#I’m over sharing aren’t I? i seem to do that at times
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pwblant · 2 days ago
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SUNDAE STOP — l.ant
┊a/n : hey riizeblr, here’s an approx. 670 word fic that i wrote at 2am because i couldn’t stop thinking about the anton sundae photo up there 👆 he looks so bf 😕 (p.s., anton and yn keep slipping, REALLY REALLY bad actors 🫡) reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated <3 enjoy!!!
┊warnings : maybee just the couple moments but other than that there’s nothing that you should be afraid of pookie 🫰🫰
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it’s a quiet saturday afternoon just a few days ‘till Christmas, you and anton are strolling leisurely through the mall with some of your old friends from your hometown. you’ve all known each other for years, but since you and anton both moved away to study at a different school, it’s been a while since you all last got together. as expected, the catch-up session was in full swing. everyone was sharing updates on their lives—what they’ve been up to, who’s in a relationship, and what new hobbies they’ve picked up—and you and anton were no exception. it was fun being with your closest friends after the longest time; there’s laughter, nostalgia, and pure happiness. 
but amidst all the fun, there is one thing that neither you nor anton have mentioned yet: that the two of you have been dating for the past 6 months. the idea of being teased by your friends was too much to handle, so you both decided to keep it a secret for now and instead tell them when the time is right.
“guys, let’s go to that sundae shop over there!” you beamed excitedly.
“hey now, aren’t you full? we just ate, bab—” anton began, but you cut him off as he unconsciously slipped his arm around your shoulders, earning collective side-eyes from your friends.
“i—um.. guys, do you wanna go there?” you stammered, letting out an awkward laugh, anton’s arm instinctively finding its way to the back of his neck as he realized how suspicious you both looked.
“sure! ice cream sounds so good right now.” your friend replied.
you thank the heavens above because it seemed your friends brushed off what had just happened. with an exaggerated sigh of relief, you all entered the sundae shop.
the others ordered quickly, and it was just the two of you left who haven’t chosen what to order. standing in front of the counter, you scanned the menu, eyes lighting up at the words “sundae skyscraper.” you quickly glanced up at anton, who was standing next to you, and reported what you’d just found. 
“can we share this? pleaaasee i really want it.” you happily ask, batting your eyelashes at him in a playful manner. “it’ll make me the happiest girl in the world.” 
a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, despite his best effort to suppress it. “i’m not falling for your persuading techniques,” he says, though he was already reaching into his wallet to pay.
“you’re the best!” you exclaimed, letting out a soft, triumphant squeal as you moved to hug him. you almost leaned in for a kiss right then and there but quickly remembered that you were trying to keep your relationship a secret. you awkwardly pulled back and glanced at the group, only to find them already staring at you both, smirking knowingly.
“hey anton lee, you’re on a roll! buy a sundae for me next?”one of your friends shouted from the table, and the others laughed, chiming in.
anton’s smile falters, “hell no, i'm not thaat generous, man! we’re sharing this!” playfully rolling his eyes at them.
after paying, you tried to walk back to the group’s table as casually as possible, but their knowing grins made it clear to you that there was no point in trying anymore.
“fine, we’re dating” you sighed as you plopped down next to anton, announcing it like the world’s greatest myster had just been solved. 
“yea…. we figured so.” the friend sat next to you said as she let out a little chuckle.
you talk about your relationship—all about how you met, how he confessed, and how long you’ve been together, expecting at least some teasing or dramatic reactions from your friends. instead, they just nodded, as if it was no big deal—like they'd known all along. there wasn’t a single eyebrow raised, no teasing remarks, just a quiet acceptance. if you’d known it would be this easy and stress-free, you would’ve outed your relationship the first chance you got.
you let out a big sigh, “alright, now that that’s out of the way, i'm going to devour this sundae.”
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butteronabun · 3 days ago
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// very, very indulgent !! superhero au below!! ✨
hi so i just watched the new superman trailer and i’m gonna indulge over a superman diluc au now ( BECAUSE I A M HOOKED AND SEATED FOR 2025 )
LIKE i freaking know diluc is so batman coded ?? but imagine a universe where crepus didn’t die and he and his wife raised this clumsy, awkward and innocent diluc ragnvindr with glasses in the countryside ??? and this boy grew up to become a sweet, and chivalrous gentle giant who’s always cautious and CAREFUL over his super abilities because he knows how powerful he is 😍
then, when he gets into the daily planet to work as a journalist ( or in this case, let’s make it the STEAMBIRD LOL ), diluc develops romantic feelings and has the biggest crush on the bold and hardworking adrenaline junkie reporter fmc who can only reach his chest — hhhhh
just frothing at the mouf over the idea of the dedicated fmc talking in front of the lovesick diluc. like yes. talk abt his alter ego more and huh. you seem to really like him. he’s not jealous is he. right? right????
PLUS PLUS PLUS aughhh so weak for superman! diluc carrying the fmc in his arms when he goes out to save her OR post-identity reveal when he finally kisses her on the lips while flying in the air ! 🫶🏻
how hot the range is. diluc’s hair is down btw when he’s just diluc ragnvindr and when he’s superman it’s tied into a ponytail. oh i’m just indulging actually i’m seriously just indulging I’m trying to make this work just so i can ramble abt a superman au GKDHDKDJ
bonus: post-identity reveal where fmc is just flirty and also. shameless because she’s just. touching him everywhere ( his biceps, his chest, his abs ) because she can’t believe how lucky she is, and superman diluc is just. embarrassed LOL
my next idea is a spider-verse au or a spider-man au. roles are reversed, so i’m thinking of a fmc who gets bitten by a radioactive spider, and becomes spider-man at night!
i’m not sure if they will be in high school or college, but the the fmc and diluc know each other from school. they aren’t as close but they do acknowledge that they have different worlds. fmc has a roommate she trusts, while diluc is the handsome and mysterious kid that everyone likes. ig they interacted once and i’m digging into the idea of them being socially awkward ??
like maybe the fmc tries to strike up a conversation with him but diluc’s replies are short and curt because he’s not sure of what to say. maybe he was thinking a lot of things during that time LMAO
anyway, spider-man fmc is chill. she actually likes being spider-man and enjoys her powers! she explores the city and finds it nice that she gains a new purpose in life: saving mondstadt city! she even has her own customized spider-man outfit <3
soooo. the plot then gets exciting when spider-man fmc finally encounters the “darknight hero” she’s been hearing from forums ( BECAUSE IMAGINE IF FMC THINKS THAT SHE HAS A RIVAL / A COMPETITION WHEN IT COMES TO SAVING !!! ) while fighting some crime in the outskirts of the city 🤭
and she likes to think that she has the upper hand over powers when she gets to know that darknight hero is just. well. a rich guy with no powers ( but also and APPARENTLY, physically strong ?? ) oh fmc thinks this is unfair
these two heroes become a lil hostile at each other at first because, well, strangers ( comically, imagine spider-man fmc telling the darknight hero that she can rescue that kitten, but said darknight hero beats her to it first and they argue like little children / IMAGE: it’s just fmc whining and the darknight hero listening amusingly — which he will not admit btw — ), until they team up sometime in the future when they understand that they share the same goal: getting rid of the evil that plagues their city!
i think it’s just sweet that they’re comfortable in their alter egos 🫶🏻
also what if someone gets hurt… Gnhdjhdk maybe spider-man fmc perhaps??? and she’s just… being cradled in his arms???? and the darknight hero is just so, so worried and also a little upset because why did you do that. he can protect himself. so why did you shield yourself for me.
and fmc says the classic thing - “it’s because i care for you, you dummy,” and also because she’s a damn superhero!!!! and you know where it’ll lead there - the beginning of their stupid and slow burn romance
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elieslittlecreations · 2 years ago
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Anyone dislike shading?
😅 starting off with the basics… a ball. I had to share my messy carpet. It’s 17 years old, gone through renters, dogs, cats and it is undergoing the abuse of toddlers. (Anyone else with cats notice how instead of puking on the hard floor they need to puke on the carpet? Legit, that’s a thing. Sometimes the hard floor is right beside them and they just. Blep… carpet cleaner is a God send) This week, starting on Friday we are putting in new flooring, vinyl flooring can take the abuse, I know it. But not too much abuse because we are hoping to sell…
I got news earlier the week before last week that I have chronic pain… which at first I was relieved because, we made sure to cross off cancer off the list of possibilities of what may be wrong with me, I have been struggling tbh. I’ve prayed for healing, for even the strength to endure, to just get through this. I think overtime my pain has been gnawing at me for over a year and I’ve been teetering, barely hanging on. Trying everything and anything to just feel okay. It wasn’t till I reached out to friends that I learned that asking for prayer is also letting go of fear.. and maybe even pride. I felt bewildered… as the day I asked for prayer I was basically symptom free and I had a noticeably different day… I had energy, I had bounce in my step and was able to get projects done. Struggling with depression and fatigue to feeling almost as light as a feather…
I wondered, did I not have enough faith? I’ve experienced healing, I’ve had answered prayers… Does God not hear me now? Did I do something wrong? And, so I pondered and asked my friend.
I always felt like He at times is always there for others, but when it came to being there for me, He isn’t, why would He want to? When it comes to hearing my prayers, He will get to it when He gets to it. I know I deserve nothing, I can’t say that I have been coming boldly to the throne, especially as of late. That stems from my past, from abuse, from trauma, not God.
What my friend told me is (and I’m paraphrasing) that as believers, we need community. We need to be vulnerable and we need to be needy at times, to be humble. We aren’t meant to follow Christ alone. That’s why it’s important to be in a community of other like minded believers.
Church isn’t a building. Believers are the church, we are His Church.
Asking for help, asking for someone to notice me is extremely hard at times, as it is for many others, my friend included.
We are all tested with fire, and we shall come fourth like gold.
That is all.
Elie
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rinhaler · 1 year ago
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𝐀𝐌 𝐈 (𝟐𝟓𝐅) 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 (𝟐𝟖𝐌)
i know it sounds bad but we got high and he's hot!!
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ plug!ryomen sukuna x f!reader
Genre: porn with a plot Notes: thank u 2 @chososdoll for beta reading for me!! this is part of @ohkento's reddit-inspired collab! (ps this isnt a true form fic i just think he looks SEXY IN THAT PIC HNNNNGN) Warnings: 18+, dubcon, mean dom!sukuna, sub!reader, cheating, hate sex ♡, drug taking, weed smoking, blowbacks/shotgunning, heavy degradation, slight praise, fingering ♡, vaginal sex, sixty-nineing ♡, face sitting, squirting ♡, pussy spanking, noncon filming, coercion, manipulation, daddy!kink, creampie, cervix fucking. Words: 10.6k
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“I’ve heard about you.” Yuuji starts, turning his head from looking up at the stars to facing you. Your mind feels cloudy, but you return his stare. He thinks your pearly smile belongs in the sky; a permanent constellation to remind him of this moment. “How come this is my first time meeting you?”
You sigh, reaching over as he hands a lit spliff to you. The bonfire rages in front of you both, the smoke burning your eyes until they fill with water.
At least you have the perfect cover if you burst into tears.
“Things got… hard.” you tell him, not really wanting to elaborate. But golden-brown puppy dog eyes will you to continue. It’s stupid, really, how cliché people become when they smoke. You’re no exception. The intoxication and the setting make you feel as though you’re in an indie movie, longing to share your scars and become closer to the one attractive boy giving you his attention. “My ex, he cheated on me. I was with him for two years so it hurt.” you confess, taking a thick drag before passing it back to him, he tuts as he takes it from you.
“I’m really sorry,” he expresses, holding eye contact while he smokes. The feeling rushes straight to his head and through his blood. He laughs a little as he gets comfortable in his seat. “Sorry… I’m not laughing at you.” he clarifies, laughing again.
You start to laugh too, leaning over to grab the spliff from his hand before he sets the back garden on fire with it. Both of your attention is pulled from each other as you hear a scream from inside. The party is still going on indoors, and the scream soon turns into a girly laugh.
No doubt one of your friends flirting with one of the other guys.
“It’s okay.” you assure him, getting just as comfortable in your own seat as you smoke the remainder of the joint. You wrap yourself in the blanket you brought outside and turn your body slightly to face him. “It was with my best friend, too.” you continue, your deepest wound not seeming so scarring as you allow the high to expose your secrets on your behalf.
“Shit.” he shakes his head.
“I’ve been doing therapy and stuff so I’m better. I just wasn’t in the mood to see people…” you explain, jolting upright a little as you realise you’re oversharing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so deep and make you feel uncomfortable.” you tell him.
“I’m fine, I’m the one who asked.” he chuckles, getting comfier under his own blanket as he turns to look at you.
His warm eyes make you feel relaxed, safe. And you hate it. You hate how much of a cliché you really are becoming and you hate that you can’t help it. This moment feels so much bigger than anything, but deep down, you’re paranoid, because you’re sure it’s the drugs talking.
You’ve heard about Yuuji, too.
You’ve heard about how sweet he is and how he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. He has a sports scholarship of some kind, and after a quick stalk of his socials you noted how reflected this is in the form of his chiseled body. Could he really be so nice? He seems, perfect.
And apparently he, gives the best head.
“I have a secret.” he tells you, quietly. His voice almost drowned out by the crackling bonfire beside you. You aren’t sure what makes you heat up so quickly. The implication of his words or the way he said them. A lustful look in his eyes as the fire dances wildly beside you both.
“Yeah?” you tell him, cheeks fill with warmth as you try to ignore how fucking hot it is in pursuit of looking cool. And that makes you giggle, for some reason. Yuuji isn’t the one making you flush with heat, it’s the fire, idiot. “T-Tell me.” you encourage him, throwing off your blanket and fanning yourself dramatically.
So much for looking cool.
He grins, almost coyly, as he leans across the arm of his chair. And for some reason, you instinctively mirror him. Is it so secret that you need to be close? He might whisper it to you.
He tilts his head, smirking. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips a few times. Enough times that you make a note of it. And your heart is fucking racing with each flicker of his gaze. You think you know what’s coming. But you stay still, watching him, waiting for him to make the first move.
“… I really wanna kiss you.” he admits. And if you weren’t hot before, you certainly are now. You try, and likely fail, to keep it cool. A wide grin spreads across your face and you burst into giggles. But your eyes meet his again, and you see a smile just as wide as yours on his face as he observes you.
“Yeah?” you ask, dumbly.
“Yeah.” he nods.
