time?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Shoko did most of the work. This is all thanks to her, really. Unfortunately, I was too busy managing the school.”

“I heard you were a principal?” You prod.

Suguru nods, “Our current one recently retired. I’m trying to follow in his footsteps.”

You think of Principal Yaga, the one with sunglasses and a stern expression. He looks a lot like Nanami in some areas. But he acts more like Suguru than anyone you ever knew.

And you knew Suguru; you knew him as well as yourself.

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru. 

“I can tell you’re already making him proud,” you say, “I met your students. They’re good kids.”

He smiles, soft, gentle. Those used to be your smiles.

“They are, aren’t they?” He repeats back, “some of them had a rough beginning, but it all worked out somehow.” He hums. “I’m glad.”

His daughters, the ones standing beside him as he kissed his wife, wide eyes and even wider grins. They didn’t have the darkness in their faces. The bitterness. Like they did in the last timeline.

You were glad, too.

This death is a lot more painful than the others. 

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die. 

You forgive Suguru.

“It sounds like you’ve had personal experience with that sort of thing.” When he looks at you, you quickly say. “Your eyes. I—I can see it. I’ve always been good at that sort of thing.” You knew Suguru. His eyes matched yours.

He doesn’t look offended. Suguru takes a minute, reaching up to his black locks. He removes the elastic, pretty black hair falls down his shoulders He’s grown it out since high school. It reaches his waist.

He eases himself back onto the rail, looking up at the stars. You follow.

“Yeah, I do,” he’s saying, “I think I know what it’s like being them at that age. Alone, isolated, slipping down a rock. Drowning, but no one can see it.” Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised.

“When I was younger...it was really hard. Some days, I was so full of hate and anger. The pain was a lot. Sometimes, I had this despicable idea that it was someone else’s fault I was like this. Someone innocent.” He laughs, bitter.

“And, on those days, I would often feel something.”

You look at him. Suguru doesn’t stare back, eyes lost in the stars.

“Sometimes, it’d be a voice. Other times a small nudge on my shoulders, pushing me in the right direction. Once, it was a hug, keeping me from doing something that would’ve changed my life forever. And it would be just a bit more bearable, like I wasn’t so alone.”

You can feel your heart in your throat. Your fingers grip the railing.

“What did you think it was?” You expect hate, disgust. You want to give yourself a reason.

You forgive Suguru.

He takes a moment, coming back from heaven. His eyes find yours.

“I’m not sure.” He admits. “I’m not religious, but I always liked to think of it as—”

An angel. A hand of God. A higher power. It doesn’t matter what Suguru said, you knew what he meant.

A part of you always wondered why Suguru would return to Jujutsu society, when he wanted nothing more than to run from it. You expected him to retire. Instead, he took the reins of the beast, wrangling it down. Now, you get why.

“That’s why you’re a teacher now,” you say, “so you could be the same thing for your students.”

He nods, and you think of Maki. You think of Okkutso. You think of Panda. You think of Fushiguro. You think of Inumaki. Suguru must have been there for Maki, even when her own family wasn’t. Suguru must have helped Okkutso control his technique, being the only one who could. Suguru, must have made these kids better than they ever possibly could’ve been. Fighting for them instead of against them.

“Sorry.” He blinks. “I—I didn’t mean to get so sentimental. It’s been years since I thought about my own highschool years.” He laughs, voice full.

“You’re just...really nice to talk to.” He hums. “I don’t think I can explain it but it’s...familiar somehow.”

You look at him. He’s older, but in some ways, he hasn’t really changed. Even now, when you look at him, you see a reflection of yourself.

“I can see why he likes you.”

“Who?” You ask when he brings you back from your thoughts.

“The idiot.” But he says it so affectionately, so lovingly, you can’t help but smile. “I saw him dragging you around earlier. Sorry about that. I would’ve stepped in but...” He trails off, thinking.

“It’s been a while since I saw him like that.”

You hadn’t noticed anything about Satoru. He smiled just as brightly as he did in highschool. Now, you wonder if this was the first time in a while Suguru had seen that side of him: carefree, no longer The Strongest.

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru. 

“Are you and him…” he trails off.

“No.” You laugh. “No, I’m his….childhood friend. We just haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Oh?” He tilts his head. “How long has it been?”

You decide to be honest. “Ten or so years, give or take?”

He whistles.

“No wonder he’s bouncing around like a yipping puppy,” He says, and you can’t help but agree with the analogy.

“In any case.” He leans over the railing. His cigarette is down to its last embers. “I hope you stick around. A friend…I think he needs more of those more than anything.”

You stare at him. Those purple eyes. You can see what Shoko sees. You can see what Satoru saw all those timelines ago. They only ever saw the light, the gentleness, of Geto Suguru.

You are the only person in the world who knows him.

He’s killed people. He’s killed you. No matter how much logic or justification or pain was involved, the blood of the innocent is still sticky. It still drips across the pavement, scarring the sidewalk in red. It still hurts.

When Suguru would kill you, you’d force yourself to forgive him. You needed to die without regrets, because the pain of hatred builds up, you’ve seen it happen firsthand.

But now that you’re free, what Suguru did to you wasn't fair. Just because his innocence was taken away doesn’t give him the right to take the lives of others. It never gives anyone the right to murder. You keep telling yourself that this Suguru and that Suguru were different…but they weren’t. Not really. The look in their eyes matched perfectly.

He’d do it again, in the right conditions.

And yet.

You forgive Suguru.

You can’t judge him. If there is a God, maybe Suguru will have to pay for the crimes he committed all those timelines ago. You can’t save Suguru from that. But to you, the debt is paid.

Besides, you’re too tired to hate him. And you won’t allow yourself to fall into the same cycle he struggled to break free from.

You look into his eyes. Then, at his ring. You smile. 

And that's enough.

“I will,” you say, “I will.”

Then, as two parts of a whole, the two of you stare at the stars for a little while longer.

ⴵ

The reception was nice. A fancy dinner, you can’t remember the last time you ate something. The speeches were beautiful, especially Shoko’s. You swore you saw Nanami shed a tear, but you never said anything about it.

You saw a glimpse of white hair in the crowd before the first dance began. Stunning music. The couple must have practiced for months. Bride and Groom, husband and wife, held hands and looked at each other like they were the only ones in the room.

Megumi stood beside you, watching Ieiri and Geto sway to the music. As though the kid could sense him, Megumi’s serene face sours. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when there’s a tap on your shoulder.

“Cute, huh?” Satoru starts, mentioning at the dance. “It didn’t look this put-together in the beginning. Shoko gave him a ton of bruises,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

You frown. “Shouldn’t you be doing something else than gossiping about your friends?”

“I am! I’m checking up on my son!” And then he turns to Fushiguru. “Megumi!”

“No.” Fushiguro instantly rebukes.

“Don’t mind him.” Satoru chides. “He’s going through an angst phase.” Fushiguro rolls his eyes, but he shifts just a tiny bit.

“Y’know, he was actually supposed to be the flower boy, but he refused. Such a shame, the pictures would’ve been something else.” Gojo sighed and now you’re convinced they aren’t father and son.

“That was never going to happen.” Fushiguro says, and as if he thinks you’re naive enough to believe Satoru, he glances at you. “Never.”

“Of course not.” You crack a smile.

You watch as Ieiri descends into a graceful spin, Geto taking the lead. When he tips her over, your eyes soften.

Gojo leans over; you can feel his breath in your ear.

“Next year.” He whispers. “For us, it’ll definetly be next year.”

You jerk away but he’s already skipping off, having the audacity to call out a cheerful ‘toodles’.

“What did he say?” Fushiguro questions.

That’s what you wanted to know, too, but you were so tired, and the night was so long, and you couldn’t bother to get out your Gojo translator and figure it out.

“The same stuff he always says. Nonsense.” You decide on. Fushiguro takes the answer.

“I don’t understand how he has all that energy.” You mutter, watching Satoru disappear through the crowd.

“I thought he’d get better with age, turns out I was wrong,” Fushiguro says.

“I wanted to ask,” you start, your eyes still on Ieiri and Geto, “how do you know Gojo? Aren’t you still in middle school?”

“Everyone knows Gojo. He’s pretty famous in the jujutsu world.” Fushiguro shrugs. “But personally...he’s my benefactor. Took me and my sister in when my parents left.”

You look at him. And you feel like an idiot.

He’s the spitting image of his father. Sharp cobalt eyes. Black hair. Fushiguro Toji is all over the young man.

Gojo Satoru, the one who killed the sorcerer killer, took care of his enemy’s children.

“What?” Fushiguro asks when you’re smiling

You shake your head. “No, no it’s nothing.”

Satoru told you that you’re the one who taught him about the importance of bonds. But you think he should take some of the credit too.

ⴵ

Eventually, everyone gets on the dancefloor.

It’s a mess. Absolute chaos. Panda and Inumaki are trying and failing to do the waltz. Maki and Okkuttso are lightly swaying to the music. They’ve managed to get Fushiguro up there too. Though, he doesn’t look extremely happy.

The adults are even worse. Apparently, the retired principal Yaga is a pretty good dancer. You think one of them found alcohol, because Haibara looks absolutely wasted. He’s swinging his arms around, almost hitting the other guests. Nanami is trying to get his attention, but the guy wants none of it. When Haibara catches your eye, he wildly waves in clear invitation.

You smile back, but you shake your head. You think he’s about to come up to you, but something else catches his eye, and he’s grinning at a very irrated-looking Iori.

You were sitting on a chair, just people-watching. It was a nice break from everything. To listen to the music, lightly tap your feet, play with the frill of your dress. You weren’t really in the mood to dance.

Besides, you weren’t technically invited here anyway. It’d be rude to just burst on the scene.

“There you are! Been looking all over for you!”

You don’t have to look over to see who it is. Satoru slumps down in a chair next to you.

“Greeny, you gotta’ do something about your cursed energy. It’s so weak. Like finding a needle in a haystack.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Always happy to help.” Satoru beams, and then he glances over at the floor.

“We’re dancing after this song, by the way.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s so cute you think you have a choice, Greeny.”

You frown. “There’s no point in calling me Greeny anymore. Unless you still don’t know my name.”

“I do, but it doesn’t matter,” Satoru says arrogantly. “You’ll always be my Greeny to me.”

You roll your eyes. Even now, he’s a brat. You thought all these years would mellow him down just a tiny bit.

“So,” you start, “are you done with your ‘best man shit’?”

“Yup.” He announces. “Now, I can sit back and enjoy the show.”

You smile, but you can still feel the butterflies in your stomach. He’s been running around so far and it’s given you time. Now, that he’s free, it means you two have to talk.

And you aren’t sure if you truly want to.

You flex your fingers.

“Um, how have you—”

“Stop.” Satoru interrupts. “Let’s not make this awful, Greeny.”

You nod immediately, relaxing. His voice gets softer, after that.

“I’m glad you chose that color,” he says, “I was sorta’ hoping you would.”

You look down at the dress. A deep green. You hadn’t even thought about the color, the boutique lady had basically thrown it at you.

The shade of Satoru’s green tie matches your dress. You can feel your smile again. Typical.

“I’m glad I did too,” you honestly say. And then, you continue to fiddle with your fingers. Ultimately, you decide to just bite the bullet.

“I thought you’d be mad.” You finally say, words jittery and unfocused. “Angry at me for...for what I did.”

He’s silent, and you feared that it was all true. The laughs and the jabs were all a facade.

"I don’t think I was ever mad." He responds, staring into the crowd. "Hurt, yeah. Then, it faded into something that stung everytime I thought about it, and then...something else. And now, I know it's a waste to get mad because you're finally here now. With me." 

His tone pitches upwards as he reaches over to painfully pinch your cheek. 

"'Sides, I know you can't escape me anymore, Greeny," Satoru cheerfully says, "Now, I know your face, your name, and with little effort, I could probably find your address, your social security-" 

"Okay! Okay!" You pull away, rubbing your cheek. Damn, he's scary. "Threat acknowledged." 

"Good!" He straightens himself back up, and you find yourself slumping again.

“I am sorry, though,” you say, “for leaving like that. I...I always wished I could do that a bit differently. You deserved better.”

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head. “Don’t blame yourself for only doing what you could. It eats at you, Greeny. It really does.” He sighs, leaning forward in his chair.

“You deserved better too,” he says back, voice barely above the music, “I always had some regrets about those years. I thought I could’ve done more to help you, back then.”

There it was again: selfishness, the urge to do good to others while retaining that greed. You supposed you taught him that.

You put your face in your hands.

“Even though, you dragged me here against my will, I feel so guilty being here.” You complain, hoping it’ll lighten the mood. “You should apologize to everyone because I crashed the party.”

Satoru scoffs. “What are you talking about? Everyone loves you!” He exclaims. “Look, Yu’s ecstatic. Riko won’t stop gushing about you; you even have Nanami’s approval! I don’t even have that!” You roll your eyes, sinking back in your seat.

“Besides, you needed to come. You needed to see it.”

“See what?” You ask.

“This.” He points to the venue, the ballroom full of glittery whites and sparkles.

“Look around, Greeny. Look at all the people you saved.”

Haibara and Riko are dancing together. Two dead children finally had the chance to grow up. Misato speaks to Nanami. Beautiful gray hair, eyes that aren’t so tired. Shoko sparkling in her dress, and Geto—

The same day he was supposed to die, Suguru was getting married.

“Thank you.” When you look at him, Satoru is staring right at you. His sea eyes give everything and more.

“Thank you for saving all of us.”

Your heart skips, then just stops completely. You can’t cry, you won’t not here, not on such a happy day. But your eyes are stinging. And Satoru is turning blurry.

And then, like Satoru always does, he ruins the moment.

"Did you just fall for me a little?"

His head tilts. That same mischievous, irritating smile lights up on his face.

You relax, laughing out of disbelief. When you speak, your voice is barely scratchy. "You're so full of yourself; it's actually a little cute." 

"You think I'm cute?" 

"Did you hear anything else that I just said?" 

"I heard you think I'm cute,” Satoru responds proudly, and you doubt he’d ever let you hear the end of it.

“And besides! Today is supposed to be a celebration for you too!” He exclaims.

“Oh really?”

“Yes,” Satoru says proudly, “you did it! You became a fully-fledged sorcerer. Considering your low CE, you might pass as grade four, but when I talk to our new principal, I’m sure he’ll make things right. Get ready to join be and him in the big leagues.”

You could read between the lines. Satoru wanted to tell everyone. You think a while ago, you might have agreed, but...

“Can...Can I quit being a sorcerer?” You ask. “I’m tired.”

He takes a second. Some of you wonders if he’ll try to talk you out of this. It’s more beneficial for him if you stay as an asset to the jujutsu world. How many people’s lives will be saved by a technique like yours? To be able to go back in time again and again and again. To die again and again and again.

“Someone once told me that it’s okay to be selfish every once in a while.” Satoru looks at you, eyes like lilies once again. “I won’t fault you for it. I don’t think anyone will.”

When you try to smile, it feels wobbly.

“That person sounds smart.”

“Nah.” He grins. “An idiot, actually. Way too oblivious.”

You laugh, despite the insult.

“Quit,” Satoru says when it’s quiet again, “do whatever you want. But...you can’t run away, okay? I won’t let you.”

It’s barely a touch. His hand reaches for your fingers. You’re the one who grabs it.

“I won’t.” You promise. “I won’t.”

He’s satisfied with that. You can tell when he squeezes your hand back.

You look at him, and you decide you won't tell Satoru what happened in the last timeline.

There's no point. It wouldn't do anything but shatter everything he worked so hard to make. Why would you break the glass when you could just add concrete, make it stronger? You saved everyone. A few white lies here and there just keep this future safe.

And you know this Satoru. If you told him, he'd carry that burden with you like the soldier he was. You don't want him to do that. You don't want him to have the same look you see in your own face. One last sacrifice.

When you come back, Satoru is shifting in his seat, uncrossing his legs.

“So...about that dance?”

“Ugh, fine.” You stand up. “One dance. And if you do anything embarrassing, I’m leaving.”

“Clearly, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” He grins, standing up himself.

He doesn’t release your hand for the rest of the night.

You don’t mind.

(When you disappear again, Maki’s the one who finds you.

By then, it’d been long into the night. Shoko and Suguru were already gone, off to their honeymoon in the Maldives. Riko, Misato, and most of the students were sleeping off the night. Maki, his most diligent student, was helping the remaining adults pack up the venue.

She’s dragging chairs away when she grunts in Satoru’ direction.

“By the way, your date’s sleeping outside.”

Ah, you were on the balcony. No wonder he couldn’t find you. Satoru needed to do something about your cursed energy. What’s the point of having six eyes when he can’t even find the one person who’s evaded him for a decade?

You’ve completely passed out. Slumped over on a chair, head bent at an angle that could not be comfortable. Satoru knows he should feel bad. He dragged you around the entire night like a ragdoll. This was partially his fault.

He can’t really blame himself, not when you were finally here.

It still feels like a dream. Being able to hear your voice, not Suguru’s, not Yu’s. Your touch. Your eyes. Your face. Your laugh. For years, he’s wondered what it sounded like.

Reality beat even his perfect daydreams.

Seeing you up there on the Tokyo Skytree. The wind pushing your hair back and forth. It was breathtaking.

Even the lights of Tokyo, couldn’t compare to you.

He leans down, lips at your ear, voice low because he’s too prideful to let anyone else hear, not even you.

“I know it’s too late, but you looked really pretty tonight.”

You say nothing, but you shift, murmur something in your sleep. It’s all he needs.

He ditches the clean up party, taking you within his arms. He thinks he says something to Yu, but Satoru doesn’t really care if he heard. Right now, he only has one priority.

Tonight, he’ll sleep on the hotel’s pull-out sofa while you snooze in the luxurious queen-sized bed. You’ll probably be mad in the morning, something about how you should’ve taken the couch, but he doesn’t mind your mindless acts of selflessness.

He’s waited a decade. He deserves to keep you.

And he knows you won’t fault him for being selfish one more time.)

[fables-if]

The Night of Ataegina and Betatun

A high fantasy interactive fiction story based on Spanish mythology, folklore, and paganism. Set in modern-day Spain. Most locations and all the characters are fictional, except the type of fae that will be seen during the story.

Summary:

After leaving Imeria during your eighteen birthday to chase your dreams and college education, you return to the little village in Southern Europe that saw you grow up after receiving the horrible news that Caterina, the old woman that took you in after the death of your family and your adoptive grandma (or yaya, as you call her), is terminally ill and has a few months left.

During your return, Imeria is set in motion to host an ancient festival and masquerade. It’s supposed to honor two ancient Iberian deities, one called Ataegina, ruler of the underworld, and the other one Betatun, deity of fertility. Most Imerians don’t believe in the ancient legends but those who do, like Catelina say that it’s the most dangerous night of the year because the frontier between the mortal and the magic realm is so thin anything can happen. 

Returning home under the threat of Caterina dying is already hard enough, but will you be able to adapt back into Imeria and rekindle old friendships or form new ones? Will you uncover the deep and rich history of your home and the old magic it carries? 

We shall discover it all very soon.

Features:

Customizable mc: Gender, pronouns, and physical appearance

Build friendship or romance with four characters.

Learn more about Spain's folklore and pagan traditions. Uncover your family history and your abilities.

Develop your MC's personality as you go

Two characters are gender locked but you can choose the gender identity of the other two

Your choices can't be undone and will have consequences.

Characters:

Caterina: An older woman, well into her 80s who took in the MC after most of her family died. She doesn’t seem to have a family of her own, or at least that’s what Mc believes. Caterina has a sweet disposition, always up for helping anybody. She raised MC with the stories of the folklore of their village, so she will always know how to honor the traditions of Imeria. MC doesn’t remember very well what she did for a living but she used to do fortune and tarot reading for some villagers and they usually came to her for advice and help. 

Ana: She runs The Golden Apothecary, a small store where she sells traditional remedies. Her family has run the Apothecary forever, and it’s considered a family craft. Ana has golden shoulder-length wavy hair, almond ocean-blue eyes, and a button nose. She’s no taller than 167cm, with a voluptuous body and soft features. Ana is in her late 20s to early 30s.

Personality-wise, Ana is soft-spoken, sweet, and very open-minded. She strikes to accept everyone with open arms, as long as they’re good people. Unfortunately, some individuals mistake Ana’s kindness with weakness, which is untrue. Ana is extremely smart, stubborn, and strong-minded, she’s always kind but only to those who deserve it. She can be a lot to reckon with if she deems you a bad person. Ana dreams of seeing the world but there is something tying her to Imeria.

