#I get yelled at and it's like fucking water torture

[david-watts]

gonna get screamed at for wanting to eat again :) like ok if I make myself a sandwich like I want to. I will be in massive amounts of trouble for using the fresh bread since well that's the only bread available aside from english muffins which I don't want to use because I actually respect the fact my m*ther bought those for herself and she rarely gets to eat most of them when she does that. I will also probably get called a pig. but if I make myself something else I will get in trouble because 'you ate such a big meal for lunch' and get called a pig again. literally cannot win

[soleilapproves]

Boxer!Sukuna loves to show off his moves to his crush aka his best friend (feat. Boxer!Toji)

Notes: sukuna is a jealous little hoe, Toji finds reader attractive, Pre-relationship, fem!reader (she/her), depictions of fighting so read at your own discretion. Uraume is a nonchalant baddie. Not proofread, I’m sorry for torturing you all.

masterlist

Thump!

A gloved fist lands against Sukuna’s tattooed cheek as he stumbles back into the boxing ring’s roped borders.

He quickly flicks off the sweat dripping down from his nose to his upper lips and gets back into fighting stance. His opponent / friend, Toji Fushiguro, smirks at him as he bounces in his spot, bracing for what’s to come.

“You’re boring me here, Ryomen!” The raven haired man barked from the opposite end of the ring. “Quit fightin’ like a pissy little boy and hit me like a man!” He further taunted his opponent.

Sukuna leaped from his spot and swung his arm only for Toji to dodge him with a duck and attack his legs.

“Fuck!” Sukuna yelled out as he fell down. His body bounced against the ground, force acting against him.

“Time out!” Coach Yaga yelled out. Toji removed his gloves and took off his helmet, lending out a helping hand to Sukuna.

Sukuna stared at Toji’s calloused hands and back at him. His glare deepened with every heavy breath he took.

He could not stop thinking about the conversation he had with Toji in the gym locker room a few days ago.

“She your girl?” Toji asked as he applied another heat patch to his sore shoulder.

“Who?” Sukuna asked while he packed his gym bag.

“The girl you came in with today. You know, the one who wouldn’t stop talking.” Toji chuckled as he said that. Sukuna’s eyes momentarily flickered away from Toji has he remembered how you were going off on a tangent about your favorite show.

“Nah, why do you wanna know?”

“I wanna take her out.” Sukuna’s hand froze after hearing Toji’s answer.

It never occurred to Sukuna that other men wanted to talk to you. He always thought that he was the only man in your life even if there wasn’t anything romantic between you two.

But then again, Sukuna had made it his mission to drive away any man that even showed a shred of romantic attention towards you. It was easy for him since he was a well known boxer that could probably smash concrete with one punch if he tried.

It was his favorite thing about being so strong.

However, it wasn’t going to work in this case. Not when his opponent was on par with him.

“You don’t get it, man. She’s not that kinda girl. She’s the relationship type and you hate all that commitment stuff.”

“I wouldn’t ask to date your friend if I wanted to leave her high and dry. I’m ready to do all that redemption shit now. I wanna get serious.”

Sukuna’s blood boiled at the thought of Toji even looking in your direction. What made him think that you would even say yes? You had hardly ever said three sentences to the man (the sentences being “hi, Toji,” “bye, Toji,” and “where’s sukuna?”)

But he also knew what Toji was like in the ring. A relentless fighter that was always ready to improve where he lacked. And he also knew what you were like.

All he could do was hope that you’d reject Toji.

“Do whatever you want. Fuck do I care about?” Sukuna shoved in his shower gel in his bag and stomped out of the room.

He pushed Toji’s hand away and walked out the ring to hydrate himself. Toji mumbled a quick “asshole” before heading out towards his water bottle right outside the fight room.

“You were exceptionally bad today. I believe there must be something emotionally affecting you.” His manager (more like henchman), Uraume said as they handed him a bottle of sugar free Gatorade.

“Fuck off.” Sukuna tiredly said as his leaned back into the leather couch facing the ring. The spotlights above him burned his retinas but his mind kept him distracted with thoughts about you.

The way you laughed at his banter with Uraume, the way you’d comfort him after lost matches, the way you’d stare at him with your arms crossed when he’d forget to text you.

Like you were doing now.

“Some nerve of you to leave me on read last night.” You huffed out in anger. Sukuna immediately sat up, rubbing his eyes. You were definitely real and standing in front of him.

You looked positively adorable with a pout on your face and your foot tapping angrily on the ground. If Sukuna didn’t have any self control, his lips would’ve been planted on yours right now.

“You said you’d bring me to the gym to watch your practice match and then forgot to tell me when your match was!”

You were lucky to have Uraume’s number and contacted them to get to the gym yourself.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll make it up-“

“Hey, nice to see you.” Toji sauntered around you, interrupting Sukuna. “This creep giving you any trouble?” Toji sneered with his hands on his hips.

“Yes, in fact, he promised that I could watch today’s match but didn’t even bother picking me up.” You complained to Toji, who was towering above you.

Sukuna could practically see Toji’s blood rush to his ears. The man was smitten and it irritated him to see that.

“Toji, get the fuck out of here. We’re having a private conversation.”

“She literally aired your dirty laundry in front of me, man. There was no privacy to begin with.” You let out a small laugh at Toji’s response and he proudly beamed in your direction.

Sukuna was going to further defend himself, stating that it was a conversation between best friends but Coach Yaga was quick to swoop in with smacks to both the boxers’ heads to resume their match.

The men went towards the ring, ducking under the ropes as they entered. Sukuna needed your eyes on him no matter what. So he did what he thought was best- take his compression tank off.

His chest gleamed with sweat as he threw the piece of clothing out the ring. The tank accidentally landed on Uraume’s face and their body began to shudder in anger. You grimaced at the sight as you used your pointer finger and thumb to pluck off the sweaty garment from their head.

Sukuna’s face turned red out of embarrassment

“Sorry, dude.” Great, he was supposed to look sexy but he ended up making a fool of himself.

“You know what? keep fighting like a little kid. I wanna make sure I win in front of the pretty lady before I ask her out.” Toji whispered in Sukuna’s ear before he wore his mouth guard.

The tattooed man was seething. There were so many emotions affecting him at the same time- anger, jealousy, sadness, and insecurity.

But then all of that was erased when he saw you intently looking at him while you stood next to an irritated Uraume. Not to mention, you were still holding his sweaty compression tank like it wasn’t something that would disgust any other person.

Sukuna wasn’t feeling as defeated as anymore. In fact, there was a new surge of energy in him when he saw you standing outside the ring with hopeful eyes.

He had an advantage over Toji because right now, the one you were rooting for was him. Not his green eyed opponent.

You were here to see him win. You were here to see your man- okay, best friend who’s a man, win.

And he wasn’t going to disappoint you.

Coach Yaga blew his whistle and both men began walking in circles, eyes staring into one another’s to predict their opponent’s next move.

Sukuna remembered to always wait for the opponent to make the first blow so he could dodge them. This way, he’d be able to expend their energy and use their one second of being distracted to his advantage.

Toji did exactly as he predicted and he countered his punch with a hit to his chin. You gasped and Sukuna could see you smile in his peripheral view (maybe he was imagining it but whatever. To him, you were smiling while he punched Toji).

Toji growled as his body moved backwards but he got back into position quickly and charged at Sukuna with a punch but Sukuna crossed his arms to dodge the blow. He wanted to hit but needed an in somehow. He began to think long and hard as he dodged Toji’s incoming punches.

His eyes momentarily landed on you and he couldn’t help but think about Toji kissing you after your date, his non-tattooed, muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Your breasts pushed against his chest as you gasped for air.

He imagined Toji taking you home, sleeping in the same bed as you. Patting your head as you fall asleep.

Sukuna could not let that happen. As selfish as he was, he could not let his sparring mate take away the one thing that mattered most in his life- you.

He landed punch after punch to Toji’s ribs and you excitedly clapped at the sight. The sound of your hands only further fueled Sukuna’s fury as he continued to batter Toji.

The fight went on for a quite a while, neither fighter giving in to losing. But by now, Toji had been punched the most and was beginning to lose his balance.

Coach Yaga’s shrill whistle squeaked and the match stopped before Toji could be rendered immobile. You wanted to feel bad for the man when you saw all the bruises on his face and body but you could help but smile when you looked at Sukuna. He wasn’t smiling but the look on his face showed he was satisfied.

Sukuna turned to find you smiling and he mirrored your expression.

Yeah, there was no way he was going to let you go. He was going to win every fight against Toji whether if it was in ring or for your heart.

-•-

I’m just adding lore to Sukuna and Toji’s rivalry in both boxing and pursuing the reader.

[bettyfrommars]

Whole Lotta Love

Eddie x fem!Reader

18+MDNI, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, pet names like baby and sweetheart, both Eddie and reader are over 20.

I received a request for a fic where, no matter how hard he tries, Eddie can't make you cum, and I was happy to do it because it's a much more common situation than how it's represented in most media. I'm not sure this is exactly what they were looking for, but it was a very fun thing to write. This Eddie had me giggling.

a/n: I wasn't sure I would finish this wip after I wrote the first two lines, but then I was in the mood yesterday and smashed it out. It was a very quick write, definitely not my opus, but a true joy, all the same. I hope you like.

wc: 3.1k

Eddie flopped onto his back, huffing out a satisfied breath. “That was so good,” he hummed. 

The fingers of one hand drew a lazy circle on his bare chest as it rose and fell, while his other hand scrambled over to capture yours.  

Shifting his gaze, he caught you staring at the ceiling, unblinking.  “Was that…did you…?”

“Um,” you paused.  It wasn’t that you were afraid to be truthful with him, but the fact that orgasms weren’t flying out of you at the same rate made you feel inadequate, like maybe you were the problem. 

He propped up on his forearm, searching your face, brow creased with concern.  “Did I hurt you or…?”

“No, no,” you rolled over, pulling the sheet up over your hips.  “It felt great.”

At that, he gave an actual sigh of relief.

“But, I didn’t cum.  Or at least, I don’t think I did.”

“You’re not sure?” 

You chewed at your top lip.  “No, I am sure.  I didn’t.”

He traced a few hearts on your shoulder with the tip of his calloused finger.  “Have you ever? With me?”

Your silence spoke volumes, and Eddie’s mind raced to all of the times you’d been intimate in the past few weeks since you’d been together.  He blamed himself for being too eager and sloppy, and shit—he was so crazy about you, it made him dizzy.  He couldn’t believe you let him touch you, let alone cum inside.  

His head snapped up.  “But what about that time I went down on you in the closet at Robin’s party? I swear I felt you—”

“I was close that time,” you admitted, remembering how your legs shook and that heat began to build, in the same way it did when you pleasured yourself.  “But then Gareth was shouting, looking for you and it went away.”

“Fucking Gareth,” he mumbled. “You were close then, okay.  Can I try that again? Now?”

He was already moving down the bed, palming the crook of your knee to slide your leg open.

You put your hand on his head, glancing over at the digital alarm clock.  “Not now, silly, I have to get ready for work.”

You wrapped the sheet around you and got to your feet, leaving Eddie to stare into space, alone with his tortured thoughts.  “Come over tonight?” He yelled while you were in the bathroom. “Wayne leaves for work at 6, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“I’ll come over,” you said with your mouth around a toothbrush.  You spat into the sink and then, “But I might be too tired for…other stuff,” your words were met with nothing but silence from the next room.  “We can watch a movie or something?”

Eddie appeared sullen in the doorway next to you in his checkered blue and white boxers. “Do you not want to have sex with me anymore?”

“No, baby I do!” You assured him, eyebrows high on your forehead.  You cupped some water into your mouth and spat it out while he ran his knuckle down your arm. “I really really want to, I just don’t want us to force this.  It’s okay if I don’t have an orgasm every single time.”

“Yeah but it’s not okay with me,” he muttered. 

You turned and planted kisses down his throat, dotting smooches along his collarbone, and then the final peck was on his pouty mouth. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, “I’ll see you tonight.  I love you.”

—------

You parked on the other side of Eddie's van at the trailer that night and assessed the windows curiously.  At a glance, it looked like the living room had caught fire from the amount of candles that were lit. The song Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin poured out into the soft yellow light of the porch, and you knocked.  

A few raps of your knuckles were met with a loud curse and something like a metal pot crashed to the floor in the kitchen.  No one came to the door, so you entered with caution, and your senses were greeted with the smell of something burning in the oven.

Eddie was by the sink and he spun around with a startled look, wiping his hands down his jeans. He wore a Slayer shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and his feet were bare, letting you see the black toe nail polish you’d delicately painted on a few days earlier.  

“What’s with all this?” You blinked a few times, marveling at how tidy it was.  But also, there were at least 15 mismatched candles ablaze on the side table, the top of the tv, and the counter. 

He wiped his mouth and went over to greet you.   “I just wanted to set the mood,” he grinned, grabbing onto your hips to pull you close. “I read somewhere that the atmosphere can help with, you know.”

“You read somewhere?”

“Just one of those magazines at the grocery checkout.”

“I missed you,” he smiled against your mouth as you said it.  His warm skin smelled spicy and sweet, like he’d recently showered and put on cologne. The yearning you felt for him was all-consuming.  A few hours apart weighed on you like an eternity.  You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, and already your loins were giving you the nod like, “yep, we need to have him inside of us.”  You absolutely craved him on a sexual level, so why was it so hard to find your climax?  It seemed to come easy for everyone else in the world: everybody at the party was cumming but you.  

Eddie was nervous.  He hadn’t felt that out of his mind since the day he confessed he had feelings for you, but if you didn’t feel the same that would be cool, because he didn’t want to fuck up the friendship: you were too precious to him.  Your presence in his life made him feel sane and loved and seen in a way he’d rarely experienced in his life, if ever.  A miracle happened that day, and you’d flown into his arms, asking him what took him so long.

But what kind of boyfriend would he be if he couldn’t please you? In every way?

You watched a sitcom while you ate dinner on TV trays, and when you came back from using the restroom, he had everything put away, dishes thrown in the sink, and he was sitting very propper at the end of the couch, watching you expectantly.  

“Are you, um,” he cleared his throat.  “How are you feeling?”

This was weird, he thought. He was making it weird.  He needed to loosen up and not be so hyper focused on his mission.  Maybe you were tired, maybe you needed to let your spaghetti and burnt french bread settle.  

You straddled his lap, brushing hair away so that you could kiss his forehead. 

“I think I’m ready to try again,” you whispered, and then you ducked down to nibble his earlobe.  “Unless you’d rather stay here and—”

Before you could finish the thought, he was up and the two of you were moving out of the room and down the hall, kissing and fumbling with clothes as you went.  

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he nipped your jaw and side of your neck, banging the bedroom door open with the side of his fist. “I hate being away from you.”

There were a few candles around the bed too; on his nightstand, and a red one dripped wax from the window sill down the wall.  

You stopped abruptly, staring at the bed.  “Are those…rose petals?” 

“Tulips, actually,” he rushed to the scene and swiped the soft pink curls away with his arm. “That was stupid, I just thought it would be—”

You caught his mouth with yours, tongues lashing at each other in such an erotic way that a small moan escaped him. 

He wondered if that night would be the night he came in his jeans.

He wasn’t going to let himself cum before you, that was the plan.  He’d jerked off shortly before you’d arrived, but that didn’t mean shit because he was absolutely ready again.  

Suck it up, Munson.

All was off but for your underwear and while Eddie licked greedily at one of your nipples, you reached down to undo his button fly.  “Release the beast,” you cooed.  

He caught your wrist.  “Not just yet, I can’t, I mean, I want this to be about you.”

“I need an even playing field if I’m going to be relaxed enough to…you know.”

He couldn’t get his pants off fast enough at the urging of your hand that was quick to breach the waistband of his boxers to stroke him. He was rock hard and the tip was already weeping, needy for you.  

“Is this all for me?” You ran your thumb in circles over the tip.

Eddie tensed and huffed out a breath that fanned the hair away from his face.  “Fuck, baby, every inch.”

If he wasn’t sharp, he’d cum right there on the spot.

You bounced when your body hit the bed, and Eddie dropped to his knees between your legs.  The visible wetness on your panties were taking a toll on his already fragile state.  He wasn’t patient enough to take them off of you, he just put his mouth right on the material, nuzzling at your pussy through the fabric in a way that pulled a few sharp gasps out of you.  

“I missed her so much,” he pulled back the final barrier with one finger, licking a few times on your swollen lips, and then cursed.  “You’re so wet already.”

“Well, that’s what you do to me,” you propped up on your elbows to look down at him, sucking in your bottom lip at the sensation of his breath on you.

He slid your underwear off the rest of the way, trying to recall what he’d read in that Playboy article he read a while back? Something about writing out the alphabet, and the woman you are with won’t make it to “x” without cumming.

“How does this feel?” His tongue rolled along your folds in a way that made you wonder what he was doing.  He lost track of the letters at around “M”, hips bucking into the side of the bed, cock pulsing so hard, he had to reach down and take some of the pressure off.  

“G-good,” you gasped.  “Just like that but then, up a bit higher.”

You weren’t exactly an expert when it came to your own pleasure, either, you only knew what felt good when you touched yourself.  If Eddie made you cum, it would be the first time you ever experienced that with another person.  You wondered if you should tell him that.  

He followed your instructions, swallowing while he consumed you, until he found the tiny pearl treasure at the top and your grip tightened on him.

“Hmm I think I found it. Hey there pretty baby,” he murmured into your cunt rolling his tongue around the spot. 

“Yesyesyes, right thereeeee Eddieeee.”

The pressure and the speed was perfect and your hand went to his head for encouragement, but then he slowed down and moved locations, licking up the arousal that dripped down  your slit.

“Baby? Could you go back to that thing you were doing a second ago?”

He compiled without a word, trying to find the same pacing again, but the moment was gone. 

“Eddie—” you spread your legs wider as an invitation. “I really need you inside of me now.”

Well, he wanted that more than anything.  But one pump and it would be all over for his dignity.  His eyes were rolling back, seeing cartoon stars just thinking about it.  

Truth? He wasn’t going to make it.  

You noticed his hesitation.  “We can keep trying…after.  But I need to feel you.  It’s lonely up here.”

“You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he crawled up onto the bed, kissing along your stomach, up between your breasts as he went, and then nuzzled at your neck.  “My dick can wait until—”

But he choked on his last words when you took hold of him and rubbed the tip of his length along your wetness.

“Sssshittt,” his whole body trembled. 

Sliding himself in, becoming one with you, made him emotional in a way he’d be embarrassed to share with anyone else. 

“I love you so much,” your voice came out as a cry when he sank halfway in, locking eyes with you.  The stretch made you squeeze around him, eliciting a whimper from so far back in his throat that he wondered if it came from somewhere else, some far off place. 

Once he started to move, he thought about that sweet little pearl and lifted up enough to put his thumb there and move it around.  Your head went back and  you exposed your throat to him.

Eddie grimaced at how close he was, fuck that—he had to slow down.  The way he was touching you, it was making you stiffen like you had when he was on his knees, and he was taking note of everything.

But then you started telling him how bad you needed him to cum, to fill you up, to make you his.  He tried to hold out but then his eyes locked onto yours when you told him you loved him again and he couldn’t stop the wave once it started, no matter how hard he clenched his jaw and his buttcheeks.

One long babble came out of him as his thrusts got sloppy.  “Oh fuck I love you so much I’m cumming so hard, I’m…I’m…holy shit I love you.”

He didn’t ask if you had come that time, because he knew better.

After he caught his breath, he pulled you with him, twisting onto his side, slipping two fingers where his cock had been.  “What if I push all of this cum back inside so it will stay there? Hmm?”

You moaned against his mouth, grabbing a fistful of his hair.  “That feels good, keep doing that.”

“You like that?” He asked, just to be certain.

You nodded, and then, your hand slotted down between your bodies and his arousal spiked when he realized you were touching yourself.  

He curled his fingers to feel that soft, spongy spot, asking how fast you wanted it.

You couldn’t speak, your concentration was intense, eyes screwed shut. 

Oh sure, he was getting hard again.  The feel of his warm spend in your tight hole was doing nothing for his resolve.  

You clenched around him, and then he was whispering, “let me try again,” as he kept his digits buried and made his way down between your thighs.

His mouth had no trouble finding the treasure that time; it practically peeked up at him, begging for a resolution.  He relaxed his shoulders, breathed in the musk of your arousal, and took you into his mouth with a vibrating groan.

“Right there!” You hadn’t meant to scream it, but it was an actual eureka moment.  “Oh fuck Eddie, don’t stop…keep doing…keep doing that.”

He hadn’t moved his fingers in a while, but when he tried to incorporate that into the mix, you stopped him.  “Keep them still,” you held his head, locking him in place—not that there was anywhere else he wanted to be.  “Don’t move your hand just…Ahh yes yes…”

Your jaw went slack in a silent scream, but then his pace quickened, and before you knew what was happening, the blinding white wave crashed through you, rolling through your limbs like satin electricity, making you whine an extended, “cummingcummingcumming,” while you clung to his hair so you wouldn’t fall off the earth. 

Eddie was astonished to learn that could feel it happening.  The juicy walls around his fingers spasmed, fluttering like tight ripples, and he drove his tongue in eager circles, wondering if he could make you cum twice in one go.  Was that even possible? His heart all but flew out of his chest, it was beating so fast, and he moaned long and hard.

But after a bit, you were trying to push his mouth away.  “Wait wait, now it’s sensitive,” but he was so determined, he didn’t pull off until you physically lifted his head.  

He stared up at you, licking his wet, swollen lips.  

You were breathless, letting the final bits of glitter swim through your veins.  “That was—”

He kissed your cunt one two three times.  “That was what?”

He was grinning now, feeling like he’d just won the lottery, or at least a new car. The sense of satisfaction was officially unmatched.

He made his way up the bed to hold you, but you surprised him by taking his fingers into your mouth to suck them clean, dragging teeth along his flesh.  

“I’ve never cum that way with anyone else before,” you said in a whisper, but when he finally registered the weight of the words, his eyes widened.

“My sweetheart,” he pulled you flush against him, giddy, holding your face to brush his lips over yours. “I’m really your first?”

You gave his shoulder a teasing love bite. “And my last.”

“Oh nowww you’re in trouble,” he rolled on top of you, interlacing his fingers with yours to brace your hands above your head, and then he went to work munching at the side of your throat, growling as he did so.  

You screamed and giggled, realizing he was hard again as it nudged at your hip. “I see you’re ready for battle again.”

“I was born ready, baby,” he straightened to see your face. “You want to try a new position? I was reading this—”

The front door to the trailer burst open.

“What the hell? Edward? You tryin’ to burn the place down?”

It was Wayne.

Shit shit shit shit it was Wayne!

Home hours early from work, for whatever reason.

The door to the bedroom was wide open and his heavy footfalls were rapidly approaching from the hall.

Eddie threw the sheet up over you, and a few tulip petals fluttered to your face.  “I’ll be right there!” He shouted, trying to jump into his jeans. He missed a leg hole and stumbled back onto the mattress, making you snort out a laugh. 

He got to the door just in time to greet his Uncle, blocking any view of the room, buttoning his pants as he stood there.  

You could hear Wayne’s voice change. “Is, ah, is your girlfriend here? Sorry, I didn’t see her car.”

“No that’s cool, we were just—” and then he maneuvered him out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

You lifted up to listen to their murmuring voices, and then Wayne asked, “why is there wax all over the carpet? Blow these fuckers out before the curtains catch fire.”

You had to bury your face in the pillow to muffle your laughter.  

[luvyeni]

SOMEONE FLIRTS WITH YOU 𖹭 엔하이픈 ( reaction ) !

genre yandere 𖹭 warning — murder , mentions of blood, kidnapping , jays bar is complicit to so many murders parings enhypen hyung line x fem reader | back to library .

— what they do when someone flirts with you.

request: could u do enhypen legal line yandere reaction to another guy sexually flirting with u?

「 authors note 𖹭 」 i hope you like it !

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

he's gonna kill them, but he wants to see them suffer first , he kidnaps them; hides them in a warehouse he uses to kill , that can't be traced back to him either. he withholds food from the guy , then water slowly killing them , but not all he does , he also beats them. all while the person is begging to be freed , or killed after a few days of torture , to which he just smiled and continues his beatings. heeseung may even go as far as to free them from their restraints, letting them go and when they go running towards the exit , he fires his gun , one shot to the persons head and down they go.

next is to get rid of the body and quickly, so he can quickly get home to you.

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

jay owned the club where the creep harassed you, he saw it go down , so no one bats an eye when his men drag the man away from you , and all the way back to jays office , his office with the sound proof walls. the guy begging that he was sorry and he didn't even know you were taken. "pl-please i'm sorry i didn't know she had a boyfriend , I was drunk." jay rolled his eyes watching him lie. "does it matter if we weren't together? you still harassed a lady in my bar , this time it was my last you harassed." he said. "see any decent guy would've probably knocked you cold on to the ground , unfortunately you got me." he said. "and i'm not as decent." he gave them the words , before his men proceeded to beat the guy to death.

"someone go get my baby girl , clean this mess up when you're done."

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

jake is emotionally unstable when it comes to you , so when he sees someone flirting with you , he goes into a blind rage , he doesn't remember following the guy into the bathroom of jays bar , all he remembers is tearfully bashing the guy's head in between the stall door , sobbing, not because he's upset at what he's doing but because he fully believes you're gonna leave him for this guy , that's why he has to kill him so he can't take you from him. "she's mine." he cries , blood is everywhere , jay is gonna be pissed at him for making such a mess , this one is gonna be hard to clean up , but he can't help it.