You gulp, shallowly, leaning in closer to him and letting your eyes fall closed. He smirks, again, leaning in until your lips meet. It’s sweet and passionate, until he pulls away. It surprises you a little. Worries you, even. Are you a bad kisser? Maybe you are when you’re high. But worry turns to astonishment as he pulls your chair closer to until the arms of both of your seats touch. He smirks, again, wrapping his arm around your neck as he leans in to kiss you.
And now, you really do hate yourself.
You moan into it.
You aren’t even sure where it came from. Was that really you? He grins, nonetheless, a feeling of pride swelling in his chest as his tongue meets yours in a more than welcome manner. You pull away, a string of spit connecting you both. A kiss infused daze covers your features as you look at him under heavy eyelids, and you pant, deeply.
“I have another secret.” he whispers, stealing another sweet kiss from your raw lips. Gloss smeared over your lip line and a dewiness transferred to his.
“Is it as good as the first?” you tease, giggling as his hand cups your face. You mewl, melting into his touch as his thumb strokes your cheek delicately. Your eyes widen. A look of curiosity replaces the majority of the lust, though you both know it’s still lurking.
“Well,” he starts, his eyes begin to wander. You observe him as his vision roams from the sky to the flames beside you. He takes his time, the anticipation of his words runs rampant through your bloodstream. Until, finally, he blesses you with his gaze once more. “I want to stay with you until the sun comes up. I want you to sit on my lap, with my cock inside you, under our blankets. All night.”
You’d hoped once he told you that your anxiety would have diminished. Though you’re sure with the way his eyes are fixated on your lips, your heart is surely surveying an escape route from your slack-jawed mouth as it pumps hard and violently through you. He doesn’t seem worried that you haven’t said a word, and his gaze doesn’t falter.
“Okay.” you nod.
It excites you. You haven’t been with anyone since your ex. And it might be a bad idea, but it doesn’t stop you. It’s not like you’re rushing into being with someone. It’s been months since things ended with your cheating ex-boyfriend. You stand up, bringing your blanket as you stand over Yuuji, and he holds your hips gently.
He feels under your skirt, smiling when he feels how soaked your panties are but he doesn’t comment. He moves them into the crease of your thigh and encourages you to straddle him.
You do.
Hovering slightly as he pulls down his joggers and his semi springs free. It’s big and pretty, like him. You kiss him as he jerks himself until he’s aching. He’s desperate to bury it inside of your gummy walls, his cock catches against your eager hole with every purposeful stroke.
He throws his head back as you sink down on him, and your hips stutter slightly from the stretch. You’re trying to focus on concealing your bodies with the fuzzy blanket wrapped around you, but your lips fly to his in a bid to silence yourself as he sheaths himself fully.
“Fuck, you’re tight… so wet, too.” he mumbles, hips rolling ever so slightly as he enjoys the feeling of being inside of you raw.
You jolt, panicked, as you hear a knock from the kitchen window. Both of your attention is stolen to see the origin, and you spot a group of partygoers hollering from inside. Two of his friends and one of yours, they all cheer and whoop as they can only assume what’s going on under the blanket.
Yuuji smiles, shaking his head before turning back to capture your lips in another soft kiss. You’re too distracted to notice him flip them off until they disappear.
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“Do I remember the night the most perfect woman in the world let me hit her raw after a few minutes of talking under the stars? Yes, baby, I remember the best night of my life, why?” Yuuji asks after you recall that first night you met. “Very cool of you, by the way. I didn’t think you were gonna say yes.”
You giggle, punching his arm softly as you curl into his side in bed. And you sigh, dreamily, thinking about it again. It’s been over a year since that night and you feel just as hazy around him as you did then. You were worried about him thinking of you as a one night stand. Worried that you’d just given in to this stranger for no real reason only to get your feelings hurt again.
But as the sun began to rise and wake you both up in that horrendously uncomfortable chair, he kissed your forehead and held you tightly against his chest. He stroked your hair until you managed to blink the blurriness from your eyes and see his in a new light. The crackle of the orange and white flames had gone from them. Instead, they were honeyed and soft. The kindest eyes you’d ever seen.
“The McDonald’s breakfast in the carpark was better than the sex in the garden, by the way.” you tease him, earning a tickle attack into your sides.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why you were begging me to fuck you in the backseat afterwards.” he laughs, stopping his assault as you begin to scream. You cuddle into him again, his fingers tracing over the flesh of your upper arm. “It was good though, really good. Should we order hash browns?”
“Yes.” you nod, excitedly.
He sits up and reaches over to his bedside cabinet to grab his phone. He sighs as he checks his notifications. You sigh, too, watching him as he gets out of your warm bed in search of his clothes.
So much for hash browns.
“Yuuji…” you start.
“Don’t start, please, I don’t wanna leave in a bad mood.” he tells you. He smirks when he realises you’re checking out his abs, only focusing on him again as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. “I don’t want to rush moving in just because you feel sorry for me.”
“I’m not rushing you, and I don’t feel sorry for you!” you tell him, shuffling onto your knees and crawling across the bed until you’re kneeling beside the edge of the mattress. “I hate your brother. He’s a creep and he treats you like shit. I have plenty of room here… you can move in here and have your own space and—”
“I know he’s a dick.” he agrees, pulling on his socks and slipping his feet into his sneakers. “But he’s my only family. I’m not just gonna ditch him. Why don’t you move in with me?” he wonders.
“Um… I live in a townhouse instead of an apartment and it’s better, it’s in a better neighbourhood and your brother isn’t here.” you smile, smugly, and it earns a chuckle from him.
“Okay, you’re right about that. Speaking of which though I can’t stay tonight but you can come over if you want. I’ll order those hash browns for you tomorrow when I’m on my to the gym. I’m booked with PT sessions my entire shift.”
“I’m not waking up at 6am to eat hash browns alone, Yuuji.” you roll your eyes.
“You can text me when you wake up and I’ll order them for you. Pleeeeease?” he flutters his eyelashes dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Good girl.”
“I didn’t say yes?” you respond, flabbergasted. “Is Sukuna gonna be there?”
“Well, yeah. He lives there.” Yuuji tells you, earning an eye roll from you. He is in complete agreement on how much his older brother sucks. He understands why you hate him. He’s irritating, he’s crass and seems to have no concept of personal space or privacy. Yuuji doesn’t care for his brother in the least, and he has no doubt the feeling is mutual. There is love there, of course, but only out of necessity. “You don’t seem to mind him when the family discount applies for weed, though. Interesting.” he says with faux suspicion.
“Okay, that is literally the only thing he’s good for.” you remind him. He laughs, agreeing.
He kisses your lips chastely, hurrying to grab his backpack to hurry home to his expectant brother. The only two reasons he ever leaves you in haste are for work, or for Sukuna. Today was meant to be a day you could spend together since you both have the day off.
But of course, Sukuna ruins everything.
YUUJI: FORGOT TO ASK YUUJI: ARE WE SMOKING TONIGHT? YOU: DUH! YUUJI: BETTER BE NICE TO SUKUNA FOR THAT FAMILY DISCOUNT THEN 😉
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You stand outside of your boyfriends apartment complex, shivering, waiting for somebody to answer the door. He ordered a taxi for you since he knows you always worry about your car getting broken into when you visit, his own car suffering numerous break-ins in the span of your relationship.
And really, you don’t want somebody to answer the door. You want it to be Yuuji, specifically, the thought of Sukuna answering the door and tormenting you until you get to the safety of Yuuji’s room is entirely too much to handle. Your nerves are already shredded by being here, the thought of having a battle of words with Sukuna will surely tip you over the edge.
“Oh, hey, I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly.” you hear a voice from behind you. You turn around to see Yuuji. Fuck. You see the hallway light flicker on from under the crack of the front door to his apartment and you realise too late that a demon has been summoned. “I went and got cookie ingredients, I thought we could bake some before we smoke later.”
“Sounds fun.” you smile, his sweet idea assuages the tension you feel, albeit briefly, before his elder brother swings open the front door. Yuuji pulls his lips into a thin line when you can barely contain the scoff that scratches through your throat. Sukuna rolls his eyes, moving aside to let you both in. He peaks inside the bag Yuuji is holding before his little brother smacks his hand away. “Do not touch or I will kill you.” Yuuji warns him, carrying the ingredients to the kitchen before putting them away.
You decide to help, hoping it will go quicker if you pitch in and you can escape his brother’s intimidating stare faster. Sukuna approaches, leaning over a counter as he watches you both.
“Nice of you to grace us with your presence, princess. It’s been a while.” Sukuna taunts, but you ignore him. He clacks his fingernails against the countertop, and the sound is jarring. He smirks when you shoot him a pointedly aggravated stare, giving him reason to do it more. “What do we owe the pleasure?”
You sigh, nostrils flaring as you put two bars of chocolate in the fridge.
“We’re just hanging out, gonna bake these cookies and smoke.” Yuuji answers for you. So you smile, falsely, and rest your back against the wall once you’re done. “Oh, speaking of which… family discount?”
“I’m busy now.” Sukuna looks at you and then back at his brother. “Ask me later.” he expresses, red eyes fixed on you for a moment before he turns to leave.
It’s like you can finally breathe again when you hear him go to his room and close the door. You kick yourself away from the wall and into Yuuji’s open arms. He smooths his heavy hand over your hair, hoping you’ll relax a little. He spends some time figuring out what you can do to pass some time, knowing you’ll need a distraction.
“Let’s just bake the cookies.” you speak, words muffled as you talk into his shirt. You pull away as he looks down at you so that you can speak to him clearly. “I just wanna stay in your room all night…”
“Sure, baby, whatever you want.” he nods. “Okay, lets get all of the ingredients out again.”
He takes his time trying to remember where everything is. You, on the other hand, are rushing to gather them all. Sukuna has a way of making your anxiety spike. He’s too… commandeering. He has a way of forcing everyone’s attention to remain solely on him whether you try to ignore him or not.
You’re intimidated by him, he’s more muscular than your boyfriend and he’s a drug dealer for fuck sake.
It brings shame to you when Yuuji has to snap his fingers to get you out of your trance as you think about his brother. You start cutting up the chocolate bars while he puts ingredients in the stand mixer.
And your mind wanders, again. It’s not like you’re scared of Sukuna. Well, you are, terrified would be more apt. But you know he wouldn’t do anything to you. He’d risk losing Yuuji. And as much as they don’t really get along, they’re extremely co-dependent. Especially Sukuna. He likes the presence of his little sibling and has a slight superiority complex due to being older.
The reality is, you think Sukuna would be lost without Yuuji. Lonely, even. And having Yuuji’s steady income is a nice sense of security for him. He makes plenty of money being a dealer, of course, but he knows it’s a fools game. It’s not reliable and it’s risky.
You put the chocolate chunks into the mixer and watch him as he masterfully fills the ingredients into the bowl. Your thoughts calm for a moment as you can do nought but watch the whisk whir.
“You know I wanna move in with you eventually, right?” Yuuji tells you, and it fully breaks you from your train of thought. You look at him, staying silent so that he can feel free to continue speaking. He leans against the counter as the ingredients continue to mix. “I wanna live with you… marry you… all that.”
His talk of marriage makes your cheeks fill with heat, though you’ve gotten better at playing things cool since your first encounter. You just smile, and nod, as you drink in the delicious information.
“I’m just worried about him.” he tilts his head, indicating he is referring to his elder brother. You nod in understanding, though you don’t have much sympathy for your future brother-in-law. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. “We aren’t like you, we don’t have a big family. It’s just us.”
“Well my family isn’t that—” you stop yourself, looking into Yuuji’s disappointed eyes. It’s foolish to pretend you aren’t blessed with an adoring family. You’re your parents only child, though. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have a sibling. And, of course, you’re spoilt rotten. The reality is that if you didn’t come from privilege, you and Yuuji could have been neighbours. But your parents weren’t about to let you live in a dangerous neighbourhood when they can easily afford to subsidise you. “It must be tough, baby. I know you feel guilty for wanting to leave him.” you rub your hand up and down his arm as a show of comfort.
“Yeah…”
“But…” you start, his eyes locking with yours again. “He’s a grown man, Yuuji. You’ve lived the same life and look at you now… You’re nothing like him.”
You’re right. He knows you are, that’s why you’re standing in silence until the timer goes off and he checks the ingredient bowl. It’s sticky. He scoops a little on his finger and dots it on your nose. The kitchen fills with laughter as you try to retaliate. He’s too fast for you, though.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” he tells you as the situation calms. He licks the chocolatey dough from your nose and presses a gentle kiss onto the tip. And dammit you can’t help but smile.
You begin rolling the dough into balls on a tray. The silence has dissipated, but your thoughts still run rampant. Should Sukuna really be Yuuji’s responsibility? No, of course not. But Yuuji won’t see it that way. He’s sensitive and caring. God, he cares so much.
It makes you dizzy as you watch him smile and walk with the cookies to the oven. They smell so great already, you could have eaten them raw. But they’ll be even better when they’re baked to perfection.
You’ve made these cookies so many times now. The pair of you have process committed to memory. They’re so good. Especially with a tall glass of milk. You always tease Yuuji when you do this since he’s always left with a milk moustache after devouring his plate of cookies.
The sound of the timer rings through the kitchen again. You clap excitedly as Yuuji covers his hands with some oven mitts. The chocolatey smell hits you both like a train, the pair of you moaning involuntarily as you inhale it. He brings them over to the countertop, setting them down to cool.
Sukuna smells it, too. He loves it when you bake cookies because he knows neither of you will deny him one. He’s been smoking and playing video games since he retreated to his room. He’s thoroughly stoned and would very much enjoy a sweet treat right about now. He pauses his game, and the sound of his door opening and closing brings back all of the tension to your body.
“Here.” Sukuna speaks as he enters the kitchen. He tosses a baggie onto the counter and looks at his brother expectantly. Yuuji nods, reaching into his pocket for his wallet so he can pay him. Sukuna’s eyes are fixed on you in the meantime. And as you go to grab the weed, he places his hand over it and pulls it back towards himself.
“Thanks, man.” Yuuji smiles, handing the cash to his brother who pockets it without even checking it’s right. Though Sukuna’s stare doesn’t waver, you find yourself looking down at his hand covering the weed and then turning away completely. He internally beams with pride at that, thrilled to know it’s still so easy to intimidate you. But on the outside it’s simply portrayed as a slight curve of the corner of his mouth. “Is something wrong?” Yuuji wonders.
“Yeah, actually,” Sukuna speaks, finding your eyes again before he looks into Yuuji’s. “I want a cookie, call it family tax.”
“Take two.” you tell him, sternly, a new ferocity in your eyes he hasn’t seen before. You walk over to them and place two cookies on a little plate for him. You go to hand it to him, but as he reaches out to grab them you place them down on the counter. “Let them cool.” you smile, sarcastically.