Supernatural or not (spoiler):

Ana is a Xana, a river spirit that helps those she finds worthy by offering them pure water or gold. Some people believe that Xanas interchange human babies with fairy babies. As a river spirit, Ana can’t be apart from her river or she’ll suffer horrible consequences.  She met Caterina when Caterina was a young maiden and bathed in her river. Ana saw the purity of her soul and gifted her magic. Xanas are mythological creatures that originate from Asturias, a northern region of Spain with strong Celtic influences.

Anne, An or Antón: Anne/An/Antón works on their family farm along with some of their siblings. The Zamora’s farm supplies Imeria with its fresh produce. Everyone knows the family since they’re a happy and amicable bunch. Anne/An/Antón is pretty tall, around 185cm, they have wide shoulders, a big frame, tan skin and are chubby. The shape of their face is round, with little freckles, big green eyes, long eyelashes, and a hooked nose. They have short straight brown hair and are a bit hairy.. Their voice is deep and loud, almost booming, exactly like their laugh. Anne/An/Antón is super extroverted, knows everybody in the village, and has a sunny and sweet disposition. They are super strong, from all the physical labor but their secret hobby crocheting, they’re always making little dolls for the children of the village or making clothes. In general, they’re super well-liked and have a golden heart. Anne/An/Antón is the MC's childhood best friend and neighbor. Unfortunately, after leaving Imeria they didn’t keep in touch. Anne/An/Antón is 25 years old. 

Supernatural or not:

Anne/An/Antón is an Ome, a mountain spirit, and a giant made of rock that turns into mountains after living for many centuries. Their whole family is made of Omes graznidos. Omes Graznidos are a type of mythological creature that originates from Aragón, a northeast region of Spain surrounded by mountains.

Diego, Diana, or Dix: Diego/Diana/Dix is new in Imeria, they have been living in the little village for less than a year. Nobody knows where they came from, they remain a bit of a mystery for everyone. They set up a popular lounge called “The Velvet Moon” in the middle of the village, very exclusive and chic which clashes with the rest of the decoration of Imeria. Still, the young Imerians love the place. They’re 31 years old but look slightly older. 

Diego/Diana/Dix is of average height, standing around 174cm, they’re pretty slender, with a petite frame and olive skin. They have an angular face, with sharp features, long shaggy black hair, and clear eyes that almost seem silver-colored. Diego/Diana/Dix keep mostly to themselves and can be seen riding their motorcycle around the village. They have a limp and can be seen using a cane. As mysterious as they are, they’re pretty talkative once you get to know them, and are very protective of those they love. Diego/Diana/Dix seems to be interested in the MC, since they’re always watching them, and seem to have a secret that they don’t want to share with anybody. They are very self-reliant, have learned to survive by themselves and have a hard time trusting others, but once you have earned their trust, they’re loyal to a fault. 

Rumors say they have a criminal past and are mixed with a bad crowd, but not everything seems as it is.  

Supernatural or not (spoilers):

Diego/Diana/Dix takes the form of a giant spectral dog, with long black hair and a permanent limp, which is called dip by Spanish folklore. They’re supposed to be emissaries from the devil and they suck the blood of the livestock at night. However, not all legends tell the entire truth. 

Bingen: Bingen lives in the forests near Imeria, where he has a small cottage and a little bit of land where he has a vegetable patch. Bingen is a well-known journalist for online newspapers. He’s an ecologist, and his coverage is mostly about the natural world and ecologism. 

Bingen barely sets foot in Imeria, he is auto-sufficient but he comes down to the village to visit Ana and her apothecary, and to buy a few things he needs.

Bingen has a square jaw with high cheekbones, sharp green eyes, and long blonde messy hair, usually kept in a braid. He has a sweet face with a straight nose, and round brown eyes that resemble a little lamb. He’s the tallest of the bunch, 1’90cm, very muscled from all the exercise, and has a big frame. He loves hiking and is very in touch with nature. Bingen has a hard time socializing, preferring being around animals and plants since he understands them better. He, as intimidating as he looks, is a sweetheart and really craves human connection. Bingen is not talkative but expresses his feelings and emotions through his actions. He might have a hard time telling you he cares about you but he’ll help you install furniture or will make you soup when you’re sick. He always shows up when you need him to.

Bingen recently led a rescue of a few teens who got lost in the forest and saved them from a wolf attack, since then a lot of the villagers have respected him a lot and brought little sweet treats to his cottage. He's in between 27-33 years old.

He has struck a friendship with Ana, who frequents the forest often.   

Supernatural or not (Spoilers):

Bingen is a Basajaún a creature that inhabits the forests of The Basque Country, Navarra, and some parts of Aragón. Basajaúns are described as giant hairy men who protect the livestock, and warn shepherds of wolfs during the night. Basajaúns are seen as protectors of the forest but also creatures of great strength and kinda dangerous. 

Rami: A green weasel-like creature, with a long and flexible body, similar to a snake, and little tusks. They’re friendly and sweet and help guide the MC during their adventure. Rami’s fur has healing qualities. 

Extra:

This project is made by an absolute amateur in coding so it's going to take a long time. I have been writing since forever so I trust in my ability to create a good and entertaining story and I hope you guys stay for the ride.

The Night of Ataegina and Betatún is also going to be a surprise gift for a dear friend of mine who absolutely loves Interactive fiction and this project (if I get to finish it;_;) might be the way I ask her out since we both harbor strong feelings for each other. So let's hope she doesn't find out about the project before it's time.

[dumbkiri]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒

χα∂єη яισяѕση χ ƒ! мαιяι! яєα∂єя

ρℓσт: second year at basgaith did not start out the way you wanted. xaden left you behind breaking his promise to you. luckily for you, some memories can be erased.

αηgѕт

ησтє: I changed up the timeline of events to fit this prompt. This is a reader insert, but you do have blue eyes. Just wanted to warn ya, but I need you to somewhat resemble Liam/Sloane. And yes, Sgaeyl enjoys your company :) Lenin is the offspring of Sgaeyl/Tairn cuz y not? and you have a cool ass signet...obviously this is made for fun! apologies for typos in names and shiii not proofread!

“I will never leave you behind.” 

That is what he promised you the year before Violet Sorrengail came into his life. Xaden Riorson hadn’t broken a commitment and you never thought he could. He trained you, made you stronger in the year you first joined Basgaith College. Then there were moments you two shared behind closed doors, moments you believed you could only have between each other. 

Then second year came around and you could not believe how fickle his resolution could become. His declaration of loyalty melted in the palm of her hands like she held onto him the entire time. Like she knew him all these years of creating the rebellion and rebuilding his home, your home. It didn’t matter that his life was tied to hers. No, that was an excuse. He got close to her and now people wouldn’t stop talking about how he ditched you for Violet. 

You did your best to laugh about the teasing remarks or smile at the reassurances your friends made. But they hurt more than anything because the truth lies within their words. 

With their pitiful looks, it felt like they told you, ‘Read between the lines, [Name]. He dropped you for silver. Time to move on.’

And to make matters worse? Xaden made your brother act as her bodyguard. You couldn’t even spend time with Liam because he was wrapped up in his duty of being Violet’s friend and protector. You’d hope that you would have time with Liam to catch up between all the letters you sent to him. Yet every time you tried to catch his attention, he would hug you with a grin then say ‘I’m sorry, but I’ll be back. I promise.’ He left you to go follow Violet like a puppy. 

Not only that, your best friend is also training her! You hadn’t had her by your side in what felt like forever. You usually wake up early to spar with Imogen, instead you have to deal with Garrick and his huge body. God, you felt so alone in your stupid room reminding you of their presence. Xaden’s shirts, Liam’s wooden figurine of Lenin and Imogen’s stupid training dummy. 

Everyone that spent time with you is now focused on Violet Sorrengail. 

“You are not alone, Dagger,” Lenin said, his voice washing over you like ocean waves, “You have me and I think this is the time to push further with your signet.” 

He is right, you have better things to focus on. You pushed yourself off your bed and sat yourself in the middle of the room. You closed your eyes and felt yourself leaving your dorm room. Turns out your signet isn’t really cloaking, it’s manipulating matter and energy. Cloaking works because you manipulate the speed of light to slow it down allowing you to force it around your body or other subjects. So when an outsider looks at you or the tested objects, they would have no idea of your presence. 

“You still have no idea how it works, do you?” The dagger on your nightstand vibrated with pure power waiting for you to tap into it. 

“I’m working on the explanation, okay,” You laughed in your old bedroom. Pushing yourself up from the carpeted floor, you walked over to the night stand and picked up the vibrating dagger. You wonder how your friends tap into their bond. How they picture their dragons. 

Lenin called you Dagger the moment he accepted you as his rider. It was a nice sentiment and better than most nicknames others receive. 

“It fits you,” Lenin hummed, “You killed that group with only a dagger and now you are unstoppable in any challenge you face. You give that oaf a run for his money.”

“Lenin, his name is Garrick and he’s a nice guy! An oaf is a crazy way to describe someone you met once!” You barked out, a giggle shaking your body with happiness.The dagger grew warmer in your hold and you gripped it tight. This is when your signet proved to be at its best, when you were happy. And Lenin knew this. 

“Try cloaking yourself then moving some objects around you, one at a time,” Lenin growled in warning, “We do not want you chucking me out the window again.” 

“Hey! That was by accident, besides Liam made another figurine of you! Can you imagine if the one of Sgaeyl was thrown out? Yeesh, you think she’d forget about me too?” 

 You sat back down in your previous spot and allowed yourself to focus on your breathing. Lenin hummed in your head, filling it with memories of your first flight with him. Honestly the best feeling after a storm is being reborn in the evening light with a dragon to call your protector. 

“My mother enjoys our flights out together, it’s a shame Shadow is preoccupied with whatever he does in the dark.” 

“Oh, I know! We can invite your mom to fly with us. We can go early tomorrow that way Xaden doesn’t know! What do you say to that?” 

The way Lenin hummed in satisfaction knew you made him happy with that suggestion. “She would love that, Dagger.” 

……

“Hey, [N.Name], you in here?” 

Imogen knocked twice on your bedroom door then waited for your response. Five beats of silence went by and she looked over her shoulder at the group with a raised eyebrow. 

“Seems like she’s out,” She removed her hand from the door knob and took one step back until Xaden’s gruff voice stopped her. 

“Open the door and we’ll see if she’s actually gone.” 

Imogen rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, “Alright, look. No offense to Violet, but [Name] will not be interested in training her. Especially when we…” The pink haired female moved her hand around lazily, hoping for Xaden and Liam to get the point without having to explain it right in front of Violet. 

“When you guys what?” Violet questioned looking at the three of them, confusion stapled onto her face. 

Xaden shook his head and said, “Doesn’t matter, right now Violet needs her help. Liam is here to convince her and you’re here to open her door.” 

Imogen never liked this idea in the first place. Talk about violating one’s privacy for another’s benefit. She just hoped you would forgive her when they all walked into your room uninvited. Imogen placed her hand on the handle and opened it up while holding her breath. 

She hadn’t seen you in awhile. Only briefly in classes then she had to go training with Violet. Yet her training wasn’t enough, Violet needed to get better with daggers. Xaden had the bright idea of asking the expert, Cloak and Dagger, to teach the silver-haired girl. Damn it, if only Imogen was a better teacher you wouldn’t have to be dealing with a pain like this. 

Watching your crush hover over another girl. 

Even Sgaeyl disapproved of Xaden’s choice. The blue dragon always had a liking for you and she would lean over you if someone got too close in the field. Now the female dragon has to deal with Violet Sorrengail and her weak nature. 

“I’m working on the explanation, okay?” 

Your bubbly laugh hit Imogen in the heart with a pang of guilt. She kind of forgot your laugh, but she couldn’t admit that to you. Imogen slowly walked in and watched you sit in the middle of the room with the dagger you earned from Garrick floating a foot just above your lap. 

Your eyes were closed which allowed her and the rest to walk into your room. Someone closed the door behind her, but Imogen’s eyes were glued onto you. How can you not get any cooler than this? 

The floating dagger spun a few times and you laughed again, “Lenin, his name is Garrick and he’s a nice guy! An oaf is a crazy way to describe someone you met once!” 

Liam coughed out a laugh and everyone turned their heads at him. He shrugged his shoulders and whispered, “I don’t think she can hear us. She explained before that when she taps into the bond with Lenin, a cloak is automatically draped over the both of them. Think of mega-shields.” 

“Hey!” You suddenly shouted making everyone freeze, then you said, “That was by accident, besides Liam made another figurine of you! Can you imagine if the one of Sgaeyl was thrown out? Yeesh, you think she’d forget about me too?” 

Imogen sighed out in relief, letting the breath she was holding out. Then anger flared her system up. Your words sunk in and she looked at Liam and Xaden, “This is exactly what I meant by what we did. We dropped her because of you.” She pointed at Xaden then moving her glare towards Violet, “I get it, you guys have mated dragons, but I don’t know what is going on with [Name]. She’s my best friend and ever since I’ve been stuck on training duty, I haven't known for a while what's going on and the only one who really keeps in contact with her is Garrick and Bodhi.” 

“[Name] knows that isn’t the truth,” Liam’s smile fell and he stepped up to Imogen, “She also knows how important it is to keep Violet alive. If she dies, Xaden dies. Do you know how important that is?” 

Imogen squared Liam up, ready to defend her best friend, you, “I do, but Violet’s survival relies on her now. A friend we all dropped since Violet bonded with Sgaeyl’s mate. How would you react if your friends, who forgot about you, barged into your room uninvited then asked for your help in training that girl? I don’t think you understand that your sister has feelings. Or did you forget about that too?” 

“Oh, I know! We can invite your mom to fly with us. We can go early tomorrow that way Xaden doesn’t know! What do you say to that?” You chirped and the dagger spun faster this time and you disappeared in a blink of an eye. Then small items around your dorm began floating one at a time. First it was Sgaeyl’s figurine on top of a shelf that floated, disappeared, reappeared then placed gently back in its place. Next it was one of Xaden’s shirts then your notebook. 

“Sgaeyl likes [Name]?” Violet piped up with genuine surprise. Yet the tense atmosphere flicked on like a light and the spinning dagger stopped moving. In a second, Violet swore, the dagger’s edge was pointed in her direction and it shot towards her. 

“Violet!” Andarna shouted.

“Silver One, get down!” Tairn ordered. 

Time slowed down and Violet forced herself to drop towards the floor. When she did, time resumed and the dagger embedded itself into the wall behind Violet meanwhile a wall of shadows rose up too late to protect her. 

“What. The. Hell!” You shouted, uncloaking yourself, and glaring at the people in your room. Your blue eyes flashing dangerously as you stood up and briskly walked over to the wall to retrieve your dagger. “I could have killed her! Killed you!” You spat while pulling the dagger out of the wall with ease. 

“What are you guys doing in my room?” You asked, frustrated that everyone is left stupified by what happened. 

“We,” Liam began looking at the hole made in the wall. You really could have ended four lives in one second. A second that Xaden reacted too late to save Violet. Liam helped Violet up and continued on, “We wanted to ask for your help. Violet needs expertise in challenges and she likes using daggers. I suggested that-” 

“Did you suggest or did Xaden tell you?” You asked, putting the dagger into the sheath at your hip. When Liam hesitated to answer you moved your attention to Imogen, “And you, you used your privilege to allow them into my room? I almost killed Violet, Imogen!” 

“[Name],” Imogen called out softly and she put her hand on your arm to calm you down, “I’m sorry, but Liam is right. Violet needs your help and I tried all that I could. You’re more skilled and patient than I am. Also yes, Xaden did tell us to do this.”

You closed your eyes and leveled out your breathing. 

“Lenin, they could have died. Your parents,” You reached out to him and he didn’t hesitate to reach back. 

“It’s okay, Dagger,” Lenin hummed, “Andarna saved Violet, you need not worry.” 

You opened up your eyes and sighed. You couldn’t forgive yourself if Lenin came to hate you. The only reason why you weren’t alone was because he stuck by your side. “I’m not interested in training duties. As you can tell, I’m busy working on my signet. It obviously needs work.” 

You turned your back on them and waved a dismissive hand at them, “You can walk yoruselves out.” They mumbled behind you and then the door closed right after. Yet you still felt his demanding authority. 

“Your signet isn’t cloaking, is it?” 

“Obviously not, Xaden,” You answered back, gathering some of his shirts in your arms. This was the perfect moment to return them since he spared some time to talk to you. For her. He was only here for her, you grimly reminded yourself. 

“I found out at the beginning of this year, you would have known if you asked how I was doing,” You were not at all ready to face him. Knowing that this could be your goodbye to him. He may have let you go, but you wanted to hold onto him a little longer. 

“I can manipulate light and matter,” You explained, keeping your eyes glued to the floor, clutching onto his shirts like a lifeline, “I can cloak multiple items and even Lenin despite his size. Right now, I’m messing around with the space surrounding objects to lift them up. I wanted to learn how to cloak other dragons like Sgaeyl or Deigh or Glane. But you guys are too busy. So I’m focusing on the levitating part of my signet.” 

“That’s incredible,” He said with unfeigned amazement.  

You couldn’t help, but agree with him. The smile on your face bringing back the dazzle in your blue eyes, “Right? I mean if I can cloak multiple dragons at once, imagine how any battle will go. Our enemies won’t know we’re coming and-” 

“I miss this girl,” Sgaeyl interrupted you and Xaden felt her pride rise, “Leninach knows exactly how to choose a strong rider. And I wouldn't mind flying with them again either.”

“Then tell your son to convince her to train Violet,” Xaden said, “You do that then we will fly with them.” 

“I’ll fly with them with or without you,” She growled. 

“-and I want to apologize for almost killing Violet. I didn’t recognize her voice.” You finished and looked into his dark eyes. 

Xaden tilted his head in a slight angle, “Liam did mention that you are blocked out from the world when you channel. But the moment Violet spoke, you threw the dagger her way. Tell me that wasn’t intentional.” 

You rolled your eyes and tossed his shirts at him which he caught effortlessly. “I told you I didn’t recognize her voice. And Liam is half-correct. When I channel, I feel this cold washing over my body like ocean waves. That’s the whole cloaking bit. He calls it mega-shields, leave it to my brother to come up with something corny.” 

You walked over to your bed and sat on the cushion of it. You brushed the ripples on your sheets away and said, “Regular shields block out anyone, friend or foe. Mega-shields block out my friends because when I channel I know I’m safe around them. So when I channel to use the levitating part of my signet, I’m left vulnerable. Which means I’m more perceptive of foes or people I don’t trust. Violet isn’t an enemy, but she certainly isn’t my friend either.” 

“You’d like her,” Xaden cut in, “She’s smart like you and she’s dealing with a group that is targeting her because she’s the general’s daughter and Tairn is her dragon.” He said it because he knew you’d relate to her. During your first year, a group targeted you because you were very close to Xaden and your dragon was the third largest dragon known. Yet unlike you, she didn’t kill the people that went after her. Not yet. 

You vividly remember the year of your Threshing. The way the fog clouded your vision, the rain washed the blood off your clothes. The first time you heard Lenin speak to you with pride. You killed six people with the dagger you earned from Garrick during challenges. But the seventh was saved for Lenin.

“She’s nothing like me,” Your bite was cold with truth, “I killed those that came for me during my Threshing. She let Jack Barlowe run away. I broke my opponents bones and sliced them up with my dagger in challenges, she poisoned them. I can mount my dragon despite his huge size and hold onto him while flying. I don’t need Lenin to hold me down with lesser magic.”

Xaden grabbed the chair at your desk and sat on it. He rested his forearms on his knees and leaned in with heavy shoulders. Yeah, you were right. Violet couldn’t even hold a candle to you, but his convincing needed…convincing. 

Xaden looked into your blue eyes in what felt like forever and his demeanor softened up. He remembered how well you tore down his walls even when you glared at him like that. You always had that effect on him and he missed it. He hadn’t been able to relax ever since Violet bonded with Tairn. Couldn’t walk past you without Sgaeyl snarling at him for his indifference. 

“[Name], please I don’t want to argue with you. I need you to do this. You’re the only one that can help her.”

“Wow, you got him to beg,” Lenin chuffed. 

You rolled your eyes and mulled about the idea of training Violet. Is it possible to train a fragile girl like her? The only thing she’s got going for her is her intelligence. So what? All you had to do was get her to manage her dagger skills as well or even better than you. 

“I’ll give her a week to pick up my technique,” You stood up from the bed and walked over to your door, “If she doesn’t learn at least some of it, she’s a lost cause, got it?” 

“A week,” Xaden agreed and he pushed himself off your chair. Then he stood right in front of you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You reeled back from the action and said, “It was good to see you, Xaden.” 

You opened the door for him and gently pushed him out of your room. He nodded his head silently and let you lead him out. He missed the feeling of your hands on him and missed when you smiled at him. Xaden will admit his thoughts have been clouded by Violet for many reasons. 

I don’t think you understand that your sister has feelings.