"she's mine and you're not gonna take her from me."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

kills them , sunghoon doesn't even wait , making sure no one sees him , it's jays bar so he knows there's no cameras , he follows the guy into the alley, hitting the bastard harassed you on the head with a bottle , pulling out a knife to cut his throat before the guy could even yell out for help , walking back into the bar , looking for you. "let's go." he grabbed your arm. "let's fucking go now." he drags you out the bar , he's not pissed at you for once but you don't know that and he doesn't want to let you know that.

"i handled it , but you won't be going out for a while , i'm not mad at you."

©LUVYENI

[uzurimisery]

bitter frost, honey i'm coming home. / logan howlett x reader / nsfw

warnings: MDNI, angst, p in v, mention of vomit, makeup sex, death (not character), thoughts of suicidal ideation, sappy emotional sex, old man cums quick, Logan yells at reader, smoking, knotting (not a/b/o)

wc: 9k

A/N: I do not know brevity. This was only meant to be 4k max

It’s cold on the ranch now. The first frost came barrelling through, ice crystals hanging on the barbed wire fences and freezing over the troughs out in the pasture. Days on the ranch start early, often before dawn, the first rays of light peeking over the crest of the mountains, painting it pink and golden. He’d step out into the crisp morning air and go to the barn, where he’d feed the animals. The chickens were too loud if he didn’t feed them first, the two roosters crowing till he did, so they went first. After the chickens, it was time for the two horses and the cows. After three years of doing it, he moved with practiced precision. Scattering hay, pouring oats, and spreading seeds are all mindless tasks. 

Logan had to venture out on Weston, a reliable but honorary son of a bitch, with an icebreaker to free up the water for the herd. Then, he had to head into the barns and ensure they weren’t frozen. He should pull out the heated troughs, kept convincing himself he’d do it next weekend 27 weekends ago, and now it was necessary. His back ached a bit at the thought. Pulling out all the equipment and placing it was a full day's job with just himself doing it. He was getting a fucking headache just thinking about it.

It’s not that he wasn’t strong enough. He was just old. He was far too old to run a ranch independently with so little help. Each winter felt a bit long as if there was too much work. Maybe he had grown lazier, too, over the years. No more fighting and not working at Xavier’s school; he was just living on the land now. Cattle ranching. Felt like an All-American cowboy when he had on wranglers, flannel, Justin boots, and some hat he had picked up at the tractor supply store a year back. The hat had seen better days, and the ridge was beaten up and dented from all the times he’d fold it in half and tuck it into his back pocket. He didn’t bother with a jacket, be far too warm that way. 

The ranch was quiet, save for the sound of cattle and horses. Now, the yellow pasture stretches out from the start of his property line on the road to near the base of the mountains. His little private valley. At first, the quiet made him anxious, like he was waiting for another catastrophe to come and tear it apart. That he’d wake up with someone trying to kill him, and all too often, he’d close his eyes and envision all the torture he’d been through—too much pain and suffering in his life. 

The quiet also gave him too much time to think about everything he’d done. Everything he’d lost. He was a man who had known mainly suffering for all his life. Sometimes, he felt he didn’t deserve this peace, this serenity. It was dissonant. He was a fighter, a soldier, a weapon made human to kill and kill and kill again until the only color he knew was red, the only scent he smelt iron, till the collar around his neck pulled so tight it’d break it.

His hands ached, claws threatening to come out as he worked himself up, the sting of vomit on his tongue. The back of his knuckles split open like they weren’t even there, like there was no skin or muscle for the adamantine to cut through. Like it didn’t hurt every time it did.

Weston whinnied under him, tired of lazily trotting around the barn to check for coyote marks. He wanted to gallop around the outskirts of the land while Logan sniffed out any danger to the herd. Didn’t need a cattle dog when he was a glorified one.

“Yeah yeah, asshole.” His spurs dig into Weston’s sides, urging the horse into a gallop. He might as well get the morning round done now. 

The horse broke into a gallop, bouncing Logan in the saddle, wind whipping him in the face. For a moment, the noise in his head quieted. There was no constant thought of you, just what he had to do after rounds. 

As they reached the fence line, Logan scanned the horizon, senses on high alert. He knew he was never looking for just coyotes or stray animals; he was always searching for something more. A threat that might never come. Some bullshit hopped-up mutant on a vendetta or some power-hungry human looking to use him.

Now, at a canter, the two patrolled the whole property line as he took deep breaths, inhaling the cold air, trying to focus on the present. On the life he had here. Not what he had left behind. But the past is never far behind, and he had so much past to run from. It would always be near him, lurking in the shadows. The ranch could never drown it out, cover it up, and make him forget. Maybe it was just another reminder he could never truly escape who he was, no matter how hard he tried. 

“Easy now,” he murmured, pulling Weston to a stop near the far edge of the property. He could see everything from here. It was beautiful and peaceful, but all he could feel was the weight of what he was missing. 

Sometimes, he swore he smelt your perfume on the breeze.

“Let’s head back.” Weston turned around, ready to run the way back toward the barn. This routine was the only thing that kept him sane. The work. The responsibilities. Barely enough to keep him busy but not enough to keep him from sinking too far into the darkness in his thoughts. 

He’d gotten lazy the past week and fallen behind on the hay maintenance, so he’d need to buck it today. Move it all from being covered under some tarps to the hay barn. Move them all one by one. He was glad that 150 pounds felt like nothing to him in times like that. 

The chicken coop also needed a roof repair. The last storm did a number on it. Logan bought the supplies the last time he was in town. It just meant stripping the old one off, resecuring the waterproof liner, and hammering the steel roof. Maybe he’d add some more insulation next weekend in preparation for the winter. 

Today was going to be a long one.

───※ ·❆· ※───

A knock on the door echoed in the ranch house, slicing through the quiet thrum of the fridge kicking on and the TV volume on low. He wasn’t expecting company as he stopped mid-swig of his beer, brow furrowed. The neighbors knew by now to leave him the hell alone and had enough run-ins to steer clear of him unless it was an emergency. There were no ranch hands due to arrive until next Monday. 

His boots thudded with heavy steps as he rose from the couch and walked over. The tips of his claws cut through his skin, the metallic ring soft as he reached the door.

He grabbed the handle, ready for it to be blown off the hinges by someone knocking it down.

“Logan, it’s me.” That's a voice he’d recognize anywhere, unmistakable and achingly familiar. The one he longed to hear to the point it drove him crazy. The one he dreamed of every night, of all the terrible things it had said to him because of what he’d done. Heard it in his sleep and his waking hour like a fucking ghost haunting him.

“Can you open the door already? I know you’re in there.”

He blinked as he did, trying to grapple with his emotions brought to light by the reality of you standing there. 

“What?”  his voice cracked. “What are you doing here?” 

You looked so sad, a deep sorrow in your eyes—the kind that had been there when the two of you had argued the night before he left. It made him feel like he missed something crucial like you had lost a part of yourself—one that settled deep in your bones and moved in your muscles and ligaments.

“Charles told me where you were.”

His throat felt painfully tight, as if the words were squeezing his neck. He didn’t expect this- hadn’t expected you to ever ask Xavier where he was and come see him.

Neither of you moved, the door half-open as he stood blocking it.

“You ain’t supposed to be here.”  His tone was gruff. He had been smoking more since coming to the ranch, trying to dull his brain.

Your voice was steady but filled with so much sadness it made him want to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Plead with you to transgress his sins. Go to confession and tell all his wrongdoings. “I needed to see you again.”

He looked out into the driveway, seeing nothing but emptiness.

“Did you fly over here? You don’t even have your suit on.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a shrug, “it’s dark out anyways.” 

He stared at you. The porch lights set a soft, warm glow on your skin, the panes of your face made clear. You looked beautiful, mesmerizingly so, as you stared up at him.

“You gonna let me in or not?” 

“Don’t get comfortable,” he grumbled, his tone softer now that you were closer. He opened the door wider, letting you walk past him.

He had the fire going, for which you were grateful. Flying without your suit always left you frigid afterward, especially since Logan had taken to living in the middle of nowhere nestled in the Rocky Mountains. You had always been jealous Storm didn’t have to deal with that. 

The ranch house Logan was living in was quaint. It was a three-bedroom, two-story house built in the 1880s that the previous owners renovated in recent years to feature modern amenities. The floors creaked as you walked, clearly still the original hardwood. He hadn’t done much decorating. It was clear that Charles had been the one to decorate the place for him.

He wasn’t ready to see you. Ready to talk about why he left you in the middle of the night four years ago. 

You quickly found your way into the living and dining room. Logan had left pocket doors open in these two separate rooms. Sitting on the couch, you could see through to the kitchen. A large pot was on the gas stove, the flames flickering on low. It smelled like beef stew.

Logan lingered by the entrance to the living room off of the entry space, unsure of what to do next. Watching you settle into the beat-up couch made him feel a mess of relief and anxiety. He was glad to see you were okay. Your hair was shorter, and you must have cut it after he left at some point. Grey hairs were coming through at your temples. 

“It’s, uh, good to see you.” Having his eyes on you like this made you feel small again. Like he was leaving you all over again.

Logan nodded, swallowing hard. “You too.” 

You smiled at him, and it hurt. Cut him like a thousand glass pieces over and over again. He was getting sandblasted and healing through it. 

He walked into the kitchen, trying to distance himself from you and his feelings, and stirred the stew. “I wasn’t expecting company,” he commented his back to you.

Your hands wrung together automatically, anxiety creeping up your throat. Maybe it was a mistake to come here and see him again when he had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do to you the night he left. “It’s fine, I don’t need to eat.” 

The wooden spoon clatters against the rest, and he puts it down harshly, making you wince. “Nonsense. I can hear your fucking teeth chattering from here.”

“I’m fine, really. It's just wind chill.” 

“Just take the damn food!” Logan bellowed, his hand slamming down against the counter, breathing heavily. “Just take the damn food.” 

You were silent for a moment, reeling. He’d never been like this with you before. “Okay.”

Logan closed his eyes, took a deep breath through his nose, and pushed it out of his mouth, trying to steady himself. He didn’t mean to lash out at you, to snap, but just seeing you again put him in confrontation with his past and his own feelings. It was more than he could handle. He grabbed a second bowl from the cabinet, ladling the stew between the both of them. Even after all this time, he took care to give you more potatoes than beef and half his carrots.

“Come sit at the table. Don’t want soup on the damn couch.” 

You moved quietly, always did. It unnerved him when he first met you. Your mutation lets you float more than walk and never hear any footfall when you move. He sat across from you, and you could finally get a good look at him. The years had never been kind to him, but he seemed older now than ever. The past three had been the worst of his life. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and the wrinkles on his face seemed more pronounced. 

The silence between you was thick with unspoken words, cut only by the scrapping of metal spoons against ceramic bowls. The sound echoed in the quiet house with the TV now shut off.

As you finished up your food, he looked antsy. His left leg bounced up and down, hand strumming on the table.

“Thank you for the stew.” you pipped up, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah, well, you look like you needed it. " Despite all these years, he still cared for you and loved you. It was evident to you. 

You both sat there momentarily, the silence returning but now filled with different tension. The possibility of reconciliation hurts more than anger.

“Why did you come here?” he puzzled. “After all this time, why now?”

You tapped against the bowl, inconsistent drumming on the sharp ceramic cutting against his ears. “I needed to see you.”

“Bullshit, what do you want”

“Jesus, Logan,’ you finally snapped, lightning crackling as you did. He acted like the wounded party when he was the one who had left you. “Am I not allowed to want to see you?” 

You didn’t mean for it to happen. Far past the age that your powers slipping up due to your emotions should be embarrassing. Static electricity builds up around you.

“You left,” you continued, to reel in your emotions, to keep them in check. “You left me without a word, without an explanation, and now you’re demanding an answer as to why I'm here? Do you have any idea what you did to me?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as he looked to the side. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have this conversation with you. Not now. The night he left, you felt like he was ripping out his own heart, running from his feelings and the truth about the world around him.

It was like he was on autopilot as he stood from the table, knocking his chair off balance as he went. Like a bull in a china shop, that’s how he moved. He could hear you talking and feel the vibrations in the air, but none of the words meant anything. You were begging him to just sit down and talk to you, a pleading whine in your tone. 

But he couldn’t.

Just like the last time he saw you, he walked out the door with nothing but the clothes on his back into the night down the porch steps. 

The screen door slammed shut as you walked out after him, your body trembling with the intensity of your emotions, your hair standing on end from the static. He never told you what was wrong or why he did what he did. He just left. Tears blur your vision as your back hits the siding of the house, sinking down.

“Logan!” you yelled, calling out after him, voice breaking. “Please just talk to me!”

He didn’t turn around. His figure grew smaller, illuminated by the porch lights flickering from your lack of control. It felt like your heart was breaking again. The ache of his absence, familiar and painful, made all the more unbearable by seeing him again. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

“I’m staying here till you talk to me.” 

When he finally came back to the house, knowing all too damn well, he had to take care of the ranch, that was the first thing you told him. He didn’t like it but found it hard to argue with you and Charles. It was impossible to change Charles’ mind; he knew you were too stubborn to leave. So he let it happen. 

Letting you sleep in the guest bedroom across from his was easier. It felt like he slept better since you had shown up. Even if you woke him up in the middle of the night, the floorboards creaking in protest under your weight as you went pee around 4:15 a.m. every night.

He’d lie in his bed, now fully aware of the space in it next to him, listening to the sounds of the house. The gentle rise and fall of your breathing, the ticking of the clock downstairs, the wind outside. He would never admit it, but you being there gave him a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. The night terrors that plagued him endlessly seemed to ease. For the first time in a long time, he could close his eyes without fear of being swallowed up and spit out by the past. 

During the day, you had a tentative routine with him, and he woke up earlier than you did. It had only been a week since you had shown up. You had left at one point to fly back to the school and get some of your belongings. Every morning, you’d go out to the chicken coop, collect the eggs, and make breakfast. It was nothing fancy, some variation of a bread product, eggs, and a protein. Sometimes, it was pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Other times, it was steak and eggs. Today, it was omelets. 

You’d help out in other ways, too. Go out and move the steer to a different part of their sectioned-off pasture. You were faster at de-ice the troughs, flying, and whatnot, so he let you take over that job. It was hard work, and your muscles ached like they hadn’t for a long time. 

Logan had to admit it’s helpful having you on the ranch. He’s got a greenhouse and some therapy project Charles talked him into, but that’s been looking worse for wear. The weather pattern changed the past couple of weeks, and there’s been an inversion that has left the valley with no direct sunlight. All the plants inside had started to wilt and were on the path to dying, not that he cared. He’d survive without some tomatoes. Then you threw open the door, solar energy pouring out from your palms, and they’d perk right up. You had that effect on plants, hell, people too. 

Something about you, even if you didn’t have your mutation, would have made you shine as bright as the fucking sun to anyone. All wild curls and big smiles, a helping hand to those in need—just one of those people who made the world a better place by breathing. You always said you were just doing your part, but god, there was so much good, so much sweetness in you. If he took a bite, he’d even get a cavity. Seeing you wrapped up in an old wool sweater of his, bent over coaxing a plant back to life, made him feel so ashamed of himself. 

“The plants in the greenhouse look a lot better this week.” 

Some of the leaves crunched underfoot, but most of them were soggy in the mud as you walked over to the steer barn where he was working. One of the steers had a rock impacting his back hoof, and he had to get it out. Logan had just finished spraying it with salicylic acid and wrapping it as you walked in. 

“Like I said, you don’t need to be doing all that.” He grumbled, standing from the stool and leading the cow back to the enclosure. 

Where he spoke dissent and anger, you heard what he really felt. Fear. He was still that little boy in his father's manor.

“It’s not a problem.”

It hurts to be this close to him and not have him, to know that things could just be better if he were honest. 

You'd cook him dinner in the evening, sit at the old wooden table, and comment about the school. About what you’d been up to. You steered away from the elephant in the room. It was best to talk about the mundane things. Sometimes, you’d slip and tell him something more personal than you meant to. He didn’t add much to the conversation because he hadn’t been doing much since leaving you, but he’d chime in about the animals. About the fox that kept creeping around the chicken coop.

Logan still had moments of withdrawal, times when he’d just disappear from the ranch, and you wouldn’t see him till the morning. It was hard on you, a reminder of just how much had changed between the two of you. You used to come home to him after a day of teaching and collapse into his arms on the couch. He’d offer you a sip of his beer, something dark and hoppy, and you’d taste it and declare it’s gross. Logan had told you one day, he’d find a beer you liked, and he’d stock the fridge with it. The closest you’d gotten was some Mangocart IPA that he told you was meant for 17-year-olds, and you told him to go fuck himself. 

Healing wasn’t a straight path forward. And healing couldn’t start until you cut out the festering parts. You can never go backward, but you must go forward while looking at the past. 

The two of you sat on the porch tonight, twilight hues, deep indigo taking over the sky, and the stars coming out. The first night you were out here with him, you couldn’t stop staring at them. Had a whole thing about them since they charged up your mutation, but he just thought you looked gorgeous. Older but still gorgeous. 

That was another thing that scared him. You are aging. He didn’t know how long he had left to live, hell, if he could even die. Some wounds should have killed him many times over, but they never did. They never do. But he's seen you bleeding out and broken after a fight with Magneto, a laceration so severe you had to self-cauterize the wound on the spot and passed out multiple times while doing so. You were getting older, and he was staying the same. 

You were 24 when the two of you first met. Your parents were good folks, never held any bias towards mutants, and helped you learn to control your powers and keep yourself hidden from the government when they were still rounding up mutants. The only reason you got found out was because of Cerebro and Charles. With so little training, it should have scared him how strong you were back then. A few years with Charles, and you were deadly. Deadly, but a pacifist. 

The air was cold. You could see your breath as you rocked in the rocking chair he had out there. Wafts of pungent tobacco hit your nose as he lit up a cigar. He had stopped when you lived together. You looked over at him, feeling the weight of his eyes on you. As soon as your own met his, he looked back out into the night sky. The silence was heavy.

“Do you ever miss it?” you asked softly. 

“Miss what?” he drew another drag from his cigar.

“The school. The kids. The…purpose.”

“I think about the students daily. It was good work. Important work. But…” Logan trailed off, searching for the right words. What were the right words to say without telling you everything? “It got complicated.”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken part of his statement, drawing your knees to your chest. “It’s still important. And the kids still need you.” 

After all this time, you still wanted him. Despite every wrong he had done to you and all the harm he caused you. The most pathetic part of him was ready to take your kindness, love, and care and bathe in it. Draw you back into the bottomless pit of his life and ruin you like he had all the others. 

You saw him clench his jaw. A twisting wave of guilt and self-loathing ate him up. A man made to destroy and he was afraid to destroy you too.

“The kids will be fine without me.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, they’ve been fine without me so far.” He shot back, but there was a hollow note in his voice. There wasn’t any gumption behind it. 

“They’ve managed, but that doesn’t mean they’re fine. You gave them something no one else could, Logan.  They relied on you, they needed you-they need you.” You corrected gently, reaching out to touch his thigh. He was always so warm.

He took another drag, blowing the smoke away from you. “They’ll move on. They’re better off without me.” 

“They didn’t move on, and they aren't okay without you.” 

Logan looked down at your hand on his thigh, his expression a mixture of pain and something else. Something so soft, buried deep beneath the layers of hardened exterior. He didn’t pull away, but you could see his temptation rising.

“I’m not me without you, Logan. Please just talk to me.” Your grip tightened, the denim rough under your fingers, and you begged him to let you in again. To tell you why he left you, why you haven't heard from him since.

He needed to keep you safe from himself.

“You should leave.” Standing from his chair, he threw open the screen door, letting it slam shut behind him as he walked over to the living room. 

You rose after him, chasing him into the house, your heart pounding in your chest. The floorboards cracked up the both of you, echoing in the house. He moved with a desperate, frantic everything. His broad shoulders tense as if he could outrun the conversation you were about to have.

“Why won’t you let me care about you!” You cried out, voice breaking, trembling with the weight of the emotions you've been holding back. He didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, but kept going, and your words spilled out like a damn bursting.  “I am begging you to let me in, to let me love you, to stop pushing me away like you do every time! You left me. In the middle of the night, you left. I woke up, and you were gone. And all I have ever asked of you is to let me love you.”

From behind, he looked like a man barely holding together as he reached the living room.

“I don’t want you to.” he ground out. Each word hurt to say, and he hated lying to you. 

“We both know that's a lie, Logan. I’m not stupid. I know you love me. Just please let me in. Why won't you let me in?” 

“Because I don’t want you to wind up fucking dead!” His voice reverberated off the walls. “Everyone and everything I have ever loved is buried six feet fucking deep, and I don’t want you to join the shithole graveyard that is my life.” 

Logan’s voice cut deep through the room, his shoulder hunched as he leaned over the back of the couch. The sob was settling in his chest as he tried to keep it at bay. He didn’t want you to see him crying. It was like he could see you now, lying in that grave, another name added to the long list of people he’d killed or gotten killed.

“You think leaving me is protecting me? You think that by pushing me away, you're saving me?” You hated being an angry crier, the tears welling in your eyes. “I’m already in this. I’ve been in this for years. You leaving didn’t save me—it fucking broke me.”

“I just,” his breath was shaky, knuckles white against the couch as the wood splintered from his grip. “I can’t lose you too.” 

You stepped closer, a hesitant hand hanging in the air a moment before it made contact. Slipping over his back, meeting your other hand in the front as you hugged him from behind. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, voice soft and thick with sadness. “I’m right here, and I’m not leaving. I’m not letting you leave this time.” 

He shook his head, tilting it backward to keep the tears from falling. “You don’t understand. I keep telling you that I’m cursed, that everyone who gets close to me, everyone that I love,” the crack in his voice hurt you, “ends up dead. And I can’t let that happen to you.” 

“You’re not cursed,” you mumbled into his back. “You’ve been through hell, but you deserve a chance at happiness and love.” 

His shoulders shook as the sob he had been holding back finally broke free. He crumples against the back of the couch, wrenching at his waist as his head meets his hands. You went down with him, following the curve of his back with your front, holding him tightly as he cried. 

“I’m here,” you cooed into his ear, your tears cresting down your cheeks. “I’m here, baby.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” he choked out between sobs. 

You tightened your hold on him, wishing that the pressure could soothe his aches and worries and make him feel whole again. That it would wash away all the suffering he’s been through and wipe it from his mind, even if you knew that pain was part of what made him him. 

“Yes, you do. You deserve love and happiness and to find that with me.” 

“I’m just going to hurt you again, like I have before.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me-”

“God dammit, I’ve killed people,” he stood up straight to face you, his voice jumping in volume, shaking you off balance. As you stumbled, he reached out, a hand on your hip to steady you. “I’ve killed so many people that it’d take them years to find all the bodies that I’ve fucking piled up in my 230 years of life. I am a fucking mess of a man who is so goddamn broken, and I don’t want to drag you down in the mess that I have made.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around your face as he did. His beard was grown out, the greys now outnumbered the black, jaw trembling as he spoke. 

“And just when I think I can start to be okay without you in my life, you show up, doll, and it ruins all that progress I made, if I even fucking made any in the first place. Make me realize just how damn much I need you. And how much I am so fucking scared of losing you because I can’t take it if I do.”

You reached up, hand cupping his face against the scruff of his beard. “I know that I’ve always known the life you lived before meeting Charles, and it doesn’t scare me. What scares me is the thought of you shutting me out and living out here on your own till you die. You’re not this terrible monster you think you are. Yes, you’ve done terrible things, but you’ve also done so much good in the world. You’ve saved just as many lives as you’ve taken.”

His eyes softened, tongue darting out to wet dry lips that stuck to his teeth. 

“I can’t change who I am. I can’t be someone you deserve.” 

“I’m not asking you to change.” 

His other hand met your hip, both of them squeezing them tightly as his body shook. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” you promised. It was easy to promise that to him. As much as he needed you, you needed him. “You and me, we’ll get through this, and all that's to come.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. 

For a long while, he just stared at you, listening to your heartbeat, his eyes searching yours, looking for any doubt or lie in what you said. Fearful you’d sweep the rug out from under him and leave. He couldn’t find any indication of the sort. All he could see was how much you loved him, how much the distance between you had hurt, and how badly you wanted him to let you in.

Logan let out a shaky breath before pulling you into a kiss. His facial hair tickled your face as your lips met. It was intense as his lips moved against yours, his hands sliding down to your ass to pick you up and hold you. You could feel all his longing, desperation, and the despair he had been holding back. His lips were chapped from working outside, not caring for for himself like he should be, but you didn’t mind.

It sent a shiver down your spine, having him so close after so long. He was so warm against you. Your hands slid up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Logan groaned as you did, parting his mouth enough that your tongue could meet his. 

The kiss deepened. You could taste the salt of his tears mingling with your own. His grip on your ass tightened, pulling you flush against his body like he was afraid you might disappear. His mouth moved hungrily against your own tongue, nearly forcing yours into submission as he held you close.  He felt like a man starved. 

You matched his intensity, trying to pour all your love and care into the kiss, your lips moving together in a way that felt both familiar and new. Hoping that enough of your love could spill into his cup and fill him so full it didn’t matter what spilled out his cracks. There’d be more poured in every second. A rediscovery of what the love between the two of you had been. 