“Aren’t you sweet.” Sukuna snarls, teeth bared as he slides the plate towards himself. “Sweet enough for your turn. Pay up, you know what I want.” he chuckles. He turns his head and taps his finger against his cheek.
“C’mon, dude…” Yuuji tries to interject. You know Yuuji is furious, deep down. But he won’t call him out on it. Last time he did he wouldn’t give either of you any weed for two weeks. It wouldn’t be a problem if you knew anyone else you could buy from. And the shit Sukuna gets is good. Yuuji has given up on trying to be a dominating presence when it comes to living with his brother. Sukuna is always one step ahead and Yuuji can’t quite keep up.
You go to him, reluctantly, and plant a soft kiss to his cheek. It makes your skin crawl. He makes your skin crawl. And despite your sense of urgency to flee the scene, you can’t. His hand grabs your wrist, and Yuuji is ready to spring to action. Sukuna’s face is unbearably close to yours. His red eyes piercing your own as he does all he can to make you feel small and pathetic.
“That’s a good girl.” he sneers, placing the baggie on the top of your hand after releasing your wrist. He chuckles, darkly, as he walks away with his plate of cookies, taking a bite out of one before he disappears. He kicks his bedroom door shut behind himself, the sound of laughter and guns shooting loudly from his TV are the only thing either of you can hear.
“I’ll bring the cookies and clean up.” Yuuji sighs as he ventures to the sink. “Go and get comfy and pick a movie.”
You don’t say anything, leaving your boyfriend to tidy up in silence. You’re seething with rage. This isn’t right. He does this every single time you’re here and you buy a deal from him. And Yuuji just lets him. You know you neither of you have much choice if you want the access and ability to smoke. But it’s getting to you, badly.
Around fifteen minutes pass after you left the kitchen. You’ve since gotten into your sweatpants and comfortable vest. Shorts would have been preferable, since there’s still an uncomfortable sizzle to the November air, but you’ve learnt your lesson about what you wear when you visit the Itadori household. You’ve had Sukuna leer at your thighs more times than you can count. And it’s never subtle, his eyes lingering for a moment too long to have it potentially be an accident. It’s always so lecherous and purposeful.
You decide to watch Clueless, again. You’re sure Yuuji will be defeated when he sees your choice, he’s lost count of how many times you’ve watched it recently. It’s been a comfort movie to you, for some reason, since Halloween.
“Hey.” Yuuji smiles as he enters the room, somehow managing to carry two glasses of milk and two plates of cookies. “What are we watching?” he asks, looking at the TV. You rush to grab a plate and a glass from his hands to ease his load, putting them on your bedside cabinet as he does the same with his own.
“Clueless.” you smile, happily. “Her step-brother has been hitting really different for me, lately.”
He closes his eyes and stifles a sigh. You can see a laugh desperate to break free as his mouth shakes through a smile. But to his credit, he manages to compose himself, eyes opening again once the reality has set in. Clueless. Again!
“Sounds great baby.”
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It’s been a week since you last got to spent time with Yuuji. Your work schedules have been clashing, it feels like a lifetime since you got to spend any time together.
You enjoyed your hash browns in bed after he ordered them for you when you stayed over at his place. Though he ended up ordering Sukuna breakfast, too, leading to uncomfortable extended time with him that you prefer to avoid at all costs. He tried to make conversation with you, he often does, but you took it upon yourself to go back to bed with your hash browns. You tried to enjoy them. You tried to relax. But it’s near impossible when you’re under the same roof as someone you loathe. You watched a Youtube video on your phone while you ate, and then quickly got ready and booked a taxi home.
You’d hoped next time you got to see your boyfriend it would be at your house and away from Sukuna. But, alas, that was not the case. You received a text from him at 10am asking you to come over ASAP.
YOU: is something wrong??
YUUJI: no
YUUJI: just stressed
YUUJI: pls can u come? I’m working tomorrow so I cant stay over ☹️
YOU: okay ☹️ omw 💖
You’ve never had a text like this from him before, and it scared you. Something was telling you that he was downplaying how he was feeling. It took you barely any time to get ready. Forgoing makeup and making an effort in favour of rushing to your boyfriend’s side. Maybe something had happened at work.
Maybe he cheated on you.
He could be dying!
“Shut up…” you whisper to yourself as you pack your toothbrush into its travel case and throw it into your overnight bag. You pick up your car keys, not wanting to waste time waiting for a taxi.
You throw your bag on the passenger seat and speedily drive off. Your anxiety and the adrenaline was getting to you, you knew you’d have to calm down or you’d end up getting into an accident. As you focused on getting to your destination in one piece, you took several deep, slow breaths.
You’re safe.
You park up your car and lock it up. With your bag in tow, you rush to your boyfriend’s apartment. Your left foot taps impatiently after you knock on the door.
No answer.
You knock a little louder.
No answer.
And then you find yourself knocking louder, repeatedly, while you wait for your boyfriend to answer the door. He knew you were coming. He said it was urgent. So why are you waiting here, freezing, for him to answer the door? You’re filled with relief when you see his figure obscuring the light trickling through the cracks of the door. Your teeth chatter, and you begin stepping from foot to foot in a bid to warm through.
But your blood runs cold as the wrong Itadori opens the door.
“Heh. What do you want?” he asks, a cocky grin permeating his features.
“Move.” you demand, barging past him with your bag so that you can hurry to Yuuji’s side. Maybe something is wrong. He could be sick and resting in bed.
“He’s not here.” Sukuna informs you, halting you in your tracks. You turn to face him, a scowl that could kill adorning your face. Did he do something to him? All fear you’ve ever felt from him dies as you approach him, setting down your bag so that you can hit or punch or scratch him if needs be. “Relax.” he tells you.
“Where is he?”
“At work. I thought you had your entire relationship on a Google calendar, you didn’t know?” he laughs, angling his body so that he can bypass you in the skinny hallway. You huff a little, picking up your bag again so that you can follow him.
“But he asked me to come over, he said it was urgent.” you explain, though he doesn’t stop walking. You hurry after him, grabbing his arm until he stops. And he does, his eyes slowly dart down to where your hand holds onto his bicep until you awkwardly let go. “S-Sorry. I’m just confused. Why would he text me if he’s not even here?”
“Sweetheart, I’m not his PA. I don’t fucking know.” he turns away from you again, opening his bedroom door. You huff, again, utterly defeated as you try and decide what to do. You look towards his bedroom door and then to the entrance. You suppose you could go home until he finishes work. Or you could go to the gym he works at and find out what’s happening. You head towards the front door, thinking you’ll decide once you start driving. Sukuna hasn’t fully retreated into his room yet, leaning against his door frame as he calls out to you. “I’m making a bucket, want one?”
Your eyebrows knot as you turn to face him, another involuntary scoff turning to laughter as you look at him in disbelief. He’s got some nerve. You don’t even want to respond, opting to carry on your journey towards the entrance before you look at him again.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? I don’t want to smoke with you.” you roll your eyes.
“Awe, why not, princess? I won’t even add any tax.” he smirks, already heading towards the kitchen as if you’ve given him the answer he clearly wants to hear. And you hate him with your whole heart, because fuck, if you aren’t intrigued. It’s been a while since you’ve had a gravity bong. “Excellent choice, good girl.” he winks as he sees you out of the corner of his eye, as he grabs an empty one litre water bottle from beneath the sink.
You don’t say anything, leaning over the island counter as he prepares the bong for you both. It’s embarrassing, after some time, that you find yourself having to avert your gaze as realise you’ve been staring at his defined back muscles. He’d decided to forgo any form of clothing to cover his torso, only wearing a low riding pair of grey sweatpants, though they’re a darker grey than yours.
It isn’t much better as he whistles, tilting his head for you to join him by the sink. You’d close your eyes if it didn’t make you look like a complete freak, only to hide them from his flexing abs and his juicy pecs. The tattoos aren’t helping, either. It only serves as a reminder that you’re hopelessly trying not to ogle your boyfriends, older, larger, and scarier brother. He’s behaving interestingly, though. He’s never been like this before. He’s dismissive and almost uninterested in you.
“C’mere.” he orders you, dragging you closer to him as he lights the weed in the bowl. You gulp, a little intimidated. Gravity bongs are something you don’t partake in often, you can’t even remember the last time you did one. He moves his finger from the hole he’d poked into the bottle and the water begins to drain from it. Smoke fills the bottle in it’s wake, and when empty, he screws the lid off for you. “Quickly.”
You begin to inhale everything. Not caring how fucked up you feel in the least. You show no signs of stopping, and it impresses him. Your fingers hook around the kitchen counter as you finish, knowing when your bones feel like jelly that you’ve had too much.
“Atta girl,” he comments before repeating the process for himself. He pays you no mind as you wander towards the corner counter space, lifting yourself up like you’re the queen of the kitchen taking her throne.
He continues to ignore your presence as he smokes, inhaling and entirely draining the smoke that had filled the bottle. He tosses it into the sink, walking by you to grab a bag of ice from the freezer, filling two glasses to the brim with the frozen cubes. He fills them with water, sliding one to you.
“Drink.” he commands, and you do, not realising how thirsty you’d become. Your throat burning and eyes flooded with red veins. You drink the water and immediately need to refill. He shows you a kindness, though, handing you his glass to drink before filling your own again. “You’re a real lightweight, huh?”
“Oh shut up. I’m just gonna go.” you tell him, jumping down from the counter and going to collect your bag again.
“You can’t, you’re high.” he reminds you, and in your stoned state the sentence makes you burst into laughter. “You’ll end up crashing your car. Fool.” he gives you another glass of water, refilling his own for a second time before turning to leave the kitchen.
“Great, so I’m stuck here with you and nothing to do?” you pout, opening the fridge to see if there’s anything to eat. “Why did we not make cookies?” you mumble to yourself.
“I have snacks in my room.” Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, like a snake offering an apple in the garden of Eden. You’re tempted. God, you’re tempted. What else are you going to do until Yuuji gets home? He grins, widely, as he hears your feet follow after him as he walks into his bedroom.
You’ve never been in here before. It’s quite tidy, all things considered. It’s very tidy, actually. You’d expected it to be some dimly lit shit hole. It smells nice, save for the weed, the windows are open wide and the sheets smell fresh as you sit on his bed.
He throws a sleeve of Oreos at you and you turn into a giddy child. The two of you kick off your shoes, not caring for where they land as you both get comfortable on his bed. You’re above the duvet, sitting adjacent to him but angled away with your legs crossed. He gets under the covers, though, picking up his Xbox controller as he mindlessly plays GTA V.
You spend far too much time licking the cream of your first Oreo, utterly entranced by the characters, the plot and the violence of the game he’s playing. He doesn’t seem to mind when you ask him a million questions about it, either. He’s more amused that you’re so clueless.
“Here,” he tosses the controller at you. “Go for a drive, it’s fun when you’re stoned.” he tells you.
You’ve played video games before, you aren’t a total idiot. Though he had expected you to ask for more help when he gave you the controller. He thinks it’s cute that you try to obey the speed limits and stop at every red light.
He reaches into his bedside cabinet, pulling out a joint. It’s ignited quickly, his eyes squinting as he inhales and watches the screen to make sure you’re not getting him into trouble on his game.
“You’re not bad when you’re high.” you tell him, passing the controller back to him. He takes it from you, saving his progress before reaching out to smoke again. He sits upright, and you barely react when he pulls you away from where you were sitting until you're facing him. “U-Um…”
He’s giving you a look. That look. The look Yuuji gave you when he told you he had a secret. God, they could be fucking twins if Sukuna wasn’t covered in tattoos, it’s scary. But he doesn’t say he has a secret; he doesn’t say a word. He simply watches you with a pondering stare, but an aim behind his eyes nonetheless.
Your own eyes shift when you see him bring the spliff from his ashtray to his lips. The cherry end of it igniting holds your focus before your eyes are on his again, enraptured by the moment and what he’s thinking. He sucks the smoke deep down into his lungs, and you can’t help but watch the way his chest moves from his heavy breath.
You gasp, softly, as he snatches your stare once again. His thumb and forefinger grasp your chin and tug downwards until your jaw is lowered. His face is barely a centimetre from yours, you know he’s going to kiss you. But why are you about to let him? His lips ghost yours, and you’re taken aback as you feel a plume of smoke invade your mouth. He’s impressed when you breathe it in, though, but smirks wildly as you begin to cough it up.
“You taste like cookies and cream.” he whispers into your ear, the sensation of his words rushes straight to your heat. But your sense comes back, pushing him away from you as you look sternly into his eyes.
“I didn’t say you could do that.” you remind him, preparing to move back to where you were sitting prior. But he stops you, easily, pushing your body down until your head is in his lap but over the duvet cover. “Sukuna…” you sigh, your head and your limbs feel too heavy to move on their own anymore.
“Mm?”
“I’m wi- I’m with Yuuji… I’m with your brother.” you remind him, you move your head a little so that you can look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, though, still focused on his game. You can hear dialogue again, and guns, you’re not as exciting in comparison to that, you suppose.
“I know.” he speaks, his jawline bulging as he swallows and clenches his teeth slightly. “Don’t tell me you thought I was gonna kiss you. Silly girl.” he speaks, still not bothering to grant you with the eye contact you’re so desperately craving for some reason.
But your body betrays you as a whimper escapes from your throat. And that does get his attention. His game pauses, and he looks down at you. But you hide your face, scrunching your eyes shut so he can’t read your expression. But your shy little display tells him all he needs to know.
“Oh? You minx,” he torments you further, and you want to scream. You can’t hide your face anymore, your cheeks becoming too warm and your entire body sizzling with heat. You’re panting, uncomfortably as you try and cool down. “You wanted me to kiss you. You’re with Yuuji, remember?”
“I didn’t! I- I- would never. I love Yuuji, I’m in love with him! I’d never kiss you. Yuck.” you fib, if you weren’t high, you know you’d never be in this predicament. You know you’d never have agreed to hang out with him. But really, it’s a lie. You weren’t high when he asked if you wanted to do buckets. He intrigued you, and you’re a fool, because you fell for it. Hook, line and sinker.
“Hm…” he hums, his spliff resting between his lips as his eyes linger on your cleavage before roaming down your body to your sweatpants. He places the blunt back in the ashtray, his eyes setting their sights on your hands. He moves one with ease above your head, though you instinctively pull it back. But it’s too late, the other one joins, a singular hand of his pin both of your wrists down above your head. You wriggle against him, but you don’t pose a challenge in the least.