Imogen’s shout at Liam from earlier echoed in his head. She was right, [Name] had every right to refuse them. Xaden neglected her feelings for him while also pushing his feelings for her away in the back of his mind. Now that his life was tethered to Violet’s he couldn't afford not to protect her with all he could. 

He expended his friends and family’s time to revolve around Violet. Now he was making you swallow a heavy pill by having you instructing the girl that took him from you. 

“So how did it go?” Liam asked when you closed your door on them, not even saying goodbye to him or Imogen. The action hurt Liam and Imogen, yet they did not try to argue with you. 

Xaden sighed and said, “Violet has one week to learn [Name]’s technique. If she doesn’t catch on to any of it, consider Violet a lost cause. Her words, not mine.” 

“Great,” Violet mumbled, not at all confident in her skill. 

……

When night came, Imogen struggled to fall asleep in her bed. Not even Glane’s words of reassurance helped her to get a wink of sleep. Instead Imogen spent her time glaring holes into her ceiling thinking about today’s events. 

The hurt and anger in your face plagued her mind. 

BAM! BAM!

Two heavy knocks rattled Imogen’s door and she shot up in her bed in alarm. She jumped out of her sheets when she heard Garrick on the other side of the door, voices rushed and drowned out on the other side. 

Imogen jogged over to her door and opened it up to spot Garrick and Bodhi looking at her worriedly. Then Garrick said, “You need to open [Name]’s door again. It’s an emergency.” 

The pink-haired girl followed her friends and asked, “What is going on? Is she okay?” 

Garrick shook his head, “Well if what she’s being accused of is true, then no. She will be in trouble.” 

Imogen looked down the dark hall and spotted Xaden pacing in front of your door with bloodied knuckles and shadows twisting haphazardly around the halls. She needed to know what happened. “Xaden, what is going on?” 

Xaden stopped pacing and pointed at your door, “Open it now.” 

Imogen didn’t hesitate this time, the fury in his voice moved her and she opened her friend’s bedroom door. Inside it was dark and when the mage light flicked on, your bed was empty and made. 

“She’s not here,” Imogen told the boys and she glared at them, “Now can one of you tell me what’s going on? Why the hell am I being woken up at the crack ass of dawn?” 

Xaden, obviously pissed, zoned out and everyone knew he was reaching out to Sgaeyl. 

Bodhi stepped up to speak and said, “Violet was attacked by the unbonded riders. She said that the one who wasn’t caught left the hallway like a shimmer. Like [Name]’s cloaked shimmer.” He looked at Imogen with nervousness like he sensed her anger. 

Imogen couldn’t believe it. She dragged the males into your warded room one by one. Then she closed the door behind her and yelled at them, full on shouting at their stupidity, “You have got to be kidding me! You guys really believe [Name] would let unbonded riders attack Violet? She just agreed to train her! You cannot be this fucking stupid!” 

Then she had to hit the nail on the coffin. Your cloak doesn’t shimmer anymore. It did when you first developed your signet, but when Xaden encouraged you to get rid of that shimmer you achieved that goal in two months. How could the guys forget this? It’s like after all this distance they put between them and you made them forget how your signet works!

“Her cloak doesn’t shimmer, dumbasses!” 

But Xaden was out the door already, his hands clenched up in his frustration. 

“Where are you going?” Garrick called out to him. 

“To the flight field,” Xaden responded, his steps heavy with determination to get your truth. 

……

You stretched your limbs after dismounting Lenin with a smile on your face, looking at the two dragons before you. Your bright blue eyes landed on the blue dragon and you bowed your head, “Thank you Sgaeyl for joining us. I know that after Xaden stopped hanging out with me, we don’t go on our flights anymore.” 

Sgaeyl leaned down and huffed into your face, a sign of acceptance. 

“She says ‘I look forward to early flights with you now’,” Lenin chuffed. 

You reached your hand out to the blue dragon and avoided eye contact with her. You waited for her to boop your palm with her snout and after a few seconds she indulged in your request. The grin on your face washed away the moment you heard Xaden shout at you. 

“Back the hell away from Sgaeyl!” 

In surprise you turned around and watched Xaden in his flight jacket and uniform make his way towards you. Angry didn’t even begin to describe Xaden, he was beyond pissed and it was directed at you. Was he seriously mad that you went out flying with Sgaeyl and Lenin? 

“Lenin, what happened?” You asked your dragon, taking one step backwards into his warm chest. 

“The Silver One was attacked,” Lenin answered. 

He snarled and leaned his neck down, guarding you from Xaden’s line of sight. 

“You are agitating Lenin,” Sgaeyl warned Xaden. 

Xaden stopped a few feet away from the pair of dragons and took a deep breath in. Upsetting a blue dragon is not on his bucket list. Neither was threatening a black dragon’s rider. 

So he started off slowly, “Did you let unbonded riders in Violet’s room?” 

You owlishly blinked behind Lenin’s cover and scoffed. You just came back from flying and he’s asking you about such a thing. An action like this is damaging for your reputation, to your friends and squad. Walking away from Lenin’s protection, you made your way to Xaden to stand in front of him. “You seriously asking me that question? Why would I let unbonded riders into her room? The only way they can bond to Tairn is if she dies, but newsflash Xaden, Tairn and Sgaeyl will die if she does!”

“She said that one got away and that they left with a shimmer, only your cloak shimmers,” He growled out. Then he grabbed you by your shoulders, his fingers digging into your flesh, “Don’t tell me that your jealousy got the best of you that you had to kill Violet. Tell me you aren’t that petty to kill her, us, or me!” 

Did he truly believe that jealousy could be your motive to kill Violet Sorrengail? Hell if it was, you would have done so long ago. But you weren’t that shallow. You ignored Violet like the plague, didn’t bother to get to know her because it physically hurt you. The girl that captured Xaden’s attention in one second undid all the work you did in years to get him to notice you. 

Finally when it was happening, when he called you yours, Violet came in like the storm she was. Uprooting your friends and family. 

“My cloak doesn't shimmer anymore, Xaden,” You said dejectedly, you didn’t have the energy to fight him right now. To explain that your cloak stopped shimmering two months after your signet popped up. “I may be jealous of her, but I’m not the one who broke a promise. I may hate her for stealing my friends and family, but I wouldn’t kill her out of spite. I just told you yesterday that I was willing to put my differences aside and train her. 

“Then why did she describe your cloak?” His hands fell away from your arms, the warmth gone in a breeze. 

You shoved your goggles in your flight jacket and shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, but I was flying out with Sgaeyl and Lenin. They can vouch for me, we’ve been flying out for hours. 

“It’s true, we were gone long before the girl was attacked,” Sgaeyl confirmed. 

“I hope you find the true culprit,” You walked past him and to the direction of the college. Your shoulders are heavy with the realization that he will always choose her over you. Whether it stems from his growing need for her or keeping her alive, it didn’t matter anymore. He broke the promise and left you behind.  

“[Name], where are you going? I’m not done asking questions,” Xaden turned around, but you kept on walking. 

“I’m going to forget this conversation ever happened,” You declared with certainty. And one person can help you with that, you just hope she’s awake. 

……

When you walked into your room, mentally drained from the conversation with Xaden, you were caught off guard by Imogen’s presence. Her right leg bobbed up and down as if she was waiting for you to arrive. This made the trip to her way easier, the walk of shame was going to be very painful if you did walk towards her room. 

“Imogen?” Your soft voice awoke her from her trance and she jumped up from your chair with a sigh of relief. 

“Finally, you’re back,” She jogged over to you and embraced you in a tight hug. Okay, Imogen rarely hugs you and this one felt like she needed it. “I was so worried when everyone started pointing fingers at you for letting unbonded riders into Violet’s room. But I knew it wasn’t you, your cloak doesn’t shimmer anymore.” 

You huffed out with a grimace, “I’m glad one of my friends remembers that it doesn’t. Anyways can I ask you for a favor?” 

“Anything,” Imogen breathed out and pulled back with a smile. 

You nodded your head and said, “Erase my memories. I need to forget that Xaden just accused me of endangering his girlfriend.” Not that they are dating just yet, but it wouldn’t take long for them to develop feelings for one another. 

“But if I do that-” 

“If he wants me to train Violet, I need to forget this morning,” You pleaded with her, grabbing her hand and forcing her palm to touch your cold forehead, “Imogen, please. I cannot look at Violet knowing she accused me of something so horrid then Xaden blaming me for it. Do this for me.” 

“Okay,” Imogen reluctantly agreed. She watched your tears fall down your face and you smiled at her hopefully. 

“Thank you.”  

You wished Imogen could erase more than the conversation. You wanted her to erase all your feelings for Xaden Riorson. 

Forget his hands roaming your body and the kisses he left in his wake. Forget the way he said your name with adoration and the way he stared into your eyes with longing. 

Because you could train Violet with ease if you held no feelings for Xaden. But hey, not everyone can have what they want. This is a lesson for you and hopefully Xaden will finally remember how much you mean to him. 

Soon, it will happen. A feeling so deep in the pit of your stomach made you believe that. 

[buck-star]

Distance isn’t the solution | Bucky Barnes

// Pairing // College!Alpha!Bucky Barnes x College!Virgin!Omega!Fem!Reader

// Summary // Your heat isn’t only causing pain in your stomach, it also causes pain in your chest when you can be so close to your mate but at the same time so far away when he is the fuckboy he always is.

// Wordcount // 9.383 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, A/B/O Dynamics, Bucky being a dick, true mates, losing virginity, choking, kind of dirty talk, praises, nipple play, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), protected p in v, angst, fluff

// Authors Note // Thank you to @bucks-babe for encouraging me as well as for proofreading. This was in my drafts since April because I wasn’t motivated to write the smut but now here we are.

// Events // Hot Bucky Summer | Week Two | “What should I call you?” Master, Alpha, Pet | @buckybarnesevents | Kinky Things Happen Bingo | G2 | A/B/O Dynamics | @kinky-things-happen

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

When he walked into the room like the biggest idiot you were already annoyed because of him. James Buchanan Barnes, everyone immediately loved him and all the omegas were trying to jump in his arms so he could mark them.

But you? A confident but also shy Omega — you were the one in class who didn’t pay attention to his beautiful scent, to his ocean blue eyes and his rough laugh which caused goosebumps when you first heard it. But as much as the omega in you tried to get you closer to the handsome Alpha, you stayed away from him — not wanting to end up like another omega fucked and pushed away from him.

James looks like he is waiting for the omegas to get into their heat to fuck them. It wasn’t just for his pleasure since he helped them to handle the pain of their heat but on the other hand you don’t even know if he just fucked until he comes or until they do too. However, none of the Omegas ever mentioned that James claimed one of them, so he is only looking for a great round of fun to go to the next girl and have a new hole for his dick.

“Hi, pretty girl!” A rough voice says next to you and you roll your eyes. Since you’re using blockers — so you won’t have your heat and your scent isn’t there then as well — no Alpha is talking to you like that, except James.

“What do you want? I’m not in need to have something filling my hole,” you groan and his eyes widen before he smirks even wider. Wouldn’t you smell him, you would believe that he is smirking but his scent slightly changes when he is annoyed or angry — like right now. Before you can say something else he clenches his jaw and forms his hands into fists, slams them next to you on the table and leans down.

“Fucking hate ya attitude. Gonna need to show ya where ya belong to, ‘mega?” He asks, his voice low, chasing your throat to feel suddenly like a desert — dry and even dryer. He lets himself fall down next to you on the chair, your body tenses and you try to move as far as possible away from him. His hand which is still placed on the table is sliding closer to your hand. You’re pulling away, looking with widened eyes at the boy in front of you who can’t stop but laughs. “Ya know you can’t fucking resist me forever. Gonna fuck you at some point.”

“I’m not a toy for you, James,” you hiss, ready to slap him across his face but he leans back in the seat and shakes his head.

He has never had an Omega disobey or tried to resist him. And it annoys him that you do — you! He isn’t dump, he knows you’re mates but he isn’t ready for a relationship like that just yet. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting you, wanting to pound into you and make your eyes roll back while you come all over his cock. James knows that you use blockers so you won’t have your heat, but even through them he can slightly smell you and it makes him go crazy.

“Every girl wants to fuck me, so why don’t ya — ma mate — why do ya say no to me and my best friend?” James asks, looking down to his dick and you groan frustrated.

“Your best friend? Your cock is your best friend? Does he have a name? Maybe Bucky? Can you and your cock leave me alone, I don’t wanna fuck you!” You tell him, turning to face the whiteboard in front of the class.

“If ya wanna know, he doesn’t have a name. But he is pretty. I can show ya if ya want?” James asks, smirking when another frustrated groan leaves your lips.

He isn’t ugly, to be honest he is beautiful, handsome and muscular. With his soft brown hair, his steel blue eyes, the low voice and the perfect smile he is definitely the type of guy you like — but he is a fuckboy. James had probably sex with every girl in your age, probably also with almost everyone at the college.

“I don’t want to see your tiny dick, can you please fuck off and annoy another girl?” You mumble, feeling the Alpha next to you tensing even more. His hand snaps out, grasping your chin and he turns your head around so you have to face him.

“You shouldn’t talk like that with an Alpha! Especially not with your Alpha,” James says, his hand squeezing your jaw and you try to back away but his hold is too strong. You shut your eyes close, slight pain running through your jaw. A soft whimper leaves your lips, causing James to chuckle.

“You’re not my alpha,” you say through gritted teeth, making the boy in front of you even angrier with your behavior. He hates the way you talk back but at the same time he is so fucking turned on. (the cock is distracting)

“You know — just as I do — that we are mates. So shut the fuck up or I will help you after the class to do so!” He says, raising his eyebrows when you scrunch your nose. “Don’t look like that.”

“Can you please fuck off?” Your voice is calm but he can still hear a slight change in it. But it’s nothing he thought he would hear, it’s more like a slight hint of pain in your voice. Your hands find their way to your lower stomach and you press down, trying to get rid of the feeling that builds down there.

James tilts his head slightly, inhaling deeply when the reason you act like that hits him. Your heat is coming and your blocker doesn't work anymore — but you don’t act like you know it. He lets go of your chin, inhaling once more. Your scent causes his dick to grow and with every breath he smells you more and more — already addicted to you scent.

“Fuck—“ you mumble, trying to curl yourself more into a little ball. A low groan from behind you makes you turn toward James and a quiet whimper leaves your lips. Before James can say something, you take your things, getting up to storm out of the room. He looks at you, hearing you excuse yourself before you run out of the class.

The smell of you is surrounding James, causing him to groan before he leans back and inhales deeply. The bulge in his pants grows when he thinks about you, moaning underneath him, squirming and whining while he pounds his dick into your tight cunt.

You run along the floor, your hands holding your stuff tightly pressed against you. Your lower stomach sends waves of pain through you. Tears fall down your cheeks, the pain gets worse and you realize you just went into your heat — you see that especially when the Alphas around you inhale deeply and groan, their eyes are on you while you make your way to your dorm.

When you reach your dorm you throw your stuff to the side, letting yourself fall down on your bed to curl yourself together. The pain in your stomach grows and you whimper slightly, pressing your hands on your stomach to get rid of the pain but it just doesn’t want to work.

You haven’t had your heat in a long time since you used those blockers but now they don’t want to help anymore and you’re thrown in your heat. You know that sex with an Alpha would help — sex with your mate to make the pain in your belly less worse. But asking another Alpha or James to have sex with you? You don’t want to be a toy for them and you’re way too shy to just ask someone to help you with such an intimate thing.

James shifts in his seat, a feeling he never felt before appears in his body — something like pain and guilt. The teacher is just explaining something when he just gets up from the chair, causing it to crash against the table behind him. Every pair of eyes is suddenly on him but he doesn’t mind, he takes his things and walks toward the teacher. Just before he reaches him he turns to the side and walks to the door, leaving the room. With fast and heavy steps he makes his way through the floor.

You’re still curled on your bed when you hear a loud knocking. You only whimper, tears falling down your cheeks and soaking your sheets. When you manage to say a quiet ‘yes?’ the door swings open and you can hear heavy footsteps, then the closing of the door. You inhale deeply, body tensing when you recognise the smell.

“Don't you have classes or can you ask another girl to suck off your cock?” You mumble quietly. James chuckles, slightly annoyed about your attitude but he pushes it away and walks further to you.

“Think ya need some help, ‘mega,” he says, sitting down next to you on the bed. His hand reaching out to stroke over your side, your body still tensed and you tremble slightly when his warm, soft skin touches yours. “Can feel it, so let your Alpha help ya with the heat.”

You shake your head, curling further into the ball you already are. His touch is so soft and warm and you just want to give in. But James is a fuckboy and you’re a virgin and even though he is your mate you don’t want to be just another girl he fucked for him.

His hand slips under the fabric of your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your lower belly and his hands feel so good, that you move a bit closer to the Alpha, his thigh pressing against your ass, while he rubs your lower stomach softly.

“Feelin’ good, doll?” He asks, his voice soft and you nod. Pressing yourself more against him.

Your pussy is throbbing and you crave more of his touches. His scent surrounding you and his warmth against you makes your mind go fuzzy and he knows it. James feels the same way, but he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable to he let you decide if you want him to fuck you or not, even if he would make love to you.

You’re looking so pretty and he wants to see more of you, James wants to hear those whimpers which are leaving your lips because his cock is stroking your walls, hearing your sweet moans while he thrusts into you. “Can I touch you a bit lower?”

Another shake of your head causes him to sigh softly. You turn your head, looking at him with heated cheeks and red eyes. “‘M a virgin. And I’m not beautiful, you will laugh about me,” you say, looking through your lashes.

A low chuckle leaves James lips, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you up until you sit in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. You can feel his growing bulge against your ass, squirming softly in his lap. His hands grabbing your waist tighter, holding you in place while he leans closer and kisses your neck softly.

“You’re beautiful, doll! Let me take care of ya,” he groans, nibbling at your skin. You throw your head slightly back, the feeling of his lips and teeth scratching over your neck makes you cunt leaking even more.

You nod your head, giving in to the pleasurable feelings he is causing. James' hand slides further down to your thighs. He moves his big hands up and down your inner thigh, his lips still touching your neck. When one of his hands reaches your covered pussy you squirm, shifting on his leg and your body tenses once again.

“Still, omega! You can relax, I’m not gonna hurt you, just help you to get through your heat,” he says, fingers circling your clit through the fabric of your pants. You squirm a bit on his lap, feeling his bulge growing in his pants. A soft moan slips past your lips, his fingers still rubbing your clit slowly.

“James, please,” you mumble, throwing your head against his shoulder. He groans, his hands grabbing your waist and he pushes you further down on his covered cock.

“That's not what you're supposed to call me,” he says, kissing your jawline and down to your neck. His lips feel way better than you expected and you lean more against James. “Come on, say it and I will make you feel good. You will never want another dick in your tight pussy.”

His hands make their way to the hem of your shirt, he grasps it, pulling at it until you move a bit away from him and let him take off your shirt. He throws it to the side, his hands find their way back to your sides, snaking over your belly and caressing your skin softly.

James lips are on your neck, he nibbles on your sensitive skin, leaving marks on your neck. You moan softly, his hands sliding up to capture your breasts with his huge hands. “Say it properly, doll.”

“A—Alpha, please,” you whine, rocking your hips slowly against him. His cock pressing painfully against his pants. James unclasps your bra, letting it fall down before his hands make their way back to your breast. His fingers pinching your nipples softly, he twirls them while he listens to your soft moans.

James grins, his lips sliding along your neck. He groans when he inhales deeply, inhaling your beautiful and intoxicating scent. “Good girl.”

You place your hands on top of his, bringing them to your belly but you wait a moment before you place them at the hem of your pants. James gently bites nto your soft skin, causing you to yelp in surprise. He slides one of his hands underneath your pants, still having the thin fabric of your panties between your pussy and his fingers.

James circles your clit through your panties, you buck your hips forward, causing more pressure on your clit. A low moan slips past your lips. He chuckles, loving the way you move against his fingers to ask for more friction. “Wanna feel my fingers in your sweet little pussy, omega?”

You nod lightly. James pulls his hand out of your pants, opening them before he places you properly on the bed and helps you out of them, throwing them somewhere in the room before he gets back in between your legs. Now there is only the thin fabric of your panties that's between your pussy and his fingers.

He crawls between your spread legs, smirking down at you. The Alpha brings his fingers back to your clit, pressing softly against your sensitive button before he pushes the fabric to the side so he can finally slide his fingers through your wet folds until he reaches your entrance. A soft whimper leaves your lips when James pushes a finger against your tight entrance. He then pushes his finger slowly into your tight pussy. Your walls are squeezing his finger already and he makes his cock even harder in anticipation.