The two of you have to part far sooner than he liked, your lung capacity smaller than his own. His eyes were still wet with tears as he watched you, your chest rising and falling as you gulped down the air. 

He leaned in towards you, placing a small kiss on your forehead as he rested his head against your own, moving your ass to rest against the back of the couch. You had changed your conditioner; it smelled like honey now, but no matter how fragrant it was, it couldn’t cut through the smell of you to him. You smelled like home. 

“I’m sorry, doll.” his voice was a murmur against your scalp, heavy with regret. If hammer home the point, he’d bend nail after nail into soft wood, splitting it down the middle with how much metal he’d drive into it, just how sorry he was.

“I forgive you.”

Somehow, he gripped you tighter.“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“I know you will.” you pulled away from your position tucked against his chest to look up at him. “Kiss me again?”

He compiled without hesitation, his lips finding yours so tenderly. It was slow, deliberate, a melting of his body with yours. A promise, shared understanding, a soul tie that bound the two of you together.

Pulling away, his eyes met yours, and all he could see was love. 

“You gonna take me to bed or what, big boy?” 

Logan moved quickly up the stairs, taking two of them at a time. The promise of having you again was all the incentive he needed. He missed you. The way you felt under him, the way your pussy felt against his dick. How you fluttered around him every time he angled just right, how you smelt. He'd been jacking off to the thought of you for years now, and finally getting to have you again was like a fevered dream.

It wasn’t graceful the way he swung open his door and tossed you on the bed. You bounced a few times, mattress springs creaking as you did, before propping yourself up with an eyebrow raised, questioning him. No doubt he’d never hear the end of it; could hear you nagging him now. “A spring mattress? Logan? You’re made of metal. You can't have a spring mattress. You know this.” 

You raised a finger, curling in towards yourself, beckoning him closer. He was a dog on a leash for you, moving like a well-trained animal. If they’d found you during Project K, he would have listened to every command they gave. Hell, he’d roll over right now if you told him to. 

His knees enclosed your legs as he crawled over you, dog tags slipping out from his white tank top and dangling in your face. You smelled like him. His body wash and house, mixed with your fruit conditioner. Underneath it all, he could just smell you. The salt on your skin, the heady scent of your arousal. Logan lowered himself, tucking his head into your neck, and took a deep breath, groaning at the smell of you.

“Need you logan.”

That was something he’d missed. That pitched whine in the back of your throat you got when you were all horny and needy for him. Your voice turned raspy and low, caressed his ears so smoothly, and it made him want to purr like a fucking cat. The cadence just scratched an itch in his skull, setting his nerves on fire. 

With a low growl, he cradled your face in his hands, thumbs tracing over your cheekbones, relishing the heat coming off your skin. The little bumps and scars that crossed your skin felt like home to him, a map he’d always know how to read no matter how many years passed. He leaned in, lips meeting yours, and it just felt right. It always felt right. He was stupid for trying to run from you all this time. 

Your fingers laced in his hair on the nape of his neck, fingernails scraping his scalp. He groaned low,  wanton, animalistic, your tongue meeting his own in a warm, wet dance. Logan devoured your lips, his hunger for you impossible to sate. It was messy, desperate, the way he clung to you. Grabbing your waist and lifting you closer to him, you felt like a feather to him, all soft flesh and curves against his hard angles. 

He pulled away from the kiss, moving along your jawline and neck, stubble brushing your skin, making it more sensitive than it already was. Not stopping at your neck, he continued down over your collarbones and the expanse of your chest, all the skin he could access in the v-neck you wore. His fingers tugged at the hem of your sweater, pulling it over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra, perfect fucking nipples already perking up for him.

Logan leaned forward, his lips closing around your nipple. You gasped, back arching off the bed, the cool metal of his dog tags stinging against your skin. His tongue swirled around your nipple, fingers digging in at your waist before he pulled away with a pop, your chest heaving. You always looked so beautiful coming under him, over him, beside him, any position in which your naked body was near his and your flesh met in sinful desire.

“Oh,” his voice was ragged like he had fought all his battles and wars at once. “Oh god, doll…”

Testament and faith could be read about in books and studied. The Bible could teach you of Jesus’ preaching, but true faith, true trust in the unknown, could never be read about. It had to be felt and experienced. Logan slid to his knees, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed as he went. The fabric of your leggings felt too thick, separating him from his worship. He could smell you through them, through the lace of your panties. Heady, musky, a whine rumbles through his chest as his face falls against your thigh, nose pressed against the fast of your pussy. He breathes in deep, savoring your scent, his mouth watering like he can taste you.

“Doll, please,” he begged, opening his bloodshot eyes, his voice needy. “Let me taste you?” 

“You don't have to ask, Logan,” you replied, smiling. “I’m yours, always yours.” 

Logan hooked his finger into the waistband of your legging and panties, tugging them down in one swift motion. The cold air of the room met your skin as he did, but you didn't have long to think about it as he parted your legs, and his hot breath made contact with your pussy. His mouth hovered above for a moment, just wafting in your scent, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“Fucking love the smell of this pussy.” he murmured to himself, a low growl, before he dove in, tongue parting your folds.

Wet muscle slid between you so easily before swirling around your sensitive clit, teasing it. His hot breath ghosted over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers flew to his head, trying to find purchase in his hair as he went. Logan was ferocious. He went from your clit to your hole, delving inside you, trying to taste every inch of you. He grabbed your hips, tilting them upwards, making you squeal as he opened his mouth wider on you. Working himself into a frenzy, growling, the vibrations amplified by his adamantium skeleton. It rumbled through you, low and deep, like the base setting of a vibrator.

He takes a second, not quite remembering the perfect rhythm for you right away, but he gets to it quickly. Starts playing with your pussy like a fine-tuned machine the way he has you gushing in minutes. Your wetness coats his tongue, and that engine is firing.

Each stroke, each flick of his tongue on your clit brought you closer to ecstasy. The stars might power you, but he’d have you see them tonight. He devours your pussy like a man starved, primal hunger driving him. You couldn’t fight back, not that you wanted to. All that you could do was let him keep going. Let him take you to the edge. Push you past it. Over it. Your breath hitches, heart pounding in your chest so hard you feel it in your temples.

You push his head back, abdomen muscles flexing, a thick line of spit and arousal connecting Logan’s mouth to your pussy. His pupils were blown wide, eyes unfocused, hungry. A red, ruddy color spread across his cheeks. He felt hard enough to cut steel with his length, rutting against the bed. They move on their own accord, desperate for friction. There’s a growing wet spot of precum at the front of his darkening blue jeans.

“Cum for me, doll, please, I need to taste it.” That low vibration of his voice made you whine, hips bucking against him.

Logan spread his tongue flat and mercilessly kept going at your clit. Your moans grew louder, fingernails digging into his scalp as he manhandled you around like you weighed nothing. He gripped your hips tighter, tilting them further, ensuring he had better access to your pussy, before taking your clit in his mouth and sucking on it. An involuntary squeal came out of you as the added pressure made your back arch. 

The suction made your stomach drop, and your toes curl. He kept swiping his tongue side to side, little pulses of suction in time. It left you writhing and gasping. One of his hands released your hips, moving so that he could slip two fingers into your wet hole. You were so soaked he met no resistance, walls clenching around his digits as he slid them in, desperate for something to clamp down on. The pads of his fingers brush against your G-spot, and the lights of the room glow brighter as you begin to lose control. You’re so close so quickly it feels like you can’t breathe from how overstimulating it was. 

You push his head back, abdomen muscles flexing, a thick line of spit and arousal connecting Logan’s mouth to your pussy. His pupils were blown wide, eyes unfocused, hungry. A red, ruddy color spread across his cheeks. He felt hard enough to cut steel with his length, rutting against the bed. Your vision blurred, light filling your eyes, your only point of focus in the world, his mouth on your sensitive pussy.

“Taste so goddamn good,” he licked his lips, breaking the strand before diving back in. Your legs shook, thighs clamping down around his ears. You were so close, you could taste it. Logan picked up the pace, his tongue rapidly flicking over your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering hole. 

The room was filled with sloppy, wet sounds of Logans eating you out mixed with your cries of pleasure. He presses your pussy harder against his face, moaning as he does. You clench around him, body drawing tight like a bow as your release nears, his fangs scrape on the fat of your pussy lips.  It's like you leave your body for a minute, your ears ringing and your heart pumping. Every nerve in your body is lit up.

Logan reaches up to grope at your breasts, and with a pinch of your nipple, you cum with a loud moan that startles the cows, the lightbulbs exploding as you do. Your body trembles and shakes, juices gushing onto his palette like a tall glass of iced tea after a long day of work during the summer, and his thirst is quenched, but his appetite is only hungrier. You felt like you were melting, pleasure pouring out of you.

“Fuck,” you sound winded, “I haven’t had that happen since I was 24.” Your smile shows crow's feet, crinkling comforts near the sides of your eyes as you smile, really smile at him for the first time this week.

“Getting old, kid.”

“Oh, shut up!” 

He ducks to the side to dodge the pillow you throw his way. 

“You want to keep going?” 

“With you, I don’t ever want to stop.”

His eyes go all soft at the corners, caught up in his feelings. “Promise you won’t ever have to again.” 

“Good.”

He picks you up and places you up on the center of the bed, grabbing the pillow you threw at him to place under your hips for support. His clothes come off, and his blue Wrangler jeans drop to the floor with his tank top and boxer briefs. The dog tags stay on. He knows you’ve got a thing for them.  They glint in the dim light, steel catching your eye.

Rough, calloused hands slide up your legs, starting at your ankles, and he kneels between your legs on the bed. He folds you nearly in half, hooking your knees over his shoulders, his hip meeting yours. You feel the curling wisps of his pubes tickle against the back of your thighs. Always been a hairy guy, told you it's how he was so warm all the time. It makes your stomach flutter.

Logan leans down, capturing your lips against his own in a kiss before lining up his pre-cum soaked tip with your entrance. He eases into you with a hiss, your walls squeezing him tightly. The length was never an issue, he was only about an inch and a half above average, but it was the girth that made your jaw go slack and droll pool out the sides as he fucked you. The stretch is delicious as he slides inside you.

The first inch yielded a slick gushing sound from your pussy, while the second made you gasp, and the third had your walls tighten around him, taking his and your breath away. The stretch felt so good with how fat of a cock he had. One that felt so much girthier than you’d ever imagine it to be. His cock twitched, heavy, inside you, his pulse beating in time with yous.

“Jesus, princess, you’re squeezing me so tight. Relax,” he rolled his hip about halfway in and still meeting resistance.  Relax.” It came out like a pant. Fuck you were so tighter, like a vice around him. He wanted to take it slow, cherish you, show you how much he’d been missing you, but he was an old dog, and he wouldn’t last that long with how bad you were squeezing him. 

Your hands gripped the sheets, nails cutting the threadbare cheap cotton ones he’d been using for all these years. “Too much Logan.” You could barely breathe, let alone get the words out.

“You can take it, doll, remember?” he groaned, finally sliding in, flesh meeting yours in a wet slap. Your poor little hole stretched to the max as you whimpered. “See? You can take it.” Logan emphasized each word with a thrust of his hips. 

He felt his control slipping, thrusts starting to pick up, super strength coming into play. It coiled deep in his belly as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. “Feel so fucking good. Oh fuck. You’re so perfect, perfect little pussy.”

Logan’s hands move to grab your breasts, pushing them together. He plays with your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger. His pace is brutal, and the position allows him to hit that perfect spot on your gummy walls that has you seeing stars. He’s all grunts and whimpers, silver tips eclipsing the skin of his knuckles. It gets to the point he wants to go faster, the need to cum inside you far too great, and he lets go of your tits and balances himself on the bed. 

The base of his cock swelled, his knot beginning to grow. This was the part you missed the most. The way he’d stretch you out so good on his dick, only to then slip his knot inside you and stretch you even further. 

“Ain’t gonna last much longer, doll.” 

You moan, reaching down to play with your messy clit. It’s so wet between your legs it’s hard to find any purchase, and the sensitive nub slides back and forth so easily. The bed creaks, the wood floors groan, and the bed frame slams against the wall. He’s getting rougher by the second, his knot starting to press against you. 

“Give it to me, I’m ready.”

Logan thrusts forward, his knot sliding in with a satisfying pop, your words spurring him on. He pulses, cock swelling impossibly large before he cums. Thick, hot white ropes paint your insides as he stutters and groans, nearly growls, dropping to his elbows and forcing your knees to your chest. His hips don’t stop moving, still rutting up into you as you play with your clit. You just need a little bit more to push you over the edge. 

His voice is gravely in your ear as he careens over you, half squishing you with his weight. “I love you.” 

It’s the emotion of the moment that makes you cum. Tears in your eyes and love in your heart. Love is a lot like faith, blind trust in the unknown. A bishop can train his whole life, be a theologian, a scholar of the bible, know all of his god’s teachings inside out, and have less faith than a man who’s lived through hell. Putting your trust into the unknown and praying that good comes back to you. You felt like you were finally home, like that piece of yourself you’ve been missing for years is clicking back into place.

Logan didn’t know romance. He was gruff and awkward, snappy at the random way things. But he stood on the outside when you walked along the street, never let you carry anything, and opened every door for you. Never bought you flowers because he hated the local guy who sold them. But he picked them for you daily on his runs. Didn’t ever wash your laundry, but he folded every piece of clothing you owned and hung up all your shirts, all of it, just because you mentioned hating folding clothes to him once. 

He’d never be able to admit to you how much you meant to him fully. When you came into his life, he was close to ending things. There had been so many dark, endless days that only he remembered now. Horrors beyond human comprehension were his burden, shadowing his every waking moment until you came walking into his life.

There’d be a conversation in the morning that probably would rise into an argument. He’d likely storm off, and you’d be there waiting, telling him to get therapy, and this time, he would. This time, he’d go talk to a shrink about the mess in his head and sort it out for you, for himself. This time he wouldn’t fuck it up and leave you in the middle of the night. He’d have the difficult, uncomfortable conversations that activate his fight or flight. 

You were soft under him as he lifted off of you, still unable to pull out due to his knot. He rotated the two of you so you were on top, your chests pressed together as he lazily traced your spine. 

“I love you too.” 

“I love you more, sunbeam.” 

“Oh, absolutely not. You know I hate that name.”

©️ uzuzrimisery

thank you @txjis for beta reading

[zvdvdlvr]

Why’d You Have to Wait?

🔥 - synopsis. You get kidnapped on a case. Aaron’s coping mechanism? Self isolation. But when you’re recovering, Aaron wonders if staying away from you is the right thing to do. Jack convinces him anyway. Are things too far gone for Aaron to fix?

🔥 - warnings. Non descriptive torture. Scars. Burns. Very vaguely described mental issues. Slow burn. Friends ro enemies to lovers? Sad hotch. Angst. No happy ending.

🔥 - author’s note. Doing a part two. Hopefully this doesnt flop :)

Aaron had dreams about it now. They were so vivid- lifelike and real. Every time he had them he woke up in a cold sweat, heaving in the bathroom as tears dripped slowly down his face.

He hadn’t gone to the hospital to see you. In fact, Aaron hadn’t seen you since the day you almost died. He rode in the ambulance, but tore himself away from the hospital as he watched the doctors wheel you into the operating room. Your blood had stained his hands, face, and arms for days. Every time the white spots danced in his vision after emptying the contents of his stomach, he swears he can still see the glossy red liquid drip off his fingers.

You were well like. Not only by the team but by Strauss. She had given the team the time off to help y/n recover: sit in her room after another surgery, cheer for her during physical therapy.

Jack loved having time to see his dad after school, but he knew something was wrong after consistently hearing him pad to the kitchen during the middle of the night.

Tonight was no different.

Jack sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. He blinked owlishly around the room and stood up. The little Hotchner slowly followed the light to the kitchen and saw his daddy lean over the sink. “Daddy?”

Aaron turned his head and tried to smile at Jack. Aaron knew he probably looked a mess. “Hey buddy. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Before Aaron could set down set down his water cup, Jack crawled up the seat and watched his dad over the counter. “What’s wrong, daddy?”

“I just can’t sleep,” Aaron shrugged, facing Jack with his arms crossed. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

Jack looked at Aaron as if he had grown two heads. “You get up in the night a lot, daddy. And your eyes are red. You cough a lot too.“

Hotch wanted to laugh. Of course Jack knew something was wrong- he always knew. “Yeah. You’re right, kiddo.”

“You yell when you sleep sometimes too. What happened to y/n, daddy? She doesn’t come see me anymore.”

Aaron shuddered as he inhaled. Smart boy. “She got really hurt, buddy. It’s bad. I guess I just… get scared thinking about her getting hurt,” Aaron admits, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest.

Jack nodded. “Can we go see her?”

“I- I don’t think we should. She’s still getting better.”

Jack furrowd his eyebrows and tilted his head. “But I miss her.”

“I do t- I bet she misses you, too, Jack, but I don’t know how she’s doing. She might still-“

Jack sighed. “But daddy, she’d be so happy to see me!”

Aaron sighed. As much as he selfishly wanted to see you, he couldn’t. He’d do something he wasn’t proud of- embarrass himself, ruin his reputation of being a mentally and emotionally tough boss, ruin your friendship… No. Aaron couldn’t go by himself, but Jack could go with him. Why hadn’t Aaron thought of it before?

“Okay,” Aaron relented. A smile tugged at his lips when Jack’s face lit up. He scrambled off his chair and collided into Aaron’s legs and squeezed.

“Can I sleep with you tonight, daddy? Aunt Jess always stays with me when I have a nightmare.”

Aaron bent down and picked Jack up and nodded. “Yeah, buddy. Let me brush my teeth again.”

Jack wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and squeezed, as big of a hug his little body could give.

— 🔥

The days were all a blur for you. Now that you were all fucked up, nothing felt right anymore. Second defree burns crawled up the calf of your left leg. Small cuts littered your entire body, scarring and twisting your skin. The worst part was the long, twisting scar that started on your cheek about two inches away from your ear and pulled down to your collarbone.

The unsub, Barney MacMillian, was a sadist. A stupid fucking sadist. He thought he was punishing you for hunting him when he kidnapped and tortured you.

You know the team tried- they really really did try- to cheer you up, to get you back. But the fact that you now considered yourself a monster and how you started to believe the things MacMillian had whispered in your ear as he tore you apart, layer by layer.

Derek genuinely thought your scar was badass, but learned not to bring it up. Penelope just kept rehashing everything- something you had eventually told her to atop doing. Prentiss was cautious, testing the waters. But she eventually got back into a rhythm with you as your best friend. JJ didn’t do anything wrong, she was just really nice- too nice? Spencer was… himself. And you couldn’t thank him enough for just staying him, recitinf facts about burns and scars, knives and blood loss. It was morbid, sure, but you were always close with him and the way his brain worked.

Rossi was the one that kept you together through it all, though. He had conversations with you, long past visiting hours. He talked with you about anything and everything and somehow knew exactly what you needed to hear or talk about. But he kept making excuses for Aaron.

Aaron. The romantic feelings you kept trying to flush away turned into hurt every time Rossi’s eyes flickered away from yours when you asked about him. But you knew now. He didn’t care. He never would. That’s why he didn’t show. It’s the only plausible explanation of why he wouldn’t show up, shoot you a text, something.

So you turned your hurt into anger and stopped asking, ignoring the way your heart would drop to your stomach and how the acid in your stomach churned eveey time you heard his name.

You already had your resignation documenta stored neatly in a magazine in the second table in the nightstand to your right. You were done with it all.

— 🔥

That’s why you felt tears prick in your eyes when you saw Jack Hotchner leap into the room. His little eyes scoured your face, eyes dragging down the healing skin on your face. You heard Aaron’s footfalls stop short at the door. Your jaw clenched and you stared at Jack, waiting for him to start crying and ask to leave.

But he didn’t. He just smiled and leapt into your arms, completely unaware of the physical pain in your leg and body. He just wrapped his arms and legs around you.

You sat still, eyes looking at Rossi, who smiled at you. You hadn’t yet looked at Aaron and didn’t even want to. Carefully you wrapped your arms around Jack’s back, ignoring how fast the tears left your eyes.

Jack pulled back and looked at you with a smile that faded the second he saw your tears. In all of your time (almost 10 years) at the BAU, Jack had only seen you cry once. And that was during a movie. 

“I thought coming to see you what make you happy,” he sad, voice sad. “Why are you crying?”

You smiled at him, sniffling pitifully. “I’m not sad, little J. I am really happy to see you,” you said. You hoped Aaron would hear the sharp undertone in your voice. Judging by Rossi’s huff of a laugh, he did.

“Oh! Well, I brought you stuff. I know you like the Black Widow because she’s really cool, so I brought you a coloring book,” Jack explained as he brandished his backpack full of stuff. You listensed intently, only looking up when Rossi got your attention and nodded to the door to signal him leaving.

Jack kept talking and you were overjoyed to listen. He was a pleasent little man, making your time more enjoyable. He opened up the coloring book he bought and started coloring after giving you a Beanie Baby he had that you mentioned you liked. He also got you a necklace- that Aaron no doubt spent a pretty penny for- that had your birthstone set in it. Jack watched you carefully as you opened it, and he put it on with his chubby fingers. You didn’t tell him that you would have to take it off soon after he left so it didn’t kill you when you slept. Hospital policy or something.

Soon after you finished your own coloring page featuring the Black Widow and Tony Stark making a hero landing, Jack turned on the T.V. and fell asleep.

“Hey,” Aaron said finally.

You nodded. “Hi boss.”

Aaron bit his lip. You stared forward, hand threading through Jack’s hair. Aaron felt his heart clenching in his chest. He didn’t know how you were gonna react when he came by, but he didn’t expect this- this silent treatment. He didn’t really blame you though. He wanted more than anything to make it up to you, to get you smiling again, but he knew the distance was probably better. For him at least.

“Y/n-“ Aaron started.”

You cut him off with. “Jack’s asleep, sir. It would be best not to wake him.”

Sir. You only called him sir if you were mad. Aaron swallowed. He knew he fucked up. Would he ever be able to fix his mistake, bring the old you back? He pondered the questions as he leaned back in his chair and watched the television show Jack chose before he fell asleep.

— 🔥

“Y/n is getting sent home today,” David’s voice crackled through the phone. “We wanted to take her out to dinner, something nice. Are you coming?”

Aaron sat at the kitchen table, checking over Jack’s homework. Jack himself was sitting a couple feet away on the couch. “Probably not. I have Jack.” 

Rossi scoffed on the other line. “She loves Jack and he loves her. Bring him with you.”

“I don’t know,” Aaron sighed. He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. “Dave, she hates me.”

Silence. Rossi exhaled and shook his head. “She doesn’t hate you, but you’re giving her a lot of reasons to. Clean yourself up and meet us all at the address Garcia’ll send you. 6:00. Be there, Aaron. If not for her…” he trailed off, considering his next words carefully. “Then for Jack.”

— 🔥

David convinced you all to wait until ordering.

But when 6:45 rolled around and Aaron didn’t show, you just clenched your jaw and ordered a neat whiskey.

[col0rlord]

Helpful to me

Sum: Paige can hear you from the other side of the wall and wants to join the party in your bedroom.

Warning: Mature contents ahead 18 plus

--------

Knock

Knock

Knock

On my door around 11:53pm. I opened it and there she is in all her glory. Paige Bueckers 

“Hey. Are you busy?” she asked, leaning on the door frame. She was always like this when she came to my door. Asking for things and flirting with me to get my way. She stood above me about 4 inches looking down, smirking. She knew what she was doing.

It was like she was staring into my mind. Lord if she knew what you were thinking you think you would never show your face again. 

“What is it?” I asked, trying to shake the thought out of your head. Trying to act as if I wasn't thinking about her in ways every other girl did. I just get to live this torture she does everyday. Her standing there and staring down at me and licked her teeth as her mouth was open.

She put her controller up and waved it around. 

“Batteries, Double A.” She said smiling. I walk away from the door leaving it open for her to walk in. Walking in looking around as if she isn't here everyday asking for something. Looking through you drawers for the extra batteries. Not finding them.

Oh. my. God.

“Shit, give me a minute.” I say running to my room. I used the last two for my use and my pleasure. Pulling a box out from under your bed and pulled two out from my bullet, unscrewing the bottom and letting the last two fall out. I threw it back in the box quick and shoving it back under the bed. walking to the living room to see she was just inches from my door frame. Laying them in her palm she was holding out. “Here are my last two. You own me batteries.” 

“How about I own you something better other than that little thing you took these out of?” She said. This was nothing out of the ordinary for her. I just shook my head playfully, smiling and pushed her out the door.

“Knock if you need me. Or moan. I will get the memo.” She says winking as she closes the door.

Later that night when I was trying to sleep all I could hear is Fortnite gunshots and yelling over and over for her to only getting second.

Still getting the flashbacks of the earlier events. I feel that pool start going. I lower your hands in your sleeping pants. Feeling how wet I am from just the thought of her. This wasn't out of the ordinary for me either. Rubbing on your clit as I close my eyes, picturing it was Paige running her hands down your body and touching me. I curse her name and moan as I dip two fingers inside myself.  