“S-Sukuna?” you question as his fingers breach the waistline of your sweatpants. A sadistic smirk sprawls across his face as he realises in your haste to be here you’d not bothered putting on panties. You mewl, desperately, as his fingers find your petalled flesh. He doesn’t do much, simply feeling your slick and teasing your folds as he examines your facial expressions.
“You didn’t want me to kiss you?” he asks again. He drags two fingers up your slippery slit until he finds your clit, rubbing targeted circles around it slowly. The tension makes your hips buck, but his face is stern as he watches you keen for him. “Then why is this cunt soaked?”
His words almost bring you to tears, and he can tell. The way they fill with water so rapidly and your face becomes sweaty. You’re ashamed. You’re embarrassed. He’s humiliating you, but you’re too turned on to tell him to stop. You don’t want him to stop.
“I hate you!” you tell him, and there is certainly venom behind it. Because you mean it, you really fucking mean it. He’s the absolute worst. You’re so in love with Yuuji, but he’s ruined everything, now. You should have known this would happen. He’s been flirting and teasing and bothering you throughout your entire relationship with Yuuji. But you never thought it would come to this, ever. Especially after what you’ve been through, you’d never want to inflict that same agonising betrayal onto Yuuji.
“I know. You think I’m so beneath you, yeah?” he grins, and your mouth falls open in surprise, though his circling touch doesn’t stop. “I’m a drug dealer, I’m a bastard, I’m a piece of shit. But, sweetheart, me ‘n Yuuji didn’t grow up with daddy’s bank account like you. But look at you, princess. You hate me and you’re still letting me play with your sloppy cunt.”
“Fuck you.”
“You can, I know you want that. You’re drenched. My fuckin’ fingers are pruning.” he laughs, you want nothing more than to cover your face in shame, but you can’t while Sukuna’s heavy hand trap your wrists. “Awe, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Much cuter than when you’re trying to be tough f’me.” his rubbing halts, though the sense of abandonment is short lived as he plunges two thick fingers into you tight hole, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit again.
“O-Oh, fuck, hnng—” you groan, eyes meeting his as he pleasures you. And he drinks in the sight. Your tongue lolled from your mouth as you accommodate his touch, the pads of his fingers batter your g-spot again and again until your back arches. “Sukuna, s-stop, we can’t.” you warn him.
He smirks, ignoring you, opting to do the opposite. He increases the pace in which his fingers torment you, his cock leaks when he sees a few tears spill from your eyes. He’s that good, huh? Maybe his little brother isn’t as talented.
“You’re fucking tight. You’re gonna cum, aren’tcha?” he taunts you, you attempt to clamp your thighs around his hand, but it only spurs him on more. His fingers sink deeper. Your mind and rationale become lost to him. “You’re gonna cum for a bastard like me? Your boyfriends brother, too. Gonna cum in your pants like a virgin just for me? Pathetic little girl.”
“Oh FUCK, GOD!” you cry out, thighs trembling around his hand as you orgasm. Your chest heaves, and he doesn’t fail to notice how your nipples have began to poke through your vest. “C-Christ, okay, lets just forget—”
“I’m not done with you.” he speaks, it cuts through you as he lets your hands go. You massage them quickly, before he pushes his full weight on top of you as you lie flat against the mattress atop the sheets. He holds your jaw, roughly, and kisses you.
He humps his clothed, hard cock against your soaked sweatpants, your slick dampening them with each roll of his hips. He breathes heavily as you kiss. An exchange of saliva and clashing teeth as you moan and break away before licking at each other’s tongues again and again.
You shudder when you feel him put his hands down your pants again, collecting the dewiness at the apex of your thighs before forcing it onto your tongue. And you suck, gratefully, replacing the loss of his lips with his monstrously thick fingers. You can hardly believe he fingered you so easily.
Your lips wrap around his digits beautifully. He moans as he watches your little hands in comparison to his own hold it in place so you can bob your head up and down the length, your tongue licks and laves until there isn’t a trace of your dewiness left.
So he kisses you, again, tongues tangling as he dry fucks his cock into your clothed core. His hands roam and pinch and squeeze every inch of your body that he can grab. He yanks your sweatpants down, tossing them aside with little care to where they might land. And he surprises you, again, when he manoeuvres you seamlessly so that you’re straddling him.
He thinks it’s cute as you look around, unsure of how you got into this position. But he brings you back to him when he humps up into you so that you fall forwards. You kiss him again, but he breaks it to speak.
“Let me taste you, baby. Sit on my face.” he tells you. You’re nervous, but you move yourself so that you’re hovering above him. He pushes a finger into your hole and you throw your head back in satisfaction. “I said sit. I wanna know what a slutty princess cunt tastes like, so fucking sit.” he orders, his arms hooking around your thighs and forcing you down until you smother him with your heat.
“FUCK,” you moan, loudly, as his nose nudges against your throbbing clit. You aren’t sure what to do with so much freedom to move. The way he slurps and feasts on your dripping flesh sends wave after wave of embarrassment through you. And he’s loud he’s so fucking noisy as he moans into your heat and drinks every drop that your heavenly cunt has to offer. “J-Jesus… ah—!” you yelp, feeling his palm come down hard to strike your behind.
You begin to roll your hips, rubbing your pussy up and down over his face and stimulating your clit with his nose. He reaches under your vest, tweaking your nipple as you hump his face. He spanks you again, quickly, as you stop moving. You’re too gone, completely lost in the moment as you use him for your pleasure. You’d never have expected this from him.
He relinquishes your nipple to free his cock from it’s material prison. You heard the sticky sound of it ring through the room as he jerks himself off. His moaning becomes louder. The divine taste of your cunt and the ability to stroke himself goes straight to his head. You’re gone, you’re fucking gone. But he’s right behind you. The way you’re smothering him makes him lightheaded, but he’s not letting you go until he’s ready.
You see the pink silhouette of his cock as you look over your shoulder, but you’re desperate to get a better view. He groans, so loudly that you think he might have came, as you tug on his pink hair. Using it to your advantage as you ride his face into your next toe-curling orgasm. And at that, you do collapse. Practically singing his name as you cum in his mouth, only when you’ve reached your high does he let up on you.
He admires the view of your tits as you back up to look down at him, throwing your vest over your head as carelessly as he’s discarded your pants. His face is shimmering with your juices, and you feel another searing tidal wave of embarrassment as the reality sets in that you’ve done this to him. And you’re still cheating on your boyfriend. But you’re past the point of no return, you think. Yuuji is barely on your mind, all of your attention is on his brother, now.
And he’s still not through with you yet.
“Do you need some cock?” he asks.
“Y-Yes.” you nod, pathetically.
“Look at it, then. Look at my cock and beg for it.” he tells you.
You adjust your position so that you’re hovering above his face again but facing his cock perfectly. It’s beautiful, you think. More defined than Yuuji’s but around the same size and width. His cockhead is more prominent and the veins are unmissable. You’d have begged without even being asked if you’d gotten the chance to see it earlier.
“Go on,” he starts. You feel his hands between your shoulder blades and he pushes you down roughly. “Beg for my cock, whore.”
“Please, please Sukuna. I need you to fuck me.” you start, completely reduced to tears as you look at it as your mouth waters. You hold him with both hands, and you’re still unable to hold the entire length of it. “Wanna cum on you. W-Want you to b-bruise my cervix. Need to feel you inside, please, please please.” you’re practically sobbing as you continue.
“Kiss it.” he demands. “Worship my cock, and I’ll decide if your slutty cunt is worthy.” he tells you. Your eyes widen, but you kiss his tip without question. It’s so sweet and affectionate despite how sordid and lewd it is. But you can’t help it. It’s worthy of worship. You’re sure it’ll hurt, but you’ll take it. You don’t mind in the least.
You lick your tongue across his slit, poking your tongue into it slightly and relishing in how he hisses from the sensation. He buries his face in your cunt again, moaning into your soaking folds as you please him.
His length is freed from one of your hands, making the decision to cup his balls as your kiss down his shaft towards his pubis. His head is thrown back as you make contact with his balls, the grunt he releases is ethereal, you’d never have known such beautiful sounds could from him.
You scream, slightly, as he spanks your ass. It encourages you to take him down your throat and ignore your gag reflex and you bob and suck and run your tongue along each vein it can detect. He can barely focus on eating you out, too bewildered with your near pornographic performance.
“Such a good little cocksucker. No wonder Yuuji likes you.” he spanks you again. “Think he’d still like you if I told him I’ve been balls deep down your throat, slut? I’m not so sure. But I like you, a lot more now.”
“S-Shut up.” you tell him, defiantly. You silence him as you lower your pussy to his lips again, distracting him momentarily with your sweet taste.
You feel his cock flexing in your hand, like he’s ready to blow his load right down your willing throat. Even though you don’t want him to cum like this, you wouldn’t mind. You’ll swallow every last drop for him.
He stops you, though, shoving you away from him so that he doesn’t cum prematurely.
“Hands and knees, now.” he speaks coldly. He admires your face quickly before you get into the position he wants you in. It’s glistening with sweat, tears, spit, and his precum. “Good fucking girl.” he spanks you as you arch your back and wait patiently for him. Your legs spread apart and your cunt pulses in anticipation for him to slot himself inside.
He doesn’t though, not right away. Instead, he leans over to his beside table and pulls his phone off charge. He kneels behind you as he pulls up the camera app and swiping to video mode. His sweatpants are shoved down his thighs and rest at his knees. He takes a few photos of your glittering, pulsating cunt, spreading it open as his fingers dig into one of your ass cheeks.
“Pretty fuckin’ princess pussy…” he moans, and you mirror him, following it with a giggle. You feel a sense of pride at his praise, arching your back deeper. “Ohhh there she is, good girl, good little slut.”
He drags his cockhead through your shimmering folds, gasping each time it catches against your hole.
“P-Please fuck me, daddy, n-eed it.” you whine, earning another hard slap against your ass. He’s happy, of course. He didn’t expect you to be such a slut, he’d never have expected you to utter such a filthy title for him of all people. He’s certainly never heard you refer to Yuuji as daddy whenever he hears you fucking through the thin walls.
“You’ve got good manners, for a whore.” he speaks, your hole flutters with each word, but he sees how hard you clench as he degrades you. A new understanding of what your body likes. He’d only been doing it for his benefit, but now, he knows you like it too. “Do you like being a whore for daddy, hm?”
“Y-Yes,” you pant, “Love bein’ a whore for you, daddy…”
“Cute. I’ll give you my cock, then.” he pushes the tip in before pulling out completely again, chuckling at how whiny you are from the loss. “But you know, princess, good whores like to be cummed in. You’ll let me, won’t you?”
“Please… please cum inside. W-Want you to fill me up!” you tell him, and it’s enough. It’s more than enough to have him bullying his cock into your desperate cunt. You moan, boisterously from the stretch. You’re sure their neighbours won’t be happy if they’re home, the whole complex probably heard you. But you don’t care, and neither does he.
He’s glad that you said he could cum inside.
It’s not like you had a choice, though.
“Do you still want me to bruise your cervix?” he asks, angling the phone in his hand to capture how fucking deep he is inside of you. Your ass pressed flush against him as you swallow his cock hungrily. You nod, dumbly, yelping again when you feel a stinging slap against your cushioned ass. “Words.”
“Want you to br-uuise my c-cervix, daddy.” you wince.
“You’re such a good fuck toy, aren’t you?” he laughs.
He begins to pound into you, his brute strength and weight behind every aggressive pummel of his hips. It hurts, God, it fucking hurts as his tip nudges against your cervix. But you don’t care, you’re sure you will when you’re sober and your logical train of thought returns.
But now, in this moment, you truly are Sukuna’s fuck toy.
And it feels fucking sublime.
He captures on film the way that you moan and gasp and plead for something you aren’t even aware of. The way your hands grip into his pristine white sheets. But is favourite part is watching how your pussy stretches open as you swallow his coke can cock. And the way your ass ripples with each pulverizing thrust into you.
“F-Fuck,” he moans, “You’re fucking suffocating me.” he speaks, barely able to contain himself as he feels heady with lust. He doesn’t stop, though, he doesn’t care if you cum anymore. He’ll finger you again to finish you off if needs be, but for now, he needs to be selfish. Thoughts of filling you up and flooding your unprotected womb make him feral.
“Sukuna! S-Stop!” you warn him.
“Huh?” he responds, showing no intention of stopping or slowing as he rams his cock into you repeatedly. The only thing on his mind is finishing, he couldn’t care less about your change of heart or guilty conscience.
“F-Feels funny, I- I can’t! Hnnng—!” you finish, cunt squirting and gushing like a fountain all over him. “Oh my god…” you pant, burying your face in the pillows as you hide your shame from him.
“Holy fuck,” he responds, thrilled that he’d captured the moment on film. You show no signs of stopping either. You squirt as much as a backed-up teenager getting his first handjob. He spanks your pussy and rubs his hand all over it, making a complete mess of the two of you and the sheets below. “Dirty little squirter, hah? Fuck, you’re like a pornstar.” he tells you, chuckling again.
You don’t dare show your face, but you mewl into the pillows as you ride out the rest of your high as he shoves his cock back into you.
“Do it again, on my cock.” he demands.
“C-Can’t, can’t cum anymore.” you tell him, utterly spent and defeated as you allow him to use your body for his own benefit.
“Brat. You’ll cum on daddy’s cock and be grateful that I’ve been so good to you.” he explains. And true to his word, he manages to build it up in you again, somehow, as he continuously batters his length into your g-spot until your vision turns white.
He’s not doing much better, either, still enraptured by the sight of your dripping wet pussy and soiled sheets. It’s something he needs to see again, a sight he will treasure ‘til the day he fucking dies.
“Cum, slut. Make a fucking mess.” he speaks through gritted teeth.
“Mmmnf, hah, aaaah—!” you moan, granting his wish. The sight helps him topple over into his own bliss. His cum flooding your ruined walls, he fucks it further into you, but pulls out eventually to see his sperm dripping from your filthy cunt.
“Are you embarrassed, brat? You sprayed yourself again.” he snickers, spreading your pussy open with two fingers to see the mixture of his cum and your release spill from your twitching hole. “Has Yuuji ever made you do that? No… I’m sure he doesn’t know you’re this much of a dirty whore. But I do, I know now.”
The mere mention of the man you’ve betrayed has you bursting into tears. The sex was mind-blowing, yes, but at what cost? You’ve been begging him to move in. Hell, he was talking about marrying you. But you can’t have that with him, now, not after this.
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You sobered up a little after a shower, making sure to keep the door locked as you washed yourself of your indiscretion. You even waited in there until you dried off to get changed, not wanting to risk Sukuna seeing you naked again. The damage is done, of course, but you at least want to be able to proudly say it was a mistake that will never happen again.