“Fuck, look at your, doll. Taking my finger like the good omega you are, huh? So fucking tight, can't wait to fuck you probably, ‘mega,” Bucky growls, his voice lower as usually and his eyes look like the are only dark shades instead of the ocean blue you're used to see when you look at him.

“B-James, please,” you whine, arching your back to push yourself more against him. His expression changes lightly when he notices the name that almost slipped past your lips. What would he give for it — he wants, he needs to hear you calling him by his nickname, maybe not while he fucks you but in every other situation where you’re not calling him Alpha.

With a chuckle he curls his finger inside of you, your arousal making it easy for him to move inside of you. His finger massaging your sweet spot, bringing you faster to the edge than you ever thought would be possible. James feels the change of your soft moans and the way your pussy is sucking him deeper while you squeeze him violently. He pulls his finger out of you, leaving you needy and whining for more.

“Quiet, Omega. You get what you need but don't want you to come just now, doll,” he mumbles, leaning closer to kiss along your collarbone. His one hand is caressing the soft skin of your thigh, while he uses his other hand to keep him steady above you. “I'm gonna take off your panties now, and I want you to let your legs spread apart. You're beautiful and there is nothing to be ashamed of, got it, Omega?”

With a soft nod, you let your head fall backwards into the pillows but James just towers over you without doing anything. Not even your soft whimper or the bucking of your hips causes him to do nothing else but looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Alpha, please. I got it, but please, need you.”

He grins softly, pressing his lips against yours before he sits up and removes his other hand from your thigh. You want to complain when James is already grasping the hem of his shirt to take it off. He reveals his high defined chest muscles and his Pratt abs, smirking even wider when he sees the way your eyes roam over every little inch of his body.

“Y-You look pretty, James,” you mumble, causing him to laugh softly. You have never heard him laugh that sweet, and just the little moment causes you to fall slowly for the Alpha. It’s the moment he wears a mask in front of everyone because that sweet laugh right now was real — not the way he chuckles when he is around his friends or someone else. And maybe it’s something he only reserves for you.

“Not as pretty as you, doll,” he smirks, bringing his hands back to your thighs and moves them to your covered pussy. He then grips the thin fabric of them, ripping them apart. You gasp, your eyes widen and you want to complain but he shakes his head softly. “No complaining, omega. I will buy you new panties.”

You know better than to argue with your Alpha, so you let your head just fall backwards into the pillows again, sighing softly when you feel his soft touch moving slowly to your pussy. James immediately pushes one of his digits into your tight entrance, followed by another. Your walls are tightening around him, making it almost impossible for him to move his fingers inside of you.

“Alpha, you won’t fit,” you whine, already struggling to take his fingers. But luckily your Alpha knows better and when it doesn't fit he will make it fit. He pushes his fingers deeper into you, curling them before he pulls them slowly out of you. James always hits your sweet spot with his digits, earning soft moans and whimpers from you.

“We will make it fit, look how well you take my fingers. Doing so well for me, doll. Taking them like the good, pretty omega you are for your Alpha,” he says, leaning down to press his lips against your clit, then sucking softly.

Your eyes widen, the pleasure immense and you aren't sure if you ever felt something like that before. But you’re almost sure you never felt so good before, his fingers hitting all the right spots inside of you, while he sucks at your clit, turning you into nothing but a whining and moaning mess underneath him.

Pussy clenching and throbbing, while he brings you closer to the edge. You feel the knot in your stomach growing, and before you can say anything to warn James he speeds his fingers inside of you up, his lips never leaving your clit while he enjoys your soft moans, the way your pussy squeezes him and especially the way you press your legs together but get stopped by his broad shoulders.

With a loud moan you come over his fingers, moaning loudly while he never stops moving his fingers, thrusting them in a steady yet fast pace into your tight pussy. James fucks you through your oragsm, his mouth dropping to your entrance, his tongue working into you next to his fingers.

"Alpha, too sensitive,” you whine but still pushing your hips forward to meet his tongue and movements of his fingers. He chuckles against your skin, continuing to eat you out for a moment longer before he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. Then he sits up, his beard slightly glistening because of your arousal, and it makes him only hotter, especially when his tongue darts out to take everything of your cum that's still covering his pink, plump lips.

“Mhm, you taste delicious, could stay between your legs all day so I could have your sweet taste all day, and you moan, you sound so good when you moan for me like that.” With one movement your Alpha gets off the bed, he opens his belt and pushes his pants down, followed by his boxer briefs.

James rock hard cock springs free, his red time leaking with pre-cum and James isn't just long, he is also thick. A vein running along the underside of his thick shaft and you have the urge to slide a finger or your tongue along it. You want to taste him too, want to have all of his cum down your throat but even more you need him deep in your pussy.

“Like what you see, ‘mega?” He asks, walking closer to the bed again, in his hand he has a condom you didn't even realize he had in his pocket. James gets in between your legs again, sitting on his knees, his dick resting against his stomach. Your eyes on his length, while he opens the package of the condom and pulls it out, rolling it down his cock.

James looks at you with an intense stare, smirking when you wiggle lightly underneath him. He spreads your legs further apart, placing himself perfectly in between them before he grasps the base of his length and moves it over your clit and through your folds to your entrance.

You’re moaning loudly, arching your back to get more of him but he slides his cock up to your clit again. He loves the soft, desperate whines you make when he teases you. When you’re all needy and almost cock drunk but he doesn’t give you his dick just yet.

“A—Alpha, please,” you whine, your hands looking for something to ground yourself which ends up being his arm and the bed sheets. You’re so in need of his cock, of him. You don’t mind that you sound like a desperate slut because right now, you only want him to fuck you already, make you feel so good.

“Love when you beg, sounding so sweet and so fucking desperate. Go on, beg for my cock, omega,” James growls, his chest rising and falling and his eyes widened, filled with lust while he looks at you. He wants you to beg for his cock, he needs it — even though it’s hard to resist you he wants to hear your soft whines and whimpers.

“Alpha, please. Please, need you so bad, need to feel you. Your cock, please,” you cry out when he slaps the tip of his cock against your sensitive clit.

With a chuckle he brings his cock to your entrance once again. The leaking tip pressing against your entrance and you suck in a deep breath when he pushes into you. You moan, your pussy is being stretched in a way it never was and you feel some tears falling down your cheeks when he pushes further into you.

Your Alpha looks the whole time into your eyes, his one hand reaching up to wipe the tears away. His lips trailing along your jaw before he reaches your lips and kisses you desperately but still soft. “Shh, it’s fine. I will make you feel so good once I’m inside of you completely.”

He pushes his cock slowly into you, he doesn’t want to hurt you. He would love to take away all the pain but the only thing he can do is fucking you slow and soft so he won’t hurt you more. You nod your head, fingers digging into his soft skin.

“Doin’ so well. Yeah, almost inside, ‘mega. You feel so good, such a good girl,” James praises, earning a soft smile between moans and whines. He eventually pushes completely into you, his balls resting against your ass.

The stretch hurts slightly but his hands stroking your sides and his cock twitching inside of you causing the pain to fade away and turn into pleasure. He kisses down your neck, waiting for you to adjust to his cock and giving him permission to move.

“I—I think you can move, Alpha,” you say quietly, blushing softly. He grins at you and moves his hips back, his thick length sliding almost out of you. When it’s only his tip that’s still inside your pussy he thrust forward once again.

James’ thick, veiny cock is moving in and out of you, causing a feeling in your stomach you never had before — at not as intense as it is now. The alpha groans against your neck, he tries his best to not just grasp your hips and fuck into your like a wild animal.

Your pussy is squeezing him so much, he feels like he is going to come in just a few seconds when your walls grip him as tightly as they do. Your alpha is already addicted to the feeling, loving your sweet sounds and the feelings of your fingers digging into his skin to ground yourself.

“Good girl, take my cock like the good omega you are,” he says, throwing his head back the moment your walls clench around his cock, sucking him deeper into you. “Look at you, being all greedy and desperate for my cock, huh?”

The smirk on his lips is adorable and wouldn’t you feel so embarrassed about the fact that you want him to rail you until the bed breaks you would have smiled back. But your thoughts of him slamming into you, running you wander through your mind and you can’t help but moan when you look at him.

“Please, move. Need you, need it so bad, please, Alpha,” you whine, eyes rolling back when he pulls out of you once again.

You don’t have to ask him twice. James pushes forward with more force this time, earning another moan. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix and your eyes widen. The Alpha feels better than a toy or your fingers could make you feel.

His thrusts speed up, he fucks you with such force that even the bed is starting to move and hits the wall with every movement forward. James’ fingers are interlaced with yours, pressing your hands down next to your head. While your fingers dig into the back of his hand, he digs his fingers into the bedsheets.

Your pussy is literally grappling his cock and holding him inside of you. The base of his cock swells with every thrust, every moan and every whimper. The moment he feels his knot growing more he pounds into you harder.

“Fuck, doing so good. Giving you all my cum, omega. Fuck, fuck—“ he groans, looking deep into your eyes. He doesn’t want to come before you do or at least with you, but he is so close and he can’t hold back anymore.

With a smooth movement he brings his hand down your front, reaching your clit and pressing against it before he smirks and rubs it. It’s all too much for you, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time he pushes into you and his talented fingers rubbing your clit bringing you over the edge.

“Please, come with me. Please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum. Please, Alpha,” you beg, coming all over his cock with a loud moan. Your pussy is squeezing James dick harder than before, holding him in place while he comes into you, his knot holding his cock buried deep inside of you while he still moves his dick as much as possible inside of you.

With a low groan he comes inside of you, his seeds shooting out and into the condom. He pants but smirks at you, admiring your sweaty skin, glistening but still looking so soft.

“Good girl, you were so good for me,” he mumbles, kissing your neck. You just lie there, your fingers running through his soft hair while he kisses your soft skin. When you both come down from your highs he slowly removes his cock to throw the condom away.

Back next to you he lies on the bed and pulls you on top of him, smirking when you squeak in surprise. He chuckles softly and earns a soft giggle from you too.

James' arms are wrapped around you, your head placed on his chest, while you listen to his heartbeat. His fingers draw small circles on your back while you both still calm down from your orgasm and the intense but good sex.

“Feelin’ better, ‘mega?” He asks, looking at you with his perfect steel-blue eyes. The wide smirk on his face and the slight blush on his cheeks causes a tingling in your stomach.

You nod, kissing his chest. Your eyes meet his and you get lost for a moment. James leans closer, his lips capturing yours and you sigh softly into the kiss. And he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning about your taste.

He smirks, leaning back and pulling you closer. Your scent is intoxicating and he just can’t get enough of it. But the feelings and thoughts he has when he is around you scare him — he never wanted to be closer with someone, and even though you’re his mate he is still unsure how to feel about that.

“Have you ever thought about being with an Alpha, being his?” He asks, turning to face you. Your chin is placed on his chest when you look at him, narrowing your eyebrows while you think about it.

Have you ever thought about being close to someone? Being marked, claimed by an omega which would mean you belong with him forever. You nod your head slightly and Bucky's eyes widen. “I’ve thought about being claimed by someone who isn’t my true mate.”

“Do you want it? To me claimed by another Alpha who isn’t your mate?” He asks, his eyes glistening with curiosity when those words slip over his lips.

“I would because you can be a dick. And you don’t want to be with someone more than a night. So I kind of regret that I lost my virginity to you — but you helped me with the pain of my heat so I’m grateful, though,” you say, earning a low growl from the Alpha.

No Omega has ever talked to him like that, calling him a dick. He has one — a huge, pretty cock — but being a dick? He just doesn’t want to be with an Omega just yet, right? This with you was also only because he wouldn’t like you to suffer with your heat but it was one time, wasn’t it?

“Have you ever thought about it? Claiming an Omega?” You ask, curious about his answer. But he only shrugs, smirking at you. You turn your head, getting some rest from the exhausting sex the two of you just had.

Bucky sighs softly, his fingers still sliding over your skin while he thinks about your question. He has never really thought about it, too young to think about claiming an omega. He wants to have fun with whoever he wants to have. But seeing you so peacefully sleeping in his chest, the way you moaned and looked when he fucked you and when you came — when you screamed his name — seeing you every time after school when he goes to his dorm, being cuddled up with his Omega?

The next day Bucky goes back to the way he was before the two of you had sex. A dick and flirting with every Omega he likes. He isn’t even looking at you, only avoiding you.

For a moment you thought he had changed, that the two of you could be more than just classmates but now he shows you again that he is just an Alpha who doesn’t manage to leave his dick in his pants.

You walk into the classroom, Bucky's standing next to the door with an Omega who almost drops on her knees to suck his cock in front of the whole class. “Like being called a slut, huh?”

The girl nods, and looks up at Bucky, earning a low chuckle when he turns around and makes his way to his seat. You’re lowering your head when he passes you, not wanting to see those beautiful blue eyes or those soft, plump and kissable lips of his.

The girl is giggling when she takes a seat next to her friend, talking to her while they both look every now and then at Bucky. You feel a harsh pain flowing through your body and this time it's not your heat. This time it’s to see your Alpha flirting with someone else and acting like he doesn’t even know you, like the two of you haven’t had sex.

“Good! Then we talked about the difference yesterday,” your teacher interrupts your thoughts. You don’t know what they talked about yesterday and your heart is aching so bad that you don’t even want to listen to it now.

You turn your face to the window, looking out, while you try to ignore every noise around you. Actually you would listen to the teacher, would write down some notes but with the heavy feeling in your chest you just want to go into your bed and cry. Cry about Bucky and being nothing but a toy for him. You should have known but he was so cute that there was the tiny thought he could be more than just a dick. Why does your mate has to be such a dick, he could be like other ones and be nicer but he has to fuck every omega he can reach and who is filling to let him fuck them.

“Y/N? You look really distracted today? Are you feeling oke or do you want to go out for a bit?” Your teacher asks but you only shake your head. You suddenly feel every pair of eyes on you and you just want to make yourself as small as possible to escape all those gazes while your cheeks heat up.

A low groan behind you causes everyone to look immediately away from you and back to the teacher who nods with a smile on his lips.

Bucky groans frustrated, not used to feelings like he has right now. Everyone looking at you like you could be their prey makes him go crazy. No one is allowed to look at you like that, right? But why is it bothering him? He doesn’t even feel something for you, he helped you out with your pain caused by your heat and now he can fuck whoever he wants. But there is that part in him — the Alpha — that tries to stop him from hurting you more, the pain in your chest mixed in your scent and he can smell it.

He can smell the changed scent, he feels guilty for hurting you like that. For causing so much pain in your chest but Bucky just can’t be with someone just yet. He wants to go to parties and hook up with whoever crosses his way during the party, he wants that, doesn’t he?

The whole lesson you’re quiet, not even looking at the paper in front of you. Blue eyes piercing in your back and Bucky’s jaw is clenched when he sees a classmate moving closer toward you. His hand rests next to yours and when he talks to you you look at him, smiling softly. Another low groan leaves his lips, how can he dare to get close to you — to Bucky’s omega..

“Want a drink after school?” The Alpha next to you asks and smirks at you. You shake your head, maybe you should just move on with another Alpha or just pay attention to get good marks but since the sex with Bucky you can’t push the feelings away. “Who hurt you, pretty girl?”

“No one, just not in a mood to get a drink,” you grumble, placing your hand on his arm. He nods, placing his hand on yours and you shiver slightly when his soft skin touches yours.

The loud sound of a chair crashing against a table and a fist punching hard on the surface of a table causes you all to turn around. Your eyes widen when you see Bucky standing there, fixing the Alpha who has his hand on yours, narrowing while he inhales deeply.

“Take your hands off of my Omega!” He growls, surrounding his table to get closer to the other Alpha who’s hand is still on yours.

“I’m not your Omega, Barnes,” you hiss, freeing your hand anyway and get up from the chair. Every pair of eyes is on the two of you. Not even the teacher interrupts you, while you step closer to Bucky and lift your hand to poke a finger against his broad chest. “Don't call me that! You haven’t claimed me and you have shown me damn well that you just want one fuck.”

He groans, grasping your hand and pulling you against his chest. You smell his beautiful scent and you just want to lean more into him, but he was hurting you and now he acts like you’re his omega, and no other Alpha could be with you.

“Don’t talk to me like that, ‘mega!” He demands, his grip tightens and you hiss. You try to wiggle out of his grasp but he only tightens it and pulls you even closer.

“You’re a dick, Barnes,” you growl, lifting your other hand to slap him across his face. His eyes widen and he suddenly lets go of you. You immediately turn around and take your stuff, pushing him to the side and walking out of the room.

Everyone is looking at Bucky, his cheek red and he is sure your handprint is visible. He looks at you while you walk out of the room he then gets back to his seat and lets himself fall down. The teacher clears his throat, getting the attention of the students and continues the lesson.

You’re rushing through the hallway, not sure where to go. The feelings inside of you boil, almost ready to burst out. You can still feel Bucky’s hand around your arm, his scent in your nose while you groan quietly.

When you finally find a little corner where no one is immediately seeing you you sit down, pulling your legs closer and wrap your arms around them. Then you place your head on your knees, looking through the floor — at least the part of it you can see.

Tears building in the corner of your eyes, slowly falling down your cheeks and you sob quietly. Why is your mate such a dick? Fucking you, being all sweet and then being such a dick. You can’t even talk to other Alphas because he is jealous but he is flirting with Omegas like he would fuck them immediately.

The rest of the lesson the brown-haired Alpha is staring at the other Alpha. Still annoyed that he dared to touch Bucky’s omega. He really doesn't know what happens with his feelings and his thoughts but he knows that the Alpha in him has to take care of his Omega. And the thought of some other Alpha seeing you whimpering and moaning while they push their dicks into your tight cunt makes him go crazy.

When the lesson ends he immediately pushes his stuff into his bag, throwing it over his shoulder and walks out of the room. He doesn’t walk much before a fist hits his face and his head is thrown to the side while someone is pressing him against the wall behind him. His back aches as well as his cheek and nose when he grasps the shirt of the person in front of him.

“You fucking idiot. Gonna punch you so hard that you can’t even remember your own name,” the Alpha in front of Bucky says. “Think you can play with her, huh? Gonna cut off your cock!”

Bucky’s hands are still fisting the shirt of Brock Rumlow while he tries to turn them both around so the other Alpha is pressed against the wall. “You don’t fucking know anything. She is my Omega so take your hands off of her!”

“And you treat your Omega like that? You’re a pathetic Alpha, Barnes,” Rumlow growls, freeing himself and walking away from Bucky.

The brown haired boy is panting, his eyes slightly widened when reality hits him once again. Rumlow wasn’t wrong, Bucky acts like an idiot but he just can’t handle the feelings he has for you — scared of being a shit Alpha for you, scared of being with someone.

He inhales deeply even though there are so many different smells but he can still smell you — intense and he can say you’re not feeling too good. Since he doesn’t want someone to listen to the two of you, he waits until the next lesson starts before he makes his way to you, knowing that you’re sitting in the corner, hiding yourself.

When you smell him your body tenses and your sobs stop for a moment. Hoping that he just walks past you but when his heavy footsteps stop just around the corner you shift further into the corner. Bucky bends down looking at you with his pretty ocean blue eyes and you whimper when he reaches his hand out to touch you.

“Come out there, ‘mega.” He says, softly but still demanding. You shake your head, ready to bite him when he comes further toward you but he doesn’t. He only groans frustrated, then he stands straight again and walks a few steps forward. “Come out there. NOW! Don’t like to repeat myself, Omega!”

The sudden change in his voice makes you whimper. Bucky sounds not as soft and patient anymore, his tone is rough and demanding. But you really don’t feel like you want to follow his orders, he isn’t you’re Alpha and he hurt you, so why should you be a good Omega for him now — especially when you’re not even his omega.

“Leave me alone, idiot!” You hiss. Your body tenses even more when a lower groan as you have ever heard before is leaving his lips. But you still don’t want to get out of the corner. You want to be alone or— “I would prefer any other Alpha instead of letting you touch me once again!”

“Shut the fuck up and come here! I’m your Alpha and you’re going to listen to me,” he says, trying to calm himself down. He actually just wants to talk nicely to you but your attitude and the knowing he hurt you causes impatient in him. He just wants me to be there for you, take care of you like an Alpha should do that for their Omega.

“Fuck off, Alpha. You’re an fucking idiot and I don’t wanna talk to you!” You almost shout. It’s not true, you want to talk to him, you want him to hold you, to kiss you, to love you — to make you his Omega.

“Doll, please. I’m sorry, can you please come out there. I just wanna talk with you,” he tries again, this time his voice so soft and caring that more tears fall down your cheeks. Why can’t Bucky always be like that? Sweet and lovingly.

“But stay away and we’re not going to talk in the hallway,” you say, grasping your bag and getting out of the corner. Bucky looks at you and a soft smile forms on his lips when he sees you but it immediately fades away when he sees your red eyes and the wet trails down your cheeks.