I moan out her name and a string of stutterers. The nerves I hit as you run your fingers over the bud and jolts of pleasure run up your body. I feel yourself closer to the high as I slowly drag my other hand and grab my tits. Rubbing my thumb over the bub and moaning louder. I was so lost in my fantasy I created. I hadn't realized the gunshots and the yelling have stopped.

I feel my high coming to a peak and waiting to tip over the edge. Watching as if a glass of water was to be poured on a growing flower and it grow from ever drop. I was so close I was practically begging myself to cum as if it was Paige I were begging for. Who am I kidding? I was begging for her to come in here and take me away form my own work.

“Paige please, yes. Oh my god...fuck... yes right there please don’t stop. I’m about to cum-”

Knock

Knock

Knock

Then it was gone. Oh my god whoever it is better tell me the building is on fire.

I walk to my door and open to see a sight of the girl I was just rubbing my clit and fingering myself to.

“I need your help.” She said with her hands in her pockets and looking back up from the floor.

“Meet too” I say as I grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. 

After I pull her inside I slam the door behind her and push her against it and kiss her deeply and messy. She kissed back and lifted up my shirt, taking it off and grabbing my tit.

My hands find the back of her neck and pull on her hair a little in the back. She pushes me back into the counter and lifts me up on top of it. Kissing all up and down my neck and on my collarbone leaving markings. Moaning at her touch and sucking around my neck. Holding her head as she goes down and licks my nipple and all around them till my chest is covered in her brand.

"This is what I like to see. What I have wanted" She said pulling away admiring what she did to me

I can’t take the teasing and whine for her to touch anymore. As she is kissing me she is working on my pants trying to wiggle them off my body and down my legs throwing them on the ground. Kissing all down my stomach and thighs looking up at me. She licks the first strip up my folds. As her tongue flattens and glides between me. She rolls her eyes and moans. God I could hear her moan all day long. Its like hearing the water crash to the shore the first day of vacation. She sucks my clit in her mouth and holds my legs to lay on her shoulders. Wrapping my legs around her head to hold her closer as I cum down her mouth and neck. I throw my head back and hold her closer begging her for all she has in her.

I lay my back down to the counter and the cold marble sends chills down my spine and Enhances the feeling for the heat coming off my body from the moment.

I feel her push a finger inside m at hand.e and remove her mouth from my swollen clit. 

“Is this what I was hearing on the other side of my wall? Moaning my name out as if I wasn’t able to hear you from my room. I told you I would come if you need anything and I meant anything. Should have done this the first night I heard that pretty mouth moan my name” She said as her fingers went inside of me slowly. I grabbed her hand to make her go faster but she pulled away. Coming back and pushing two inside me this time “Oh baby, you are so tight and wet for me want to hear those whines all night long. I want the people to hear you moaning my name again and again.” She said as he picked up her pace with her fingers.

“Fuck Paige please I need to cum on your fingers. they feel so good inside me. better than I imagine .” I moaned out and looked her in her blue eyes. She wrapped her arm around my stomach and pressed down as she curled her fingers up. Right when she did that I let go of everything I was holding in. Waiting for the perfect time to cum and let it build up for the best high. nothing can ever feel better than this moment right now

“Good girl, coming all on my fingers. God you taste so good baby. I have been dreaming for this moment. Everytime I hear you with your little toy I just can’t help but think of how that could be me pleasing you. How i could do so much better than anything and anyone” She said as she came back up to kiss me. Tasting myself on her lips. She pulled back and licked the rest off her lips.

"We can take the rest of this to my place tonight. only if you want to come inside, because I know I want to come inside." she said as she helped me off the counter and picked up some of my clothes that where laying on the ground.

"Lets continue this at your place then shall we?"I asked as I snatched them out of her hands and put them back on.

[amourtoken]

I will be the brave soldier that tackles this concept that others may be too afraid to tackle 🫡

I was gonna do one big post for the whole group but the Noah part took over so I'll split it into individual parts for you. Here's some stepbro Noah for you 💀

Anyway let's get into it I feel like im virtually stalling lol. Apologies if this is insanely long it may or may not be the longest thing I've ever written so forgive me if it's rambley or not that great.

CW: stepcest, mean/annoying ass Noah, oral (M receiving), dacryphilia, choking, spit, belly bulge, raw sex, facials, squirting, fingering, nipple play, mentions of breeding, Dom Noah ftw always, oral fixation, slapping (just in general, face and pussy yk), and if I missed any others pls let me know

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

♡ The day Noah moved in to your dad's house was the worst day of your life unbeknownst to you at the time. He seemed tolerable at first but it took zero time for him to become a raging asshole that lived to torment you it seemed. He always blasts music late at night, is constantly yelling while playing video games with those obnoxious ass friends of his that like to come over and somehow act even more unbearable and he has the audacity to walk around YOUR house like he owns the place when he's only been here for a few months. What a cunt.

♡ Noah loves teasing you as well. He's got a couple years on you and is SUBSTANTIALLY larger than you so somewhere in the back of his mind he feels like you're easy to manipulate and manhandle the shit out of cause he's older, bigger, stronger, ect. He likes the way your voice pitches up in a yelp when he walks by and smacks your ass hard enough to bruise, he couldn't resist, not while you had those little shorts on. He also doesn't think twice abt it being "weird" or anything, he really doesn't even see you as a relative at this point, you're both grown and you've known eachother for like 6 months at the most. The fact his mom wanted to bang your dad has no effect on his life aside from the fact he had to up and move to your city.

♡ every time your parents give you two the house alone, it usually goes one of two ways. Either Noah invites those previously mentioned friends over and you get to listen to them practicing new songs in your living room until your head throbs from the volume or Noah invites some random tinder girl over to fuck half to death while you get the pleasure of listening to it through the thin wall that seperates your rooms. You've done everything to muffle the noise, but the incessant rhythmic slamming of his headboard right against the wall is similar to water torture. If you didn't care about privacy (unlike him, he frequently throws your bedroom door open while you're changing or walks in on you fresh out of the shower) you'd storm into his room and tell him to shut the fuck up but unfortunately you're a nicer person than he is so you suffer for a while longer.

♡ you end up confronting him the next night while he's on a game with his friends (again being eye twitching levels of loud and annoying). You had the decency to knock but when he opens the door he's got his hair tied up halfway, shirtless, and shorts sitting so fucking low on his hips you can see the light trail of hair that runs up his lower stomach to his navel. You hate that he's your type because shouldn't that be weird? He's your step brother, that has to be weird right?

"Yknow if you take a picture it'll last longer, right? My eyes are up here."

♡ Noah apparently clocked your staring and he has this stupid smug grin on his face that you hate. Ultimately how can he be upset for you staring at him when his eyes are always glued to your tits or ass whenever he has the chance?? He has no shame. It's not that he's upset at you, but he knows deep down you're fighting something he gave into ages ago, and he's got you wrapped around his finger whether you like it or not. You can't stand him, or is it that you want to hate him so you don't have to admit your other feelings?

"Can I help you or are you just gonna keep staring at my cock? I'm kinda fucking busy."

♡ he's always been this brash and it still somehow shocks you every time. You hate he's not really wrong, you wouldn't have been looking if his dick didn't leave a scarily large print in those shorts he was wearing. No wonder all those girls he brings over are so fucking loud. You didn't realize you still hadn't said what you came over to say, it felt like your voice was trapped in your throat especially when you looked up at him and those pretty brown eyes of his. God you fucking hate him, you hate that you're jealous of everyone that gets to spend time with him and all of those girls he's brought over to fuck and never say a word to again. He's an asshole but fuck if he isn't a pretty one. You feel like this is wrong but everything about him is wrong so what's new.

"If you want a taste you can just ask."

"Come on baby don't act like you don't think about me how I think about you. I've heard you playing with that little pussy and whining my name before, so you can't really fake hating me now, huh?"

♡ you're literally standing in his doorway dumbfounded at this point. He knew? Oh.

"Bet I could fuck that uptight attitude out of you. Maybe that's all you need, some good dick."

oh!

He shifts from where he's leaning against the doorframe to palm himself through his shorts and your heart feels like it's actually trying to escape your ribcage. Is this even real??? You came over here to bitch at him for being a loud inconsiderate asshole and he's trying to fuck you? Why doesn't he feel like this is wrong, why don't you feel like this is wrong? Why do you have this childish crush on your literal stepbrother? You feel dizzy. Noah has you right where he wants you though, he's been onto you the whole time and he could've just been nicer to you but who doesn't love a good hatefuck? He figured if he broke you down enough he could build you back up into the perfect little in home cock sleeve he knew you really wanted to be. He's fucking gross I need him but he's not wrong, is he?

♡ your eyes flit down from his eyes to his hand that's wrapped around his clothed cock again and you thought your knees would give out. How does that even fit inside anyone?? No wonder his dates sound like they're in a slasher film, they probably feel like they're getting split down the middle. You don't have much more time to think cause he's pulling you into his room and forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

"You're so much nicer when you're not bitching at me for fucking everything. Always wanted to fuck that pretty mouth of yours anyway, can't talk with your mouth full can you?"

Noah laces a large tattooed hand through the hair at the back of your head and you wince at the sting. You feel like your brain is just empty now, honestly this whole thing feels so much like a dream you're not fully convinced it's real, that you're actually letting your stepbrother smear precum on your lips with the tip of his big cock. It's even more threatening when it's not straining against his shorts, the tip is a pretty pink and there's a big thick vein running up the underside. You can't even fit your hand around it entirely, and you're so wet over it you're sure you can see through your pajama pants.

"Open."

♡ you do as you're told and Noah tugs your hair a little more to angle your head back. He's clouded up your brain so much you barely react when he spits directly onto your tongue, reaching to smear the mess around with 2 of his long fingers. You're looking up at him with big puppy eyes that water pathetically when he slides those two fingers down your throat, thrusting them in and out deeper each time to see how well you take him. He laughs when you gag and your eyes water as he sinks his fingers as deep as he can get them, you're such a fucking mess it's pathetic but that's exactly what's making his cock twitch. You're exactly how he needs you.

"gonna be a good girl for me? Let me fuck your throat and maybe I'll make you cum after if you're good."

you squeeze your thighs together to try and get some friction when he slaps his cock on your tongue, he's so fucking heavy and thick you really don't know how he expects to fit anywhere in your body let alone your mouth. Regardless, you try. You reach up to brace your hands on his tattooed thighs and focus on kissing and licking all over the tip, looking up at him when you wrap your lips around it to see his head fall back in a deep sigh. Sure he's gotten head before but something about this situation just makes him so much harder. The hand in your hair tightens and he slowly starts thrusting into your mouth, shallow at first but as you start taking more of him and it gets messy, he starts going much harder.

♡ Noah's fucking your throat so hard you have fat tears spilling down your cheeks, you're trying so hard to take him well but when he sinks in to the hilt and holds you there until you're clawing at this thighs and whimpering around his cock cause you can't breathe you can't help but pull away to catch it.

"God you're such a fucking slut."

He punctuates the phrase by landing a slap on your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you but definitely enough to sting. Normally you'd be upset but right now? Fuck you're almost begging him to do it again.

Once you catch your breath you open your mouth expectantly and he's right back to it. This time he has both hands tangled up in your hair while he's fucking your throat. Thank God no one's home cause he's not even trying to be a little quiet, deep moans and growls freely flowing from his mouth. You can't help but feel a little proud of yourself, normally you don't hear him make much noise when he's fucking whoever he's brought over but he's being pretty damn vocal right now. You can tell he's close by the way his thrusts falter and right before he cums he pulls out to paint your face. Whatever doesn't land on your tongue he gathers with his fingers and makes you suck them clean.

♡ you'd think he'd need a while to get hard again but no, he honestly didn't ever stop in the first place. Noah's dragging you up off the floor and nearly ripping your shorts down your legs and shirt off your torso immediately, he's seen you naked on "accident" but now that he really gets to look at you and feel you, fuck it's so much nicer. He steps back to admire your bare form but he can't go 3 seconds without teasing you. He runs his hands up your body to massage your tits and tease your nipples, pinching and playing with them until you're whimpering and teary eyed again.

He "apologizes" by leaning down and laving his tongue over the sensitive skin, making you arch against him and you can literally feel him smiling against your skin. He doesn't pull away before leaving a few dark hickeys on the underside of your tits, admiring his work after.

You don't get much of a break for long before he's picking you up and tossing you onto his bed. You can't help but notice it's neatly made (or was) before he drags your attention back to him by slapping his tip right against your clit, making you yelp. Apparently he liked your reaction cause he did it again, this time with his hand instead and with a little more force. Your voice broke into a whimper as he started rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers to ease the sting from the slap. He's mean but he still wants you to feel good.

"Can you say please? I wanna hear you beg for my cock before I give it to you, gotta know you really want it."

that smug look returns when his name and various pleads spill from your lips while he's sliding his fingers through the slick mess at your entrance, spreading the wetness around and dipping into you just enough to feel how tight you are around his fingers. He's reeling over the thought of how tight you'll be around his cock.

♡ like I said he's mean but he still wants you to feel good, he knows you need some kind of prep before he gets to fuck you. His free hand is slowly stroking his cock while the other is teasing your entrance, gauging your reaction. He starts with just one finger but quickly ends up fucking 3 into you, watching your back arch pathetically off the bed while he curls his fingers right up against that spot inside you that makes black spots flood your vision. You're squeezing his fingers so tight he knows you're close. The hand on his cock comes up to play with your clit and you feel like there's a literal fire lit in your belly.

"Gonna cum for me baby? It's okay, you can. Just let me make you feel good, need you see you fall apart for me."

Your legs are shaking, you're panting and squirming. It really feels like too much and right before you cum you're begging and pleading Noah to slow down cause it's just too much but he doesn't, if anything he's picking up the pace. The sound of your wetness is almost as loud as your moans for him and it only gets worse when that coil in your belly snaps and you nearly scream. You're arching off the bed and clawing at anything you can grab, you've cum before on your own but you've never felt anything this intense and sure as hell never made yourself squirt so this is a first. Noah is elated, his forearm and sheets are fucking drenched but he couldn't care less about the mess he's achingly hard at the fact he got you to squirt at all.

Noah reaches up and makes you clean your mess off his fingers, sliding them down your throat again just to feel you gag around them.

You're so sensitive and your brain is so fuzzy you can barely hold your head up, your chest rising and falling quickly while Noah sizes his length up against your tummy and groans at your size difference. His tip lands right below your navel, fuck, he's gonna demolish you. He's practically dripping like a faucet at this point and can't wait to be inside you, he's wanted this since you two fucking met. Noah leans over you to spit directly on your pussy before spreading it around with his tip and prodding at your slit, he's not even inside and you're whimpering about the stretch just from him resting against you.

"Can I hear you say please one more time, baby?"

♡ you enthusiastically answer, pleading for him to just fuck you and he takes the chance gladly. You knew the stretch was gonna be a lot but fuck when he actually sank balls deep your whole body ached. You were so fucking full it was unreal. You thought he couldn't get deeper but he crawled over you to push your knees up next to your ears and the moan you produced was pornographic. His tip was pressed right against your cervix and every time he thrust into you he knocked against it, it was painful at first but once the initial sting of the stretch wore off you've never felt better.

You swore you could feel him in your stomach he was so deep, and the sound of his hips smacking against yours was filthy. There was that familiar sound of his headboard hitting your shared wall but thankfully this time you weren't annoyed by it, if anything it drove you further.

Noah's moans started out deep in his chest but as he got closer they pitched up almost into whines, he was bucking his hips into yours like an animal in heat and his nails were sinking into your hips hard enough to bruise. He only leaned back a bit to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze, cutting your moans and whimpers into pathetic strangled sounds.

"F-fuck- fuck fuck- 'm gonna cum- so fucking hard- tell me you want it- fuck, tell me you want me to fill this pretty pussy up-"

Youd never seen or heard him so disheveled but fuck if it wasn't hot. You didn't hesitate to beg for him to cum inside you, it made his head spin at the thought. God this was wrong but he couldn't help but imagine how pretty you'd look carrying his kid either. Noah pulled back just enough to have you in normal missionary, you wondered why but when he pressed his hand on your lower stomach you figured it out pretty quick. He could feel exactly where he was inside you and was rutting against his hand through you like you were nothing more than a toy. He only stopped so he could grab your hand and have you feel as well. His dick made a noticeable bulge in your belly every time he thrust into you, and it only made you ache at the thought. He really was ruining you for anyone else.

♡ Noah slid a hand between your bodies to tease your clit while he picked up the pace of his own sloppy thrusts. He was gonna cum but he needed you to cum with him. The hand on your throat absentmindedly tightened and you were seeing black spots flood your vision already but when he sank as deep as he could possibly get and whimpered as he came you couldn't stop yourself from toppling over the same edge. You thought you'd never cum so hard in your life earlier but now? This was really it. You sank your nails into his arm hard enough to draw blood while you convulsed under him, breaking into sobs of his name while he ground his hips into yours.

Noah pulling out left you with a horrible emptiness and you almost begged him to stay for just a bit longer. He was considering it himself but his thoughts were cut short when you both heard the front door downstairs open.

Shit.

Noah nearly threw you out of bed, scrambling to pull his shorts back on. Your clothes were strewn everywhere and you didn't have time to hunt for them so you picked up the first shirt you could find off his floor and put it on before racing back to your own room. Thank God you made it quick cause Noah's cum was still dripping down your thighs.

-

*also just saw the rb but tagging @somebodyllelse cause I almost forgot 😭

[kleine-joost]

Literally anything with whimpering joost pls, that man is one that whimpers idgaf what anyone else says, whimpering is hot with two t's

ask and you shall receive (I hope I did it justice for you!!! ❤️)

Joost Klein x Reader 18+ MDNI

You continued to dance as the bass jumped through your bones. You always lived for nights like this. With your past week at work, you needed a night to unwind, and Joost knew it. One of the perks of having a well-connected boyfriend, you could get into practically any club in Amsterdam that you wanted, and you always used that to your benefit. You’d dragged Joost from one club to another all night, it was getting close to last call time and you were trying to make the most of it all.

Joost didn’t mind trailing after you. You were wearing the pair of jeans and the strappy top that you knew made him go crazy. That was part of the fun of the night as well, teasing him for hours upon hours until he couldn’t handle how worked up he was and would drag you home to fuck you until the sun was coming up. 

But that was getting harder and harder for Joost to hold off as you grinded into him on the dancefloor. He had hold of your hips, swaying you both to the music. You were facing away from him, and everytime to shook your head to the beat he got a whiff of your shampoo, it was bordering on torture.

“I’m going to get another drink,” he practically yelled in your ear just so you could hear him.

“I’ll come with you!” You swung around, your face flushed and slightly dewey, grabbing Joost’s hand as he led you both to the large circular bar closer to the entrance of the club.

It was a bit quieter, at least the glasses of half-finished drinks that sat on the bar were only slightly vibrating from the bass that emanated through the building. Joost ordered another beer, and you got a bottle of water. You both didn’t say much as you both just quietly watched the crowd jumping in unison.

You could tell your body would be sore later, and your lack of energy was quickly dawning on you. You rested your head on Joost’s shoulder as he took a sip. 

As if this wasn’t torturous enough already, now his senses were filled with the scent of your perfume and a light sheen of sweat that started at your hairline and slowly went down your neck. He wished he hadn’t worn such tight jeans tonight, he was painfully hard and the pressure wasn’t helping. He tried to slyly adjust himself, hoping for some kind of reprieve.

You noticed him wriggle. He couldn’t hide much from you, you saw how his eyes raked over your body as you were getting ready to leave, and you felt his grip on your hips and waist tighten with every club you went to.

Maybe it was time to give him what he’d been wanting so badly. You grabbed his hand tightly, looking up at him with lidded eyes and leaning close to his ear.

“Come with me,” you whispered, beginning to walk to the small hallway you knew led to the bathrooms.

It was surprisingly empty. Even better. You slid into the men’s bathroom, quickly dragging Joost into a stall with you.

As soon as you latched the lock shut his mouth was on yours, and he was pushing your bodies against the stall door.

You let his tongue explore over your lips, your teeth, and your own tongue. He tasted like the strawberry gum he always loved to chew. You let your hands wander over his back, and gripped his shoulders, nails digging in just the way he liked.

You parted your mouth from his to place wet kisses down his neck, biting just a little.

“I need you,” he gasped. “Please.”

“Impatient…” you tutted.

But you couldn’t see your boy so desperate, so you indulged him. You reached a hand down to palm him through his jeans while you lightly sucked that sweet spot near his collarbone. He let out a tiny whimper, but enough to spur you on.

You quickly unbuckled his belt, fumbling with the large, ornate buckle he’d worn that night, and reached into his boxers, just to give him enough skin-on-skin contact.

“What do you want, baby?” You asked him, slowly running your nails over his length.

“Uh, uh,” he stuttered for a moment. “Your mouth, I want your mouth.”

A grin spread across your lips. You would honestly do anything for this man when he got like this, seeing him so desperate made you want to make him happy in any way you possibly could.

You kneeled on the sticky floor without delay, pulling Joost’s jeans and boxers down just a bit to let his cock spring free. You were salivating at the sight of him. After only a few small licks to his glistening, pink tip, he was gasping for air. You jumped into gear, lightly sucking on him and running one hand over the rest of him.

The room was quickly filled with his moans. Not the normal, guttural moans like when he was fucking you, these were higher pitched, more of a whine. He was itching for a release.

You flattened your tongue and pushed him deeper in your mouth. You were just staving your gag reflex back, as he grabbed the back of your head to encourage you. Joost took hold of your hair once you’d gotten into a good rhythm as he was hurtling closer and closer to the finish line.

With one final swirl of your tongue, he was finishing in your mouth. You waited as he rode out the high, letting out some final strangled gasps as you looked up at him, taking him out of your mouth and swallowing.

He grabbed your hand to help you stand up as he tucked himself back into his jeans. You noticed his cheeks had the slightest tinge of pink washed over them, it made you smile. Just when you were about to unlock the stall to leave he pulled your arm back, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Let’s go home,” you told him, sweetly.

[recklesssturniolo]

Still Hate Me? - C.S

Chris version of hotel , enemies x lovers, dom!Chris , shortish (don’t hate me I’m sorry)

NSFW, leave if you’re a minor

My head snaps up as I hear the hotel room door open and slam shut, my eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Chris.

“Why the fuck are you in my room?” I growl.

“Your room? This is my room” He responds.

“No it’s actually not Nick texted me that this room is mine” I reply, shoving my phone in his face with Nick’s message displayed.

“Fuck me. Great looks like they put us in a room together” He says, rolling his eyes.

“No shot, this has to be a joke” I say, immediately texting Nick.

It’s silent as I impatiently wait for a text back from Nick, glaring at my phone once I see his response simply say “Sorry😚”

“What’d he say” Chris asks.

“Sorry with a kiss emoji. This is my living hell” I mumble.

Chris sighs before stating he was having a shower before bed. I take his absence as time to change into my pjs, getting comfortable underneath the blankets before he returns. Glancing up, my eyes widen slightly as I see him with just a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets dripping onto his chest from his hair. I quickly look back down to my phone, not wanting him to catch me staring, but frustratingly noticing how attractive he looked.

He walks back into the bathroom and I shut my phone off and roll onto my side. Feeling the bed dip as he laid down.

“Stay as far away from me as possible” I say.

“Don’t have to tell me twice” He responds.

I close my eyes, but can’t help but picture how good Chris looked when he got out of the shower. Fuck sakes why was I still thinking about that?

Unaware of the time, I’m awoken by the noise of quiet moans and a grinding against my ass. Looking over my shoulder I see it’s Chris, seemingly asleep. I had to be dreaming there was no possible way Chris was having a wet dream and using me to get off.

“Chris!” I almost yell, shaking him.

“Jesus Christ what is your problem” He replies, his eyes half open.

“You’re literally grinding your dick against me and moaning” I tell him.

“I - what? You’re lying” He says.

“I’m positive you could just feel how hard your dick is and know I’m being serious” I respond.

“I uh, I’m sorry I didn’t even realize I was doing any of that” He mumbled, his voice quiet.

There wasn’t much use denying it turned me on, but my mind couldn’t figure out whether to act on it or not.

“Mm it’s fine. I kinda liked it” I replied, trying my best to act as if that was a normal statement.

“What?” He questioned.

I turn over, now facing him, only slightly able to see the outline of his face, “Said I liked it”

He places his hand on my cheek, his thumb toying with my bottom lip, “Yeah?”

I nod in response, noticing a smirk grow on his face before his lips smash against mine. Our tongues clashing against each others as I feel his hand slip underneath my shorts.

“Can I?” He asks through the kiss.

“Please” I mumble back.

His hand, almost torturously slow makes it way down to my heat. I whimper leaving my mouth as his thumb makes contact with my clit and he begins moving slow circles over it.

Moving his hand lower, I feel him smirk before mumbling, “By how wet you are you really must’ve liked that”

“Chris” I whine.

“What is it? Use your words” He says.

“More, I need more” I respond.

“Yeah? Sit on my face then” He tells me.

“What - are you serious?” I ask.

“Dead serious, get to it” He replies.

Not wasting anytime, I slip off my shorts and panties and allow him to position himself before I move so my pussy is above his lips.

“Don’t by shy, sit” He demands.

I lower myself onto his face, a gasp leaving my mouth as he licks up my pussy. His hand tightly gripping my ass as he sucked on my clit.

“I - fuck Chris feels so good” I moan.

“Tastes so fucking good” He mumbles back.