Maybe Yuuji will forgive you.
There’s no way you can keep it from him. Not after what you went through. It’ll break his heart, of course it will. But you can’t hide it, it’ll just get worse over time when it eventually comes out, because it will. Whether you tell him or Sukuna does through a weed induced stupor, the truth will come out.
You’ve been checking the time on your phone repeatedly to see if Yuuji has finished work yet. Eager and filled with fear and anxiety so that you can tell him, honestly, what happened. He’s going to hate you. There’s no way he won’t hate you after this. But you owe it to him and you owe it to yourself to be truthful.
You tense up as you hear a knock at the door. Yuuji wouldn’t knock, so you know who it is.
“Go away.” you warn him, but it doesn’t deter him.
“Aw, don’t talk to daddy like that.” he smiles, a shit eating grin that you want to smash against concrete.
“You’ve ruined my life, get out of here.” you tell him, crossing your legs as you check the time on your phone again. You sigh, throwing it further down the bed so that it’s out of reach. You’d missed how he shrugged his shoulders with a laugh as he turned to leave. But you stop him. “Don’t tell Yuuji, please. I want to be the one to tell him.”
“Tell him… what?”
You look at him, bewildered, unable to process if he’s being serious or not.
“That we fucked.” you remind him, deciding you aren’t about to spend all day trying to decipher his tone. “I need to be the one to tell him, so don’t say anything.”
“Oh, tell him that?” he questions, laughing again as he realises he knows something you don’t know.
“It’s not fucking funny, Sukuna!”
“Yeah, it is, you’re a little slow on the uptake.” he laughs some more, sitting on the edge of the bed. His ruby red eyes piercing into yours intimidatingly despite the smile on his face. “You don’t need to tell Yuuji anything.”
“Yeah, I d—”
“Yuuji knows.” he laughs, louder, almost bursting into hysterics as he sees the astonished look on your face.
“W-What?” you sigh, looking around the room in horror.
“Yeah… I mean, c’mon.” he smirks. “Why else would he text you to come over, when he wasn’t even home?”
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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brunchable · 2 months ago
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The Marriage Bet
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Pairings: Best Friend Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Themes: A bet. A bit of comedy but mostly fluff and Bucky treating his woman right ;)
Summary: If in three years time both of you were still single, you will marry your best friend, Bucky. That's the bet.
A/N: For those of you who voted for 'Calm Down, Dad Mode' I've added it to this story. This has got to be my favorite fluff FML. Also let me TELL YOU, the cravings in pregnancy and the emotions are real because I lived it lmao. PART 2
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Three Years Ago
"You know what we should do?” Bucky said out of the blue, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that made your stomach flip. The two of you had been lounging on his couch for hours, talking about everything and nothing. It was a lazy night filled with laughter, shared memories, and the kind of comfortable silence only you and Bucky knew how to savour.
You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”
“If we’re still single in three years… let’s get married,” he announced, as if it was the most logical suggestion in the world. His tone was light, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t joking.
You stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was serious. “Bucky, have you lost your mind?”
“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, his lips twitching up into that familiar smirk that made your heart skip. “But think about it. No more crappy dates, no more getting your heart broken by idiots who don’t deserve you. Just us. You and me. We already know each other’s worst habits, and we get along. It’d be a good marriage.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “You make it sound like we’re signing up for a business merger.”
He laughed at that, the sound deep and genuine. “Maybe. But at least you’d know you’re stuck with someone who’s never going to walk out on you. Someone who’d fight for you.”
The way he said it made your throat tighten, and for a second, you allowed yourself to picture it. A life with Bucky, the two of you navigating the ups and downs together. No more failed relationships, no more loneliness. Just the comfort and security of someone who knew you better than anyone else.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you murmured, still stunned by the idea.
He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, I am. So, what do you say?”
You hesitated for just a beat, then broke into a grin. “Deal, Barnes. If we’re still single in three years, I’ll marry your crazy ass.”
He grinned back, his hand shooting out to seal the promise with a firm handshake. But as your fingers clasped around his, the energy between you shifted — playful and yet, inexplicably serious.
“Deal,” he echoed softly, a knowing look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.
× × × × 
Present
You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes skimming over the city lights below as the faint notes of Taylor Swift’s break-up songs filled the air. You and Bucky had been up here for hours, talking and drinking, the night air crisp against your skin.
It had been a rough few months for you — the breakup still felt fresh, the sting of rejection and disappointment lingering. But being here with Bucky made it easier. He had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like everything would be okay, even when it didn’t seem that way.
“Y’know, you’re the best,” you murmured, your words slurred slightly from the champagne. “I mean it, Buck. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He smiled softly, his gaze warm as he watched you. “Good thing you don’t have to find out, huh?”
You nodded, letting out a sigh as you turned back to the view. “Still, I feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m destined to be alone or something.”
“That’s not true,” he said quietly, setting his glass down and turning to face you fully. “And you know it.”
You shrugged, glancing over at him. “Yeah, well, sometimes it feels like it. Everyone I’ve ever dated just—”
You stopped mid-sentence as Bucky suddenly shifted, reaching into his pocket. Your eyes widened as he pulled out a small blue velvet box and, without hesitation, flipped it open. The soft light of the rooftop glinted off the 1.5-carat diamond ring nestled inside — simple, elegant, and undeniably breathtaking. 
“What’s that?” you asked, your breath catching in your throat.
Bucky arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look. “An engagement ring, Y/N. What else?”
“Yeah, I know it’s a ring!” you sputtered, your mind reeling. “But why—how—what are you doing with it?”
Bucky sighed, muttering under his breath, “For someone so smart, she really can’t see what’s right in front of her.”
You barely had time to process the words before he got up from his sitting position and slowly knelt down on one knee. The movement made your heart jump into your throat, your breath hitching as he looked up at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.
“I want to marry you, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm and sure. “Not because of some bet or joke we made all those years ago, but because… I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be the one you come home to. The one who makes you laugh when you’re sad. The one who fights for you.”
You felt your chest tighten as the weight of his words sank in, the sincerity in his voice making it almost impossible to breathe. “Bucky… this is—”
“I know this is crazy,” he continued, cutting you off gently, his gaze never leaving yours. “But when have we ever been normal, huh? I’m not asking you to feel something you don’t or to change anything between us. But I am a man of my word, and I’m keeping the promise we made.”
Your mind raced, memories of that night flashing through your mind — the promise, the shared laughter, the way he’d looked at you back then as if you were the only thing that mattered. And now, here he was, years later, kneeling in front of you with an engagement ring, ready to turn that promise into something real.
He took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as he held out the ring, his expression almost pleading. “So… will you marry me? Not because you feel like you have to, but because you want to?”
You stared down at him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. The world seemed to fade away, the only thing anchoring you being his blue eyes, filled with nothing but hope and determination.
“Well? Say something, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper now. “Because I’m dying here.”
You let out a breathless laugh, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over as you shook your head in disbelief. 
“You’re really going all out, huh?” you teased, “Getting down on one knee and everything… how could I say no to a man with such dedication?”
Bucky blinked, caught off guard, and then let out a soft laugh of his own. “Is that a yes, or are you just stalling to make me sweat more?”
You glanced at the ring, then back at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I guess… if I have to be stuck with someone for the rest of my life… it might as well be you.”
“Yes,” you added quickly, your smile widening as you looked at him with all the warmth and affection you felt. “Of course it’s a yes, you idiot!”
Relief washed over his face, his grin so wide it could’ve lit up the entire rooftop. “You really know how to keep a guy on edge, don’t you?���
“Gotta keep things interesting,” you replied with a laugh, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek. “I can’t make it too easy for you.”
His chuckle was deep and genuine, the tension melting from his shoulders as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can be so mean you know that?”
“Mean?” you scoffed, giving him a playful look of disbelief. “You’re proposing to me, remember? I’m just making sure you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.”
Bucky shook his head, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “Oh, I know. And I’m still all in, even if you make me work for it.”
You grinned, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Bucky didn’t hesitate, his arms coming up to hold you close, his chin resting gently on top of your head. The warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.
Slowly, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes locked with his. The sound of the music drifted softly through the air, wrapping around you both like an embrace.
You could see the tenderness in his gaze, the way his eyes softened as he looked down at you. There was something indescribable in the way he held you, his hands warm and secure against your back, as if he never wanted to let go.
“You know,” you murmured softly, a small smile playing on your lips, “I completely forgot about that bet.”
Bucky’s lips quirked up at the corners as he started to sway gently, rocking you both back and forth in time with the music. 
“Yeah? Good thing I haven’t.” he agreed quietly, his voice low and filled with something that made your heart flutter.
You let out a content sigh, closing your eyes for a moment as you swayed together under the soft glow of the rooftop lights, the melody of the song weaving its way into your soul. There was a peace, a sense of rightness in the way his hands rested on your waist, the way your fingers curled into his shirt.
Opening your eyes, you tilted your head slightly, the corners of your lips curving up into a playful smile. “I’m really going to make you regret this, you know.”
He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently against your side as he gazed down at you. “Doubt it. But you’re welcome to try, sweetheart—I mean what else could I possibly not know about you?”
Your smile widened as you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “Oh, you’ll find out. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I’m not full of surprises.”
Bucky’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Just remember you asked for it,” you teased, your voice soft as your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt. “You’re the one who’s committing to a lifetime of never quite knowing what I’ll do next.”
“Yeah?” he murmured, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again, a smile playing on his own. “I guess I like keeping things interesting, too.”
A laugh bubbled up in your chest, and you felt the tension melt away as you both swayed gently to the music. It felt like a new beginning — a promise that whatever came next, you’d be facing it together.
× × × ×
A few months later.
The garden was alive with soft laughter and murmurs as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. The air was filled with the delicate scent of roses and jasmine, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided the perfect backdrop for the small, intimate gathering of friends.
Bucky stood under the floral archway, his suit somehow both perfectly fitted and slightly askew in that way only Bucky could pull off. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers drumming absently on his thigh. When you turned the corner, your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help but smile at the exaggerated sigh of relief he let out.
“Thank God you showed up,” he teased, his voice carrying over the gentle breeze. “Thought I’d have to marry Sam instead.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes as you made your way down the short aisle, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah, yeah, keep it up, Barnes. He’d leave you at the altar, you know.”
Bucky grinned, his shoulders relaxing as you stepped up to him. “True. He couldn’t handle my morning breath.”
The officiant cleared his throat gently, drawing soft chuckles from your friends. Bucky’s gaze stayed locked on yours, a playful twinkle in his eyes as if you were sharing a private joke no one else could understand.
“You ready for this?” he murmured softly, his tone light but his smile genuine.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, giving him a small nod.
The ceremony was simple and sweet, with your closest friends standing in a loose circle around you, their smiles reflecting the joy and camaraderie that had always defined your relationship with Bucky. 
When it came time for the vows, Bucky cleared his throat dramatically, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.
“I’m not good at this stuff,” he began, waving the paper around, “so I wrote it down. Just so I don’t forget the important parts. Like promising I won’t eat your fries without asking.”
You let out a snort, shaking your head. “So that’s why you’re marrying me? For my fries?”
“Partly,” Bucky said with a wink, earning a few laughs from your friends. “But seriously… I promise to always be your partner in crime. To watch bad movies with you, to be your go-to plus-one for all those events you hate, and to be the one you can call at 3 a.m. when the world feels like too much.”
His voice softened slightly, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I promise to be your best friend, to listen, and to support you. And yeah, to not eat your fries — unless you’re not looking.”
You chuckled, blinking back the unexpected prickle of tears. “Damn, Barnes. Setting the bar high for husband material, aren’t you?”
“Someone’s gotta do it,” he replied with a smirk.
When it was your turn, you took a deep breath, glancing down at your own slightly crumpled paper. “Bucky, I promise to keep being your reality check, to make sure you don’t take yourself too seriously. I promise to help you with your crazy woodworking projects, even when you refuse to read the instructions. And I promise to be your partner in all things — the weird, the good, and the unpredictable.”
Bucky’s grin softened into a small, genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think we’re gonna be pretty good at this whole marriage thing.”
“I think so too,” you murmured back.
The officiant’s voice broke through the quiet moment, his smile warm. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Bucky, you may now—”
“Wait,” Bucky interrupted, holding up a hand as he turned to you, his expression half-serious, half-teasing. “Can I kiss you?”
You blinked, surprised. “What?”
“You know,” he said, shrugging a shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “This is technically our first kiss. I want to get it right. So… how do you like it?”
A burst of laughter escaped you, the tension in your shoulders melting away as the sheer Bucky-ness of the question made you grin. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Come on, humor me,” he pressed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Slow? Gentle? Or should I just go for it?”
You shook your head, still laughing softly. “Just… kiss me, you goof.”
Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes,” he said softly, leaning in. “I’ll make it good.”
His grin widened and shifts a little closer to you, Bucky dipped his head and you felt your noses brush. His breath is on your lips, and you quiver a bit at the odd sensation. Without another moment to spare you realise that he's pressing his lips to yours—it was nothing like you’d expected. His hand slipped to the small of your back, drawing you closer, his eyes fully closed. Bucky was concentrating on the kiss, and you realised that your eyes were wide open. Slowly you close them, hiding away your brilliant orbs. 
Bucky’s lips are oddly doft in this kiss and it stays slow and sweet. He wrapped his arm around you more, lifting you slightly off your feet. The veil fluttered around you like a soft cocoon, and then everything disappeared as his mouth moved insync with you, his kiss remained slowly, his mouth molding against yours in a way that made your knees weak.
His fingers gently tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing softly along your cheekbone as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.
But then he shifted, tilting your head just slightly as he deepened the kiss, his hold around you tightening. It was then that you felt him let go completely — every barrier, every wall he’d kept up around himself crumbling as he poured everything into that kiss. 
Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the faint cheers and whistles of your friends—Sam being the most obnoxious—but it all felt like background noise. It was just you and Bucky, wrapped up in this kiss that felt like it had been building up for years. His lips slid over yours with a kind of sweet intensity, a silent confession of everything he hadn’t said — of everything he didn’t know how to say.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting gently against yours, both of you were breathless, hearts pounding in unison. He didn’t let go, his arms still wrapped around you as if you might disappear if he loosened his grip.
A soft cheer went up from your friends—Sam being the most obvious— and Bucky’s grin turned almost smug. “How was that?”
You let out a shaky laugh, your hands clutching his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. “Yeah, Buck. I think you got it just right.”
“Good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for a long, lingering moment before his smile widened into something boyish and relieved. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“Don’t worry,” you teased gently, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re not getting rid of me after a kiss like that.”