He just wants to hold you tight, wiping your tears away but he knows when he walks further to you without you allowing him you won’t talk to him. His heart is aching but he tries to push it to the side, waiting for you to walk into the direction you want to go to talk.

You turn around, walking toward the dorms and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy. When you stand in front of the door of your dorm you turn around. “Or do you want to talk in your dorm?”

Bucky shakes his head, he doesn’t mind where you’re going to talk as long as you let him explain why he acted so shitty. With a nod you open the door to your dorm and let him walk into it as well.

“What do you want?” You ask, voice cold and Bucky’s eyes widen slightly. A cold shiver running along his spine when you talk to him like that. You’re letting yourself fall down on your bed, moving to the headboard while he takes a seat on the other side of the bed.

“I love you, and I can’t stand the way those other Alphas look or touch you. That smile, the joy I saw in your eyes yesterday,” he mumbles, looking at his hands while he sighs deeply.

“Shut up and leave those words for one of your other bitches! You used me like a fucking toy,” you say, narrowing your eyebrows. “You can fuck any omega you want to fuck but don’t play with me!”

“I’m not playing with you—“ he tries to say but interrupts himself when you raise your eyebrow and turn your hand into fists, jaw clenching. “Omega! Calm down!”

Even though you don’t want it, the Omega in you immediately reacts to his order and a soft whimper leaves your lips. He hums when you pull your legs up and wrap your arms around them, placing your chin on your knees and looking at Bucky, but avoiding his eyes.

“I would never play with you. But my feelings— I never had those feelings before and it scares me,” he admits, running his fingers through his soft hair. His eyes are looking for yours but you just don’t want to look into his eyes — don’t want to get lost in those beautiful ocean blue eyes.

“James, please. Can you keep all those words for someone you really mean it? I won’t stop you from fucking whoever you want. I will get my shit together and try to find someone who takes care of me during the heat,” you mumble. Tears suddenly build up in the corner of your eyes before they fall down your cheeks. Fuck! Why do you have to cry just yet? When he is there and tries to get closer to you — to play with you again?

Bucky sighs, he moves closer, ignoring that you told him to stay away from you. His hand captures your chin and he moves your head until you have to face him. He is so close, his breath hitting your lips and you want to lean into his touch, you want to feel those pink lips on yours. You want to feel the warmth of him, his sweet touches but you don’t want him to use you as a toy.

“I know you think I played with you but I didn’t. I just never thought I could feel the way I feel for you now. The only thing I did was fucking but then there was you. You had your heat and the Alpha in me — the one that belongs to you — wanted nothing more to comfort you, so I did. I took care of you but then there were suddenly so many feelings, so much I actually always pushed to the side,” he says, inhaling deeply. He didn’t know he could say that much about his feelings and still hasn’t said nothing at all.

“It was nice that you—“ you start to say but he interrupts you with a low groan. One that causes your pussy to clench and your feelings to go even crazier. Bucky smirks, smelling your arousal but as fast as his smirk appears it disappears, it’s not the right moment to just smirk at the person he loves but hurt so much.

“I wasn’t finished yet, ‘mega.” His voice is rough and kind of demanding that you stay quiet until he finishes talking. But at the same time it sounds so soft like he doesn’t want to scare you. “College was for me a good place to still my needs but I love you. I really do and for the first time since college I don’t want to fuck someone. And yes, the omega I talked to earlier wanted me, but even though I can be good in dirty talk with anyone, I wouldn't have fucked her. I just wanted to forget those feelings but I just want to comfort you — comfort my Omega. You belong to me, even though I never showed you before. But please let me do it now.”

Bucky didn’t expect you to shake your head but when you do his eyes suddenly darken and he growls. He tightens his grip around your chin, causing you to whimper quietly. He is so dominant that you just want to give into him but what he doesn’t know you haven’t shook your head because you meant no, you just wanted him to let go of your chin so you could talk properly — without muffled sounds or squeezed cheeks.

When you shove Bucky by his broad chest away you almost moan. His scent is intoxicating and his broad chest, high defined muscles underneath the fabric of his shirts lets the Omega in you show more of itself than you actually want it right now. He looks at you with a confused gaze but lets go of your chin.

“Let me talk before you growl at me, boy!” You say, earning a warning look from him which causes you to swallow harshly. “Sorry, Alpha. If you wanna prove that you can be different show me but that doesn’t mean I will be doing what you tell me! I’m not one of these omegas you fucked and then thanked you.”

“You will thank me for it too,” he says, darkly with a smirk on his face. When you just raise your eyebrow he immediately nods and moves closer toward you. “Sorry, ‘mega.”

Your eyes widen and you blink, unsure if you heard him right. Did he just apologize? James Bucky Barnes apologized by an Omega? His hands slide to your back and he caresses your skin softly but your muscles tensing and Bucky sighs. His blue eyes are piercing in yours and you feel a shiver along your spine when his hand doesn’t stop moving up and down your sides and back.

“Want it to make up to you, show you that you mean more to me than all those other girls,” he says, his hands letting go of you but find their place a moment later on your cheeks. He pulls you closer and just before your lips meet he waits for you to break the distance. His tongue slips across his lips, causing them to glisten slightly. “So shy, ‘mega, aren’t you?”

Bucky’s teasing makes you giggle softly. You didn't want to give in to him just yet but his scent, his touches and the way he looks at you are just too adorable to push him away. “Not shy, James!”

He groans about the name, wanting you to address him properly or at least with his nickname. “Doll,” he warns, raising an eyebrow and causing you to giggle even more. “Don’t tease me just yet.”

“You said you wanna make it up to me, so it’s part of it, James,” you say, lifting one of your hands to poke two of your fingers into his broad chest. He groans frustrated, nodding his head and lowering it just a moment later for you to kiss him. You chuckle, fingers sliding to his neck and you scratch softly over his soft skin, causing him to shiver underneath your touch.

“Can I kiss you now, ‘mega?” He asks, tilting his head slightly to the side. Bucky captures your cheeks with his hands, smiling softly. You suddenly smirk mischievous, a thought just plopped up in your mind and a way he could make things a bit up to you, when he does that.

“Choke me, Alpha,” you mumble, exactly knowing what kind of effect your words have on him. A low growl leaves his lips and he raises an eyebrow at you, then he smirks.

“You think you can demand things, omega?” His voice is low and sounds rougher as usual, causing you to shiver lightly. You nod your head though, the smirk never leaving your lips while your Alpha shakes his head in amusement. One of his hands sliding to your neck, his fingers slowly curling around it and digging softly into your sensitive skin.

“Harder, or are you just a little sub?” You tease, causing him to groan once more. His grip tightens and he pushes you back until you hit the headboard of the bed, swallowing harshly.

“That's what you like? Choking with my hand around your throat, why not choking by my cock in your pretty mouth?” He asks, chuckling softly when you whimper and press your tight together. “Yeah, that's what you like, having your Alphas cock deep down your throat.”

“B—But as much as I love it, I want you to make things up to me first. And we could start with a date,” you say, trying to push the thoughts you have away. Deep down you hope that the two of you end up in bed, he is on top of you, very soon because his cock feels just too good.

“Oke, how about we make a movie night, I bring all the snacks? And maybe I will claim you,” your Alpha says, smirking at you, still only inches away while he waits until you allow him to kiss you. He never lets an Omega decide that much but he has a crush on you for so long and the night with you, the Alpha in him — Bucky needs you, he loves you and he doesn't want to mess things up once again.

You nod, leaning even closer. Bucky's tongue pokes out, wetting his lips before he tilts his head further to the side. His eyes light up and the smile across his lips widens when you nod your head softly. Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, pressing his soft, plump once against yours. His one hand is still tightly wrapped around your throat, while the other slides down to your waist. You run your fingers through his soft hair, making him sigh softly about your soft touches.

He is addicted to you, and he will prove that he can be the one you deserve, who loves you more than everything. He wants you to show you that he loves you, showing you that his words, his feelings are real — that he really means when he confessed his feelings, knowing that you feel the exact same way he does.

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo

[hcneymooners]

⋆ you pull my hair, you call me.

jinx x mermaid!f!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you are a mermaid living in a hidden grotto of the undercity. one day, jinx wanders into your territory. or more accurately, the ruins of her old haunt.

cw: mermaid!reader, canon divergence!au, discussions of trauma, discussion of child loss, mental health issues, non-sexual intimacy, sfw, however, there are suggestive themes, age gap, girl you are literally thousands of years old.

notes: in these coming days, i hold on tightly to fantasies. they become stronger, more intricate. i feel it is my only way to survive. this is dedicated to @s-4pphics, the only person who makes me feel like a real life mermaid.

The water remembers everything. It's why you were born into it. Your mind is a steel trap, a lattice of love and loss.

Water does not coddle the memory, but it soothes. When your mother crawled into the reservoir to birth you, it did not coddle her naked body as it twisted and expelled you. It did nothing to lessen the sore peaks of her nipples as her breasts swelled and hardened with milk. But it soothed.

Your birth was similar to the experience of having birds flutter out of one’s chest. You came into the world with the rush of wind and at the peak of death, eyes big and your silence even larger. You were a beautiful baby with a delicately scaled face, and from the beginning your mother knew you were different.

She holds you, tells you her name—a name that means one thousand flowers. It fits her; you understand this even one minute fresh into your life. Your mother was one thousand flowers both blooming and decaying at once.

You were born in the winter, snow touching the tender skin of your forehead. It is also winter when your mother, a woman of a thousand flowers, dies.

Her body seems to flutter and pulse until it shudders into foam. The water soothes you as you sink. You stay on the ocean floor for what is close to forever. The years pass, but water remembers.

It remembers the screaming, the fire, the way the undercity shattered like a dropped mirror. The shards spun out and out. You never braved the world, then. You would come close to the surface, float backward and bent as you watched the sky smear into green gas and heat. The water—and therefore you—remember the taste of ash and gunpowder, the iron-rich flavor of blood and revenge.

But mostly, you remember her—that odd girl with chaos pumping inside of her like a second, third heart who came stumbling through the wreckage of her old workshop, trailing ghosts and grief like a burial shroud.

You've been watching her for days. Your kind has always been drawn to broken things, to the places where pain bleeds into water until you can't tell where one ends and the other begins. She fascinates you with her paleness, with her long body that is painted and bared by the shoddy work of her pants and the cut of her top. You hide behind large chunks of driftwood, eye the swivel of her hips as she paces and turns. Her eyes are strange, too pale ghosts colored silvery blue. She closes them, opens, closes.

She is like a small bird, this woman. She carries destruction in her hands but cradles it like a wounded animal at times, afraid to hold too tight, afraid to let go. The first time she breaks, it's like watching a star collapse.

She falls to her knees at the water's edge, her wail echoing off the mineral-crusted walls of what was once her sanctuary. Her hands tear and tug at her braids as if she could rip the memories right out of her skull, like plucking loose the weave of a tapestry. The water around you shivers with her anguish, and your body preens; it tells you that you cannot stay hidden any longer.

You rise from the depths like a dream, your hair carrying traces of phosphorescent algae that provide a lazy glow as it swirls around your face. Her eyes fix on you, fever-bright and wild, but she doesn't run. Maybe she thinks you're a hallucination. Maybe she's just too tired to be afraid. 

You understand this.

The silence lasts for a while. The two of you exist across from one another, your face settling on your hands as you inch forward. She has yet to notice the flutter of your tail, but it's only a matter of time. You can see the light refracting off of it into a million sparks of light, dancing across the ceiling as you near her.Her mouth parts and you feel your own hinge open. You are trying to remember, trying to make yourself just like her if only to assuage her fear. Your tongue unfurls, neat and a deep blue. She blinks in surprise, which allows you to speak first.

"I am [Name]," you say, and your voice is a gentle purr like someone has stumbled over the strings of a harp. You are learning, thinking of how humans relate to one another. You don't tell her your real name, your name birthed by ocean and the melt of your mother's scale in the middle of your tongue. You are a woman of a thousand white waves, because every woman in your family has a thousand of something. "This, here, is my home."

You reach out now, because you have seen this before. Her people hug and grasp at one another in welcoming. The woman jerks, falls with a sick crunch on one of those pale hips in an effort to get away from you. You are hurt, and alarmed, and retreat further into the water. Your hand is still clawed as if to hold hers.

"Get back," she warns, voice raw and hoarse. Her eyes repeat their pattern. Close, open. Open and close. You close yours to see what she sees. Your eyelids are thin, translucent. The world can still be seen. She is right in front of you. "I'll hurt you. I'm a curse; I hurt everything.”

You open your eyes now, reach for her anyway. Your scaled hands catch hers, gentling them away from her hair. You smooth the strands, like your sister would do to you when the poachers came.

"My kind cannot be cursed," you tell her. This close she can feel the vibration, the way that your voice carries echoes of tidal pools and deep-sea trenches. "We are older than magic, older than pain. A different kind of creature."

She laughs, and it sounds like breaking glass. "Yeah? Well I bet you've never met anything like me before."

But you have. You've seen the way trauma can twist a soul, how it can make someone forget the shape of their own heart. You've watched your own kind waste away from grief and pollution, watched your bloodline dwindle to almost nothing. You recognize the look in her eyes—it's the same one you saw in your sister's before the toxic waste claimed her, before disease took your mother.

"Do not tell me what you think I know," you answer and she fidgets within your hold.

You are unsure of how to calm her, so you rummage deep inside of your long memory. You think of your mother. Now, you know. You pull her into the water with you, and she thrashes at first—all spinning limbs and desperate gasping. She is much like a fish at the end of a hook, you think. But you hold her, humming an ancient lullaby that vibrates through the water around you both.

Your singing voice, your Melody was always more unsightly than the others. So much higher and almost dissonant, like the cry of a whale during its migration. You mostly Sang alone, while others Sang together. But it winds around Jinx; maybe she is dissonant too. Slowly, so slowly, she stills.

"This is my body," you murmur, pressing close, your scales catching the ethereal light. "And this is yours." Your hands trace her tattoos like star maps, feeling the stories written in ink and scar tissue. You pause at her stomach, feeling an old grief there. You cast your Melody again, and it falls like a net over the skin underneath your fingers.

"You had a child," you say softly, and she goes rigid in your arms.

"Yes.” She admits this truth as if it hurts her. “She was not—not mine.”

“What was her name?”

“Isha,” she chokes out. “She was... I was supposed to protect her." 

“Mmm,” you say. “She was yours. I can feel it. She was yours, and you lost her.” 

You adjust your embrace, thumb at her bottom lip to reveal her blunt teeth. You have no understanding that this is not normal, that this touching and holding and avid tenderness is not of their culture. This woman, this bloodless weeping woman gazes at you. 

“Your motherhood,” you murmur, “sits inside you like a stone. It is closed, like an oyster. You must name it to begin to release the pain.” 

You press down on her lip. 

“What is your name?”

“Jinx,” she whispers.

“Good,” you tell her. “So, you are Jinx. Jinx, mother of Isha.”

The words seem to break something loose in her, and suddenly she's crying—great, heaving sobs that shake her whole body. You hold her through it, letting her tears mix with the mineral-rich water of your grotto. Strange woman, you think. She is a strange, sweet thing.

Her stomach tenses and releases, over and over. You never once stop your Song.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

Days blur together after that. Time moves strangely here. The two of you are a jigsaw puzzle of connection, platonic or maybe familial. You do not ask, preferring to preserve what you have. 

Jinx is shy in the first few moments, a trait you suspect is unfamiliar to her. She builds herself a nest above the waterline: a chaos of stolen furniture and salvaged tech that somehow fits the space perfectly. You watch her work, fascinated by how her hands can create as easily as they dismantle. Sometimes she catches you staring and explains things to you—human concepts that make little sense but delight you anyway.

You measure progress not in days but in small victories: the first time Jinx falls asleep with her head in your lap, fingers curled trustingly around your scales. The morning she lets you rebraid her hair, your webbed fingers gentle against her scalp as you weave strands of luminescent crystal through the blue. The day she shows you how to make paper boats and sets them afloat with tiny lights inside, until the cavern ceiling reflects a mirror image of the stars she remembers from her brief childhood.

You offer up knowledge in return. You speak the thick language of old, born of trench sand and sulfur cracks. She loves when you sing, when your mouth unhinges to show your blue tongue and slightly jagged teeth. She wades into the grotto, standing in the shallow water that barely reaches her ankles, and closes her eyes. She sways as your Melody flows over her, shivering as if touched by cold.

You usually finish the performance by swimming to her, carefully holding her ankles between your extended claws and calling directly to her. This is your favorite—a secret you keep close. You adore how she gazes down at you, how her eyes trace the curve of your slick breasts and torso as you rise to meet her.

You climb until your noses brush, and then you laugh, a sound like the gentle puff of a flute. When you laugh, your gills seize and flex, and Jinx places a hand against them, tracing them until you crook your neck and trill. (That's her favorite.)

"[Name], you can't just walk around topless all the time," she tells you one day, trying not to laugh as you examine a shirt with obvious confusion. The fabric flutters strangely in her hands. "Humans are weird about bodies."

"But they're just bodies," you say, running a webbed hand over your scales. Again, her eyes follow. She closes her eyes, thinking of how your breasts are round and soft like the moon in her hand. You reach out, drawing her closer until she's touching you. "See? This is just flesh. The body is only a  house for our soul."

She grows quiet then, thoughtful in a way that makes her look younger. "Maybe that's why I'm so messed up. My house is... kind of a disaster zone."

You pull her close, letting your tail manifest and wrap around her legs. "Then we'll build you a new one. Piece by piece."

The trust comes in fragments, in stolen quiet moments. Some days she can't bear to be touched, and you give her space, watching from the depths as she paces and talks to ghosts you can't see. Other days she's almost peaceful, letting you massage her scalp or teaching you human games with cards that always seem to explode at exactly the wrong moment.

One night, the voices in her head were particularly loud. You hear it from beneath the water—you sleep closer to the surface since meeting her—and rise to find her jolting in her sleep. You don't think, only move, remembering to rid yourself of your tail only when it scrapes against a sheet of metal jutting from the sand.

You hum agitatedly, distressed by her furrowed brow and trembling body, then take her deeper into the grotto than she's ever been before. Here, crystal formations pulse with bioluminescence, casting rainbow shadows on walls that have never known sunlight. Schools of blind fish dart around you both, their scales glowing like fallen stars.

It takes her a while to wake, but you stay suspended and curled around her. You keep watch, eyeing the murky kelp forests that tease at your fins. There are other, older ways into this grotto that never bothered you before. But now, you're too aware of all the ways someone could reach the jinx resting in your arms.

You see bubbles snort from her nose as she begins to stir, and you move quickly to pluck a shell from the rainbow-dusted walls. The inside is sticky and suctions to her mouth, threading a tendril inside to loop around her lungs and better facilitate her breathing underwater. You don't understand why it works, but you've seen the surface swimmers use it before.

Jinx makes a horrible rasping noise before the shell's work settles in, and then breathing comes easier. The shell is now translucent and attenuated. She cups your side as she shifts in your hold, her unbraided hair thick around her face.

"This is beautiful," she whispers, and for once there's no edge to her voice, no great waiting catastrophe. You know she means you.

"Thank you," you respond, smiling with all your teeth. She smiles crookedly back.

"This was my mother's sanctuary," you tell her, leading her to a cave where ancient glyphs cover the walls. You see her back bend with the water's pressure, and you slow your pace. "There used to be many of me, my bloodline. But the surface world's poisons reached even here." You trace one of the symbols—a spiky, spherical rune that you think means 'confession'. This glyph is older than you, part of a complex language no surface dweller nor merfolk of this time has spoken in millennia. "Now there are only three of us left."

She's quiet for a long moment, her hand finding yours in the glowing water. "Does it ever get easier? Being the only one who survived?"

You think of your sister's last days, of your mother's fading voice. "No," you answer honestly. "But it becomes... different. The pain changes shape, becomes something you can carry without breaking."

She leans into you at that, and you feel the tremors that always precede one of her episodes. But this time, she doesn't fight it. She lets you hold her as the chaos revisits her, trusts you to keep her head above water—in a manner of speaking—as she shakes apart and slowly, slowly comes back together.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

It doesn’t simply disappear. Jinx is one of the spirits’ favorite souls to torture and possess.

Most nights, the past continues to crawl up through the cracked floors of the grotto like a cadaver, its saccharine breath seeping into Jinx's dreams until she wakes screaming. And on most of these nights, you find her in her nest of blankets and broken things, her skin fever-hot and her eyes seeing horrors you cannot share.

But after you take her down, beneath the surface, it is different. Now, most nights, she comes to you.