I whimper as his begins flicking his tongue against my clit, my hands gripping tighter onto the headboard as he did so. He flattens his tongue against me, tasting as much of me as he could.

“I need you” I whine.

He pulls away, “Need me to fuck you? Desperate for it aren’t you?”

“Yes Chris please” I whimper.

Without another word he flips me over and pulls my ass up towards him. I hear the sound of him shuffling around before his tip makes contact with my pussy. He teases me by sliding his dick up and down against my core.

“Stop teasing fuck” I moan out.

“You gonna be a good girl and take all of it?” He asks.

“My god yes just fuck me already” I respond.

With that, he slams himself into me, a loud moan leaving my lips. The pain of my pussy stretching to fit him mixed with the pleasure sucking the air out of my lungs.

“I - god you’re so big” I moan.

“Taking me well so well pretty girl” He groans.

He holds nothing back, his grip tightening on my waist as he slams into me. The groans falling from him mouth only making it better. Without warning he pulls out, an immediate gasp comes from me as he did.

“Chris what the fuck” I question.

“Ride me. I wanna see your tits bounce as you bounce on my dick” He says, once again flipping me over.

I begin positioning myself over him before he stops me.

“Shirt off” He demands.

I nod and do as he says, my need for him causing me to complete forget to remove my top.

“Good girl” He says once my tops off, his hands moving to play with my nipples causing my head to tilt back.

I align myself with his dick and lower myself onto him. A moan leaving my mouth as I fully say.

“So tight holy fuck” Chris groan, his hips thrusting upwards.

I begin bouncing myself on him, the slight ache in my legs being nothing compared to the euphoria spreading through my body. Chris��� hips thrust up to meet mine, syncing himself with my movements.

“I’m - fuck I’m gonna come” He groans, “Look so fucking good on top of me”

I say nothing but in response pick up my pace, my own climax growing within me, practically begging to be released.

“On 3 okay?” I moan.

“Fuck okay” Chris growls, his grip once against tight on my waist, his eyes not leaving my body for even a second.

Counting to three, I moan out as I come, my legs now shaking and my nails slightly scratching his torso. I watch as Chris throws his head back, his eyes clenching shut as he continuing matching my movements with his thrusts, soon coming to a slow, eventually stopping.

Both of our highs finishing, before I get off of him, he pulls me close and connects our lips again briefly before pulling away.

I lift myself off of him, a quiet whine falling from my lips as I did. Laying myself down beside him.

“I can’t believe that just fucking happened” I say.

“Don’t even try denying that you loved it” He responds.

“Wasn’t gonna, that felt beyond good” I reply.

“Still hate me?”

TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @urmyslxt @sturniolosreads @bernardenjoyer

[aseaofyoongi]

just desserts | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: one night stand; neighbors; set in the summer cause i miss it dearly.

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: jungkook is your next door neighbor who you have only crossed a few words with. however one hot summer day theres a city wide blackout and strangely enough, he shows up at your door w brownies. . and other delights.

warnings: crush culture; mentions of lack of confidence; masturbation (f.); foul language; naughty thoughts; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap it up); dry humping; oral (m. receiving); praise; sub-ish jk!; jk has a huge dick;?brief mention of seokjin and joon; oc is very hørny for jk basically; those fucking gifs of jk w his long hair and glasses inspired this so thank you jeon jungkook; edited but excuse any mistakes please.

word count: 6,3 thousand words

posted: monday - january 30, 2023

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A sixth floor walk up in the middle of the scorching month of July was certainly not fitting on your basis of an ideal home. But after your extensive apartment search always ended with high-priced, rodent infested corners New Yorkers often mistook for apartments, you were happy to shake on the deal for this studio apartment with Seokjin without having to break your piggy bank or burn a staggering hole in your pocket.

“When is the elevator going to be fixed, Seokjin,” you fanned yourself as beads of sweat adorned your white tank top.

“That’ll have to be when I finally win the lotto,” he guffawed from behind the plexiglass square standing between you and his office.

“Very funny,” you mumbled, beginning your journey up the stairs. He didn’t hear you though, instead his focus remained on whichever drama he played on the television.

Kim Seokjin, was the name of a superstar—or so he says. He claims to have attended the Juilliard School for about two years, with dreams of becoming the newest face of Hollywood and all of their high-priced productions. When Seokjin’s dad fell ill, he couldn’t keep up with the demands of keeping so many residence buildings open, he had to close more than half his buildings and just like that, financial strains created a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in the life of Seokjin. He was left without his dreams, without his father and taking care of a building where the rent was too cheap to gain a profit, making just enough to cover the mortgage.

Normally, you weren’t so exposed to details of your landlord’s lives, but Seokjin was different. He was also your friend.

“I put water bottles around the halfway mark. The last thing I need is a lawsuit over a dead body,” he yelled up as you barely made it to floor two.

“How considerate. I’ll try not to die while you’re on the clock,” it was too hot to continue your journey up. . too hot to form coherent sentences. You just wanted to make it to your apartment and sit in front of the fan for the rest of the day.

“That’s all I’m saying,” you heard.

Once your foot met the landing on the third floor, your eyes desperately scanned for the promise of beverages Seokjin had informed you of, but the small table set-up on the other end of the hallway was completely empty. Leaving behind only the particles of dust and pure oxygen to inhale. Fuck—you actually felt like you were going to pass out. Just three more floors.

You wanted to yell down a snarky remark towards Seokjin but you figured that required too much energy you simply did not have.

Moving to New York was a decision you had made impulsively after feeling like you had overstayed your time in your parents house post-high school. You averted college at all costs because it just wasn’t for you. Lectures seemed like a bore and professors were individuals being paid to legally torture their students so you joyfully averted that nightmare all together. Your immediate option was to get a job, but after many places began getting closed down back home, you found yourself job hopping as a means for survival.

It was not convenient, so you boarded a train to the city that never sleeps in hopes of never looking back. . And you haven’t since setting foot here eleven months ago.

“Just one more floor,” you uttered to no one in particular but the patchy silver handrail and the chipped white walls.

Your apartment was now in your line of vision and the only thing standing between you and the black steel door were just ten sets of stairs. Walking into the building your body was glistening with a thin layer of sweat but now you were drenched, your top was sticking to your skin and the thick beads of dampness rolled down your body like the condensation on soft drinks from fast food places.

Heaving with exhaustion you took a seat on the very last step of the sixth floor, finally you made it but you just needed a minute, just a single minute to catch your breath. The fucking heat was unbearable; intolerable; irregular, you could have sworn the sun inched closer and closer to planet earth as the day progressed.

Initially, you hadn’t heard as much as the squeaky hinges on the door frame, you were too divulged in your suffering from the days heat. Not to mention, your eyes were closed and you were too focused in a state of cooling down before hiding behind the thin walls of your apartment.

“Are you ok?” His voice became trapped in the muggy air surrounding the two of you. The bass in his tone never ceased to make your knees turn to jello, to make your toes curl and to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.

Was the heat not enough suffering for one day?

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. It’s just the heat.”

“Yeah, it definitely feels like we were shipped straight to hell today.”

“I don’t know, I think hell might be cooler than this,” he chuckled lightly—you’re foolish stammer and poor excuse of words enlightened him. The sun was still beaming brightly but you swore you saw stars after he had serenaded you so sweetly with the sound of his infectious laugh.

“I think you might be right,” he locked his door and walked past you on the stairs, “have a good day neighbor.”

“You too, Jungkook,” you called after him as he began his way down the unfortunate set of stairs.

Sometimes, you felt as if you’d been blessed as the main lead in the plot of a cheesy rom com, but after today the idea was really cemented in your head. Ok, look. . Jungkook was your hot neighbor, like very hot, unearthly hot, like he was handcrafted by God himself, kind of hot. Furthermore, only you and him resided on the sixth floor, living in a pair of tiny apartments right beside one another. Although that was all you had gathered so far, besides his name, it was enough to fill your head with delusions and daydreams of the man your eyes loved to gawk at every chance you got.

You read him very well, like the everlasting pages of your favorite novel. His silky hair was long and inched over the nape of his neck, he wore specs that sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose accentuating his big doe eyes. Though his features seemed soft his aura was borderline the complete opposite—a silver hooped piercing sat in the right side of his rosette lips while tattoos peeked right out of the sleeves of the white button up he usually wore.

You closed the door to your apartment, removed your shoes and hung your keys on the flathead thumbtack pierced into the wall by the front door.

The apartment felt even more scorching than the bustling sidewalks. After opening all three of the windows you were bestowed to have between your room and the living room, you turned on your fan and walked into the bathroom to draw a much needed cool bath. Stripping off your sweaty clothes, you stepped into the tub. For a minute, you were immersed in the utter silence floating around you—all your ears detected was the distanced whirring fan all the way from your room.

Behind the back of your eyelids, the world was dark and your thoughts brought you back to your encounters with Jungkook on the stairs just moments ago. Your interactions with the boy were usually extended to a whispered, ‘hi’ or ‘hello,’ never as prolonged as it played out today.

In your thoughts, Jungkook strolled by day and night, as you embraced every look, every utterance, every single time he brushed his hair back using his slender fingers. He was the cultivation of your desires and the reason why your heart strummed against your chest a bit harder the days you saw him leaving around 12PM every afternoon.

It baffled you how he always managed to look fucking good every single day—even during the hottest days of the summer, while you looked like vile beast he managed to look so perfect.

. . So fucking perfect.

The faint tingles traveling through your body, caused your skin to form goosebumps. The pulsation of your clit is what really began driving you to clouded thoughts to imagine his hands against you. You imagined the pads of his fingers to be soft mimicking a delicate velvet fabric and while you crumbled under his touch, he would murmur the filthiest of words against your ear.

Those ministrations could be enough to have you coming hard—he wouldn’t even have to fuck you. Shit, even looking at him was enough.

Being away from all of the toys you safely stored in your nightstand, you grabbed the detachable shower head and adjusted the water pressure, prepped your feet up on the rim of the tub aiming it in between your legs in an inevitable attack against your clit.

Your head lulled back in sure bliss as you fed your carnal desires, the only thing missing was him.

“Fuck—” How you longed for him to have you in this position, so sensitive to his sinful doings; so aroused for him. It was like a hunger your fingers, toys and this stupid shower head could not satisfy.

The vibration of his name dripped from your lips like a chant and you felt that bubbling fervor form in the pit of your stomach. Spurts of pleasure rushed out of you so intensely you were overwhelmed by the explosions of fireworks as soon as your orgasm erupted.

When your breath had settled and you finally felt like you could stand, you opted for a quick shower, rushing to get into your pajamas and plopped down on your bed right in-front of the fan for a nap, having your dreams quickly invaded by him.

Work sucked on Monday afternoons.

All you ever did was stare out of the ticket booth at the movie theater as the few customers who despised the weekend rush came in. Besides, there was rarely anything to occupy your mind with on slow nights like this. You had already sweeped and your co-worker, Namjoon was surveying the screening rooms for any shenanigans the younger crowds could possibly be rattling up.

You always left that up to him—he was the more intimidating one between the two of you anyway.

“Room 5 is a wreck,” Namjoon announced his entrance into the lobby, “I’m gonna go clean up.”

“Walkie me if you need help,” you tapped the walkie clipped onto your belt buckle and he nodded, grabbing the broom and a few rags.

Your stomach grew irritated as you continued golfing down copious amounts of candies but the truth was you were starving and had no time to eat breakfast this morning; let alone make something to bring to work to eat for lunch.

Namjoon was a film major. He was the spitting image of a cliche by the way—his parents wanted him to become a doctor but that wasn’t his passion so he ran away to the city and began trotting up the golden stairs to his dream. You wished you had even an ounce of his determination, he knew exactly where he wanted to go and how to get there while you still stood at the base of the mountain of your life. . unbeknownst on how to tackle it or which way it was to begin your way up to the summit.

There was nothing you had a passion for and quite frankly sometimes you were utterly clueless as to what your purpose was in life.

Had no dreams and no goals to strive towards; nothing extraordinary you expected to blossom in your future. There was nothing, nothing and more nothingness occupying the hours of your days.

“My child,” Seokjin walked in through the glass door, he looked like he'd been chilling in an oven.

“Seokjin,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “what are you doing here? I thought you never left the air conditioner in your office plus don’t you hate the movie theater?”

“You’re absolutely correct. The dimmed lighting here is horrid and I deserve better than that. .”

“Of course, you do.”

“But,” he leaned over the counter, “I saw your little neighbor boyfriend leaving the building today and I was fucking gagged.”

“Trust me, Seokjin. I know how good he fucking looks in that white button up. I’ve lived it.”

“No,” he squealed, “He had a black short sleeve shirt today and—”

“Spit it out, bitch.”

“He has a full fucking sleeve,” he squealed.

“No. Fucking. Way.” The pauses in between your words were not placed for dramatic effect—you were in fact attempting to paint a detailed mental image of that sinful man.

How unfair is it that he gets to walk around us mortals with our average looks while he exudes such grand flawlessness.

“Looks like someone owes me fifty bucks.”

The bet. . you had completely forgotten about that.

“I'll pass it over on Friday once I get paid.”

“I told you,” he began, “once a man gets one tattoo they’re usually covered in them.”

“Yea, but he has this soft look to him, you know?” you shrugged, “I thought he might have had a few. But a whole sleeve?”

“Jungkook is a walking juxtaposition.”

“I suppose he is.”

Seokjin sat on the counter emptying a handful of sweets into his palm, “what are you doing eating all of this candy anyway?”

“Uh,” your thoughts were still filtered towards Jungkook. You wanted to see him so bad, “I’m starving and just waiting on Namjoon to finish cleaning room five so I can go on my lunch break.”

“Namjoon as in the buff hottie with the deep voice?”

“I guess.”

“Room five?” You nodded.

“I’ll take one ticket for whatever the fuck you guys are showing right now.”

“Didn’t you say you hated it here?” You printed a ticket to. . you looked down, to the latest minion movie and ripped off the top half, “you complained about the lights or something.”

“Can you just give me a ticket? I need it to execute my master plan,” he rushed your actions in cutting the ticket you had printed, “besides you owe me for coming all the way down here with vital intel about your secret crush.”

“I owe you nothing. I’ll be paying half a hundred for that by the end of the week, remember?”

“Consider this,” he snatched the ticket from your grasp, holding it beside his toothy grin, “your down payment.”

Before you could form a further argument, Seokjin vanished from in front of you and sprinted down the main hallway to screening room five.

The best thing about your job were the designated days off you had throughout the week. Tuesdays and Fridays were yours to enjoy and while today was Tuesday your schedule was still jam packed with an abundance of errands to complete come the early morning.

You had paid your utility bills, finished your laundry, cleaned your apartment and even set out poultry to defrost by the time you made it back home. It had been a very productive day.

Your last stop was the grocery store.

Oftentimes, you’d wander aimlessly, losing yourself in each aisle wondering about how the better half lives, how much better life would be if you didn’t have to keep incessant reminders of your weekly budgets stamped to the back of your head.

How much easier life would be if money wasn’t such a big determinant in the choices we were forced to make in our day to day lives.

Oh, how much easier life would be.

You only grabbed the essentials for the next couple of weeks including—rice, greens, fruits, water, milk, meat, and a variation of breakfast options.

Temptation roamed in the air as you headed out of the cereal aisle you were face to face with a bakery section where an unhealthy amount of baked goods were sprawled out—practically blaring out your name. All of the delicious delights made your mouth water and you couldn’t help but gravitate deeper and deeper, guided by the aroma of the sweet desserts.

“Neighbor?” It was his earthy voice, the same one you’d only heard vibrate among the walls of the tiny hallway of the sixth floor the two of you shared.

“Jungkook?” You looked up from the brownies and your eyes met his figure, in the same clothes you usually saw him leave his apartment. It was his work uniform, “You work here?”

“Is that judgment in your tone I hear?”

“N-no,” You stammered. Was he fucking with you? He had to be fucking with you. “Of course not. I would never judge—”

“I was just playing, neighbor.” Phew.

“I always come here. How come I haven’t seen you before?”

“I’m usually baking in the back. I was just coming out to set these down,” he held up the dozen cupcakes sitting inside the boxed packaging.

“You bake?” Hopefully, you sounded more stunned than judgemental because you were i. fact stunned.

“I’m an aspiring pastry chef. I go to culinary school,” Jungkook, your beautiful, doe eyed, tattooed, pierced neighbor was also a baker. Ok.

For some reason that made him so much more attractive.

“I would not have been able to guess that even if I tried,” You mentally kicked yourself at the lack of filter in your words. You weren’t trying to offend him and hopefully he does not take it as such.

He chuckled—that’s a good sign, “People tend to simulate that very reaction but you can certainly knock on my door if you’re ever craving something sweet. I promise they are amazing.”

Craving something sweet?

Your thoughts traveled back to the enticing thoughts you possessed a few days ago while you took a bath, the vivid image of the water pressure against your cunt and the pure desire to have him near made you dizzy. And now he was near, just a couple of feet away.

A wave of warmth traveled through your extremities, the pulse on your clit turned to an overbearing throb, you wanted to rub your thighs and alleviate the feeling. But you remembered where you were, in the middle of the grocery store and Jungkook still stood right before you. Nevertheless, you tried to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs; dampening your panties.

“I practically poured out all of the basic details of my boring life. I think you owe me at least something about you.”

“There’s not much to tell,” you shrugged, “but I work at the movie theater down the street if that piques your interest at all.”

“It does. I love movies.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there before.”

“Well, if I’m honest I haven’t gone in a long time but that’s only because work and school keep me pretty busy.”

The lust streaming through your body doubled to make your heart beat with fondness and you grew endeared in the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up when he talked about his aspirations to become a baker.

“You’ll have a free ticket waiting for you whenever your schedule clears up.”

“Promise you’ll join me when I decide to go.” His words carved themselves into your brain like a permanent tattoo, just as those decorating his arm. The fluttering feeling in your abdomen heightened as a result of the dithers, without being aware of it, that is the effect Jungkook had on you.

“As long as it’s on a Tuesday or Friday.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

“See you, neighbor.”

Thursday was the worst day of the week so far.

Technically you were supposed to be at work, it was already 4:00PM, but instead you were still home. Even just sitting down in the muggy atmosphere of your in the miniscule space, you were doused, staining your clothes with sweat.

You were not willingly suffering at the lack of mercy the scorching weather subjected the city and everyone in it to, unfortunately the power had gone out. And while usually you had the luxury of a fan to cool down, today you had nothing.

Your windows and front door were left wide open in an attempt to cool down the place and still you felt as if you were sitting inside a fucking oven set to hightest temperature. There was no use.

“Neighbor.” Jungkook called out lightly knocking on the opened door.

Jungkook? Not Jungkook again when you looked like an absolute wreck.

“Hey Jungkook,” he stood at the door frame, a wide grin painted on his lips—he held a to-go box in his hands, “you can come in.”

“Do you want me to shut the door?”

“Sure,” you gave in, it’s not like it was actually doing anything. Besides, the last thing you needed was one of the crazy residents from the lower floors coming to bug you.

Jungkook took a seat next to you on the couch, he wore a sleeveless top exposing all of the ink embellishing his skin, every line, every curve, every word was so intricate and seemed so unique to him.

“I didn’t know you had these many tattoos,” a small fib was a price to pay to not seem like a weirdo, “did any of them hurt?”

“Some did,” he pointed at his tricep, “mainly these and a few others but I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Well, they’re beautiful,” you scanned his arm some more. It was truly like a mural embodying the beauty of art, “were you a singer?” you signaled at the microphone sitting on his forearm.

“I guess you could say that,” he adjusted himself on the couch, his nylon shorts rode up his thighs and you just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way your eyes glanced down constantly. Jungkook didn’t notice though, he was too busy averting eye contact and scratching the back of his head, “My highschool friends and I used to make music. We recorded a mixtape.”

“I need a link to this mixtape. . like now,” You laughed hysterically.

“Oh no, you don’t.”

“Ok, ok,” Again, another surprise from the man you thought you had all figured out—every single day he surprised you more and more, “were you like a vocalist or a rapper?”

“Vocals mostly. I did try rapping once though but I sucked so badly they scratched it off the track.”

“At least they were honest and didn't let you crash and burn in public.”

“You should’ve seen me though. I thought I was the shit.”

Jungkooks giggles were everlasting as he recounted the many times their parents grew exhausted of kicking them out of their garages for their disturbances in the making of their great musical legacy.. He filled the room with vibrance. The longer you sat in the presence of Jungkook the more you were exposed to the colors that made Jungkook, Jungkook. Of course, you were intrigued by the phosphorescent hues allowing them to inch you closer in his direction. Wanting him to spare no details in the adventure of his life.

“What’s that?” you pointed at the packaging box beside him on the arm rest.

“Brownies,” he handed you the box, “I saw you eyeing them when you were at the bakery but you didn’t buy any. So, I figured I would bring you some.”

In your mind, this was his way of saying he was thinking about you—that’s what you chose to believe anyway.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I wanna see what you think of my baking.” Jungkook’s eyes were bigger than usual behind his specs, he fidgeted with the hem of his shorts.

If only he knew, the actual taste of the brownies would hold no significance in your criticism. You would love them anyway simply because they came from him.

“How about we have one together?”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “let’s go to my room. There’s two windows in there and I’m literally about to pass out from heat stroke out here.”

The two of you sat by each one of the windows, the box of his remaining six hand crafted sweet delicacies sat between the two of you on the nightstand.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

“1, 2,” the two of you held the chocolaty dessert up to your mouth, “3.”

Even after just one bite your taste buds were enamored.

“What do you think?”

“They’re amazing, Jungkook. You’re an amazing baker.”

“You can call me Kookie, you know.”

You nearly choked after taking another bite, hurdling into a coughing spiral, “that’s so fitting. Kookie the pastry chef.”

“Forget I said it,” he shook his head, laughing.

“Wait, no,” you loved the soft tint of pink dusting his cheeks, “that could be the name of your future shop.”

“Kookie’s Cookies.”

“Kookie’s Cookies,” you confirmed, “and I wanna be credited for the idea too.”

“Better yet, you’ll be my business partner.”

“That’s not a good idea. I’ll eat everything and you’ll just end up bankrupt,” your eyes were set on the congested sidewalks outside your window—everyone was out likely catching a break from their scorching apartments but here you were melting away all at the expense of being in Jungkook’s company just for a bit longer.

“I wouldn’t mind as long as you’re with me.”

Those eight words sent your mind into a spiral, head first into the rabbit hole of your fantasies. You couldn’t really make out if he truly meant what you thought he meant.

“Jungkook. .”

“I mean it.”

“Please don’t make me believe there could actually be something here,” Your voice was low and your thoughts were a scribbled mess. There was not a single coherency in your being at that point in time.

“I’m not lying,” your name tasted saccharine on his tinted lips—much like the brownie he had baked for you, “I like you.”

“Jungkook. .” was all you could muster.

“I’ve liked you from the moment you moved into the building.”

A single strike of thunder traveled down your spinal cord, you felt paralyzed in that moment and his sweet sweet words just continued looping inside the walls of your skull.

You were malfunctioning; shocked.

It’s astonishing how oblivious and just plain stupid human nature can make a person. For the past months, you had concealed the schoolgirl crush you developed on Jungkook and convinced yourself that there was absolutely no way in hell he could like you back.

Your insecurities had deceived you and now you sit here after so long with a thumping beat in your heart, giddy with excitement and lowkey wanting to slap yourself for not having noticed earlier.

“You like me?”

Obviously, he just fucking said that. He nodded.

“I like you, too.” You finally said out loud.

The temperature continued to rise in the small bedroom and between the two of you the heat became unbearable. With each passing second, you could feel the streamline trickles of your sweat cascading down your temples; your entire body matter of fact.

If eyes were the windows to the soul then Jungkook’s chocolate gaze was compelling.

And they were calling out for you so loudly.

“What happens now?” He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

“Can I kiss you, Jungkook?”

You caught on to Jungkook’s mannerisms and body language rather quickly within the past hour. For example, he was pretty straight forward with his words yet whenever he spoke his fingers fidgeted with a random object as a distraction, this time it was the black beaded bracelet sitting on his wrist.

He nodded yet again.

Your heaven resided in the comfort of Jungkook’s thighs. You realized it the moment you straddled him. The rich smell of sandalwood was a scent unique to him, so earthy and rich. It was the only thing you ever wanted to smell for the remainder of your time on earth.

After raking your hands through his soft hair you tugged at it a bit, guiding his face up towards you.

“If you want anything from me. You’re gonna have to use your words, Jungkook.”

“You know what I want,” his eyes traced the corners of your lips down to the intricate details, “just kiss me, please.”

There are an abundance of perfect scenarios in life. For one there was the idyllic scene of snowfall on Christmas day; the legendary creamy combination of cookies and cream; then, there was the way your lips danced against Jungkooks, composing a choreography so intricate and beautiful only the two of you could execute it.

You were in a haze, entirely stupefied and addicted to his soft and warm lips. Then, his hands snaked around your waist as he guided you back and forth on his lap. His covered erection rubbed against your clothed slit in a pace so slow, it was agonizing yet delectable. Jungkook pulled away, continuing to lead your movements against him. Your mouth remained agape and you couldn’t help the sounds escaping your lips.

You wanted to pinch yourself, you’d only ever dreamt of this. Was this all a fabrication of your dreams? You hope it wasn’t, it felt so good.