Bucky’s laugh was soft, his nose brushing against yours. “Guess I should keep practicing, huh?”
You nodded, your grin matching his. “Yeah. Keep practicing, Barnes.”
And as he pulled you in for another kiss, slower and just as sweet as the first, you knew that this — all of this — was exactly how it was meant to be.
× × × ×
1.5 years later
You were pacing back and forth in the bathroom, your heart hammering in your chest. Every few seconds, your eyes would dart to the three little sticks sitting ominously on the edge of the sink — three white, plastic harbingers of potential chaos.
“Come on, come on, come on,” you whispered frantically to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as if willing the tests to disappear — or at least show some clarity.
How did it come to this? You were supposed to be life partners — partners in crime, best friends — no strings attached, no expectations. Just two people who promised to be there for each other. Sure, you got married, but it was all because of the bet. A way to keep each other from loneliness, you both said. Nothing more, right?
Except somewhere along the line, late-night talks had turned into stolen kisses. Comforting hugs had turned into tangled limbs. And now… this.
“Oh my god, he’s going to flip,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the still-blank screens on the tests. “This isn’t how we were supposed to—”
“Supposed to what?”
You jumped about a foot in the air, letting out a small squeak of surprise as Bucky’s voice filled the bathroom. You whipped around, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as you spotted him leaning casually against the doorframe, an amused smirk on his lips.
“Bucky! Don’t—don’t just sneak up on people like that!” you stammered, instinctively shuffling over to the sink to block his view.
His smirk widened. “I didn’t sneak. You’re just too distracted, sweetheart.” He pushed off the doorframe, crossing his arms as he stepped closer. “What’s going on in here?”
“Nothing!” you squeaked, your voice a little too high-pitched.
Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh-huh. So, you’re just hanging out in the bathroom, talking to yourself?”
“Yes!” you answered quickly, nodding like a bobblehead. “Yep, just a totally normal conversation with… myself. Very productive.”
He eyed you, suspicion etched all over his face. “Uh-huh. And why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“I don’t!” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest as if that could somehow shield you from his scrutiny.
Bucky took another step closer, his gaze flicking over your shoulder. “Then why are you standing like that?”
You moved subtly, trying to casually scoot to the left, but your back hit the edge of the sink. “Like what?”
“Like you’re hiding something,” he said, leaning down slightly to look your directly in the eyes. “What’s behind you, Y/N?”
“Nothing!” you insisted, but your hand twitched involuntarily, knocking into one of the sticks. It clattered onto the counter, bouncing once before rolling to a stop right at Bucky’s feet.
You froze.
Bucky’s eyes flicked down to the test, and his entire expression shifted — from curiosity to confusion to wide-eyed realization.
“Wait… is that a—?”
“No!” you yelped, diving forward to snatch up the stick and hide it behind your back. You stood there, breathing heavily, your face flushed with a mix of panic and embarrassment.
Bucky’s gaze slid back to you, his lips quirking into an incredulous smile. “Y/N, are those… pregnancy tests?”
You glanced around desperately, as if you could conjure up some kind of diversion to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Uh… no? Maybe?”
“Sweetheart…” Bucky stepped around your easily, and in one quick motion, he plucked the other two tests off the sink. He held them up, his eyes wide and eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. “There are three.”
“Yeah, well… you know, the first one could be a fluke, and the second one too, and…” you trailed off, wincing at how ridiculous you sounded.
Bucky blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. “Three tests, huh? You’re nothing if not thorough.”
“Bucky!” you hissed, mortification washing over you. “This isn’t funny!”
“Maybe not,” he admitted, though his lips were still twitching with amusement. “But you’re freaking out over here, hiding them like I wasn’t gonna notice.”
“I wasn’t freaking out!” you lied, folding your arms across your chest again. “I was just… assessing the situation.”
He raised an eyebrow, waving one of the tests in front of your face. “Assessing, huh? And what’s the situation, then?”
You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know, okay? I haven’t looked at them yet!”
There was a beat of silence. Then—
“Wait, you haven’t looked?” Bucky’s voice was filled with genuine disbelief. “You’ve been pacing around in here, stressing yourself out, and you haven’t even checked?”
“I’m not ready!” you snapped defensively. “I mean… what if they’re positive?”
Bucky’s grin softened into something more genuine, and he stepped forward, gently cupping your cheek. “Then they’re positive.”
Your eyes met his, the sincerity and calmness in his gaze making some of your panic ebb away. “But we’re not even— I mean, this was supposed to be—”
“A bet?” he finished softly, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah. I remember. But bets don’t always go the way you plan.”
You swallowed hard, your heart still hammering wildly. “You’re not… mad?”
“Mad?” he repeated, his expression incredulous. “Why the hell would I be mad? I mean, sure, this is unexpected. But mad?” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “C’mon, Y/N. You really think I’d be mad about having a family with you?”
The words made your heart stutter, and you stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Bucky…”
“Let’s just see what they say, alright?” he murmured gently, stepping back and nodding toward the tests. “No more freaking out until we know.”
With trembling hands, you turned each test over, your breath hitching as you looked at the results.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Bucky’s grin had barely faded before the reality of the situation seemed to really hit him this time. His gaze drifted back to the three tests lined up on the sink, and you watched as his face slowly drained of colour.
“Bucky?” you asked cautiously, noticing the way his grip on your arm loosened slightly.
He blinked, his eyes darting between you and the tests like he was trying to solve some impossible puzzle. “So, uh… positive. All three?”
You nodded slowly, worry beginning to creep back in. “Yeah, Buck. All three.”
“Oh… Oh, wow,” he muttered, his eyes widening. “That’s… that’s a lot of positive.”
“Bucky—”
“I mean, I knew one was a lot, but three—positives?” he rambled, swaying slightly on his feet. “That’s… that’s a whole lot of… baby.”
“Bucky, are you okay?” you asked, reaching out to steady him as his face turned even paler.
“I’m—yeah, I just—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes rolling back slightly as his knees buckled.
“Bucky!” you shouted, grabbing for him as he crumpled to the floor in a faint.
You managed to catch his weight just enough to keep him from completely knocking his head on the tiles, though it took every ounce of strength you had to keep him semi-upright.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” you huffed, looking down at his unconscious form with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You’re the one who said you’d be fine with this!”
He let out a soft, incoherent groan, his head lolling to the side as you carefully lowered him all the way to the ground and raised his legs above his head for bloodflow.
“Of course you’d faint, you big drama queen,” you muttered, crouching down beside him and lightly patting his cheeks. “Come on, Buck. Wake up. I’m not doing this alone, you hear me?”
After a few more pats and murmured reassurances, his eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked up at you, dazed and confused.
“Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice slurred. “What… what happened?”
“You fainted, you big idiot,” you said, the frustration in your tone softened by the overwhelming relief that he was okay. “Over three little tests.”
Bucky stared at you blankly, then his gaze drifted back to the sink where the tests still sat in a neat row, mocking him with their tiny positive signs.
“Oh… right,” he murmured, his face scrunching up as he tried to process it all again. “So it wasn’t a dream?”
“Nope.” You shook your head, giving him a half-smile. “Definitely not a dream.”
“Damn,” he breathed, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I really fainted, huh?”
“Yeah, you did,” you replied, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice. “And you’re lucky I didn’t let you hit your head.”
He chuckled weakly, his gaze still lingering on the tests. Then, slowly, he reached up, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently.
“I love you, Y/N, you know that?” he mumbled, his voice soft and a little slurred as he still looked dazed. “Not like a friend, but y’know… like, love love.”
You blinked at him, surprised by the sudden confession. A laugh bubbled up in your throat, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting you all over again. “Bucky, you’re still out of it.”
“Yeah, probably,” he murmured, blinking up at you with a lopsided grin. “But doesn’t make it any less true.”
Shaking your head, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, your smile softening. “I know, Buck. We’ll talk about that later when you’re not busy fainting over pregnancy tests, okay?”
“’Kay,” he mumbled, his eyelids drooping slightly. “But just… so you know.”
“I know,” you repeated gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Just rest for a second, and then we’ll figure this all out together.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes drifting shut for a moment before he opened them again, looking at you with a sleepy smile. “We’re really gonna be parents, huh?”
“Yeah,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection. “We really are.”
“Cool,” he murmured, his head lolling back against the bathroom tiles. “Love you, Y/N… love love.”
You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you sat beside him, holding his hand. “Love you too, Bucky. Now, no more fainting, okay?”
“No promises,” he mumbled, but his grip tightened around your hand, as if even in his half-conscious state, he didn’t want to let go.
And as you sat there on the bathroom floor, Bucky still looking a little woozy but smiling up at you with that goofy, endearing grin, you couldn’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — everything was going to be just fine.
× × × ×
First Trimester.
The clock on the kitchen wall glowed a soft, accusatory 2:37 a.m. as Bucky shuffled groggily into the dimly lit space, scratching at his head. He was half-asleep, dressed in rumpled sweatpants and a t-shirt that had seen better days, and still trying to figure out why he’d been dragged from his warm bed.
He paused mid-step when he spotted you sitting at the kitchen table, your shoulders hunched, face buried in your hands. He blinked, his brain struggling to catch up with the situation. “Uh, sweetheart… what’s going on?”
Your only response was a pitiful sniffle, followed by another one. Bucky’s brows shot up in alarm, and he quickly moved to your side, crouching down in front of you.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, peering up at you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did something happen?”
You shook your head, letting out a small, hiccuping sob. “I… I really wanted… chocolate chip pancakes… with whipped cream and strawberries…”
Bucky blinked again, glancing around the empty kitchen as if he expected a stack of pancakes to magically appear on the counter. “Okay… uh… we don’t have any of that stuff right now, but I can go to the store—”
“Everything’s closed!” you wailed, cutting him off with a fresh wave of tears. “And I really wanted it now!”
The sheer devastation in your voice made Bucky’s heart clench in sympathy — but a very tiny, very unhelpful part of him also found it hilariously absurd. He had fought aliens, Hydra agents, and all manner of nightmares… but he’d never faced down a pregnant wife in the throes of a pancake craving at nearly 3 a.m.
“Oh,” he said lamely, scratching his head again as he tried to think of a solution that didn’t involve breaking into the nearest IHOP. “Okay, um… we can make pancakes without chocolate chips, right?”
“But I don’t want plain pancakes!” you cried, your voice wobbling dangerously. “I want chocolate chip pancakes! And… and I want whipped cream on top, but we don’t have any!”
Bucky swallowed, his panic rising as you continued to cry. He was the Winter Soldier, damn it. He could handle this. There had to be a way out of this. “Okay, alright. Just breathe, okay? How about… uh… what if I make you some toast? I’ll put some Nutella on it? It’s kind of like chocolate.”
“It’s not the same!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands again. “I want… pancakes…”
Bucky let out a helpless laugh, running a hand down his face as he glanced at the empty fridge like it was somehow betraying him. “Baby, you’re killing me here.”
You sniffled, peeking out from between your fingers with watery eyes. “You don’t understand, Buck. I can taste the pancakes. I can taste the strawberries… I can feel the whipped cream…”
Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again, at a complete loss for words. “Yeah, uh, I can’t pull that out of thin air. But…” He glanced around, his gaze falling on a tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. “What if I make you a sundae? It’s kinda like a pancake… just cold.”
“No…” You shook your head, another tear rolling down your cheek. “It’s not pancakes…”
Bucky let out a long, dramatic sigh, his hands resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Here’s the deal. Tomorrow morning, I’m gonna wake up, and I’m going to go get you all the chocolate chips and whipped cream and strawberries you want, alright? I’ll make a pancake buffet.”
“But I want it now,” you murmured miserably, rubbing at your eyes.
“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he cooed gently, reaching out to pat your head awkwardly. “But unless you want me to bust into some diner and get myself arrested, I’m gonna need you to hang in there for a few more hours.”
Your lips trembled, and you nodded reluctantly, sniffling again. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”
Bucky smiled softly, his heart melting a little. “Nah. You’re growing a tiny human.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “Although, I gotta say, if I can handle your craving meltdowns, I think I deserve some kind of medal. Or at least, like… superhero husband status.”
A small, watery laugh escaped you despite yourself, and Bucky’s smile widened triumphantly.
“There she is,” he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your temple. “Look, we can’t have pancakes right now, but how about we get creative? Maybe I can whip something up with what we do have? I’m talking PB&J sandwich sculptures. Or,” he gasped dramatically, “a waffle made out of popcorn!”
Your eyebrows furrowed, but the corners of your mouth twitched. “Popcorn waffles?”
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he said with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “This could be a revolutionary invention, Y/N. We could change the breakfast game forever.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, wiping at your tears as Bucky’s ridiculousness slowly chased away the lingering sadness. “You’re such a weirdo, you know that?”
“Yeah, but you married me,” he shot back, a grin spreading across his face. “So who’s the real weirdo?”
“Still you,” you teased softly, shaking your head.
Bucky let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow, so rude. No respect for the man who’s about to go MacGyver your snack cravings at 3 a.m.”
You smiled despite yourself, reaching out to take his hand. “Thank you, Buck.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. “Now, what do you say we get a little creative in this kitchen and see if we can’t make something that’ll make these pancake cravings shut up for a bit?”
“Okay,” you agreed, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you. “But I’m holding you to that pancake buffet tomorrow morning.”
“Pancake buffet with extra chocolate chips, whipped cream, and strawberries,” he promised with a mock salute. “You’ve got my word.”
And as Bucky scoured the pantry for the weirdest possible combinations — “How do you feel about a peanut butter, banana, and potato chip sandwich?” — you couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of your cravings lightening in the face of his relentless optimism and willingness to do whatever it took to make you smile.
“World’s best husband,” you murmured fondly as he started arranging sandwich slices into a goofy face.
“Damn right,” he replied with a wink, holding up the plate proudly. “And this? This is my masterpiece.”
You took one look at the ridiculous sandwich sculpture — a lopsided smile made from pickle slices and a beard of crumbled crackers — and the tears came flooding back, but this time they were unstoppable.
“Bucky… you’re… you’re the best husband… in the world!” you sobbed, your shoulders shaking as you buried your face in your hands.
“Whoa, whoa, wait—hold on!” Bucky stammered, his eyes widening in alarm as he quickly set the plate down and moved back to your side. “What… why are you crying? Sweetheart, it’s just a sandwich! A really ugly sandwich, but—”
You let out another wail, shaking your head as more tears spilled over. “No, it’s not that! It’s you! You’re just so—so good, and sweet, and—and I don’t deserve you!”