The pattern is the same: you hear her bare feet on the stone before you see her, padding toward the water's edge like a sleepwalker. Her hair is almost always loose, falling around her face in a cascade that reminds you of the sharp stretch of evening sky across the Arctic Ocean. Then she reaches the pool's edge, but she doesn’t stop.

The water accepts her like a lover, closing over her head in a gentle baptism. You rise to meet her, your form shifting in the dipping waves. You cup the nape of her neck and insert the shell. Your skin takes on its natural sheen, scattered with scales that catch the light like opals. Your hair moves as if still underwater even when you break the surface, glistening tendrils floating around your face. Your eyes are all pupil and hold the depths of the ocean, ancient and knowing, utterly without fear. You reach for her, and, like in the beginning, she still tries to pull away; you simply shake your head.

"Your curse cannot touch me," you remind her, your voice like water over stones. "I am not of your world." Your hands move to cup her face, thumbs brushing away tears that roll from the puffy cliff’s edge of her pale eyes. "I am of the deep places, the dark waters. We recognize our own, remember?"

Remember? You always ask her this. It’s all she ever does.

You rise fully from the water then, your form shifting like light through waves until you stand on human legs, naked and gleaming. You pull Jinx to her feet and begin to undress her with the innocent purpose of a child, unbound by human conventions of modesty or shame. She allows it, trembling—not from cold or fear, but from the overwhelming sensation of being touched without consequence, of being seen. She has yet to confess how much she needs this.

"This is my body," you murmur, pressing close, your scaled hands tracing the bridge of her spine. You are reminding her. "And this is yours. We are both such difficult creatures."

"I don't understand you," she whispers, but her hands come up to trace the patterns of your scales, mapping the places where your skin shifts from human to something else entirely.

You catch her hand and press it flat against your chest, letting her feel the strange rhythm of your heart—beating in time with the tides.

"Fear is for those who have something to lose. My kind has already lost almost everything. What's left is..." You pause, searching for words in a language not made for shadowy creatures like you. "What's left is precious because it survived. I am surviving. You are surviving with me.”

Something shifts in her expression then, understanding blooming like oil across the top of a gulf. Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch.

"Show me again," she breathes, begging. Her breath smells sweet, like candy under the tongue and behind the teeth. "Please."

You take her deeper into the grotto than before, past the engraved walls and into the true heart of your domain. Here, the water is almost desperately alive, swirling with colors that have no names in any human tongue. Your tail manifests fully, lashing out. You seem to be made of living jewels. You are a terrible, beautiful monster; your body twists like a snake as you duck and dive. Jinx watches, transfixed, as you dance through the water, showing her your true way of living.

You do what your kind does when in love. You Sing. You Pull her.

"I've been trying to fix my machines," she says when your last note fades. You are shaking. You have never Sung that hard before. Your Melody has undone you, and you swim weakly back to her. She touches your face, dusts your cheeks with her pruned fingertips. "To make lights that look like this." She gestures at the bioluminescent display around you. "But I keep fucking it up. Everything I touch turns to..."

"A mess," you finish for her. These thoughts are not new. "But a mess is not always born of destruction." You guide her hand through the water, watching the way the disturbed bioluminescence creates new patterns, new constellations. "Sometimes it's just change. It is new, without guidance. You are trying again, relearning. This is only necessary disorder."

She laughs, but it's softer than usual. "Is that what I am? Disordered?"

You pull her closer, letting your tail wrap around her legs as you float together in the heart of the sea. "You are what you choose to be. Here, in these waters, you don't have to be anything but yourself." You pull back so that you can see your hands as you sign to her, curl your fingers into the symbols she’s seen on the walls.

You have changed me. You mouth the words so that she truly understands. You sign it again, across her naked chest so that she can feel the drag of your claws and the pump of her blood in response.

"I don’t feel changed, and I don’t want to ruin you. What if I am still broken?" Her voice cracks on the last word.

"Then be broken here with me," you tell her, pressing your lips to her temple. "The water remembers everything, but it also cleanses. It changes. It heals."

She turns in your arms, and for once, her eyes are clear. No fever, no muddle—just Jinx, looking at you like she’s seeing you for the first time. Her hands find your face, thumbs tracing the almost invisible scales at your temples. You raise your hands, fingers contorting as you sign once more.

We have changed each other. It is a symptom of love.

Jinx says nothing, then she moves. You forget how agile she can be at times. With a few spritely movements, she is holding your waist and treading water. One hand comes up, cradling your face. There is a pause, and you glance at her, eyes wide with confusion and anticipation. This is new. She studies you, and you belatedly realize she is waiting for something. Permission, you think.

“Yes?” you ask. She smiles; it’s the right answer.

She slips out the shell, and you startle. This is dangerous, but she doesn’t care. She stops you.

Her hand nestles thoroughly in your hair, tilting your head until your flesh is exposed to her lips. Again and again, she presses her mouth to your neck. She suckles, nips, until your tail flicks. She is kissing you. You’ve never been kissed before—not like this.

Her teeth dig in, needling at the meat of your throat until it’s mottled and bruised. Then her lips come up to yours. At first, you breathe into her mouth to give her oxygen. Jinx pulls back, grips your jaw, and shakes you slightly. Then her lips return to yours, applying pressure until you open your mouth and allow her tongue in. She licks at your teeth, tracing the points as she holds you to her.

You feel lightheaded, disoriented. You feel good; you want more of her. After a long while, she breaks the contact. Her thumb settles at the base of your throat, slipping to the side to play with your gills. You trill sharply, and she laughs. You don’t want to say it, but you know—you want it to stay this way forever.

Jinx takes her shell from where she had placed it on her stomach. She allows it back into her throat, breathing in deeply. Then she lifts her hands and signs to you—clumsy but earnest.

Yes. You have changed me. It is a symptom of love.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

"I used to think I had to be loud," she tells you one night, floating on her back in the shallow parts of the grotto. Her hair fans out around her head like spilled ink, and you can't help but run your fingers through it, watching the way it parts around your hands. "Had to be crazy, had to be Jinx, because if I wasn't, then I'd have to be... her. The girl I was before. And she was weak. She got left behind."

You hum softly, the crystals below resonating in harmony. "Perhaps she wasn't weak," you suggest, tracing the constellation of freckles on her shoulder. "Perhaps she was just unfinished, like a pearl before the ocean completes its formation."

She turns to look at you then, the emotion in her eyes making your heart beat in that strange double rhythm that only happens when she's near.

"Is that what you're doing?" she asks. "Finishing me?"

You shake your head, pulling her closer until she's cradled against your chest, her back to your front, both of you suspended in the gentle current. "No one can complete you but yourself. I'm just... holding the space for you to do it.”

She's quiet for so long you think she might have fallen asleep. Then: "I’m in love with you." Her voice is barely a whisper, as if the words might shatter the peace.

Instead of answering, you press your lips to her shoulder, right where a new tattoo is healing—a pattern of waves and crystals mirroring your own scales. You helped her design it, watching in fascination as she used her clever hands to create the automaton.

"For us," you tell her, "it is different. We don't fall in love the way humans do. There's less emphasis on choices. It’s more like... finding a current that matches your own, something that pulls you in the same direction for the rest of your life. I've been swimming in your current since the day you arrived. There’s a vibration you release, deep inside me. You set it off, again and again."

Your mouth works oddly around the word "belly." She smiles at your struggle, turning in your embrace to press her forehead to yours in the way she knows you love. Her hands find your face, and you press a kiss to her fingers, grazing your teeth over her thumb. She shivers, captures your mouth briefly, then tucks herself back against you. Drowsy, she begins to dream and you let her, drifting your body lazily along the stretch of water to rock her.

It is then that you hear them—footsteps on stone, careful and measured. You recognize them instantly: the heavy tread of the enforcer, the lighter step of her companion. They've been searching for months, following rumors of blue hair seen in the Undercity's depths.

Jinx doesn't hear them, not yet. She’s drifting in that peaceful place between wakefulness and sleep, her body trustingly pliant in your embrace. She’d had an episode before this—memories of fire leaving her shaking for hours. But now she's quiet, her breathing synced with the gentle lap of water against stone.

You sense her presence before you see her, a disturbance in the air that makes the algae pulse brighter. The Sister. Her presence feels much like Jinx’s but more weathered, carrying the weight of blood. It catches in your throat unpleasantly, making you want to cough. Her footsteps falter at the grotto's entrance. The other one—Caitlyn, you recall—steadies her with a touch, but neither makes a sound.

They stand frozen at the sight before them: Jinx floating in the ethereal water, her hair unbound and threaded with living light, her face peaceful in a way they've never seen. Your tail curls protectively around her legs beneath the surface, scales catching and reflecting the cavern's natural light until it seems like you're both in some unreachable heaven. You bare your teeth to shatter the fantasy.

The Sister’s sharp intake of breath echoes off the stone. Jinx stirs slightly, but you soothe her with a soft hum, reworking her lullaby until the water itself vibrates in harmony. Her fingers tighten briefly on your arms before relaxing again.

When you meet the Sister’s eyes over Jinx's shoulder, you see tears tracking silently down her face. There's recognition there, and grief, and something like hope. You see the moment she understands what you are—not just a creature of the deep but a guardian. Her sister’s keeper; her sister’s mate.

Caitlyn moves forward as if to speak, but Violet—yes, Violet—stops her with a gentle touch. They watch as you shift slightly, letting them see how Jinx's newest tattoos mirror your own patterns—not random splashes of pain and memory but flowing lines that speak of partnership, of flesh and form meant to slot into one another.

A soft noise escapes Violet’s throat, something between a sob and a laugh. Jinx stirs again, and this time you let your gaze drop deliberately to her face, your webbed hands smoothing over her shoulders in a gesture that couldn't be more clear: She is safe here. She is loved here.

You raise a hand, your eyes slipping into their true state to make your threat clear. You know the Piltover girl will understand; her home is the home of poachers. Safe, you sign. Then, Go.

The Sister nods once, tears still falling. Her hand finds Caitlyn's and squeezes hard. You watch understanding pass between them—the recognition that sometimes healing happens in strange places, that sometimes love wears unfamiliar, frightening faces.

They turn to leave, but at the last moment, Violet looks back. Her lips form words you can read even across the distance: Thank you. Only when their footsteps fade completely do you press a kiss to Jinx's temple, tasting the salt of tears that aren’t your own.

"Are they gone?" Jinx's voice is quiet, still heavy with sleep.

"Yes," you answer honestly, because you've never lied to her and won’t start now.

She turns in your embrace, pressing her face into your neck where your scales fade into skin. "I'm not ready," she whispers. "Not yet."

"You can stay here," you promise, letting your tail wrap more securely around her. "For as long as you need. But you will not lose me. I will not lose you.”

She lifts her head to look at you, and her eyes are like silver dollars. You mimic her blinking for what must be the millionth time. Open, close. Close and open. She smiles at this. You smile, hollowing your throat to coo, mimicking the call of a bird of paradise. She laughs now; you are pleased.

 "Tell me again," she murmurs. "About your promise."

Your tail flicks as you nod.

“I will never leave; I will only follow,” you begin. The words are heavy, sacred mating rites belonging solely to your tribe. “The water flows across the earth; it is immovable. It is the human that will fade, not the earth, not myself. We will both replenish. Where you go, I will be there—past death and beyond.

Jinx rises, cupping your face firmly, her touch restricting your movement.

“Promise?” she asks, her voice dipping low, laced with danger.

“I promise.”

She presses her lips to your neck, her teeth sinking in as always. You let out a high, trembling sound, your control slipping. Suddenly, you’re human, treading water. Jinx hooks an arm beneath you, lifting you effortlessly as the water renders you weightless.

“I promise.”

You repeat it, over and over.

IpromiseIpromiseIpromiseIpromiseIpromiseIpromiseIpromiseI promiseI promise—

Jinx drags you from the grotto, positioning herself over you. Your words are still spilling out like a mantra.

“I know,” she murmurs.

Her warm, sugary lips cover yours, silencing you. She swallows you down.

© hcneymooners.

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[hug-kiss-marry-kill]

[loves0phelia]

hii, I was wondering if I could request something with rafe! when they’re stranded in Morocco, at night, all of them together after Sarah and JJ come back, around the fire, all bonding and rafe being a bit apart, maybe reader tries to talk to him, trying to make him feel less alone or something? would love to see what you come up with!<3

Crazier

Summery: Realizing your as crazy as Rafe for loving him.

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: mention of murder, grammar mistakes.

A/N: thank you for requesting i hope you like it even though its not exactly what you asked xx

Everyone walks out of the water slowly and exhausted, the night was crazy. The boat was stranded a few feet away from the shore because of the intense storm that had hit. You were all dizzy and disoriented but also insanely worried. Your friends Sarah and JJ had both disappeared into the water earlier that night, lost in the waves, with no way to find them.

Rafe was the first to hit solid ground. He stumbled forward, collapsing onto his back in the sand, spitting out seawater. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, the salty air biting at his raw throat. 

“I looked everywhere,” John B said, running up the hill, his voice shaky and hoarse. He coughed, forcing himself upright with one hand pressed to his chest.

“I couldn't find them,”  He said in defeat, but nobody answered. You and the rest of your friends only shook your head and sighed. The silence was heavy.

You pushed your hair out of your face, looking over the crackling fire.

“Maybe they just washed up further down the beach. We have to keep looking,” John B said, still hoping his pregnant wife and his best friend weren't gone forever.

“Well look at first light” Kie affirmed earning nods from the rest of the pogues.

Your gaze drifted from the fire for a second and you noticed Rafe, sitting on the other side of the fire, apart from the group. His eyes connected with yours and a chill went down your spine. It's like you and he understood each other without speaking a word. You knew you needed to talk to him as soon as possible. You needed to.

The sun rose on the horizon and the beach was eerily quiet now, save for the crashing waves and the occasional call of a seabird. The others were spread out, combing the shoreline for any sign of Sarah or JJ. But Rafe was apart from them, sitting on a jagged rock a little further down the beach, his shoulders hunched and his face set in a grim expression.

Rafe had stayed up all night, he would never say it but he was worried about his sister. The mere thought of his sister being gone, drowned in the ocean, with no way to find her body, sickened him. He looked so out of place—angry, lost, and alone and while the Pogues had ignored him, you couldn’t. You knew Rafe too well to leave him like this.

Taking a deep breath, you veered off course and approached him.  

“Hey,” you called softly.  

Rafe didn’t look up. He was staring at the waves, his jaw tight, his hands resting on his knees.  

“Rafe,” you tried again, more gently this time.  

He finally turned his head, his eyes narrowing slightly when he saw you. “What do you want, Y/N?” His tone was sharp, but there was no real bite to it.  

You sighed, and sat crisscrossed in the sand next to him “I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been sitting here for a while.”  

“Why? Thought you Pogues hated me.”  He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head

“That’s not true,” you said quickly, and after hesitating you added, “I don’t. I never did”  

That seemed to catch his attention. He looked at you fully now, his blue eyes searching yours. “Yeah? Since when?”  

You tilted your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the tension. “Since always, Rafe. You know that.”  

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he muttered. “Feels like I’m the villain in everyone’s story. Including yours.”  Rafe’s gaze dropped to the ground, his fingers digging into his jeans.

“That’s not fair,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “We’ve been through a lot, you and me. And yeah, you’ve made some… questionable choices. But that doesn’t erase everything from before.”  

He scoffed, running a hand through his buzzed hair. “Before. You mean before I screwed everything up, right? Before I became the guy everyone loved to hate.”  

You frowned, your heart aching at the bitterness in his voice. “Rafe, you’re not that guy to me. I still see the person I used to know. The one who’d sneak out of Tannyhill to meet me, a pogue, at the docks. The one who didn’t care I had to work 36 hours a week to be able to live. The one who used to make me laugh when I had the worst days ever.”  

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “But that guy’s long gone, Y/N.”  

You shook your head, leaning in slightly. “I don’t believe that. Not completely. I think he’s still in there somewhere.”  

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at the ocean, the tension in his jaw slowly easing. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, more vulnerable.  

“Why are you even talking to me? After everything… Why bother?”  

You reached out hesitantly, your fingers brushing against his. “Because I care about you, Rafe. I always have, always will”  

He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t look at you either. Instead, he stared at your hands for a long moment.

“How? How can you still care? I ruined everything after… after I killed Peterkin. I ruined us” His tone was vulnerable.

The memory came unbidden, sharp and vivid like a wound reopened. 

It had been late—one of those sticky, humid Outer Banks nights when the air clung to your skin, thick with salt and heat. You stood on the dock by the marsh, your arms wrapped around yourself, waiting. The soft lapping of water against the pylons had been the only sound as you stared at the dark water.  

Rafe had promised he’d meet you there. The day was crazy. John B had come running to the chateau his skin covered in blood that wasn't his. He had claimed Rafe, your Rafe, had murdered the sheriff. But you couldn't believe it you had to ask your boyfriend yourself.

When he finally showed up, the boy you’d known was a shadow of himself. His shirt was wrinkled and half-untucked, his hair wild like he’d run his hands through it a thousand times. And his eyes—those piercing blue eyes you used to get lost in—were bloodshot and unfocused.  

“Rafe,” you said softly, walking up to him, your hands reaching for him like magnets, the edge of worry sharpening your tone. “What’s going on?”  

He stumbled slightly as he stepped onto the dock, catching himself against a post. “Nothing,” he said, brushing your concern away with a shaky laugh. “Why do you always gotta ask that, huh? I’m fine.”  

“You don’t look fine,” you countered, stepping closer. You could smell the alcohol on him, sharp and sour, mingling with something else you couldn't quite place. Your heart twisted painfully. “Rafe, is it true? Is it true what John B said?”  Tears flooded your vision.

“John B?” He let out a bitter laugh, louder than it needed to be. His unsteady voice carried over the quiet water.

“Yes, did you kill the sheriff?”  Your brows furrowed at his behaviour.

“No! I was saving my dad!” he slurred, stepping closer to you, “you’re always gonna believe your little friends over me uh?!”

“That’s not true!” You shot back, Your voice rising in frustration. “I’m here because I don't believe them. I'm here because I want to know your side of the story.”  

He scoffed, turning his back to you and running a hand through his hair. “Fine, I did kill her!” he shouted and his voice echoed over the water surrounding you.

“Why Rafe? What happened?” your chest tightened and your hands still reached for him but he stepped back and pushed your hands away. 

“She was gonna kill my dad!” he said, his voice raw now, almost broken as he hyperventilated.

You stepped closer, Your eyes searching for his. “Rafe, breathe please, baby.”  Once more you stepped toward him but this time he pushed you away entirely. Your back hits the railing of the dock hard, the wood digging into your skin.

“Don't fucking touch me!” he screamed and held his head like he was in pain.  

Tears burned in your eyes. “Rafe,” you said, your voice trembling. “don't push me away, please. We can figure it out together okay? It doesn't matter to me what you did, I love you”  

He took a step back, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Don't come near me again alright?”  

“Don’t do this,” you begged, your voice cracking.  

But Rafe had already turned away, walking back down the dock toward his truck. You stood there, frozen, watching as he disappeared into the night.  

What you didn't know was, after this moment Rafe felt as if his lungs were being ripped from his body, he couldn't breathe. The feeling of losing you was too much for him even though it was his fault. But you didn't deserve the chaos of his life so he left you broken and empty.

That was the last time you’d seen him before everything fell apart—before all the adventures, the chaos, and the betrayals that split your worlds in two.  

Back in the present, you blinked, the memory dissolving like mist. You glanced over at Rafe, his face as unreadable as ever. For a moment, the words were stuck in your throat.  

“I've always loved you, Rafe. Maybe it's because I'm crazy. Maybe I'm even crazier for thinking you're a good person for killing for the people you love no matter what” At your words Rafe eyes widen and his hand tightens around yours almost like he searched for signs to understand if he was dreaming or not.

“I'd kill for you in a heartbeat,” he whispered.

“And I'd kill for you” Yours and Rafe's eyes pierced each other's souls.

“Guys, they are back!” You heard Pope scream as JJ and Sarah appeared behind the mountain of sand.

Rafe broke eye contact to look over at his sister and when he saw she was in fact well and alive you could see the tension being lifted from his shoulder.

Knowing you still loved him just as much as he still loved you and knowing his sister was safe was all that mattered. 

[angrythingstarlight]

I hope Bee gets all the hearts and pink cupcakes in the world this coming Valentine’s Day🥺

She will!

Bucky has something sweet planned for her and her mama.

In the meantime, Bucky is seconds from having an aneurysm because the shifty little bastard strikes again.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader

AN: Written on my phone, will edit later.

"No." Bucky takes a sip of bourbon, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. A smirk lingers on his lips.

You've been, not so subtly, attempting to pry a hint out of him for the past hour. Nothing you've done so far has broken his resolve to keep his Valentine's Day plans a secret. No matter how tempting the offer.