“God, I’ve always wanted to have you like this.” His voice was husk and he spoke in between grunts.

If today was dictated as your last day on earth, you’d die being the happiest woman.

His warm breath fanned your sweaty neck. A tickle ran down your back but you focused on the knot forming at your abdomen.

“I’m so close.”

“Let go for me.”

His commands were sweet like candy and the utters of his guidance to have you crumble on his lap were all you needed to send you over the edge.

“You were so good for me, darling.”

“Call me that forever.” Your knees were sore, your voice was hoarse and you were sweltered from head to toe but you craved more, you grew wetter just imagining what else could arise from this encounter.

“Darling?” You nodded. “Jungkook?” He hummed lightly, opening his eyes and lifting his head from where it rested on the wall.

“Are you tired?”

“I just had a long day yesterday.”

“Can I help you unwind?” your lower lip now tucked under your teeth, “can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Your hands tucked under the hemline of his shorts and underwear. The way you illustrated Jungkook in your dreams was close to what you would imagine a modern Greek God to look like and you quickly realized that was the case when his shirt lifted revealing that he should be the one on display in museums instead of those silly little statues.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, while your hand moved up and down the length of his cock. You couldn’t see it, not yet. But he felt so big in your palm.

The hushed moans and curses leaving him fueled you to maintain at the same pace. Your lips found themselves leaving wet kisses on his already dampened neck.

“Please—please don’t stop,” He was a stuttering mess, his hand was gripping the window still so tightly his knuckles turned white. Hypnotized by arousal Jungkook began meeting your movements, enraptured by his desire for release.

“You’re not being a very good boy, Jungkook,” you whispered in his ear, “besides I thought you were tired.”

“I’ll—I’ll be so good I promise,” he continued fucking himself into your hand.

Jungkook whined as soon as you released his cock from your grip. Instead you tucked off the pesky fabrics covering his lower half, with his help of course, your theories were proven to be correct. Jungkook, your hot neighbor with piercings and tattoos also had a pussy destroyer in between his legs because of course he did.

“There’s only two rules baby.”

“What are the rules?”

“You have to keep your hands to yourself and no coming until I say so. You got it?”

“Yes, darling.”

Opening the last drawer on your night stand you pulled out one of your vibrators and held it up for him to see, “is it ok if we use this?”

“Mhm.”

You shoved it in your pocket for later.

Taking him into your mouth, you began swirling your tongue in circular motions around the head of his cock. His labored pants were hushed and almost inaudible, you would’ve missed them if the two of you weren’t in complete silence.

Licking up and down his shaft you focused on pressing your tongue on the tip, as your hands began working, pumping him where your mouth couldn’t reach. You bobbed your head up and down occasionally, allowing the head of his cock pop in and out of your mouth. Slurp noises began invading the atmosphere around the two of you along with his whimpers. Your pace was fast and there were traces of your saliva coating his length entirely.

“Fuck darling,” his hands were reaching to grasp anything in his path but instead he ended up knocking everything off your night stand. “Y-Your lips were made to be around my cock. You know that?”

Jungkook’s praises were treats for your ego and you made sure to devour them in their entirety. He was a pleasant mess; his hair stuck out in all directions while his lips were swollen and vibrant with a scarlet hue as he kept biting down on them harshly. His glasses were slightly fogged and there were traces of saliva sitting on the corner of his mouth. All you wanted was to continue seeing him lose himself at your mercy.

You reached into your pocket and turned on the palm sized stimulator—you placed it against his balls before hitting the on button, setting off its vibrations. His head fell back and his hips buckled forward, causing you to gag around the majority of cock.

“I’m gonna come,” he cried out.

If anyone would’ve told you having Jungkook’s dick in your mouth would be this heavenly, you would live on your knees in front of him forever. Pleasuring him at every hour of every day but today you had different plans and once again he let out frustrated whimpers as you removed your mouth from around him.

“No—no, darling you’re fucking killing me. I need to come now,” he sounded desperate, “It hurts so bad. I need to come.”

“Don’t worry baby. We’re getting right to that,” you placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Did you bring any condoms?”

He shook his head, “I wasn’t exactly expecting things to go down this route.”

“Are you. .?”

“I’m clean. Are you?”

“I am.”

There was a timid breeze coming in through the opened window, it was enough to cool you down just a bit, well as cool as you could be without a fan.

Bouncing on Jungkook’s dick was even better than having him in your mouth. Sure, you loved the way he became a stuttering mess with the teasing of your tongue but having him deep inside of you, you felt like you were in your own heaven. On a deserted island somewhere with nothing but the swift breeze coming from the palm trees and his touch on your skin.

“You take me so well,” he whispered in your ear but you were too busy consumed by your own pleasure. Hyper focused on the way his hands dug into your waist; the way he swiftly pushed his cock in and out of you.

The sounds of your skin slapping against his blared through the room, as well as your profanities and his words of praise just as before.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as you felt a build up of tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, causing you to arch your back. Seemingly, the way you clenched around Jungkook he seemed to have noticed you were extremely close.

“Come for me darling,” with each word he buried his dick deeper into you.

It was a blissful paradise painted on the back of your eyelids as Jungkook continued to mold your insides with his dick, he was careful but rammed into you with such force, your voice was strained and you couldn’t hold it any longer. You finally came as sights of the beeming sun behind your closed eyes blinded you entirely.

“Come inside of me,” you managed; even more sweaty than how you began, absolutely tired and completely out of breath.

He chanted strings of your name as finally filled you up.

“Please come over more often and bring all of your brownies with you,” you were pressed up against him as he hugged your waist, placing a soft kiss on your head.

“How about we begin by going to that movie tomorrow?” It was so funny to you how Jungkook had practically just split you in two and now he was back to being soft spoken.

“It’s a date.”

It was now Friday, the power was finally back on around the city and Jungkook followed through on his plans to take you to the movies. The only problem was when you approached the theater you spotted your nosey landlord standing in line right beside Namjoon. “Before you say anything, Seokjin. Please just shut the fuck up.”

“You always think the worse of me,” he placed his hand on his chest, “all I was going to say is my Cupid’s bow is to thank for the two of you finally getting together.”

“In that case, thank you Seokjin,” Jungkook said.

“Don’t thank him.”

“Actually, please do. But the next time yall fuck in my building please keep it down. Just like the walls, the floors are also thin and the fifth floor did not appreciate your day of passion.”

“Seokjin, please go back to your own date,” you hissed, hoping no one else in line heard his little rant, “pretend we’re not here.”

Jungkook’s shame sat in his now red tinted cheeks, you peppered kisses on them to ease him.

“See, they can’t even keep their hands to themselves in public,” you heard Seokjin whisper.

This is going to be an interesting date.

-

-

-

a/n: this was pretty fun to write but supposed to be out on my birthday a couple days ago but i couldn’t meet the deadline sadly but please enjoy and disregard the smut scene if it’s bad. I tried lol my brain just wasn’t working 100%.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think ;)

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Introduction/Part One

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, (future) Bjorn

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Word Count: 2445

Warnings: time travel being possible, bullying, getting chased by some very confused vikings, imprisonment

Masterlist Here

"Cmon Jason. Give it a rest," you heard one of his friends tell him, but you were already crossing the bridge to get away from them.

You'd came to the park after school to relax after yet another hellish day of studying. You were a history student, obsessed with the Vikings, and sadly for some reason Jason's enemy number one. Apparently, the frat boy still held a grudge for the time you rejected him last year and decided to make your life a misery.

As you were halfway across the bridge you heard laughing then footsteps and just as you went to turn you felt him grab your bag off your shoulder. Well, he tried. You grabbed it back, yelling "help!" As his other friend tried to help him pull it away. 

You glanced behind you to see if anyone was near but no. You were alone of the bridge 6 feet at least above the deep lake. "Dude!" You heard the friend again as your head whipped back around.

"fine!" Jason yelled as he let go of the bag just as you had attempted to tug it from him. "Wait no!" You heard his voice before you felt the wood dig into your back and then heard a sickening snap.

You screamed as you felt the wind rush past your face, hair whipping around as your body hurtled headfirst towards the water. You felt your head sink in and the water ring in your ears like church bells as your eyes screwed up tight.

You waited for your head to crash against the rocks but instead felt your legs hit the soft ground, your butt and shoulders soon following. Your head hit the ground gently as a groan left your lips. As your eyes opened you realised not only did you feel no water or soggy clothing but that a scattered sunlight was washing over your face. 

"What the-" you muttered as you sat up. Your guitar bag was still clutched in one hand, your backpack hooked around your elbow, and now your earphones had been tossed behind you during the fall. That however did not concern you as much as the overwhelming greenery.

The Forrest around you had winding trees up to the sky with whispers of squirrels and rabbits in the background. You pulled yourself to your feet as your eyes scanned the woods. "Where am I?" You muttered as you grabbed your headphones and shoved them in your bag. 

You checked your phone however there was not only no signal but now the time had become dashes alongside the battery percentage. The Wi-Fi and Bluetooth signals were now just colourful blobs and even when you tried opening the emergency number call it refused to let you punch in the digits. You sighed and turned it off, hoping that by the time you found your way out the Forrest it would have rebooted so you could call your parents or maybe even a hospital since you'd obviously hit your head very hard.

You put the phone in your bag and zipped it up, even using the number lock your mother insisted you put on it to keep your bag safe. You weren't sure which way to go. After all no matter where you walked you could either be going closer or further to whatever destination would be the safest.

Fuck it. You thought. There's only one way to find out. You walked through the forest, not even trying to not step on twigs or ruffle leaves since you were probably just far deeper into the campus woods than you'd ever been before. However, then you heard voices.

Well laughter really. At least three men. Your footsteps slowed encase Jason and his friends had somehow made you lose your mind and we're torturing you but no. Instead, you held back a gasp as you peaked through the leaves to see four men with their backs to you.

One was sat on a log playing with what looked like a dagger while another two practised throwing axes. Fuck. All three were dressed as if they were Vikings. Perhaps you'd been studying them too much and had officially lost your marbles.

Or perhaps the other Viking nerds in your school had formed a club. As you debated taking a step forward one of the men missed his throw causing another to yell out a jab. As the man span round to answer his eyes stopped when he saw you. His hand shot out to nudge the man next to him who turned around.

He was a brunette man with a long braid down how back "I'm Ubbe," the boy called as he stepped forward, "Who are you? Why are you here?" He called however your eyes wandered down then widened as you saw him gripping his axe.

"Tell us!" The boy who had missed called, stepping closer. Your eyes wandered to the third who was reaching for something in his belt when you finally made up your mind.

Run. You turned, sprinting as fast as your legs could carry you. Your feet hammered against the dirt as their shouts echoed through the forest. You didn't dare glance back or stop for the branches whipping against your face. There was finally a break in the trees. Freedom. Safety you thought.

As you ran you arrived at the top of a hill. You turned to look down, expecting to see your campus when dread filled your blood. No this wasn't real. A village of Vikings now looked up at where you stood on the hill.

You stood for a moment panting as you overlooked it all. That was until you heard them again. "Stop right there!" Ubbe all but screamed. 

You ran again. To your left was a high cliff facing a grey blue ocean and to your right was 3 very angry looking Vikings. You decided to take your chances with the clueless as you barrelled down the hill into what looked to be like a market.

Despite being the least terrifying person here they all jumped out your way, gasping and screaming as you ran all while Ubbe and the others chased you. 

You were running towards a bridge by a stream and decided for one last second to glance behind you. They were just running around the corner when you felt a hand grab your foot as the other got swept up in the air.

It was as if your body took flight as you fell to the ground with a large thump. You groaned as you tried to pick yourself up just for a large hand to grab your shoulder and flip you on your back. 

As you stared at his electric blue eyes your own eyes widened. "Ivar?" You whispered and his eyes widened so much you wondered if it hurt however just as he went to speak Ubbe pulled him off him.

Ubbe. Your brain clicked. There's no possible way. It couldn't be. Surely not. Ubbes hand pulling you to your feet. "I asked you a question," he growled as you gasped for air. As much as you wanted to be tough and brave and all the other things these Vikings were being faced to face to Ubbe was too much as the spots began to cloud your vision and you felt your body fall limp as the world faded to black.

-

As you began to stir you half expected to open your eyes and see your dorm room, but the hard stick pressed against your spine made you doubtful. Your eyes opened to find yourself in a wooden cage in the corner of what looked like a bedroom. It was dark and suddenly felt very small as your hands grabbed the bars as you began to shake them.

“Fuck,” you grunted as you hit your hand against the frame but instead of it budging now your hand just hurt. Before you could try for any longer you froze when you saw the door slowly push open.

“I see what you mean,” a woman’s voice muttered as she approached your cage. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her or the men behind her, “What is she wearing?” she whispered.

“We don’t know,”

“We found her like this,”

“Do you think she’s a witch?” you felt your blood run cold at the man’s word.

The woman stood up and turned to what you soon realised were her sons. In fact, now you realised who they all were. It was Sigurd who’d claimed you may be a witch but how could he possibly be real? He was a tv character after all.

“Perhaps but we cannot know for sure yet,” Aslaug whispered to her son, “Can you speak child?” she called out to you as if she was shouting on a dog. Your head raised so you could get a better look, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

“What are we going to do?” Ubbe asked. As the four spoke amongst themselves you realised one was missing. Ivar was nowhere to be seen.

“Your father should be home any day now. We will wait for him,” Aslaug finally determined, “I have never seen someone like this. I do not wish to find out what harm she can cause alone,” with that the four turned to leave, shutting the door and leaving you in the stale dark once more.

You sighed as you leaned back against the cage however as your eyes scanned the room you noticed your bags sitting in the corner making your head instantly perk up. You knew you didn’t have anything sharp in it but as your stomach rumbled you realised what you did need. Food.

As you began to wonder how you would get to your things you heard the door crack open. You looked up as Ivar dragged himself into the room, constantly checking over his shoulder before he shut the door and brought himself over to your cage. His eyes scanned your frame as you brought your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly.

“Who are you?” he murmured, his eyes landing on your face, “and how do you know my name?” the silence that followed was only broken by the loud rumble of your stomach once more as you winced. “You’re hungry?” he asked.

Finally, you nodded, and a smile quirked onto his lips, “So you do understand?” you nodded again, “If you tell me who you are I’ll bring you something to eat,”

You paused as you decided if it was worth breaking the façade, you’d created but as your stomach churned you realised starving to death before Ragnar returned was not worth it. you whispered your name, but your voice was hoarse from lack of use.

Ivars’s head tilted slightly as his eyebrows knitted, “What a usual name,” he mused.

You bit back a laugh. “Coming from Ivar the boneless,” you muttered.

His eyes widened, a look of what you couldn’t tell if shock or rage or both washed over his face. “What did you call me?” he half yelled, grabbing onto the bars of the cage you were suddenly thankful for.

“It’s what everyone calls you!” you rushed out, pushing yourself as far away as possible, “In the textbooks that’s what legend says you were called I’m sorry,”

He paused, his hands slipping from the bar as the confused look returned, “What is a textbook?”

“Like a history book,” you said but that did little to explain it to him, “It’s like- “you paused trying to think what the closest thing to a Viking textbook was, “It’s like how you pass down stories in songs! We write them down in textbooks, so nobody forgets,”

Ivar paused for a moment as he finally relaxed again, “Where did you come from?” he asked, “And how do they know who I am? What have you told them?”

“I haven’t told them anything, my teachers they taught it to me,” you said, finally allowing yourself to sit at ease again, “I’m from the future,” the words felt foreign in your mouth as Ivar’s blue eyes widened.

“Prove it,”

“You’re Ivar the boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok,” you spoke but your voice was shaky as you tried to remember all you could, “Brother of Bjorn Ironside who explored the Mediterranean sea. Son of Aslaug. You go on to command the great heathen army,” you said and as you spoke Ivar looked like a child being read a bedtime story about pirates and mermaids, “You Ivar are a legend where I am from,” perhaps bending the truth a little but what would he know.

“And who- “

You cut him off this time when you felt your stomach lurch, “You said you would feed me. I won’t tell you anything else till you live up to your word,” you tried to sound firm, but it clearly wasn’t your style.

Still though Ivar nodded as he slowly began to drag himself away, “I shall return,” he said as he opened the door, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Don’t go anywhere,” he teased before shutting the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes as you sunk back into the wood behind you. “Oh god he really is nuts,” you whispered. Then again perhaps it was you that was nuts. After all you had just been talking to a Viking who’d died thousands of years ago.

Part two

General Taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate

Vikings Taglist: @bellroclucky03 @ringpopdust @hypocritic-trash-baby @tessakate

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.7

Chapter Summary: Joel needs to know where you were taken, so he goes to the only people who would have the answers.

Chapter Warnings: language, graphic depictions of violence, torture, blood

WC: 5.3K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"Joel!" Ellie yelled, shaking his shoulder, pulling him out of a deep sleep.

"What?" he asked, irritated as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked around, realizing the sun was up and you never woke him.

"Goddamnit," he muttered, standing and grabbing his gear. "Why didn't she wake me?"

"She's gone!" Ellie said, sounding a little breathless.

Joel felt his legs go weak and the blood rush to his head as Ellie's words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What?"

"She's gone," Ellie repeated. "Her shit's still here, though, so it's not like she left us. But I can't find her anywhere."

"W-where - what d'you mean she's... oh, shit," Joel stammered. He fell back onto the bed as his vision went narrow and his chest tightened under his palm. He felt like he could barely drag in a breath, fighting like hell to keep from passing out. He let his head hang between his knees as he struggled to breathe while the pain in his chest intensified.

"Joel?" Ellie said, her voice sounding miles away even though she was kneeling down right next to him. "Joel! What's going on?!"

"It's fine," he gasped, shaking his head, trying to clear the fog in his brain, but it was no use.

"You're not fucking fine! Are you having a heart attack? What do I do?!"

"I'm not-" Joel cut himself off and took in a ragged breath. "I'm not havin' a heart attack."

Jesus Christ, how could he let this happen?

"I'll get you some water," Ellie said, standing up to dig through his pack for his canteen. She held it out to him and he took it weakly, his hand shaking as he brought it to his lips.

"You sure she isn't patrolin' the building?" His voice was raspy as his vision began to widen again. Please, just walk through the door.

"Pretty sure. Her gun was on the ground downstairs," Ellie said, turning around to pick up the pistol from her bed to show him. He felt himself begin to spiral again and he quickly squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to be focused. He needed to get you back. He needed you to be safe.

"Put that down," he told her, rubbing his eyes.

"It's just the two of us, what if the people who took her come back?" Ellie protested, and Joel dropped his hand to glare at her.

"How d'you know she was taken?" he demanded, even though he already came to the same conclusion himself, he just wasn't ready to admit it.

"What else could it have been?" she shrugged. "Her gun's here, her pack's here, the truck is still here. And she's nowhere to be found. She wouldn't just leave us, right?"

Joel stared at Ellie for a moment, his brows furrowed as he tried to decide how much he should share with a teenager.

He just grunted in response, sitting back and taking a deep breath in while rubbing his chest, doing his best to hide the intense fear that was coursing through his veins. "I'll look around, see if there's any tracks or somethin' that might lead us in the right direction." He stood on shaky legs to scoop up his rifle.

"I'll come with you, watch your back," she said, leaning down to grab her pack.

"No you won't, you'll stay right here," Joel scolded as he headed to the door, still feeling a little lightheaded but the panic attack was subsiding.

Ellie rolled her eyes and dropped her backpack in a huff, watching as Joel made his way down the stairs towards the front door of the fire hall.

Once Joel was safely out of sight, behind a few trees where he knew Ellie couldn't see him, he fell forward and allowed himself to just be weak. First, by gripping his knees and breathing deeply, then by falling to the ground on his hands and knees, letting his head rest against the dirt as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill down his face.

How could he fuck this up so badly? How could he let this happen? He was supposed to protect you, and the first chance someone got, they took you. No wonder you didn't want to marry him or start a family. How could he possibly keep you or anybody else safe? He just failed time and time again.

Someone must have followed them and he didn't notice. He was too tired and old to recognize when he was being tailed. And it might have cost you your life.

In his craze, he had half a mind to just leave Ellie. His first instinct was to take off, knowing she would just slow him down. But you had a soft spot for the kid, and you so desperately wanted to help her. It was clear as day that you cared for her. He couldn't abandon Ellie after you risked it all to find her family. He wouldn't do that to you. Especially if it was your last wish.

"Stop thinkin' like that," he muttered to himself. With a groan, he pushed off the ground and made himself stand up. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could do this. He just had to focus. He could find you. He would find you, if it was the last thing he ever did.

He opened his eyes and looked around. What could he see? What could lead him to you? He walked the perimeter of the building, looking for any sign - a scrap of clothing, a drop of blood, anything that would draw him in the right direction, but there was nothing.

Next, he examined the truck. Why wouldn't they take the truck? He looked at the ground, hoping to find some tire tracks, but the dry fucking desert left nothing for him to trace. They must have had their own vehicle.

Frustrated, he stormed back inside, his fingers raking through his hair as he stomped up the steps.

"Find anything?" Ellie asked, jumping up from the bed. He could tell she was worried, and if he was in a better frame of mind, he might have cared. But all he could think about was you, and what was happening to you at that very moment while he wasted all this time.

"No," he said, his voice gruff as he paced the room and tried to plot his next move. Ellie watched him for a few minutes, not wanting to anger him further but trying to find the right balance and help.

"Who could've taken her? And why not all of us? Why just her?" Ellie wondered out loud.

Joel paused, her words unlocking something.

"Your uncle," Joel started, turning on her. "He told me somethin' when we were there. Said there's slavers that'll pay good money for her. Tried to convince me to -" Joel fell back on the mattress behind him, his head spinning.

"Wait, what?" Ellie asked, standing up now. "How would he know that?"

"Uh," Joel stammered, his mind going a mile a minute. He probably shouldn't have said that to her, he was just thinking out loud. If you were here, you would have known what to do.

"Did he sell me?!" Ellie's face was ghostly white as she connected the dots.

"I don't know," Joel told her, trying to focus on the main issue. He couldn't deal with this right now, he had to find you.

"He did, didn't he?" Ellie continued, tears welling up in her eyes. "That's how they got past his cameras. That's why I don't remember."

Joel sighed and looked up at her. He didn't have much of a choice.

"Yeah, probably," he finally admitted. "It's why we wanted to get you outta there. Somethin' felt off."

"Motherfuckers," Ellie muttered, and Joel raised his eyebrows.

"We gotta go back," Joel told her, standing up quickly. "Get your stuff. That asshole knows who did this."

Ellie helped direct him back to her uncle's house once a few hours passed and he got closer to the city. He stopped the truck a mile away from the house, parking in an abandoned lot, hiding among other cars, just in case.

"We'll wait til sundown," Joel said as he turned off the engine. It was only a couple hours, but each passing minute he spent not tracking you down made his stomach twist tighter and tighter.

"Then what?"

"Then, I sneak back in there, take 'em by surprise and get the information outta him," Joel replied, staring out the window, looking for any movement.

"How are you gonna get by the cameras?" Ellie asked him. He shrugged.

"Don't know. Guess I try to time it before be sets up the motion alerts. It's a gamble but it's all I got."

"You should go after dinner," she said. He turned to finally look at her, waiting for her to explain. "They like to drink after dinner."

He nodded, dropping his gaze and watching as her hands nervously fidgeted in her lap.

"I know this is your family and all-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Do what you gotta do. They aren't my family anymore," she said, blinking away the tears and looking out her window.

"Right," he said. "Reckon they aren't."

They sat a few minutes in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, before he spoke again.

"I'm sorry all this happened," he said quietly. "Ain't none of it your fault."

Ellie turned to him and tried to keep the surprise from her face.

"Thanks," was all she said, and he gave her a firm nod before reaching behind him to grab his rifle. He checked it was fully loaded before moving on to his revolver, doing the same checks. Once he was satisfied, he rummaged around in his pack for his hunter's knife, then looped it through his belt so it sat on his back hip. Ellie watched him carefully before taking a deep breath and asking him the question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to.

"What are you gonna do to them?"

He paused, then straightened up and cleared his throat.

"Whatever I have to," he said lowly, and Ellie felt a shiver travel down her spine. She didn't ask any more questions after that.

As the sun began to set, Joel took a deep breath and double checked his gear before turning to Ellie.

"Alright. I'm gonna leave the keys with you, just in case..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. Ellie's brow furrowed.

"No way, dude. I'm coming with you."

"No, you ain't," he told her. "I can't be lookin' out for a kid while I'm in there."

"You won't have to look out for me, I'll have your back!" Ellie protested angrily.

"What the hell d'you think you're gonna do?" he replied, wondering why he was wasting time arguing with a teenager.

"I don't know! But it's better than sitting in this stupid car waiting for you to get back. It's not very safe, you know. Leaving a kid all alone out here," she told him, trying everything she could think of to change his mind. He clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. He didn't have time for this, he just needed to get the information and get the hell out of here.

"Fine. But you better stick by me, and listen to what I tell you," he seethed, then pushed the door open and hopped out, adjusting his pack over his shoulders as he headed in the direction of the house.

Joel couldn't believe he was having the same argument with Ellie that he has with you. Fuck, he hoped you were okay. If Ellie made it out alive with the same people, you should be able to, right? He couldn't ignore the pit in his stomach when he regrettably let his mind wander to what they would want from you. As far as he knew, Ellie was just used for manual labor. But history as proven there's something else men in particular want from you.