Bucky froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 
“Wait, what? Where did that come from?” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around as if he expected someone to pop out with a manual for how to handle this. “Hey, you deserve everything, okay? Even pancakes at 3 a.m. if I could make it happen.”
“I just… you’re always trying so hard, and you’re just… you’re amazing,” you whimpered, reaching out to grab his hand like it was a lifeline. “And I’m crying because I can’t have pancakes, and I’m a mess, and you’re making me a weird pickle-beard sandwich…”
Bucky stared at you, completely lost, before he finally let out a helpless, incredulous laugh. “Okay, okay, I’m officially out of my depth here,” he muttered, gently pulling you into his arms and patting your back awkwardly. “But hey, let’s save the compliments for when I’m not half-asleep, yeah?”
You nodded miserably against his chest, your sobs starting to subside as his steady heartbeat grounded you.
“Good, because you’re gonna make me cry if you keep this up,” he joked softly, running a soothing hand through your hair. “And no one wants to see the Winter Soldier ugly-cry over a pancake buffet.”
You let out a watery giggle at that, sniffling as you pulled back to look up at him. “You’re really gonna get me all the pancakes tomorrow?”
“Every last one,” he promised, his smile gentle and reassuring. “Now come on, let’s see if we can make this popcorn waffle thing work. You’ll need to tell our kid one day that their mom ate the weirdest thing ever while pregnant,” Bucky finished with a grin, his hand sliding down to gently cup your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears with his thumb. “That way, when they give us a hard time as teenagers, I can say, ‘Hey, kid, I made your mom a popcorn waffle at 3 a.m. She bettered have loved me.’”
You laughed again, hiccupping through the tears as you tried to calm yourself. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
Bucky shrugged, his lips twitching up into a lopsided smile. “Maybe. But you married me, so what does that say about you?”
“That I’m a glutton for punishment,” you teased softly, feeling some of the tension start to ease as his thumb continued its gentle, comforting strokes on your cheek.
“Or just smart enough to know when you’ve got a good thing,” he murmured back, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna keep being that good thing — even when it means making bizarre snacks and wrangling your tears at stupid o’clock in the morning.”
You let out a shaky breath, smiling up at him as you looped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Bucky.”
His eyes softened, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “I love you too, sweetheart. And we’re gonna figure out this whole craving thing. Even if it means starting a midnight pancake truck or something.”
The image of Bucky in an apron, serving pancakes from a food truck, was so ridiculous that you let out a genuine, hearty laugh. “A pancake truck?”
“Why not?” He smirked, his fingers playing with a lock of your hair. “I’d be the hottest pancake chef around. We’d have a line out the door.”
“Because everyone’s desperate for pancakes at three in the morning?” you asked, still smiling.
“Exactly,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “They’d be calling me the Pancake Soldier instead of the Winter Soldier.”
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter again, your earlier tears completely forgotten. “I swear, you’re impossible, Bucky Barnes.”
“Impossible and all yours,” he said with a wink, then glanced at the kitchen. “Now, how about we whip up some sort of Frankenstein snack to tide you over until the morning, huh?”
With another sniffle and a smile, you nodded. “Alright. But I’m still holding you to that pancake buffet.”
“Wouldn’t dream of backing out,” he promised, kissing your forehead again before guiding you to a chair. “You sit right here, and let Chef Barnes work his magic.”
You watched as Bucky moved around the kitchen, his clumsy efforts at ‘creative’ snack-making bringing a smile to your face despite the ridiculousness of it all. He muttered under his breath, concocting weird combinations — “What if we crush some pretzels on top?” — and talking to the food like it would reveal some hidden trick.
Eventually, he managed to cobble together another makeshift treat: a peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich with a few random M&Ms sprinkled on top for good measure. It looked as chaotic as you felt, but the effort and love behind it made your heart swell.
You stared at the messy sandwich, your lips trembling again — but this time with a whole different set of emotions.
“Hey, no more tears,” Bucky said quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m running out of ideas here, babe.”
“I’m not crying,” you sniffed, reaching out to take a bite. “It’s just… you’re really, really sweet, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Bucky let out a soft chuckle, reaching over to give your knee a gentle squeeze. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered, your heart feeling lighter than it had all night.
“Good.” He smiled, leaning back in his chair as he watched you take another bite. “Now eat up, because come morning, I’m getting up at dawn to get everything we need for that pancake buffet. You’re gonna be the happiest pancake-eating pregnant lady in the world.”
“And you’re gonna be the best pancake-making husband in the world,” you replied with a soft smile, warmth spreading through your chest.
“Damn right,” Bucky murmured, his voice filled with so much affection it made your heart skip a beat.
As you finished the bizarre snack and Bucky continued to ramble on about potential pancake flavors and topping combinations, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly grateful.
Because, bizarre cravings and all, there was no one else you’d rather navigate the chaos with than him — your best friend, your partner, your ridiculous, wonderful Bucky Barnes.
× × × ×
Third Trimester
Bucky’s overprotectiveness had started out in small, endearing ways—like lingering in doorways or making sure you had an extra pillow at night. But as your pregnancy progressed, so did his paranoia, turning him into an almost comical shadow of your once-confident, battle-hardened husband.
It began with the shoelaces.
“Wait, wait, wait.” He practically skidded across the living room to kneel at your feet just as you were about to bend down to tie your sneakers. You straightened up, raising a brow, watching him fumble with the laces like it was a complex puzzle rather than a simple bow.
“Bucky, it’s just tying my shoes. I can do that,” you pointed out gently, but he shook his head fervently.
“Not risking it. What if you lose your balance?” His words were muffled as he double-knotted the laces, his shoulders hunched like he was shielding you from some invisible force.
“I’m not gonna lose my balance,” you murmured, amused. “I’ve been tying my own shoes for decades.”
“There’s a first for everything.” He tightened the bow a little too firmly, making you flinch. He winced in apology and adjusted it again, softer this time, before peering up at you with those intense blue eyes, a mix of worry and resolve. “Humor me, okay?”
You sighed, relenting with a small nod. “Okay. But just so you know, you’re not going to be doing this every single time.”
He grinned—victorious, as if you hadn’t noticed how he conveniently “lost” all your slip-ons just last week.
Then there was the laundry basket incident.
It happened when you were carrying a half-full basket of towels from the dryer. You’d barely made it halfway down the hall when Bucky materialized out of nowhere, intercepting you like you were carrying live explosives.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was all mock-seriousness, but there was genuine concern underlining it as he gently pried the basket from your hands.
“Laundry?” you deadpanned, trying to tug it back, but he held firm.
“Not anymore, you’re not.” He shot you a look that dared you to argue as he held the basket up high, well out of your reach. “You don’t need to be lugging this around.”
“It’s not even heavy!” you protested, exasperation seeping into your tone.
He scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it. Just point me to where you want it.”
Grumbling, you pointed down the hallway. “Our bedroom.”
“See?” he said with a self-satisfied smile, striding down the hall like he was conquering new territory. “No big deal.”
You had to fight back an eye roll. “You’re gonna be like this until the baby is born, aren’t you?”
“Probably,” he called over his shoulder, unashamed.
It didn’t stop there, of course. In the kitchen, he’d barely let you near the sink.
One morning, you’d decided to tackle the breakfast dishes—something you could usually manage without too much hassle. But as soon as you set the first dish into the soapy water, Bucky’s hand appeared out of nowhere, lightly shoving you to the side.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission. “Your belly’s gonna bump into the counter. Let me do it.”
“Bucky—”
“Let. Me. Do it,” he insisted, holding a soapy plate hostage as he gazed at you, lips set in a stubborn line.
With a sigh, you threw your hands up in surrender. “Fine. But I’m not a porcelain doll, okay? I can do dishes just fine.”
“Sure,” he replied, but he was already washing the dishes with focused precision, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you hadn’t slipped or stumbled in the two feet he’d moved you back.
It was both infuriating and endearing, and it made you love him even more—though you’d never admit it when he was acting like a hovering mother hen.
The grocery trips were almost unbearable. He’d insisted on coming along, despite your reassurances that you were perfectly capable of picking up a few items.
“We need milk,” you pointed out, motioning toward the far end of the aisle.
“Got it,” he said immediately, guiding the cart forward with one hand and slipping his other arm around your waist as if to support your entire body weight.
You shot him a look. “I can still walk, you know.”
“Of course you can,” he agreed with a grin. “I’m just… helping you waddle.”
“Waddle?” You narrowed your eyes, smacking his arm lightly. “Did you just call me a waddler?”
“Um…” He glanced at you sheepishly, realizing his mistake a second too late. “No?”
“Yeah, nice try.” You huffed, crossing your arms.
“Alright, alright, bad choice of words. I’m just keeping pace with you,” he corrected, slowing his stride even more so that the two of you were practically moving in slow motion down the aisle.
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all. “If we go any slower, we’ll start moving backwards.”
Bucky just chuckled, his arm tightening around you protectively. “I’ll take my chances.”
By the time you reached the milk, you were almost tempted to ask him to sprint the rest of the way just to get it over with. But the truth was, there was something undeniably sweet about having Bucky hover around like this.
“Let me guess,” you teased as you plucked a carton of milk off the shelf. “You want to carry this too?”
“Of course,” he said, already reaching for it, his expression deadly serious.
You held on to the carton just long enough to make him sweat before handing it over. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Unbelievably in love with you,” he replied easily, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.
“Smooth,” you muttered, your lips twitching into a reluctant smile.
With Bucky being his overprotective self, you had no doubt that he’d be like this for the next few months—and likely long after the baby was born. But as much as you complained, deep down, you knew you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
× × × ×
“Bucky, for the last time, it’s just a shoe box,” you emphasise, glancing at your husband as he carefully hoists the empty box off the couch like it’s made of glass.
“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, eyes darting suspiciously to the plain cardboard. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything in your condition.”
“Condition? Bucky, I’m pregnant, not broken.” You cross your arms, watching as he tucks the box under his arm like it’s a rare artefact. The man is a walking, talking fortress of muscle, but right now, his overprotectiveness is reaching absurd levels.
“And nearly at your due date,” he points out, placing the box on the counter with a sigh of relief as if he’s saved you from imminent danger. “I’ve read all the books. I know how this goes.”
You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, yeah? So what’s the worst that could happen if I pick up a shoe box?”
Bucky turns to you with a dead-serious expression. 
“It’s not about the weight. It’s about…” he falters, eyes scanning your swollen belly, “…stability. Your centre of gravity is off right now. A box could trip you.”
“A box could trip me?” You arch a brow, incredulous. “Really?”
“Yes!” His tone is insistent, and you have to bite back a laugh. This is the same man who once told a pack of HYDRA agents they were outnumbered—just because it was him and Steve versus a dozen of them. But now, he’s reduced to eyeing an empty cardboard box like it’s a mortal enemy.
Sighing, you sit back on the couch, deciding it’s not worth the argument. Besides, there’s a certain charm in seeing the Winter Soldier so worked up over an inanimate object. You lean back, letting out a small groan as you shift your weight.
Bucky’s been hovering around you all day like a lost puppy, eyes following your every move. The moment you make the slightest sound, his head whips around, concern flickering in his eyes. So when you groan, immediately, he’s by your side, eyes wide, hands hovering over your belly.
“What? What’s wrong? Is it time? Should I get the bag?”
“Calm down, Dad-mode. I’m just stretching.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’ve gotta stop panicking every time I make a sound.”
“Every time you make a sound, it could be something serious!” Bucky exclaims, sounding almost affronted. “Do you know what it’s like hearing you groan and not knowing if it’s ‘I want ice cream’ or ‘I’m about to go into labor’?”
“Sounds like a personal problem,” you tease.
He huffs, muttering something about ‘pregnancy hormones,’ and kneels down in front of you. Strong hands lift your foot gently, and he starts massaging your arch. You sigh, instantly melting under his touch.
“Better?” His voice is softer now, concern etched in every syllable.
“Much better,” you mumble, letting out a little moan as he presses down on a particularly tight knot.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Bucky freezes, eyes wide again. “What’s that? Pain?”
“Relax,” you say, though your voice is slightly breathless. “It’s the good kind of pain. Keep going.”
You lean your head back, closing your eyes as Bucky continues the foot massage. The man has hands that could crush stone, but right now, he’s so gentle you almost feel like you’re floating. It’s hard not to feel a little spoiled under his doting care.
But just when you’re getting lost in the bliss of his hands working away the tension, you catch his face out of the corner of your eye. Bucky’s brow is furrowed, and his expression is one of fierce concentration, like he’s facing down a particularly difficult opponent. You stifle a giggle—only Bucky could make a foot massage seem like a high-stakes mission.
“Alright, alright, enough of that,” you say, reaching down to tug on his hand. “If you keep looking at my foot like that, you might set it on fire.”
Bucky blinks up at you, clearly having forgotten where he was. He chuckles, the sound low and almost shy. “Can’t help it. I just… I want to make sure I’m doing it right.”
“Bucky, it’s a foot massage, not defusing a bomb.” You roll your eyes again, but your heart swells at his concern. “You’re doing it perfectly.”
A faint blush colors his cheeks, but he lets out a small huff, pretending to be grumpy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Then, without warning, he shifts beside you on the couch, a determined look settling on his face. “Now, hold still.”
Before you can ask what he’s up to, Bucky leans down, pressing his ear gently against your belly. You’re about to ask him if he’s comfortable, but the sheer look of wonder on his face stops you short. His eyes close, and he inhales deeply, as if trying to capture every little movement your baby girl makes.
“Hey, there, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs softly, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. His fingers splay across your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. “It’s your dad. Just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re being good for your mama.”
You bite your lip, warmth spreading through your chest at the sight. The fierce Winter Soldier, the man with a list of enemies longer than most people’s grocery lists, reduced to talking softly to your baby girl like she’s the most delicate thing in the world.
“She’s probably plotting her escape already,” you joke quietly, and Bucky grins up at you.
“Nah,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’s too busy practicing her karate kicks. Isn’t that right, little one?”
Right on cue, a small flutter against your belly answers him, and Bucky’s eyes light up like fireworks. He leans down again, pressing his lips gently against the spot where your baby kicked.
“Whoa, easy there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Save the punches for when you’re out here. We’ve got plenty of training sessions ahead of us.”
You snort, shaking your head at his words. “Bucky, she’s not even born yet, and you’re already planning training sessions?”
“Gotta start ‘em young,” he says seriously, but the way he softens his voice when he turns back to your belly is anything but tough. “But don’t worry, we’ll take it easy. I’ll make sure you get to be a kid and have fun first. No one’s gonna mess with you. Not when I’m around.”