"Please." You move to your knees, lips brushing his ear as you whisper. "Please Bucky."

His chest slowly rises and falls. You don't play fair. His heartbeat spikes when you bite his earlobe, his eyes closing. "No Malyshka."

No. You haven't heard that word come out of his mouth in forever. "What do you mean no?"

Even as the question leaves your lips, your eyes go wide. He really does have you spoiled. Bucky laughs under his breath as if he knows what's going through your mind. You push his shoulder, sitting back on your haunches.

"You'll get it when I'm ready to give it to you." Bucky raises the glass to his mouth. He doesn't have the decency to conceal how much he's enjoying teasing you. He wonders how desperate you'll get. This should be fun.

Just as you're about go to plan C, Bee runs in the living room, skidding to a stop in front of the couch. She beams up at the two of you. "Hi Papa, Hi Mommy. I was lookin' for you all over."

This is the first room she's checked.

"Hey Bee. You ready for Valentine's day?" You ask, reaching out to fix her sleeve.

"Oh I real 'cited. Frankie gave me a lot of kisses," she replies, holding up four fingers. "You get lots of kisses mommy?"

Bucky feels his stomach drop, his bourbon goes down wrong, burning a path straight down his windpipe and he coughs harshly. "What?"

He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, dropping the glass on the end table with a sharp clack that nearly shatters it. Bucky clears his throat. "Kisses?"

Bee grins, reaching into her pocket. "Yeah, he gave me some for baletine's cause he's my boyfrien'."

His gaze narrows. Jaw tightens. He knew it. He knew he was right about that little bastard. He knows a long con when he sees one. If he makes a call right now, Frankie will be enrolling in a new school by the end of the week. Preferably an ocean away from his baby.

"No," you hiss, grabbing his chin and turning his face to you. You can read him just as easily as he can read you. "No Bucky." Without breaking eye contact, you continue speaking. "What kind of kisses Bumblebee?"

"Yummy ones Mommy."

Bucky makes a pained noise in his throat. You will yourself not to giggle—it's really hard not to but you don't think Bucky could handle that on top of everything else. He's stiff as a board under your hands, so tense he might snap.

"Oh that's nice. Do you have any more?"

His brows knit, confusion warring with the panic in his deep blue gaze.

"You can has dis one," she offers, holding up a Hershey kiss wrapped in pink foil.

"Thank you, sweet Bee." You pluck it off her palm and let go of Bucky. Slowly unwrapping it, you plop the chocolate in your mouth. He deflates, avoiding your gaze as he loosens his tie with a chagrined expression. He can concede that he may have slightly overreacted.

"Frankie gots you some kisses Papa." She doesn't notice the disgusted sneer sliding across his face. "You waits right here. I gonna get them." She sprints out the room, the soft patter of her steps fading down the hallway.

"Not. A. Word."

Head tilting back, you cackle. Loudly. Boisterously. Your entire body shaking from the force of it. Bucky stares pensively in your direction, polishing off the rest of his drink while he waits for your laughter to abate.

"Oh I'm telling Steve and Sam all about this. Don't give me that look, I'm not afraid of you Barnes," you wheeze out, wiping the stray tear from your cheek.

You crawl over his lap, legs draped over the arm of the couch, your head on his shoulder. He grabs your thigh, pulling you closer. "But if you tell me what you're getting me for Valentine's Day, I might be convinced to keep my mouth shut."

Bucky weighs his options, Steve and Sam will never let him live this down or he can reveal his plans. He makes a swift decision. He doesn't have to think about it. His large, warm hand slides up your throat, and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. He smiles softly before pressing an even softer kiss on your forehead.

"No."

[geeeemmmmmmm]

"Cant take my eyes off you"

A/N:Ignore how the title of my post wouldn't work lol. Bro I cannot get the gif working but thank you to the person that showed me the gif<3. Just finished rewatching TFATWS and that last scene with Bucky on the boat with the kids playing on his vibrianium arm as he talks is just "chefs kiss" As always sorry for any mistakes and enjoy:)

Summary:You and Bucky go see Sam and his family on their boat on a nice warm summer evening.

Warnings:Mentions of beer, fluff

WC:956

"C'mon already Y/N" Bucky called in that fake irritated way he loved to tease you as he waited at the front door of your house. "Yea yea, here I am" you said while you walked out looking breathtaking in your creamy white sundress that flattered your body in every way possible and quite frankly you knew it as you did a fake model strut, swishing your silky smooth hair in the air as you made your way down the hall to see Bucky's jaw practically sitting on the floor. He always did this when you came down the hall from your guy's shared bedroom, even if you were in the mundane outfit he was always in awe of how he managed to get a girl like you in his life. "Not so bad yourself" You smirked taking in how handsome your boyfriend looked even if he was only wearing his dark red short sleeve that really made his arms just look unreal with a pair of his usual black denim jeans but the thing that sealed the deal was his beautiful ocean blue eyes just gazing at you with all the love in the world. "C'mon already Buck" you teased him as you made your way out the door as he completely forgot about the outside world as he admired you, you laughed as he stumbled back into reality while locking the door and running up to you hastily putting his flesh arm around you as you just sighed in bliss as you started the about 15 minute ish walk. Bucky has always preferred walking to places, no reason at all but as long as it gave him more of an excuse to wrap his arm around you and press kisses to your soft hair.

The sounds of distant chatter and laughter became louder as you two approached the Wilson's boat as you were greeted by Sam's nephews charging at you two, they had been anticipating you and Bucky's arrival for ages just wanting to be near you guys. Kids have always been drawn to Bucky, he may not be the keenest of kids but he always stays a gentleman even to them but it was your calm and kind personality that always drew them to you. "Guys, guys we'll come see you all soon" Bucky tried to direct them away in a fake serious voice as he pulled you off to come see Sam with him as the kids just looked disappointed while a collective sigh came from all of them.

"Feels like I haven't seen y'all forever" Sam gushed as he got two beers for the pair of you "We saw you recently when you revealed the fixed boat to everyone" you giggled to Sam as he just swatted his hand in reply. Before Bucky could speak, someone dinged their glass to begin a toast "To Captain America and the greatness he has already achieved and for all the pride of the country to come with him!" Sarah cheered glowing with pride for her brother. Bucky and you clinked bottles with Sam "To Cap!" you and Bucky celebrated while Sam pulled you both in a big hug.

As the sun began to set you both made your way to sit down making small talk with friends and family of Sam. "1...2...3!!" hushed whispers were heard right as the nephews tried to begin a playfight with Bucky but he just smirked and held his metal arm up while they tried and tried to bring him down, not knowing the true strength Bucky held. The whole table laughed seeing Bucky unphased and still talking while the kids used all their might to just move his arm "Give them a chance" you whispered in his ear as you patted his chest watching him look down in defeat as he dropped him arm for the kids to again try pull him down while you saw the sparkle in his eyes as he glanced at the boys seeming to be having the time of their lives as his eyes made their way back to yours as he pressed a small kiss to your lips.

Just as the clock hit 9PM Sarah grabbed the two young boys with an actual serious tone "Bed. Now" as they reluctantly let Bucky's arm go moping as they walked "I'll rematch you next time" he whispered to the boys in a mischievous tone as their faces lit up and suddenly they ran to their room already making "battle" plans. "I want front row tickets to that" you breathed out in a sleepy tone as you fell more into Bucky's side "I'll need you ringside Doll but for now let's get you home" He whispered back as he began getting up and reaching his hand out to help you up. You took his hand gracefully and smiled at him as you two embarked home, but of course you two did your rounds hugging and saying goodbye to everyone as Sam and Sarah only let you go if you two come back soon. Bucky smiled faintly and waved at them while you waved quickly after him trying to look a little more awake.

The walk home was peaceful, while you were sleepy you took your time admiring how the street lights lit up Bucky's face perfectly and how you could really see his eyes gleaming their beautiful ocean blue colour. "You've been staring at me all night" he declared before he cupped your face in his metal arm, noticing how you shut your eyes and leaned into his hand "Can't take my eyes off you" you mumbled sleepily with a cheeky smirk on your face as you reached your front door with relief you could cuddle up in bed with Bucky

A/N:This was so fun to write, I hope you all enjoyed!!

[minhosimthings]

A study in Tea || I.N (18+)

Synopsis: An innocent date to a tea shop takes a wild turn when you and Jeongin stumble upon aphrodisiacs.

Pairings: bf!Jeongin × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, p in v, rough sex, oral (f), fingering, roughdom!Jeongin, spanking, hair pulling, thigh riding, needy reader, USE OF APHRODISIAC, jeongin being a hot little shit

A/N: not gonna say anything yall enjoy the porn

"Oh look at that one!" You excitedly pointed out a light blue sachet of tea, placed high and proper on a pedestal. Beneath it was a plaque which read 'Butterfly Pea Flower'. 

"Doesn't this turn pink when you add orange juice or something?" Jeongin eyed the tiny tea flakes in the sample cup wearily, as if it would hop out and attack him at any moment. You rolled your eyes at his utmost ignorance. 

"I think you mean lemon juice." You corrected him in a matter-of-fact voice, "Ugh just leave me in this place forever!" You bounced up and down on your heel, excitedly looking at all the colourful sachets of teas, coffees and chocolates surrounding you. 

Cute, Jeongin thought. 

"Am I going to be spending money on dried leaves all day?" Jeongin peered at yet another sachet suspiciously, to which you rolled your eyes, and pointed towards your handbag. 

"I have my own money, you know?" You chuckled, going back to skipping through the aisles to find something you like. But Jeongin shook his head. 

"Now what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let the love of my life spend money huh?" He said, placing his hand on his chest as if the mere thought of you spending money was nothing short of a scandalous affair. 

"Ooh let's look there." You said, completely ignoring him as soon as your eye caught a magnificent section filled with different hues of pinks and reds. Your boyfriend complied, letting you drag him wherever you wanted.

After all, he was the one who had suggested going to ‘that aesthetic shop’ three blocks down as a date in the first place.

Jeongin admired you while you happily moved through the vast ocean of bold reds and calm maroons, each shade getting inkier as you moved along to the end of the tea section. A soft smile appeared on his face everytime you excitedly pointed at a sachet of tea, rambling for a minute about everything you knew about the fragrant tea leaves sitting in the free trial cup. To any stranger, he would have looked like a madman, going insane out of his love for you.

You, on the other hand, were immersed in reading the titles of each different tea. A mischievous smirk (which your beloved didn't notice), appeared on your face as you reached some of the darker magenta packets. They were outlined in a different kind of font than the other. They were bolder, more tantalising, and to simply put it—sexier. But that smirk was also combined with an involuntary blush, one that Jeongin, with his sharp, fox-like eyes, noticed immediately. 

“Now which non-existent man here just made my baby blush hm?” He inched closer to you, placing his nose close to your neck, inhaling your scent, “I’ll fight him with my bare hands.”

“Chivalry exists after all.” You giggled, when you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist as if they were magnets which had been torn away from their iron. Goosebumps erupted on your skin, when Jeongin pressed a particularly wet kiss on the curve of your neck, sucking on it with his plump lips. You were thankful that not a lot of people were in the shop and the employees were on the other side of the store.

“Innie.” You said in a waning tone, hoping it concealed your shaky voice, by god did he make you melt into his hands with a single kiss, “We are in public.”

“And?” Jeongin questioned, teasing your waist with his moving fingers painting invisible murals, “Didn't really stop you from staring at those—what were they called?” He glanced over your shoulder at the teas, “Love potions.”

You felt your cheeks burn, not out of embarrassment, but from the way Jeongin spoke in that alluringly low voice of his, bringing it down a few octaves just to send ripples through your body. He had you trapped in his arms as well, his lips free to attack your neck like a starved man lusting for food.

“How about—” You felt his grip loosen (only slightly), “—we test these out at home hm?”

==============================

“Don’t drink it yet!” You slapped Jeongin’s hand away from the steaming cup of tea, “The instructions say we need to wait for five minutes for—” You stopped in the middle of your words, taking a breath before speaking, “—for the effect to fully register.”

“Oh the effect will register alright.” Jeongin smirked, his dimple appearing on his face, “But what should we do while we’re waiting hm?” 

“You really wanna ruin the magical adventure of drinking this, don’t you?” You bit your lip, eyes flickering down to his swollen ones (the parking lot was an amazing place for a messy makeout). Jeongin scrunched his nose, making you chuckle.

“I’ve never even heard of these things.” Jeongin glanced down at the mugs filled with lilac-coloured liquid, “Aphrodisiacs huh?” He chuckled darkly, “Shame that we didnt know about it before, imagine all the fun we could have had.” Jeongin noticed your awkward smile and the way you avoided his eyes. He raised his brow at you.

“Don’t tell me you knew.” He groaned on seeing your smile widen, “And you seriously never told me?”

“Well would you look at that, it's been five minutes.” You said quickly, grabbing the mugs and shoving one of them in Jeongin’s hand, “Cheers!” You clinked your mug with his.

Jeongin smirked into his cup before lifting it to his lips, pretending to pour it down his throat. He eyed you from a corner, silently musing over the way you were forcing yourself to drink it. It must have tasted horrible, a fact which he used as an opportunity.

“Fuck—i can’t drink the rest.” He said, loud enough for you to hear it. He proceeded to walk over to the sink and dump the entire tea in, making it look like he had only drunk half. 

“Me neither.” He heard you groan, following in his footsteps and dumping only  a little amount of tea into the sink. You wiped your mouth with the back of our hand, sticking out your tongue in a disgusted manner.

“We did not just waste our money on that horrible thing.” You said, “I need sugar right now.’

“Woah, hold on.” Jeongin grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to him, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Didn't the instructions say it wouldn't work if you ate anything after drinking it?” 

“Welp.” you shrugged your shoulders in defeat, “Guess we have to wait then.” you turned around to face the counter and your eyes landed on the ripped packet of tea laying on the granite surface. ‘Effective in less than a second!’ was written in front in cream, coloured italic letters, to complement the magenta colour of the packaging. 

What a scam, you thought, wondering why you weren't immediately feeling the urge to go ham crazy on Jeongin right in the middle of the kitchen.

 If only you knew what would happen later.

============================================

“Ugh fucking hell....” You said, rubbing your forehead with your fingers, did the living room always smell so much like Jeongin’s cologne?

“You okay babe?” He asked, looking up from the book he was reading. He had noticed you constantly bringing your hand up to your head, in an attempt to soothe your nerves. Was this a side effect of the tea? Jeongin wondered. You were sitting only a few inches from him, with your feet slightly touching his.

“Why do you smell so good right now?” You asked him, albeit you had to admit that you were technically asking yourself that. Jeongin chuckled darkly, and put his book down on the table, crawling over to you on the sofa. His arms automatically wrapped around your waist.

“You sure you’re alright baby?” He asked again, this time inching his face closer to yours, “Do you wanna get to bed–”

Jeongin’s sentence faded into a groan, the sound deep and raw, and before you could pull away from your sudden attack on his lips, his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you back to him, his lips crashing against yours with a carnal hunger. You felt the heat too, the urgency that was beginning to rise between you so suddenly. 

You felt his tongue caressing the inside of your mouth, tracing the shape of your teeth, stroking your own tongue, coaxing it to move with his. A soft moan escapes you when the kiss becomes more intense, Jeongin's slender tongue effortlessly sliding into your mouth and dominating the kiss, arousal pooling between your thighs while your mind fogs with lust, the feeling of his hands burning into your skin as you think you're going to go mad with desire. 

The aphrodisiac worked after all, a small voice at the back of your head said. You felt your head grow light from the lack of air, but still, you were locked in the kiss, unable to pull away, unable to do anything but respond to him.

“c’mere, baby,” he murmured, voice heavy with arousal. You shifted forward, practically climbing onto his lap, pulling a groan from deep within him. Your entire body moved on its own accord, as if you had come alive for the first time; your mouth worked against his and you circled your hips against his and you were consumed entirely by him. 

He kissed back more firmly this time. His fingers dug into your hip and you sighed into his mouth in response. He took this as a good sign, moving his hand around to palm at your ass.

He gives an experimental roll of his thigh, and the friction against your clothed core draws a sharp gasp from your lips. The sensation is maddening, just enough to stoke the fire that’s been smoldering inside you, but not nearly enough to satisfy.

You brought your left hand to his shoulder, fisting your fingers in the fabric there and pulling him closer. He understood your intention eased up on your lips and began a slow trek towards your collar bone, leaving a love bite there that had you gasping. He kissed down the low lying neckline of your oversized shirt, which covered your thighs. Jeongin’s fingers reached below the shirt, hitching it up to your bustline, and ghosting over the skin there,

As if you had unconsciously understood him, you raised your arms up to give him better access. Jeongin smirked as he pulled your shirt off the top of your head in one swift motion, leaving you in your bra and panties. 

His hands eagerly travelling across the exposed skin you just revealed, fingers dancing across your lower abdomen before reaching your lower back and up, swiftly unclasping your bra and pulling it off while your lips meet his passionately, both of you smiling into it to start with.

You gasped at his touch, your hands moving in the hair at the back of his head, fingers winding through the strands, nails dragging at his scalp. The adrenaline racing up your spine made you feel like you might vibrate out of your skin. Jeongin’s eyes darkened at the sight of your perked up nipples.

“So fucking needy for me.” he mumbles, a hand coming around to let you wrap your arms around him. As soon as your weight falls on his thigh again, your mouth falls agape, and your forehead falls on his shoulder. Your breathing gets heavier, softly rubbing your lower half on his thigh.

“You alright baby?” Jeongin asked, his hand coming up to rub your back, his leg muscle unintentionally flexing under you. You let out a loud gasp at the sudden stimulation. Though you had ridden him multiple times before, this one felt so much more different. So much more ravenous.

You continued to move on his thigh, finally finding the spot, your clit rubbing against his thigh. Jeongin’s eyes continued to eye you up and down, lingering for a long time at the sight of your naked breasts bouncing up and down rhythmically.

 “Such a good girl, you're such a good angel,” He said, now feeling the strain on his grey sweats.

The heat off of him felt so nice. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck. Your bare chest pressed against him. You slowly caressed the skin on his back. Turning your head up, he turned his gaze down and your eyes met. A moment savoured just before you leaned in and you kissed. You lingered before you both pulled back just slightly.

His thigh rubbed your cunt just right, making the right amount of friction. You buck your hips to grind against him, moaning out. “Ngh…fuck..” You grasp at his shoulders and grind harder, your shame got thrown out the window. You were dripping on his pants at this point, your stomach forming a burning knot. 

"Innie," you groan when he cups your breasts, squeezing firmly but not too hard, his fingers grazing over your nipples and pulling on them softly, dragging more sinful noises out of you. "I need you," You sigh out, lolling your head back as he toys with your boobs shamelessly with his long, sleek fingers, smirking against your skin at the feeling of your hips grinding against him harder, needing to ease the incessant throb between your legs, the intolerable heat that only he could help you with.

“Please, please, need your fingers,” you pant like you’re in heat. The tea was working its wonders on you, which Jeongin was highly pleased to see.

Like mercy from God, his middle finger leaves through your folds. It simply strokes up and down for a little while, focusing fleetingly on your sensitive nub before tracing around your entrance, making you whimper desperately. You closed your eyes and exhaled softly, when you felt his cold fingers against your wet folds. 

"So wet for me, honey?" His rhetorical questions were turning you on even more. His dominance knew no bounds and so did his fingers, that were gently rubbing your labia. Everything around you started fading away, the only thing you could focus on was Jeongin and his fingers on your pussy. 

You lost yourself when he slowly inserted his finger inside, finally making you moan properly (just the way he liked it) and burying your face into Jeongin’s clavicles, desperate arms scratching at his back.

 “Oh you like that don't you?” He grinned, watching your poorly hidden scrunched face as he felt your throbbing arousal. You started seeing stars even so your eyes were tightly closed. Wet juicy sounds wafted through the living room and for a moment, you forgot where you are or what your name is. 

Jeongin’s curling inside you picked up the pace, his hot breaths turned into chuckling, as he felt your clenching around him. You let out a loud moan, your chest was moving rapidly, as you tried to catch your breath.

 But Jeongin wouldn't let you have your fun. And soon enough his fingers had left your panting pussy faster than you could comprehend anything.

“Innie!” You cried, edging towards him, with a shocked expression on your face, “Why would you—”

He didn't let you complete your sentence properly, choosing to make you fade it into a pleasured scream, when his hand collided with your rear with a loud smack, jolting you forward slightly. You whimper at the pain but find oddly that there’s a sensation. You find yourself moaning softly, and now magically laying on your stomach.