Once they got within earshot of the house, Joel held his arm out silently to stop Ellie. He turned his head to her and pressed a finger up against his lips, telling her to be quiet. She nodded, her breath quickening as her nerves began to set in, then followed close on Joel's tail as they made their way up to the house. He ducked under the window and flattened himself up against the siding, his eyes darting up to look at the cameras angled on the corners of the roof before slowly rising and peering over the windowsill.

The curtains were closed, but he was able to see in just a crack. The living room lights were on but he didn't see any movement inside. Just when he was about to give up and try a different angle, he heard June's muffled voice. He froze, watching as she waddled into the living room from the kitchen with a glass in her hand, her cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. She didn't appear to be alarmed, so Joel took that to mean they managed to sneak by the cameras undetected.

He reached to his side and wrapped his fingers around the grip of his revolver, slowly pulling it out of his holster and holding it up in front of him. He continued to watch as Dave ambled into the living room, holding a short glass with brown liquid in it. He set the glass down and bent over to tend to the fire.

Joel ducked back down and quickly made his way around the house to the sliding glass door that led into the kitchen. Ellie followed hot on his heels, her switchblade clutched tightly in her fist. He peered around the corner, making sure nobody came back into the kitchen before he tugged on the door. Locked. He put his revolver back in the holster and took out his knife, working over the lock with ease and slowly sliding the glass door open. Once Ellie was inside, he switched his knife for his gun. He flattened his hand and pushed it down, silently telling her to stay right here. She nodded, squatting down behind one of the kitchen chairs so she was out of sight.

He flattened himself against the wall next to the doorway that led from the kitchen to the living room, listening to June and Dave talk about the meal they had just eaten, like they hadn't just sold a human being into slavery yet again. Based on the volume of her voice, he realized that June was heading back into the kitchen. He took a deep breath and widened his stance, the gun in his palm gripped tight as he waited for his moment.

"Did you want any cookies?" June asked over her shoulder. "Just made 'em today, they're-"

She let out a strangled cry as Joel hooked his arm tightly around her throat, spinning her around and pulling her back flush against his chest, his revolver pressing into her temple.

"Junebug?" Dave called, setting down his glass and pushing himself up from the sofa. Joel pushed her forward, the both of them stepping out into the living room, Joel using her body as a shield. Dave froze and Joel watched as all the blood drained from his face.

"What, weren't expectin' me?" Joel growled, and June whimpered against him.

"Wha-" Dave started, then swallowed audibly before trying again. "What'dya want?"

"I want you to tell me who the fuck you called, and where their camp is," Joel said through clenched teeth.

"I didn't call no one," Dave said, his eyes flitting around the room, trying to locate a weapon.

"Don't even think 'bout it," Joel warned, and Dave chuckled.

"C'mon, you ain't gonna hurt a woman," he said. Before Dave could blink, Joel pointed his revolver down to the ground and shot June right through the foot. She howled, her body instinctively bending forward to grab her wound, but Joel tugged her back.

"Better start talkin', or I won't be so nice next time."

"Okay, okay! Jesus!" Dave yelled, holding his hands up in the air and waving them, trying to calm Joel down. "Let her go, then I'll talk."

"Don't think so," Joel said.

"Listen, tie us up or somethin', just let her go," Dave pleaded.

"Funny hearin' you beg for your woman's life when you just sold mine to the highest bidder. Why should I be so generous?"

Dave was beginning to panic, his breaths were coming fast and his hands were shaking.

"You're right, I'm sorry, you're right. Just- please. Please. I'll tell ya whatever you wanna hear, just let her go."

Joel didn't have time for this. He didn't want to waste another minute arguing with this asshole when he could be heading to wherever you were. So, he agreed.

"Fine. I'll let her go, but I'm tyin' you both up," he said, turning back towards the kitchen and dragging June with him. He opened up a few drawers, leaving them rummaged through and open until he found a junk drawer with a pack of zip ties. He snatched them up and pushed June back into the living room. Tossing the pack on the floor, he nodded at Dave.

"Go ahead. Tie yourself up, then I'll do her," Joel said.

"Now, wait a minute. I ain't gonna tie myself first and have you go back on your word."

"Of the fucking two of us, I ain't the one who's lied, and you ain't the one to be makin' any goddamn demands!" Joel roared, his chest heaving. Dave cowered, raising his hands higher above his head and nodded.

"Alright, alright," he said shakily, then slowly leaned forward to pick up the zip ties. He opened the pack and was about to wrap up his wrists, but Joel stopped him.

"Ankles, too," he said. Dave looked like he was about to protest but thought better of it.

After tying his ankles and his hands at his waist, he limply tossed the pack of ties across the floor towards Joel.

"Sit down," he told June through gritted teeth, pushing her down into the armchair. She plopped down into the chair with a whimper, then quickly leaned down to clutch her foot.

Joel let his guard down for a minute. Just one minute to pick up the zip ties and it was all June needed. She brought her good leg down on the back of his head, knocking him down to the ground and sending his gun skittering across the room. His head bounced off the floor, making him see stars for a moment before he scrambled to try to stand back up, but she brought her leg down across his back with enough force to knock him down again.

"You son of a bitch!" she screeched at him. She tried to stand and grab his gun, but she stumbled, the bullet wound in her foot making her unable to walk.

"Get the gun, Junebug!" Dave yelled from his spot on the sofa. "Get the gun and shoot him in the goddamn head!"

Joel rolled onto his back to create distance from her so he could finally stand up. When he did, he realized the room had gone deathly silent. He swiveled his head around, trying to figure out why they stopped screaming, and then he saw Ellie. She was standing in the doorway with his rifle trained on June's head, her eyes hard and her hands still.

"Ellie," June whispered. She inched forward on the ground towards her, but Ellie just cocked the rifle. June froze.

"Ellie, you shoot that fucker right between the eyes," Dave ordered from the couch. When it became apparent that Ellie was not on their side, Joel bent down to pick up his revolver with a grunt. Dave nervously glanced back and forth between her and Joel.

"Ellie-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Did you sell me to them, too?" Her voice was unwavering, her gaze like daggers.

"'Course not," June said, interrupting them.

"Really? Then how'd he know who to call? How'd they get past your cameras?"

"How did you get past 'em?" June shrieked. "It ain't impossible!"

"June, just give it up," Dave said from behind her, his shoulders sagging.

The room was silent. Joel looked over at Ellie, then back at Dave.

"Gimme the gun, kiddo," Joel said gently, taking a step toward her with his hand out.

"I wanna hear him say it," she said, her grip tightening on the stock.

"Fine, we sold ya, that what you wanna hear? Paid for half the shit in that basement, too, and look at you - you're fuckin' fine!" Dave shouted, spit spraying from his lips. Ellie's brows furrowed and her eyes lit up in rage.

"What? You gonna kill me?" Dave asked with a laugh.

"She won't," Joel said, stepping in front of the rifle, blocking Ellie's shot. "But I will."

Dave's smile faltered as he looked up at Joel.

"Ellie?" Joel said over his shoulder, his eyes still glued to Dave.

"Yeah?"

"You got headphones?"

"Yeah."

"Go upstairs, put 'em on," Joel said, holding his arm out to his side. She paused for a moment before dropping the gun from her shoulder and handing him the rifle, then turned to head up the stairs.

"Wait! Ellie!" June sobbed, tears streaming down her face. But Ellie kept walking. "I'm sorry!" June added, hoping she would garner some sympathy.

"No, you ain't," Joel muttered, leaning the gun against the wall before turning back to her. "But you're gonna be."

An hour. He wasted a whole fucking hour with these assholes, playing their stupid games and listening to their pathetic pleas until his eye caught the time on the wall and his anger flared. He needed to get on the road. He needed to find you. He wouldn't be able to sleep or eat until he did.

He had them both tied up, sitting on the floor with their backs to each other. Dave was partially right. Joel didn't like the idea of hurting a woman. So he went relatively easy on her. However, after that hour was up, she was still bruised and bloodied, but it was nothing compared to Dave.

Dave was barely holding on to consciousness and unfortunately was trying to feed Joel false information on where you were taken. He caught him in a lie twice already, and his anger got the best of him both times. With a sigh, he stood up and flexed his bloodied hand.

"You still with me?" Joel asked, leaning over Dave's body. He heard a grunt in response.

"Can't do much more to you, you'll pass out. So I'm sorry to have to do it," Joel walked around in a circle slowly, stopping when he found himself in front of June. "But I'll have to start takin' her fingers."

June began sobbing again and behind her, Dave groaned. Joel took the bloodied knife he had set on the coffee table and held out his arm.

"Gimme your hand," he told June calmly, and her sobbing turned into hysterics, her tied hands pressed firmly into her lap.

"Gimme your fuckin' hand, or tell me where they took her!" he roared, making her jump.

"I'll tell you!" she said, tears and snot streaming down her face. Joel felt a bit of relief, then leaned back to grab the map from his back pocket.

"Point to it. And it better be the same spot he points to," he said darkly. She nodded and lifted her hands shakily after squinting at the map.

"There," she said. He peered down, noting she pointed to a hospital in Salt Lake City, and his blood ran cold. He wasn't certain, but it appeared to be the same hospital he and Tommy were supposed to take Ellie. He stood up and walked back around to Dave, who was glaring up at him through one eye, the other was swollen shut.

"They'll kill us," Dave said weakly when Joel held out the map.

"Shoulda thought 'bout that before doin' business with a bunch of slavers," Joel told him bitterly.

"I ain't tellin' you shit," Dave said, squaring his shoulders. June began whimpering behind him.

"That's okay," Joel said, dropping the map on the coffee table. "I believe her."

He rammed the hunting knife through Dave's chest with a grunt. The man let out a small squeal before his head fell forward limply. June screamed and tried to scoot away on the floor, but Joel grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back.

"Shut up, or you're next," he snarled, and her screams immediately stopped.

"It's no use," she sobbed, leaning forward and gasping for air. "You won't get her back. It's been too long, they move 'em around so fast-"

Joel had enough. He took the butt of his rifle and hit her in the back of the head, knocking her unconscious.

She may think he wouldn't get you back, but she had no idea what he's capable of.

The drive back north was quiet. Ellie saw the blood on Joel's hands and clothes. Even though he did his best to clean up before bringing her downstairs, she still pieced it together. He had hid Dave's body in the basement with the camera equipment, then dragged June down there, still unconscious, and tied her loosely to a workbench. She could eventually figure out how to get out of the restraints. It was just to ensure he had enough time to put distance between them. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to kill her. But at the last minute, he did decide to grab one of those AK-47s Dave was bragging about two days ago.

Ellie didn't ask questions. She stared silently out the window, lost in thought about her own flesh and blood betraying her. Then she glanced at Joel, realizing this man who couldn't stand the sight of her just a week ago did more for her than her own family.

"Thank you," she finally said, breaking the silence. He blinked and turned his head briefly to look at her.

"You're welcome," he said gruffly. "You didn't, uh, see or hear anythin', did'ya?"

"No," she said, and Joel sighed with relief.

"Good."

He picked up the speed when he reached a part of the interstate that was flat, determined to reach you as soon as possible.

"They told me they took her to a hospital in Salt Lake City," he said after a while, and she looked up from her sketch pad as she listened. "I think it might be the same spot the Fireflies wanted us to take you."

"Oh," she said, sitting back in her seat, deep in thought. "I wonder why they wanted her there."

"What'dya mean?"

Ellie paused, remembering Joel still didn't know the real reason Marlene asked him to take her. She decided to be somewhat honest with him, considering all he had done for her, it was the least she could do.

"It's a research facility," she said.

"Research? For what?"

"I overheard some stuff once. They're trying to find a cure," she said. "For the virus."

"A cure?" Joel repeated, furrowing his brow. "The hell they need her for?"

Ellie chewed her lip nervously before answering.

"Test subjects," she finally said, her face falling. Joel swallowed thickly as the implication behind her words set in.

"Ellie," he said slowly, gripping the wheel tightly. "Do you know that for a fact?"

"Yes," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I had a friend. She was taken there, she never came back. I found out later what happened," she sniffed, quickly wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye.

"And that's why they wanted us to take you there? To test a cure on you?"

"Yeah," Ellie lied, shifting her gaze out the window, immediately feeling guilty. She wasn't lying about the test subjects, but she didn't feel comfortable yet telling him it was her blood they wanted to test next.

Joel drove through the night, his eyes bloodshot and his fingers numb, but he made it in about 8 hours. It was still dark out as he found a secluded spot a couple blocks away and parked the truck. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, wondering how the hell he was going to do this. Ellie stirred in the seat next to him, yawning and stretching before looking around.

"Are we here?"

"Yeah. Hospital's that tall building over there," he said, pointing to the side. She looked through the window and nodded before looking back at Joel.

"You should get some rest," she told him, but he shook his head.

"Can't."

"Yeah, you can. How do you think you're gonna do this when you've been up for, what, a day and a half?"

"I don't got a choice, they could be doin' shit to her right now," he argued, then leaned over the seat to grab the hunting rifle.

"They've only had her for a day, she's fine. Most they did at this point was inject her with an experimental vaccine. They don't test it for a few days," she explained, sitting back in her seat. Joel frowned.

"How do you know all this?"

Ellie shrugged and nervously chewed on her nail.

"Just do."

Joel just stared at her. He was beginning to realize she was hiding something from him, but he couldn't worry about it yet. He didn't think Ellie would have any reason to lie to him, so he considered his options: take her word for it and get some rest so he could be as strong as possible to take all those fuckers down, or go in blind and weak right now and hope for the best.

"And when you say they 'test it', d'you mean..."

"They keep infected in there," she said with a nod. "Best way to test it is to get bit and watch."

"Fuck," Joel whispered, shakily running his hand over his mouth as he stared out the windshield. "You're gonna tell me how you know all this shit after we get her back, you hear me?" His tone was firm and his jaw was set as he shot her a glare. She nodded.

"Alright," he said after a moment, breathing in deeply. "Here's the plan. You keep watch, I try to get some rest for a couple hours. Then we move. Before I just storm in there, I gotta see what we're dealin' with. Think you can handle that?" He finally turned to Ellie and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

"Yeah," she said, sitting up in her seat. "I can handle it."

Reluctantly, Joel handed her the rifle. She eagerly took it from his grip.

"For the scope. So you can see anythin' comin' our way when I'm out," he explained, then eyed up the way she was holding the gun. "You ever use one of these things?"

"No, can't be that hard, can it? Just point and shoot," she said with a shrug as she examined the firearm. Joel sighed before leaning over and giving her a quick tutorial.

"Just don't fuckin' shoot me when I'm sleepin'," he told her, then tipped the seat back and bunched his coat up around his neck, closing his eyes. She grinned then took her post, scanning the perimeter every few minutes for any movement while Joel snored softly in the driver's seat.

Ellie weighed her options. Should she tell him the truth? Should she tell him she's immune? Would it even matter? She decided against it for now. It wouldn't change the plan. Maybe one day she would tell him. Once they got you back and the three of you were safely back in Jackson. For now, she had to stay focused and help rescue you. She wouldn't let the Fireflies take another one of her friends.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark @merz-8 @sarahhxx03 @oscarissac2099 @motherjoel @silas-222 @b3l1nd5 @rocket-raccoon-silvie

[kpop---scenarios]

Day Four: Jisung - Part Two

Pairing: Jisung x Reader

Warning: A little frolicking.. mostly smut. Smuuuut. [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT READ.]

Word Count: 1k

Previous Chapters: Here

“This was such a good idea.” Your best friend, Han laughs as the two of you frolic through the water on a small island you had found not terribly far from the main beach. Getting time together with Han and no screaming fans, no paparazzi was seemingly impossible. The two of you wanted to hangout with no pressure, where you could be yourselves.

So when you suggested to Han you two paddle out to this island on a little boat, he was all for it. You ran around in your bikini and Han in his swim trunks. You played games, took your own pictures and spent the day laughing until the two of you heard the familiar screams of fans who thought they had spotted him. The two of you panic, running up the beach, grabbing your phones and the boat only.

“Lay down.” You urge. “They won't be able to see you and it'll look like it's just me paddling.”

Han quickly lays down in the boat before you get in. You hadn't noticed where you were straddling him, you were too preoccupied with trying to get the two of you out of there. You were facing away from him, your ass sitting on his lower stomach while your pussy was right on top of his cock. You paddle as hard and fast as you can to get away, you can hear the girls yelling, asking where he was. “I only see a girl?? Where's Han?” They say to each other, clearly annoyed.

As you paddle, you hit waves making you bounce slightly on top of Han. You can't see him, but he's biting his lip and covering his face to keep himself from moaning. He was doing everything he possibly could to not get hard right now, but the way you were bouncing on him felt so fucking good, and he was losing this battle.

“Hannie.” You say. You can feel his cock harder underneath you. “Are you getting hard?” You giggle.

“Well fuck, Y/N, What else did you think was gonna happen when your rubbing yourself all over me.” He says.

“It's not my fault there's waves in the ocean.” You laugh.

“You could have sat anywhere else.” He scoffs.

“Like on your face?” You ask, turning your head to look at him. His eyes go wide as he stares at your smiling face.

“Do you wanna sit on my face?” He asks with a smile.

“I'd love to.” You tell him. “But right now, on this boat, we'd probably sink.” You say.

“You're right. But fuck now I'm even hornier.” He sighs. “You keep bouncing like that, I'm gonna have to stick my cock in you.” He moans. You keep your head turned, looking at him as you start grinding on him. Slowly dragging your clothed pussy over his semi hard dick.

“Why are you teasing me?” He sighs. “This is fucking torture.” You scoot yourself up slightly onto his stomach more before pulling his trunks down, letting his cock spring free.

“Mhmmm, thick.” You say.

“What are you doing?” He breathes. Your clit begins to throb at the sight of his cock. God, you just wanted him to ram it so far down your throat you choked on it, over and over again.

“I'm relieving you of your uncomfortableness.” You tell him. You get onto your knees, moving your bikini bottoms to the side before spitting in your hand, wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking him slowly.

“Oh fuck.” He groans. “I'm so tired of my own hand.”

You chuckle as you move back down, hovering over him until you sit down, his cock stretching you out unlike you've ever had before. “Oh my god.” You gasp as you fully sit down on him.

“You feel so fucking good.. shit.” He gasps. You slowly start rocking your hips, the waves making you bounce so much, you barely need to do anything. You reach your hand between your lips, rubbing your clit as you ride his cock.

“Are you rubbing your clit?” He groans.

“Yes.” You pant. Between his cock making you feel so fucking full and your clit being rubbed, you weren't sure how long you were going to last.

“So fucking hot. Rub your clit until you cum, I want your cum dripping down my fucking cock.” He groans, gripping your ass, pushing you up before slamming you back down on his cock.

“Fuck.” You pant, bouncing harder on top of him. The teasing you had done earlier has already made you so fucking wet.

“Your cunt is fucking dripping.” He groans as he thrusts up, ramming his cock deeper inside of you. “Say my name.” He grunts.

‘Han.. fuck.” You cry out.

“Cum baby, cum all over my dick.” He spits. Ramming into you even harder. That was it. That was all you needed to cum, your orgasm spasming through your body. “That's it, fucking shit, clench again.” He groans.

You clench your drenched pussy around him again and again. He cries out, thrusting as hard as he possibly can, while being in a little paddle boat.

“God, I'm gonna cum.” He gasps.

“Cum in my pussy.” You moan, grabbing your tits.

“That's so fucking hot.” He moans as he cums hard, deep inside you. “Oh my.. christ.” He pants. Riding through his orgasm.

“Pl..please stop clenching. It hurts.” He half laughs, half whimpers.

“I'm sorry, we're stuck like this until we get back to shore.” You giggle. “Maybe I can make you cum again, I'm sure I will.”

“Next time, I will not eat your pussy. And I've got an immaculate tongue game.” He groans.

“Oh, so you think this is going to happen again?” You laugh.

“Oh it absolutely fucking will. And you're gonna be in for a hell of a night if you don't get off my cock now.” He whines.

“Oh yeah? Whatcha got planned?” You ask, bouncing a little more.

“When we get back to the dorms, I'm going to either overstimulate you so fucking hard, or deny your orgasms all fucking night.” He spits.

“Ooh, that sounds fun. Is that a threat or a promise?” You ask.

“It's a threat and a promise.” He groans.

[marvelouslizzie]

just let me make you feel better

summary: after a long day of work, you finally come back home and rest. your period is making your day miserable but your boyfriend is here to help you.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, period comfort, established relationship, pet names, mentions of menstruation pain, a little bit of period stigma, comfort offering, sexual activity during the period, nipple play, clit play, fingering, after care, obviously blood, unrealistic portrayal of male partners, no mention of y/n.

a/n: I just wanted to write a Bucky Barnes offers to comfort you during your period story so here we are. Unfortunately, this kind of care is really rare so I’m sorry for fucking up your expectations about men. Most of them don’t even do the bare minimum. This concept would shock them but don’t settle for anything less.

Thank you @notafunkiller and @es1dit for beta-reading and helping me better this story. Love you both!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

God, you can’t wait for this day to be over. It’s not the worst day of your life, you know it, but still, the freaking pain just doesn’t want to go away. At least, not completely. It finds different ways to crawl back to you and keep you suffering.

You tried a lot of stuff, starting with good old painkillers. There’s no denying that the pill is helping you, but it’s just not good enough. Your back is hurting, joints are feeling sore and there’s still a headache on the back of your head that no matter how many painkillers you take, keeps lingering and torturing you. Like bleeding isn’t enough.

Yeah, being on your period and working at the same time is no fun. It’s not even bearable. Still, you make it through the day and come back just to drop on the couch. You really want to get rid of these clothes, take a hot shower and change into something comfortable, but you just don’t have the energy. Mentally, you are already doing all this stuff, imagining how good it would feel to stand under the hot water and just let it relax your muscles. Yet your legs don't want to move. You just lay on the couch like a bag of potatoes.

As you drift between sleep and being awake, you hear the keys jingling, signaling that your boyfriend is home. Is it weird that you can already smell him while he’s standing across the room? You have no idea but you can. It just feels like something…  familiar. You have no idea how it works, but it makes you feel safe even though he did nothing but step into the apartment.

“Darling?” Bucky calls out because he isn’t used to not being greeted by you when he comes home. Usually, you are either going toward him or yelling “Welcome home, baby” from wherever you are.

You can’t find the strength to call out so you groan a little while raising your hand. God, his expression changes so quickly. He walks towards you at a trot.

“Are you alright?”

“I am.” You are just exhausted, nothing out of the ordinary. Especially not at this time of the month.

“Are you sure? You don’t look alright.”

“It’s that time of the month again.” The worried expression on his face slowly fades away when he notices you are actually alright. It makes you wonder what he thought happened to you, but you don't ask him.

“Oh, darling…” His voice is so caring. Your period completely saps you of your energy and he knows it. He knows how you suffer or what you do to make yourself feel better. “Did you take a painkiller?”

“Yes.” Of course, you did. That was the first thing you thought of.

“When?”

You stop for a second to think. “In the morning and after lunch.”

“So you can take another one now, right?” 

That’s a good question. You can take another pill, but your stomach is already protesting at that thought. You should eat something before taking it, but you don’t feel like cooking. Even the thought is exhausting.

“But first you will need food.” God, is he reading your mind or what?

“I don’t feel like–” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s already standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

“I will prepare something for you.” When your words register, he turns around and looks at you. “You don’t wanna eat anything?”

“No, no. I was going to say I don’t feel like preparing anything.” 

“Oh, that’s fine.” He turns around. “Don’t worry. I will make your favorite.”

You have yet to learn what he means by that because you have many favorites. A meal, sandwich, snack, or dessert? You find out what he means when he comes back with your favorite sandwich, a glass of water, and the painkiller you use only during your period. You love him for paying enough attention to notice that.

“Eat while I draw a bath for you. Warm water should help.”

Why didn’t you think about filling the tub and just sitting there? The thought of laying there for a while sounds so much more appealing than a quick shower. It doesn’t take long for you to finish the whole sandwich and take the pill. Your stomach isn’t protesting anymore, and neither are your taste buds. Still, the pain and that discomfort are there, lingering and making you regret being born. Men don’t have to suffer like this and it’s so unfair! You hate mankind for that privilege. While you are lost in your thoughts, Bucky comes out of the bathroom and you notice: No, you don’t hate the whole of mankind. There’s one exception. You can’t hate Bucky when he’s the most thoughtful person you've ever met.

“The bathtub is ready for you. Did you finish your sandwich?” He kind of sounds like a teacher or a parent, checking if you did everything you were supposed to.

“Yep, all done.” You gesture to the plate. “Took the painkiller, too.”

“Good job, doll.” He comes closer without taking his eyes off of you. “Wanna head to the bathroom now?”

“Yes, but I need to take some clothes with me first.”

“Don’t worry, I will take care of it. Just get in there and relax, okay?”

You just nod with a small smile on your lips. When he takes care of you like this, you feel so lucky and so seen. You never asked him to do any of this stuff for you. Occasionally, you just said “I don’t feel like cooking” thinking you would order take out or you asked for a painkiller, but he registered all that information and started to do things without you asking. Seeing how he paid attention and cared about you just makes you feel valued.