Thwack, thwack, thwack. He delivers a few more. With each one, the feeling is more pleasant, your skin tingling under his ministrations. He takes a moment, gently rubbing up and down your back, almost like he’s soothing you. He feels you rising and falling with your sharp breaths under his hand. You’re mortified at how much you’re liking this. Perhaps it was because of the tea.

“Dirty little slut.” he taunts, smacking you once more, eliciting a guttural groan from you, “Who’d have thought that my sweet baby would love this so much?” Jeongin’s warm breath on your ear tickles you. 

He shifts slightly and then chuckles deeper, noticing a dark wet patch on your underwear. “You’re really liking this,” his hand settles between your cheeks, rubbing at your clothed heat. You whimper and arch your back. “You’re soaking darling,” he coos. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re a whimpering mess,” he moves his hand up to pull down your underwear, it peels slowly away from your core, the cool air hitting your wetness and making you shiver. 

Jeongin grips your hips tightly and shifts your position to lay on your back, the soft material of the sofa providing a sort of comfort to your skin, which was already bruised by the multiple kisses that had escaped from your boyfriend's mouth. You watch as he takes off his shirt and pulls down his trousers, exposing his hard cock, dying to burst out of his boxers. Jeongin's cock is oozing with precum, and you can see the dampness spreading on his boxers as he slowly takes them off, coming to rest between your legs. You hook one leg each over either shoulder, bringing yourself closer to him.

You stretch a bit uncomfortably in this position, but any discomfort fades away the moment he leans forward and licks from your entrance to the top of your clit. A loud moan escapes you as his warm, wet tongue makes contact with your pussy. You sigh into the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut as you tangle your fingers in his hair, anchoring yourself as you urge him deeper. His tongue glides up your folds, skillfully, occasionally pausing to plant soft kisses on your clit. He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth.

“That feel good, baby?” He murmurs, making you whine in response.

“Yes, i-it feels real-really good!” You choked out as his tongue began burrowing into your core, sliding in and out with a wet sound that set your nerve endings on fire.

 “Oh, my God, Jeongin!” You cry as you feel the tension in your belly tighten, your thighs tremble warningly, and he grabs firmly onto your thighs so he can make them squeeze his head to lock himself in place.

 “Fuck, yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs around his head as your back arches from the pleasure of your release. Jeongin laps sloppily at your folds, drinking your sweet nectar greedily, refusing to stop until you’re begging him to quit. “Innie—I–ahhhh.” You sigh weakly, your body jolting with every languid stroke of his tongue.

Jeongin groans against you, sending delicious vibrations coursing through your body as you tug on his hair, lost in the pleasure. You find yourself grinding your hips forward, desperately seeking more contact as your arousal drips down his chin like a waterfall. 

You didn't really notice the way Jeongin’s eyes trailed darkly up your body, or the way he lapped up the arousal he had collected on his chin from your heavenly pussy. You didn't notice, until he was laying on top of you, his naked body sprawled out in a magnificent display. You practically drooled.

“Poor baby.” Jeongin cooed at you, cupping your cheek with his hand and leaning forward to place a kiss to your nose, “Do you need my cock, darling?”

You knew he was taunting you, mocking you even, for being so needy for him, but you didn't mind, how could you? When the delicious tip of his naked cock was teasing your throbbing labia so much. You couldn't even say anything, choosing to remain silent and enjoy his teasing.

“Come on now.” Jeongin urged you, smirking, “Be a good girl for me,” He lowered his hips so that his cock was an inch deep in your cunt making you gasp loudly, “and beg for my cock.”

“Please Innie,” You whined, grabbing his bicep with your right hand and squeezing it, “Please–need you so bad.” 

That was all it took for his massive cock to completely split you open. Jeongin thrusts his whole length into you, black dots cover your vision at the feeling of it.

You whimper at the new angle, struggling to accommodate his impressive girth. As your walls squeeze around him, trying to adapt, he uses more force to push deeper, stretching you further. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming, as it feels like you’re being torn open, split in half by his thickness.

“S-shit it’s like you’re fucking choking my cock” he grunts out, looking at the slight bulge in your lower stomach. The sight is enough to make him cum right then and there. You nod, babbling incoherently into his ear. Your skin takes on a feverish sheen, but you don’t care. All you care about is the feeling of his cock slamming into you and how his arms flex with every thrust. 

Jeongin doesn't give you any adjustment time, his thrusts are hard and quick, his one hand moves to your head, he grabs a fist full of your hair and puts your head back making your arch your back. He smirks at you like he was testing a theory and he was right about it. He lets go over your hair and moves to your neck. Your eyes widen as he pushes harder and harder against your neck.

“Ah, fuck!” Tears are already dripping down your face onto the sofa. His cock is so big, long and hard and he makes your pussy and tummy feel so full of him. 

“I’ve got you–fuckkk.” he soothes and moans his pleasure out simultaneously, fucking you at an impossible pace. This hedonistic feeling was heaven on earth. 

All you can answer with are moans as they slip off your lips. Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell Jeongin, breathlessly, about how good he makes you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sofa's material, burying your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, you whine as you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his thick cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, the tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head as you dig your fingers more into the sofa, you mewl at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goood—” The sentence doesn’t even fully come out from your mouth.

He's so deep inside you, your legs are shaking. He doesn't stop though, instead of his regular thrusts he does small ones so he can stay buried inside you.  He stays like that for a while just slowly fucking you, you start to get annoyed, you want more. More of him. 

"Baby, please." 

"What do you want, princess?" He looks at your drooping eyes. 

"Harder please harder." Jeongin chuckles at your pathetic words.

 "Fuck" You say breathless as he begins rubbing and thrusting into you once more. Jeongin bites and kisses your ear and your neck. You hold in your moans but can't help the few squeals and whimpers that escape your lips. He whispers the filthiest words known to mankind in your ear, you can't take all the pleasure it's too much.

 "I can't"  You say but it's barely audible.

 "Yes you can baby." Jeongin whispers "Just one more time." He kisses your cheek. You close your eyes tight, your body shakes, your head is fuzzy. "That's a good girl." He praises. "Look at you, cumming for me. Such a good girl." You open your mouth but you can't make a sound.

 You cum, hard. 

His massive cock and immeasurably hard thrusts were all too much. You came undone with a loud cry, clenching around him as his fingers worked over your clit. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave and your thighs shook, gripping at the headboard as his breath hitched and he came too, fucking you through it, leaning heavily over your back. You felt your vision turn hazy and gave a moan as you felt him spill inside you, moving your hips what little bit you could into his jagged thrusts, eating up every breathless sound he made by your ear. He pushed into you a couple more times before halting, breathing like a bull behind your head.

His lips peck yours once more before pressing a loving kiss to your temple, his body rolling next to you. You stay like that for a while, sounds of heavy panting filing the air. Your mind racked inside its skull and your eyes started feeling heavy as pure exhaustion hit you like a truck.

You felt Jeongin’s gentle touch pull you closer to him, turning you on your side so that you were more comfortable in his arms. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he waited until you were fully asleep before slowly removing his arms from your body and sneaking into the kitchen, with hastily worn pants.

Jeongin chuckled at the sound of your loud snores, which could be heard even from the kitchen, before he reached into the shopping bag, filled with goodies from the tea shop. Smiling to himself, he collected all the dark maroon packets and quietly tucked them into a cabinet, to keep them absolutely safe and sound.

(And absolutely hidden from you.)

Taglist: @jiyeonslays @gimmeurtummy @hpnsfwaddict @yasuraokaa @sweatyracoon

[bunny-jpeg]

Hey bunny please can I get some Belgian waffles with a mince pie and a lemon slice with a margarita and a espresso shot (with Ghost) Ps: you’re one of the best COD smut writers fr

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i accept for all kinds of fandoms, so please don't hesitate to check it out! thank you! as for this lovely anon, thank you for the submission!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + mince pie ("i'm not jealous.") + lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + margarita (unprotected sex) + espresso shot (dirty talking) served by simon "ghost" riley (call of duty)!!

cw: smut/pwp, unprotected sex, jealousy, dirty talking, possessive!simon, creampies, wife!reader, (semi)dom!reader, cowgirl position. mentions of cheesecake

simon loved his missus. oh, there was no other woman quite like you. you and simon had be married for two years now and he still hadn't got tired of you. when you laughed, he smiled. something he thought he'd never do after the life of suffering he had. he believed his heart still beat because you loved the sound of it.

you were his wife, the lovely mrs. riley. and it took years of suffering for simon to realize that if he loved something. he had to hold is close. and with you, you were the closest to him.

which was why he was a little protective over you.

"simon james riley." you said with your arms crossed, "you are the most possessive man in all of this country. hell, maybe this entire continent! and don't think a cheesecake is going to make it all up to me."

simon slumped his shoulders a little, "love, please."

you crossed your arms tighter and eyed your husband, "simon. you told my male co-worker, quote, 'i cum in that every night'. you jealous fuck!" you threw your arms up.

simon attempted to defend himself by saying, "i'm not jealous.", he was a ghost on the battlefield. he handled more dangerous missions than the average special-ops soldier. he was battled bruised and scarred. but yet, under your stern gaze, he felt very human. where most assumed that the hulking size of mister riley meant he wore the pants in the relationship, it was quite the opposite, mrs. riley was the head of the house.

"simon. please. you know that i love you more than there are drops of water in the ocean." you dropped your arms, it was impossible for you to stay mad at him forever. he was your beloved husband. you got closer to him on the couch and dropped into his wide lap and took his square jaw in your delicate hands, "there's no need to get possessive of me."

he sighed and wrapped his strong arms around you. you held onto his face and guided it to yours. you kissed him on the lips and he eagerly kissed back. when he pulled him he cuddled you closer in his grasp and said, "it's not. it's them. i've seen every shade in a man. if somethin' happened to ya, love. i'd never be the same. i'd be a real ghost then."

"then don't make me send you to the afterlife because you keep telling people how much you finish in me." you said, shaking your fist at him. it wasn't totally serious, but it also wasn't totally joking. you knew simon worried, there was a reason you had your location on all the time when you went out.

you knew your husband had seen so much hurt in the world. the kind of pain that you couldn't wrap your head around. you had seen the scars from his father, caked into his skin. jagged and rough. even though they were buried under tattoos, you could still make them out. your husband's life had been rough, so you couldn't stay mad forever.

you placed your hands on his broad chest then gripped onto the front of his well loved navy blue shirt. you leaned towards him and gave him another kiss, "thank you though." you had to admit.

he raised an eyebrow and looked at you curiously. you were about to bite his head off and now you were thanking him?

"for wanting to protect me. i know it's only second nature for you." you patted his chest before you got up from his lap. you held out your hand to him, so small compared to his, "i know you love me, simon. even when you drive me up the wall with your... brash comments." you slumped your shoulders a little, "it feels nice to know that someone out there loves me."

he got up and took your hand. his hands were so rough and dry. they were like polar bear paws compared to yours. then again most things on him were bigger compared to you. he pulled you close to him and wrapped a strong arm around your waist. he looked down at you said said, "anythin' for you, lovie. you're my wife. i made that promise to ya, and i intend to keep it. don't like liars and men who don't look after their women." then let you out of his grasp to lead you to the bedroom.

you gave him a slight push onto the bed and he was already taking his shirt off. there was something about your husband being dominant that was a turn on. but, sometimes you wanted that control. and simon was more than happy to hand it over. like as he got undressed without you even having to ask. his strong body was exposed to you from his thick tattooed arms, to his dirty blond happy trail, to thighs that could crack someone's neck. he was so physically imposing compared to you. but you held his invisible chain.

you stood there with your hands at your hips, feeling simons' gaze along your body. you asked him, "are you going to be a good boy for me, si? be the boy i know you can be."

you watched that thick neck swallow and his cock stand a full mast. you giggled, the answered your question. you felt his gaze intensify on you as you undressed. exposing your curves to the man you married. you heard him shift on your squeaky bed.

once nude, you got into bed and straddled your husband's waist. he laid back onto the bed and watched you get on top of him. your pussy rubbed against his hard cock and you let out a soft noise. but when you sank down on his impressive length, he was the one making all the noises.

"shit, love. holy fuck. shit! shit!" he groaned as he buried his hands into your hips. not enough to harm you, but enough to feel closer to you. his words were silenced by your lips, tender and sweet against his.

"i'm sorry, what was that, si? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." you giggled, lips close to his. he could feel the jump in his pulse. you took him in for another kiss and moved your hips against his. his cock hit in all the right areas and it made him pant heavily.

his eyes could've rolled back into his head, "nothin', love. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for scarin' off your co-worker. i just, i just want to make sure you keep bein' my woman. my life."

you took a hold of his face as you moved up and down on his cock. you peppered his face with kisses as you moved, going across every scar on the flesh.

you moved against him, the friction made him see stars. oh, you were perfect. even with your size difference, you still took him so well. he was honoured in all honesty. you worked so hard, he remembered having to give you the dimensions of his cock so you could find a toy close enough to its size to practice on. while that wasn't a story told at your wedding, it did get him through a lonely two weeks in austria. knowing you were back home riding silicone to make yourself better for him (as if you weren't perfect).

he held onto your hips and let you work against him. he could feel the pounding in his chest at the sight of you. and you were the same way. you placed your hands on either side of his wide chest and moved up and down his cock.

big scary man reduced to pathetic moans and soft words by his wife's body. it would be cute if it wasn't so pathetic.

"see what happens when you're a good boy, simon? you get all this and more. your wife's pretty cunt. i know you drool for it every day. kick off those boots, get out of your mask and starting hunting to get a taste of me." you purred in his ear. it made him feel fuzzy all over.

you felt your heartbeat in your throat as you kept moving. you clutched onto the covers and really put your back into it. his cock hit so perfectly, it made you see star behinds your eyelids.

it felt so, so good. it lit a fire in you to make you two reach your orgasms. he watched your body work with him, rutting against him. it left warmth in your belly, and pooled into your limbs.

"i love you." you said.

"i love you too. fuck i love ya." he groaned as he felt the shudder of pleasure through his body.

such a rough man that would fold so easily for you. you rose and dropped your hips at a quicker pace. simon's pants were heavy as he watched you climax. as you arched your back and gasped into the air. your body went tense and it made simon finish inside of you.

cumming in your pussy settled a beast in simon's blood. that he had marked his beloved from the inside. it made a little something rise him that was settled when you slowed to a stop and rested your head against his shoulder. his cock was semi-hard and still nestled inside of you. you sighed contently.

"you are the most possessive man in this country, si."

he wrapped his arms around you as you let your bodies cool down. both breathing heavily from the after shivers of pleasure. he said softly, "yeah, love. but, only because you're my whole world. only a fuckin' idiot would lose you."

you looked up at your husband and kissed him on the lips, "well then, mister riley. i think there is an apology cheesecake in the fridge waiting for us. or at least me, since you bought it for me." it had slipped your mind earlier, but now you craved something sweet.

simon cupped your ass for a moment before he kissed you. anything for his loving missus. the woman of his life <3

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝐖𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

Pairing: Viltrumite!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: Discussion of the Invincible Wars, so series-typical violent topics. I don’t get detailed about it tho

Tags: Fluff, kinda slow burn tbh for being so short, went a bit of a different route with my interpretation of this variant – figured our boy could use a break from all that heavy stuff ❤️‍🩹

Word Count: 1,060

Synopsis: The world is ending, but for Mark, his life was only just beginning the moment he saw you.

Inspiration: ‘Thinkin Bout You’ by Frank Ocean

a/n: for my beautiful, perfect lovie @itsbuddhasbelly!! thank you for encouraging me with my dumb little works – it makes my very happy. :’)

One year ago

The world ended.

Or—something like it. Cities crumbled. Heroes fell. The sky turned black with smoke and fire. It was the Invincible Wars, they called it later. Like it was history. Like it could be measured and filed away and understood.

But when it happened, there wasn’t anything so clean about it.

You remembered standing on your front lawn, barefoot, clutching your phone with trembling fingers as the sky split open.

People ran. Screamed. Begged.

You just… stared.

And then he appeared.

Hovering in the air like something divine. Blood on his uniform, glowing eyes, an aura like gravity itself bent around him.

And then—he saw you.

It was like something paused inside him. The rage, the war, the mission—it all halted the second his eyes locked onto yours.

He didn’t kill you. He didn’t even threaten you.

He walked toward you without a word, as if drawn by a force he didn’t understand. You didn’t flinch. Couldn’t. Your body had forgotten how.

When he reached you, he took your hand, careful like you might shatter, and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

"You’re the most beautiful woman in the universe,” he said, voice quiet and reverent. “I’d know. I’ve seen it all.”

Your mouth parted, heart in your throat. But before you could speak, he released your hand and stepped back.

“I’ll come back,” he promised, simple but unquestioning. “I want to know you.”

Then he vanished.

And somehow, your town—unlike every other—was left untouched.

Present Day

He kept his promise.

You didn’t think he would, honestly. You thought it was some twisted fluke—some battle-weary god getting sentimental in the middle of a war.

But he came back.

Weeks later. Then months. Then more.

Sometimes he brought gifts. Rare things. Impossible things.

A blue flower that glowed softly in the dark and sang lullabies in a language you didn’t know.

A ring made of a mineral that couldn’t exist on Earth—it shifted colors based on your mood, and Mark refused to tell you how it worked.

A stone orb that projected constellations from planets light-years away—“This one’s my favorite,” he said. “I used to go there to think.”

Sometimes he just sat. Both of you on the porch, your legs swinging off the steps. He'd look at you like he was memorizing your profile. You’d pretend not to notice.

He always gave you space. Always let you speak first. And when you didn’t, he never pushed.

This particular night was quiet.

The stars hang heavy overhead, bright and unknowable.

He lands soundlessly beside you, a familiar presence now. You’ve long since stopped jumping when he arrives. He doesn't make grand entrances anymore—just shows up like he’s always belonged there.

He holds something in his hand. Another gift, probably. But he doesn’t offer it yet.

Instead, he speaks.

“Do you not think so far ahead?”

You blink. “What?” He’s quiet for a second. Then—

“I’ve been thinking about forever.”

The words hit you like gravity.

You should be afraid. Should remind yourself of what he’s done. Of the war. Of the blood.

But then you look at him—this godlike being sitting on your porch like it’s holy ground because you stood on it once. And all you can do is whisper, “Forever’s a long time.”

He smiles. Not a smirk. Not smug. Just… hopeful.

“I have it to give,” he says.

You watch him, heart thudding like it’s caught between stars and soil.

He holds something out. A small, smooth crystal, glowing faintly. When you take it, it's warm—alive, almost. Inside, a swirl of constellations shifts and dances.

He watches you with that same intensity he always has—like you’re something sacred. Like this moment matters more than anything else in the galaxy.

“It’s a Viltrumite bonding token,” he says. “We don’t really do ceremonies. But this… it means something.”

You look up at him, and your heart squeezes.

He’s so sure. So ready. So Viltrumite.

But you’re not. Not because you don’t care—but because you’re you. Human. Flesh and fear and caution wrapped in something just as fierce.

Your gaze softens, and you give him the faintest, sweetest smile. “This isn’t Viltrum, Mark.”

His brows draw together, ever so slightly. Confused. Almost… angry? Hurt?

“Here on Earth,” you continue gently, stepping closer, “we take things a little slower.”

For a second, his face falters. Just a flicker. Barely there—but you see it. That moment where centuries of instinct and expectation collide with something fragile. Something new.

You reach out, closing the distance between you—not just physically, but emotionally. You step into his space like you’ve always belonged there, like gravity’s been leading you both to this point all along.

Your hand brushes his chest, over his heart.

And then—gently, deliberately—you rise onto your toes.

The kiss isn’t rushed. It’s not some desperate, fiery collision.

It’s slow.

Intentional.

A quiet promise wrapped in warmth and breath and closeness. His lips part slightly against yours, like he’s surprised—like he’s never been kissed before.

He doesn’t move at first. Doesn’t push. Just sinks into it.

One of his hands lifts—hesitant at first—then cups your jaw with reverent care, like you’re made of stardust and the whole universe is watching.

You pull back, only just, your forehead resting against his. Your hand still anchored over the steady beat in his chest.

“How about we start with this?” you whisper.

He exhales, the sound shaky—almost stunned. Like he’s still reeling, like you tilted his axis and he’s trying to find true north again.

His eyes meet yours. There's no smugness there. No grand speeches. Just awe.

“Then we’ll start here. But just so you know… I’ve seen the future. It always leads back to you.”

It takes a second for the words to sink in. You blink, stunned, as if you’re not quite sure whether to laugh, cry, or kiss him again.

Instead, you just shake your head, a breath of a smile curling at your lips.

“You really are something, Markus.”

He leans in again, his hand still cradling your jaw like he’s afraid to let go.

And somewhere above you, the stars keep burning. Quiet. Eternal.

But down here—on this porch, in this moment—forever has already begun.