You have no idea how long you have been laying in the bathtub. It was nearly perfect with the bubbles and the scent. You expected him to show up and tell you what to do next, but that did not happen. After a while, you decide to properly clean yourself and drain the bathtub. That’s when you notice he put your towels to warm on the radiator, which instantly makes you smile. You wrap your hair with one and dry your body with the other. Thinking you might bleed around, you quickly leave the bedroom to find your clothes. 

While you are thinking if you should go for a pad or a tampon, you find your missing boyfriend in your bedroom. Your clothes are already chosen and set aside, your favorite pajamas waiting for you.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“A little better. The painkiller started to work its magic.” You walk towards your clothes to put them on as quickly as possible, still thinking about the blood.

Bucky quickly gets in your way. “No need to rush.”

“No, no, I really need to rush.” He gives you a look that makes you think he's confused. “I don’t have a tampon on. I will bleed on the floor.”

“And?” His tone is so carefree, it confuses you.

“And we will have to clean it, Bucky.” You state the obvious.

“Then we will clean it.” He makes things sound so natural, so casual. Like it’s the most normal thing on earth, but you are conditioned to think that you shouldn’t bleed around, that you should take care of any mess you make.

“You don’t wanna see that.”

“Maybe I do.” His answer comes instantly, surprising you.

“Believe me, you don’t.” You make a move in the direction of your clothes, but Bucky doesn’t let you.

“Bucky!” 

“Darling, I have been fighting for god knows how long. Do you think your period blood would disturb me?” His question sounds so genuine, you stop to think for a second. He has a point, but not really. It's a different kind of blood.

“I mean it’s not the same, is it?” 

“Yeah, it’s not.” The confirmation you expect finally comes. “I’m used to seeing blood caused by violence, not by nature.”

Wait, what?

You don’t know how to react to this. Of course, it is natural, but it is also torture and it makes a mess every time. A huge mess. Usually, your exes were disturbed by the idea, keeping a respectful distance while you were on your period, but apparently not Bucky. His fingers were already grazing your skin carefully. He looks into your eyes, asking for permission silently.

“I really don’t feel like it, Bucky.” You hate saying no to him, but the pain is still there. You are sure it will make things uncomfortable.

“I’m just asking for permission to touch you, doll. I’m not asking for anything else.” He keeps confusing you tonight. 

“What do you mean?”

“Just let me make you feel better.” His answer is simple, but not enough for you to understand his meaning. What does he mean by that?

“I think having you there now isn’t a great idea, Buck. I’m in pain and a little bit too sensitive.” You try to explain as simply as possible.

“Darling… There are other ways to make you feel better, or did you forget about those? Maybe I should remind you, huh?” Gosh, the smug smile creeping up his lips… It sends shivers down your spine. “Just lay down.” He gestures to the bed.

“I will blee–”

“Shh…” He doesn’t let you finish. “Just be a good girl and stop thinking too much.”

For fuck's sake… A good girl? He definitely knows how to shut your brain up. You slowly sit down on the bed and notice a big towel under you. He already thought about everything, so you won’t have to worry. So you can just enjoy this. If that’s what he wants, you can do that. You can shut your mind for a short while and try to enjoy yourself. 

As he lies down next to you, he turns his entire body in your direction and props himself up on his elbow. His flesh fingers start to caress your skin very lightly, making their way to the towel you wrapped around your body. 

“It is time to…” His fingers work quickly to undo the towel. “...take this off.”

He sounds somehow impatient. Maybe just to see you naked or hear the sounds you make while he touches you all the ways he knows you love. His fingers move to your nipple, fingertips grazing over carefully. As he touches you so lightly, another wave of goosebumps washes over you. It's not normal for you to be this sensitive, but your nipples are already hard. Your lips tremble as he moves closer and gives one a long lick.

“God, damn it.” You mutter and he instantly looks up.

“Should I stop?” The way he asks the question shows how concerned and focused he is.

“No, no.” You take a deep breath. “Just be gentle. I’m just…”

“Sensitive, I know.” He smiles and dives back in. His tongue swirls around your nipple over and over again until you start to cry out.

“Fuck!” That’s so unexpected. The pleasure you are feeling is foreign. Nipple play never felt like this before. “It feels so– so good.”

He moves his mouth away with a wet pop just to say: “Yes, surrender yourself to the feeling, darling.” Then he goes back to sucking your nipple, while his metal hand is massaging your other breast. It’s such an amazing change after feeling pain for hours and you can’t help but crave more. Your hips are rising unintentionally. Bucky’s flesh hand moves down to your body, sliding between your folds really carefully, but it makes you push your hips up again.

You've never felt this wet in your life. You are sure your period has a lot to do with it, but god… That’s not the only reason. The way he’s paying attention to your breasts, the way his index finger is working between your folds… It feels like magic. His fingers start rubbing on your clit and the next thing you know you're moaning his name over and over again. Whenever you moan, his tongue becomes more relentless around your nipple. The pleasure hits you suddenly, it takes your breath away.

“Buck–” Your back arches like a bow. “Oh my go–”

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second. His fingers and tongue work you through your orgasm until you start to feel a little sensitive. You let a long breath out, proving how satisfied you feel.

Finally, he lets go of your nipple and looks up. Hair messed up, lips swollen and eyes glossy. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You breathe out again and it makes him smile widely. So fucking widely… “I feel great.” His hand rests on your pussy while his head is on your upper body. You lean down a little and he meets you in the middle in a messy kiss. God, his lips are the most delicious thing you've ever tasted. They're nearly sweet and just intoxicating.

You sigh loudly, feeling so much better than before. The pain is the last thing on your mind. You actually think about a possible second orgasm already and a little smile creeps up on your lips.

“What?” He asks wondering what you are thinking.

“I think I want a bit more.” 

“Oh, you do?” He is fully smirking now. You just nod while biting one side of your lower lip. “Would it be okay if I put my fingers inside? Would that be comfortable for you?”

“I hope so. We can try and if it’s uncomfortable, I'll tell you.”

“What a good girl you are.”

Before you can say anything in return, his fingers move a little down and he pushes one of them inside.

“Bucky!” The sudden pleasure catches you off guard.

“Sorry, sorry. I will go slow.” He moves himself a little bit up, just to be able to kiss you comfortably. You look at him and excitement is written all over his face. He’s actually enjoying this even though he isn’t getting off himself, and you love how your pleasure affects him. Licking your lips, you close the little distance between you two. 

He kisses you deeply while moving his finger in and out. He’s using just one, but dear god… you are so sensitive. It feels so good even though you aren’t completely filled. Slowly, he pushes the second finger inside, crooking them and rubbing them along a spot where you can see stars. Your mouth suddenly opens as you let out a loud moan. You are unable to kiss him back, it feels like your whole body just tensed up and your muscles stopped working.

“Yes! God, yes.” You manage to say while he keeps on working. “Just like that.”

“Don’t worry, doll.” He speeds up a little. “I won’t stop.”

He keeps working his fingers while kissing your neck. You can feel your second orgasm approaching and it feels so good, but also not enough.

“Please…” You beg without thinking. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want.” His voice sounds so deep, so full of desire.

“Faster. A little faster.” You take a deep breath. “I’m so– close.”

He doesn’t make you ask twice, just starting to move his fingers a little faster and that’s all it takes. 

“Bucky!” You scream so loudly that it surprises even you, but it’s too late to bite your lip. The overwhelming pleasure takes over, making you scream so loudly that Bucky thinks all your neighbors know what you are up to. And he doesn’t care. They should know he is the one making you feel this good. He is the one who makes you forget about your pain and mindlessly moan his name like a prayer.

When you come down from your high, you feel boneless. It’s like your whole body relaxed after the blinding pleasure. Maybe it’s the mixture of the orgasms and the painkiller you took, but you are too tired to care. 

While you stretch your arms, you notice Bucky isn’t next to you anymore. You look around to see where he went and he comes out of the bathroom with another towel in his hand.

“Looking for me?” God, his smile is so smug, but you can’t blame him. The way you just screamed his name without having his cock inside you… That must have boosted his ego. Rightfully so. His fingers are magical. And his tongue. Also his lips. The way he turns you on so much and pulls this pleasure out of you is unbelievable.

“Yes. Why did you leave me?” You know he didn’t but you like to play.

“Just got a wet towel for you.” He kneels in front of the bed, between your legs and you prop up on your elbows to see what he’s doing. He gently moves the towel on your thighs and wipes the blood he smeared while making you scream his name.

“I could clean myself. You didn’t have to.” 

“I know you can, doll. Nobody said you can’t.” He rubs the towel against your slit and you jump a little, feeling sensitive. He notices your reaction and tries to do it more carefully. “I just want to help you.” After he’s done wiping, he folds the towel and puts it away. Immediately after, he grabs your clothes and helps you get dressed: your underwear first (and no, he did not forget about the pads), then your pajamas. In a couple of seconds, you're clean and all dressed up. “Now it’s time to rest.”

You move backward and get under the covers while watching him collect the towels all over the room and put them in the dirty laundry bin. It amazes you how he doesn’t forget about anything. He doesn’t let any small detail bother or worry you. You hear him washing his hands and he comes back with a smile on his face. 

You don’t know how you got this lucky. Having a loving and caring boyfriend like him… Getting taken care of like this… You remember how your friends talk about their boyfriends and how they do absolutely nothing. You know that’s not how a relationship should be, but you also know how rare this is. Your eyes wander back to him while he is getting undressed, showing you how incredibly hard he is. Yet he didn’t even make a move to relieve himself. He didn’t ask for a hand or begged to be inside you like he does sometimes. He put you first and unfortunately that’s even rarer.

He quickly puts on his pajamas and slips right next to you in bed. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you closer. You carefully move your hand down and palm his still rock-hard erection.

“Nope.” His answer is simple yet firm.

“Let me take care of you, Bucky.” You try to say as sweetly as possible. You want to return the favor.

“Not tonight, darling.” He gently moves your hand away. “But I promise, you can do whatever you want to me when you feel better, alright?”

“Alright.” He’s right. You are feeling sleepy already, you can do this another time. 

After all, you are his and he is yours. You have all the time in the world.

He pulls you even closer, putting his head on your shoulder behind your back.

“It’s time to sleep.”

“I love you Bucky.” You say while feeling the weight on your eyelids. It’s hard to keep them open.

“I love you too, darling.”

[nephalem-da]

HELLOOOOOOOOOO

I COME WITH A REQUEST.

Can you please write an Bill Cipher x GN! reader, where reader is just insanely tired of his antics and his behaviour and just lashes out at him? (love me some angst, especially for triangle..)

Like, they come home and he's just trashed their house or messes with personal/memorable stuff or brings weird objects in the house to torture them? (maybe he makes bugs randomly appear in rooms for no good reason or he sets the kitchen table on fire and makes all the water disappear) and they are just fed up.

So they come home one day and there he is again, as usual. And obviously, it's Bill Cipher (their partner), so he's going to act like it's completely normal or even appropriate so he just doesn't care about anything, but on this day they've had enough. So they start yelling and screaming out of frustration, yelling at him at how 'annoying' and 'horrific' he is and how 'he only has an existence in being an asshole' and just making comments about how tired they are of him..

And he just sits back, shocked. He's not really one to care or even be shocked at something, (especially something along these lines) so to see them just cry out of frustration and get so angry because of him? Oh he'd fucking freak out. Like, he's just gone pale, blank, he's silent while they're just pouring their soul out the open wound where their heart should've rested.

After all the screaming/yelling/crying, they throw their things to the floor (maybe some glasses for more angsty stuff, hehe) they storm to their room and lock their door, and Bill's just... motionless. He takes a moment to think over how he's acted and how they've been visibly more angry/depressed over the past couple weeks (especially around him) and he just breaks down.

Cue to him, crying (I don't even know if he can, please forgive me, but I need to make him sob) and he's frantically banging at the door and crying while mumbling something that sounds like apologies(??) and trying to get in.

After a few minutes of their silence from the other side, he just teleports into their room and tries to reconcile with them but after a few nudges and pleads, they stand up and scream at him, tears running down their face as they talk about how badly he's been treating them and so on, (he doesn't fail to notice their shaking hands, the heavy choked breaths when they try to calm themselves to keep talking, their posture and how their muscles ached as they moved) and he just has to sit there and listen while he breaks down at the sight.

(OH- AND ALSO AT THE END THEY GO BACK TO BEING HAPPY AND WORK THINGS OUT, ALBEIT A BIT SLOWER ON READERS SIDE BUT IT ALL WORKS OUT, AND YAY!! HAPPY TIMES AT THE ENDD :3)

I'm so sorry if this is a huge burden or anything but I'm obsessed with how you write and I'm a big fan,, keep doing what you do!! I will be here to read your works, :D HAVE A LOVELY DAYYYYYY

Breaking Point

(Bill Cipher x GN!Reader)

Thank you so much for the kind words!! (o_ _)ﾉ彡☆ I might've teared up a little while writing this hehe

This fic is a little lengthy than the others how I usually write. But I want ya'll to feel the raw emotion of pure anger and sadness from the reader, and the panic from Bill. ヾ( ￣O￣)ツ

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Drama

Warning: Emotional Outbursts, Depiction of Verbal Conflict, Reader experiencing high levels of frustration and stress, Brief mention of destruction (fire, water disappearing, bugs appearing), Bill Cipher struggling with remorse and regret, Themes of toxic behavior in a relationship.

Summary: After reaching your limit with Bill Cipher's chaotic behavior, you snap and confront him, leaving Bill stunned and remorseful. Now, both of you must navigate through an emotional journey of healing and reconciliation.

The door creaked as you stepped into the house, the familiar weight of exhaustion pressing against your bones. Work had drained you, life had drained you, and now all you wanted was to come home to some peace. But of course, there was no peace where Bill Cipher was concerned.

Your nostrils flared as the scent of smoke hit you before anything else. The kitchen table was scorched, a blackened mess, and small embers still smoldered in the corners. Water pooled around your feet from where the sink should’ve been, now bone-dry despite the mess. Your gaze darted across the room, scanning for more disasters, and—unsurprisingly—you spotted bugs skittering across the walls and floors. Spiders, centipedes, beetles. All manner of crawling things making themselves at home in what was once your sanctuary.

And then there he was.

Bill Cipher. Floating lazily above the chaos with a smug grin plastered across his face, looking so utterly proud of his handiwork. His golden glow practically mocked you, making everything feel more twisted than it already was. You wanted to cry, scream—something—but the exhaustion in your limbs wouldn’t even let you feel anything. Not yet.

“Heya, kiddo! You’re back earlier than I thought! Guess you’re lucky—you get to witness all the ‘improvements’ I made to the place in real-time!” His voice was sing-songy, obnoxious, as if setting your house on fire and filling it with bugs was some sort of quirky joke.

You dropped your bag to the floor with a heavy thud. “Improvements?” you asked, your voice hollow. “You set the kitchen on fire.”

He spun in a lazy circle. “Oh, that? Pfft, it’ll go out eventually! You know, fire’s just nature’s way of cleaning up! No big deal, kid. You humans get so worked up about the little things.”

“Little things?” Your voice trembled as you repeated his words. “My house is a wreck, Bill.”

His eye rolled dramatically. “It’s just a house. You live here, what? 80, maybe 90 years? Tops? Come on, I’ve seen the multiverse—this is nothing! A little fire, a little infestation… it’s all temporary!” He waved his hand, making a centipede crawl up the wall behind him like it was nothing. Like you should just accept this madness.

Something inside you snapped.

Maybe it was the months of putting up with his antics, the countless moments of chaos that you tried to brush aside because, well, it was Bill. Maybe it was the sleepless nights, the days where he would whisk you into the Mindscape without warning, messing with your head until you couldn’t tell if you were dreaming or awake. Or maybe it was just this day—this awful, grueling day, where you came home hoping for some semblance of normalcy only to find more destruction.

Whatever it was, you’d hit your breaking point.

“No,” you said, your voice starting soft but trembling with barely-contained fury. “It’s not nothing, Bill. It’s not just a little fire, or a few bugs, or some weird object you brought into my life to mess with me.”

Bill raised an eyebrow. “Uh, okay? You’re acting like this is a big deal—”

“Because it is a big deal!” The words exploded from you, your voice rising into a full-on scream. “I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE!”

Your voice echoed off the walls, loud enough to make Bill pause in mid-air. His expression shifted, his eye narrowing in what looked like confusion. “Whoa, calm down there, kid. No need to get all dramatic—”

“Dramatic?” You felt the surge of frustration and exhaustion hit you all at once. “You think I’m being dramatic? You set the kitchen on fire, Bill! You fill the house with bugs, you mess with my things, you bring chaos into every single moment of my life like it’s a joke, and you think I’m being dramatic?!”

He floated closer, but you shoved past him, your heart hammering in your chest. “I’m tired, Bill! I am so tired of you making my life hell! You don’t care about me—you never have! You only care about yourself, about causing chaos, about proving how powerful you are while you tear my life apart!”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Bill said, his voice wavering slightly. But you weren’t stopping. Not now. Not when everything you’d held back for weeks, months, was finally coming out.

“You’re not fair!” you yelled, your voice cracking. “I’m so sick of cleaning up after you, of pretending that it’s okay for you to ruin everything I care about! You think it’s funny to mess with me, to make my life miserable? It’s not! It’s—”

Your voice caught in your throat as the sobs you’d been holding in for too long finally broke free. “It’s not fair, Bill. It’s just… not fair.”

For the first time since you’d known him, Bill Cipher was silent.

He just hovered there, his triangular form still, his single eye wide and blinking rapidly as if he couldn’t quite process what was happening. He’d seen you angry before, annoyed even—but this? This was different. This was raw. You were breaking down right in front of him, and he didn’t know what to do.

You wiped at your eyes, your breath coming in ragged, shaky bursts as the last of your strength crumbled beneath the weight of everything. You looked at him, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Then, with a trembling hand, you threw your things to the floor—your bag, your keys, the glasses you’d been holding. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room, but you didn’t even care. You turned away from him, storming to your bedroom and slamming the door shut behind you. The lock clicked into place, sealing you in the only place left where you could hide from him.

For a moment, there was silence.

But then came the knock. Soft at first, barely audible. Then louder. “Hey uh... Y/N?” His voice was shaky, unsure, and for the first time since you’d met him, you could hear something like fear in it. “Come on, open the door…”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t.

“I… I didn’t mean for it to get this bad. I was just… I thought we were having fun? You know, me messing around a little… spicing things up!” His voice wavered again, growing more frantic. “Just… open the door. Please?”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, okay?” His voice cracked. “I didn’t think it was that bad. I didn’t… I didn’t realize…”

Still, you didn’t move. Your body felt heavy, drained. You didn’t have the energy to answer him, not after everything that had just happened. The silence from your side must have been too much for him, because after a few moments, you heard that familiar soft pop and felt the air shift.

Bill teleported into your room, appearing right beside you.

He hovered there for a moment, unsure of himself, his usual arrogance nowhere to be seen. “Y/N…” His voice was softer now, almost tentative. He reached out a hand toward you, but you pulled away, still too raw, too hurt.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you said, your voice low and thick with emotion. “I’m tired, Bill. I’m tired of you, of this, of everything. You don’t care about me. You only care about yourself.”

He flinched, his entire form flickering as if your words had struck him physically. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I do care. I just… I don’t know how to stop. This is who I am.”

You stood up, your body shaking as the anger and frustration surged through you once again. “No, Bill. This is who you choose to be. You choose to hurt me. You choose to make me miserable, and I can’t take it anymore.” Tears welled up in your eyes again, blurring your vision. “I can’t keep being the person who puts up with this.”

His eye widened, and for the first time, you saw genuine fear there. “I can change,” he said quickly, desperately. “I can stop, I swear! No more fires, no more bugs, no more chaos! Just… don’t leave me.”

You turned to face him fully, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Why should I believe you?”

He blinked, his form trembling. “Because…” His voice cracked again, and for a moment, he was silent. Then, he dropped lower, sinking to the floor as if bowing before you. “Because I love you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. The words hung in the air between you, heavy and fragile.

Bill Cipher, the embodiment of chaos, destruction, and madness… was on the floor, broken and pleading.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I thought I was just… being me. But I see it now. I see what I’ve done to you.” His eye glistened with something you’d never seen before—tears. Real, honest tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Your heart clenched at the sight of him—Bill Cipher, the all-powerful, indestructible entity you’d grown so used to, now reduced to this broken, fragile figure. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that he could change, that this was the turning point. But you couldn’t deny the gnawing ache in your chest, the voice in the back of your mind reminding you of all the chaos, all the hurt.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” you said, your voice shaking. “You’ve said things like this before, Bill. You’ve promised to dial it back, to stop messing with me, but you never do. You always go back to your old ways, and I—”

Your voice cracked, the weight of everything too much to bear. “I can’t keep going through this. It hurts too much.”

Bill flinched again, his whole form flickering as if he might disappear at any moment. “I know,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I know I’ve messed up—over and over again. I’ve pushed you too far. I’ve made you cry, made you scream, and I never thought about how it was affecting you.” He paused, his eye locking onto yours, his voice trembling with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N. I thought… I thought we were having fun. But I see now that I was wrong.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion. His words felt sincere, but the pain was still fresh. “You always think it’s fun,” you said quietly. “But it’s not fun for me. I’ve been hurting for so long, Bill. Every day, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells, waiting for the next disaster. I can’t live like that.”

Bill floated closer to you, his glow dimming. “I don’t want you to live like that anymore,” he said softly. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re miserable. I’ll change, Y/N. I’ll stop. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.” His voice cracked again, and he hovered just inches from you, his single eye glistening with tears. “Please, don’t leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You closed your eyes, your heart heavy with conflicting emotions. You wanted to believe him, to hold onto the hope that he could really change. But you were scared. Scared that this was just another empty promise, another cycle of chaos waiting to happen.

“I need time,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I need time to think. To figure out if I can keep doing this.”

Bill’s form flickered again, his eye wide with panic. “Time? But… what if you decide you don’t want me anymore?”

Your chest tightened at the raw fear in his voice. You’d never seen him like this—vulnerable, desperate, clinging to you like you were his only lifeline. “I don’t know, Bill,” you said softly. “I don’t know what I’ll decide. But I can’t just forgive everything right now. I need space.”

Bill stared at you for a long moment, his eye searching yours, before he slowly nodded. “Okay,” he said, his voice small. “Okay. I’ll give you space. Just… please, don’t shut me out completely. Let me prove that I can be better.”

You took a shaky breath and nodded. “I won’t shut you out. But I need you to respect what I’m asking for. No more chaos. No more tricks. No more pushing me to my limit.”

He blinked, his form flickering once more as he processed your words. Then, with a small, sad smile, he nodded. “You’ve got it, kid. No more tricks. No more chaos. I’ll… I’ll be good.” He tried to sound upbeat, but the strain in his voice was evident.

You watched as he floated back a bit, his usual cocky posture gone. He looked small, almost lost, and it tugged at something deep inside you. Despite everything, despite all the pain he’d caused, you couldn’t help but feel for him.

“Bill…” you began, your voice softening. He looked up at you, hope flickering in his eye. “I do love you,” you admitted, your voice wavering. “But this… this isn’t healthy. We both need to work on this. If you really care about me, you’ll prove it. Not with words, but with actions.”

He floated closer again, his eye wide and solemn. “I will, Y/N. I swear. I’ll show you that I’m serious. I won’t mess this up again.”

You nodded, feeling a small weight lift from your chest. “Okay.”

There was a long, heavy silence between the two of you, the air thick with tension and the lingering emotions of the night. But for the first time in a long while, there was also something else—a sliver of hope. It was fragile, but it was there.

Bill hovered in place for a few more moments before he slowly floated toward the door. He paused just before leaving, turning back to you with a soft, almost shy smile. “I’ll let you rest. But… I’ll be around. If you need me.”

You nodded again, and with that, he disappeared with a soft pop, leaving you alone in the quiet of your room.

You exhaled deeply, your body sagging with the weight of the night’s emotions. It wasn’t over—not by a long shot—but there was a chance. A chance that things could get better, that Bill could change. It would take time, and you’d need to see real progress, but for the first time, you felt like he truly understood the gravity of his actions.

It would take work. It would take patience. But maybe, just maybe, things could heal.

The days passed slowly after that. Bill kept his distance, honoring your request for space. You still saw him, floating around the house or popping in to check on you, but he was different now. Calmer. Quieter. He didn’t wreak havoc or bring chaos into your life anymore. Instead, he seemed to go out of his way to make things easier for you.

He fixed the scorched kitchen, repaired the broken table, and even got rid of the bugs without so much as a snarky comment. It was strange at first—seeing him so subdued—but it also gave you hope.

You weren’t ready to forgive him completely, not yet. But you were willing to give him a chance.

One night, as you sat in the living room, you heard the familiar pop of Bill teleporting in. You looked up to see him hovering nearby, holding something in his hands—or rather, what looked like a bouquet of floating, glowing flowers. They shimmered in the dim light, casting soft shadows on the walls.

“I, uh, brought these for you,” he said awkwardly, floating closer. “I know they’re not your typical flowers, but I thought… you might like them.”

You stared at the glowing bouquet for a moment before a small smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Bill,” you said softly, accepting the flowers.

He smiled back, that familiar spark of mischief in his eye, but this time it wasn’t overwhelming. It wasn’t destructive. It was… soft.

And as you looked at him, at the effort he was putting in, you felt the tiniest flicker of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, things would work out.

I love me some vulnerable Bill hehe (￣ε￣＠) Anyways! Hope you guys enjoyed it! ^^