He pauses, his eyes misting over for a brief moment, and you know he’s thinking about everything he’s been through—everything he wants to shield your daughter from. Slowly, he rubs his thumb along your belly again, his touch featherlight.
“And you’re gonna love your mama,” Bucky continues softly. “She’s strong, and she’s funny, and—” He glances up at you, his smile turning mischievous. “She’s a little bit stubborn sometimes. But you’re gonna be just like her, I bet.”
“Great,” you mutter, faking a groan. “Two of you plotting against me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bucky promises, but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll spoil his little girl.
He shifts again, his head still resting on your belly, and you have to stifle another laugh as he starts a running commentary, complete with exaggerated gestures.
“Okay, so here’s the plan,” he whispers conspiratorially to your baby. “When you get here, you’re gonna kick a lot. Cry a lot. But not too much. Your mama needs her sleep. Then, we’ll team up to get you extra dessert when she’s not looking.”
“Bucky!” You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. “You can’t be plotting behind my back already!”
He grins, looking up at you with mock innocence. “Hey, it’s not my fault if she wants ice cream. Right, sweetheart?”
A few more soft kicks seem to echo his words, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
“I’m doomed,” you say, shaking your head fondly.
“No, you’re not,” Bucky murmurs, his voice softening again. He presses one more kiss against your belly before shifting to sit up beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you gently against his side. “You’re gonna be the best mom. And I’m gonna be right here, making sure you both have everything you need.”
You lean into his warmth, smiling as his hand drifts back to your belly, tracing idle patterns.
“I love you,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.
“And I love you,” he replies, voice deep and steady. He leans down, kissing the top of your head. “Both of you.”
With Bucky holding you close and whispering to your daughter, you feel your heart swell with a contentment so strong it almost aches. It’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are to have this overprotective, sweet man by your side.
Even if he does go overboard sometimes.
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beloveds-embrace · 1 month ago
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noona. noon. any angsty thoughts to share for the duke au? 👁️ (i’m craving angst sorry)
Original post
I DO!! Angst version of the au would be if you weren’t welcomed at all. Sure, no one is being flat out rude to you, no one is actively sabotaging you and John doesn’t hit or force you into anything.
But it’s lonely.
The maids barely touch you, as if disgusted they have to help and tend to the woman their Duke needed to and not wanted to marry, and the butlers are the same. Especially the head butler Garrick. You still don’t know his first name and he doesn’t seem inclined to tell you.
During the dinner… nights with John, you’ve started noticing that your food isn’t quite as well done as his? Less decorated, occasionally burnt or not cooked well, but you don’t want to cause any trouble so you remain silent and John never asks why you seem to eat so little.
You do also meet Duke Riley, the man that John is said to have an incredibly close friendship with, something born during his time servicing the kingdom. You’ve heard so much about him, from bad to good, and you wonder how he actually is.
In the end, you wish you hadn’t met him, too. The humiliation of being flat-out ignored in your own home while he speaks amicably with John…
So yes. Life as Duchess Price isn’t a happy one, but you are just glad you aren’t physically hurting.
But you do find solace in the only kindness your parents had bothered to show you before they gave you away; your personal knight, König. He is the only one to not treat you as such. He is the only one you can confide in, feel just a little bit of happiness and friendship with even if you haven’t even seen his face yet.
“I’m so tired,” you whisper to him one night, under the blanket of the night sky. You’d thrown a simple shawl over your shoulders, and hadn’t questioned it when he fell in steps behind you, always a protective shadow. Today had been hard. You had also decided to no longer dine with John, not too excited about the lackluster food and the stilted conversations. Cold maids, lonely night… you ached for something more.
You take in a shuddering breath, wrapping the shawl tighter around yourself. Konig stands right beside the bench you are sitting on, a familiar and comforting sight and presence. But tonight, it’s not enough. “I’m so tired, König.” You repeat, your voice cracking.
König simply stares at you for a while; you are used to it, used to everything about him. The mask, the accent, the unyielding body that is always keeping you safe. The quiet congestions you have had, during the days you lock yourself away in your office to ignore the loneliness and sadness plaguing you.
You aren’t used to seeing König bend down in front of you, holding his hands out until you place them in his. Familiar pale eyes peer up at you. Proper etiquette doesn’t matter to you in this moment; who will chastise you for the lack of it when this entire duchy holds only the most basic form of respect for you?
Even if they did, you would not let go of König, your confidant. Your knight.
“…What do you need, mylady?”
After a silent moment, you take in a deep breath and look back at him. “…I want… someone who loves me enough to be kind towards me. I want someone who loves me.”
König nods his head. With bated breath, you watch silently as he brings your hands forward, under his mask, to kiss each knuckle on your hands.
“I am your knight, mylady. I am your sword, and your shield. I, too, can be your lover if that is what you want, mylady. Whatever you desire, it is my duty to provide.” König breathes out against your skin, eyes not once flicking away, words not once breaking. He is fully devoted in his decision. “Will you allow me, mylady? The decision is your, always has been. I cannot take you away from this horrible place-“ not yet. “-but I can give you my love and devotion, just as I’ve always done. Will you allow me, mylady?”
And after everything you’ve been through, all the pain and loneliness and exclusion- you can’t say no.
“…Yes, König.”
(By the time John begins to realize that he may have misjudged you, once you find out the truth, it is already far too late for mending any bridges. There is no particular feeling when you look at him, or any of his men. You only ask that no one bothers your time alone with your shadow, your knight. It’s far too late for anything.)
Part 2 + dukedom au masterlist
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chobunz · 2 months ago
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── jay’s body. ( pjs ) 🔪
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๑ A string of gruesome murders have been plaguing your small town with fear, there hasn’t been many leads on who this unnamed killer could be but never in a million years would you suspect that it was someone you were so close to…
pair/genre: popular jock!jay ㅊ nerdy!f!reader, dead dove do not eat, college au, jennifer’s body au | warnings: horror, pwp, angst, smut, humor/dark jokes, set in the late 2000’s, jay is your childhood best friend, yandere/incubus!jay, mentions of depression/anxiety, childhood trauma, graphic descriptions of death and violence, gore, cheating, manipulation tactics, dub-con, virginity loss, d/s dynamics, piv, fingering, oral (m + f. rec), rough s.x, biting, slight knife play, unprotected s.x, breeding kink | words: 18.3k+ (holy shit i’m insane..)
**please heed ALL warnings before reading, i am not responsible for the content you consume !!
[ song inspo: mascara, do you believe, & cherry waves by deftones ]
this is a really long one compared to all of my other fics ! i’m happy with the outcome of this so i hope you all like it !! i poured way too much time and effort into this writing so reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <33 big thank you to the loml @p4ranormaluv for beta-ing my fic, ilysm muahh
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“you should come.” jay’s figure hovered over your desk, his face so unbearably close to yours that one wrong move could lead to both of your lips accidentally colliding. “please y/n? it’ll be fun, i promise !” his former pout returns to guilt trip you even further.
you stood your ground and shook your head, leaning back into the chair for more breathing room. this wasn’t something out of the ordinary for him, jay constantly invaded your personal space, never believing in boundaries when it came to you— and he’d get even more obnoxious by persistently asking to hang outside of classes.
“no jay, i already told you before that i have homework to do..” you remind him yet again for the umpteenth thousand time, as if he didn’t already know that, not bothering to put much thought into considering his dumb little offer.
for the past hour or so he’s been bugging you about going to some dive bar downtown with him. it seems a lot of people were attending since a locally known indie girl band, ‘sweet venom’, is going to be performing there tonight. jay would always rave about their music once he discovered them on myspace, growing quite the infatuation with the lead singer in particular. you really weren’t all that interested in going, you weren’t even a fan, plus you had way more important things to worry about. and besides, concerts weren’t your thing anyway, you’ve always hated large crowds— gives you an inducing amount of anxiety.
“ugh, why’re you so lamee, it’s like you’re allergic to fun..” he whines, dragging out his words which only made him sound even more immature. he’d never miss a beat to poke fun at you for being such a goody two shoes. “we’re not getting any younger y/n, keep going at this rate and you’re bound to end up an old, shriveled up cat lady who’s gonna die a miserable virgin !”
his snarky comments about your dry sex life didn’t phase you as much as they used to, but after a while you do get sick of hearing them all the time. to be frank, you aren’t even sure why you and jay were still such close friends, maybe it’s because of the deep rooted history you two share, dating all the way back to when you were in kindergarten; or simply could be the fact that no matter what, jay refused to never leave your side— ever.
you’ve had one too many disagreements and blown out of proportion arguments with him over the years, yet he’s never held any of those things against you, it’s practically a clean slate the next day. you’ll never understand why he’s so adamant on keeping this friendship alive when you’re just so vastly different from each other. he’s athletic, outgoing, extremely popular amongst his peers— and especially with women, of course.
jay will never admit it out loud, but he’s always enjoyed being the center of attention, not to mention he was blessed with a well above average face that he used to his advantage quite a bit. he’d often came off as pretty arrogant and crude to most people, he honestly had no filter when it came to voicing his own opinions; but that was the allure of him, made his charm even more magnetic to the dozens of girls who’d fawn over him on a daily basis. he acted as though all eyes weren’t on him, yet he secretly relished it. if he wasn’t stroking his own ego, best believe there’d be someone who would.
you glare at him, wishing he’d just shut up already and go bother someone else for a change, but you know that’ll never happen in this lifetime. “i’m actually in a very loving and committed relationship.. so i rebuke that statement, thank you very much !” you quickly fire back, gathering your textbooks and other supplies, shoving them into the compartments of your black messenger bag.
“soo, i’m guessing mark’s dick isn’t really all that satisfying enough for you ? ‘cause you still act hella cranky all the time… must not be that good,” jay couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, deciding to further agitate you. “oh, who am i kidding.. you probably haven’t even let that bastard kiss you yet.”
if you weren’t so mentally drained from the 6 hours you’ve just endured of back to back classes, you’d be beating his ass to a pulp right here and now. “we’re taking things slow !” you defend yourself once more, lifting from the chair as you’re about to head out the door, to which jay follows behind to continue his rampant taunting spree.
“it’s been 6 months y/n, how much more ‘slow’ can you take it ?” a group of girls wave at him as you walked through the corridor, but he ignores it and keeps walking like the pretentious asshole he is. “bet the dude gets blue balls everytime he sees you.”
you stopped dead in your tracks for a second, turning around to face him only to be met with a smug grin settled on his lips. the fact he gets such a kick out of constantly teasing you made it all the more aggravating, but eventually you caved in, as per usual.
“ugh, fine.. what time is it ?” you inquire, watching how he instantly lit up at your question. you knew he would’ve been moping and complaining for the rest of the day if you didn’t go with him. anything to get him to finally shut up..
“it starts at 9 but i’ll pick you up at 8:30 !” jay caged his arm around your waist, pulling you into a half hug. “oh, and make sure to wear something good.” he quickly adds.
“um.. i always wear good clothes ??” a scoff leaves your lips, slightly offended by his critique of your clothing choices.
“really ?” he spoke sarcastically, eyeing the oversized crewneck sweatshirt you wore with cats printed all over, “this isn’t middle school anymore, it wouldn’t kill you to show a little bit of cleavage once in a while.”
you flat out ignore his comments. not even wanting to entertain his bullshit anymore, if anything it would only lead to a petty argument that’ll sour your mood for the whole day. you’ve learned the hard way that sometimes— well most of the time, letting jay say whatever he wants was the best option, which is why he always gets away with it. he’s always been the more domineering one of the friendship, whilst you just sat back and let his menacing behavior go unchecked. you hated that you were such a pushover when it came to him but you’d rather just let it go than have a full blown argument that could potentially lead to him having an irrational outburst.
“i gotta go find mark, i’ll see ya later.” your mind shifts back to thinking about your boyfriend who was most likely waiting for you out in the courtyard.
“ew, whatever bye.” a look of faux disgust bestowed on jay’s features, there was no inherent issue he had with mark— just didn’t really like the guy. he felt as though he was slowly being replaced by him, which is why he latched onto you even more than ever.
once you said your final goodbyes and parted ways, you head down a long flight of stairs to go search for your boyfriend. eventually catching him off in the distance as he’s sat on a bench outside, immediately going up to hug him.
“hey babe,” mark happily greets as you embraced him, embedding a kiss to your cheek, “missed you.”
“hey, sorry i showed up kinda late.. got a little sidetracked on my way to you,” you make up a quick lie as you don’t wanna fully admit that jay was the reason for your semi-tardiness.
“got any plans tonight pretty lady ?” he asks with his arm looped around your shoulder as you sat beside him, he was hoping to spend more time with you since you’ve been so cooped up in the library studying for upcoming exams.
“well… yeah, kinda. i’m going to this concert thingy with jay tonight.” there you go, not even a minute in of seeing your boyfriend you’re already bringing him up. it’s always jay, jay, jay— this was really beginning to irritate him.
“oh..” he sighs, visibly tensing up every time he hears that dreaded name slip from your mouth. he knew this was how it usually went down, whenever he asks to spend time with you somehow jay would always beat him to it. mark truly felt like your so called ‘best friend’ was the main perpetrator of sabotaging this relationship.
“we can still hang out for a bit before that !” you suggest, attempting to try and lighten the atmosphere, but mark still wasn’t too thrilled to hear that you were going to be with jay for the whole night instead of him.
you know that mark never really liked jay, and jay also never really liked mark either. it was an odd, unspoken tension between the two but you couldn’t quite seem to put your finger on how or why it all started. mark was more adjacent to your personality, you’re both bookworms, lovers of all things pertaining to math and science, and you lived in the same honor’s apartment complex, which only housed the smartest students of the whole university. jay however… he was a spitting image of everything you strived not to be. rebellious, put very minimal if at all any effort into his studies, was borderline narcissistic, and easily irritable around others. it was like a ticking time bomb with him, you never knew exactly when he’d go off.
“yeah only for like two hours..” mark sulked in discontent, sinking lower into the seat. “you always do whatever jay tells you to do, it’s like you don’t have a mind of your own sometimes.. feels like you enjoy being with jay more than me..”
“that’s not true !” you fire back, “he’s my best friend.. that’s it. you know you mean the world to me,” you anxiously express, fidgeting with the silver, heart-shaped friendship necklace that you and jay both had since elementary school. “my roommate should be gone, i have the whole place to myself, come !” quickly, you grab his hand to lead the way back to your place.
“agh.. okay, better be lucky that you’re cute..” mark jokingly adds, letting you pull him away to the next destination.
๑ ๑ ๑
“so.. which one is he stalking online again ?” mark asks out of curiosity, comfortably sat on top of your bed, referring to jay’s new obsession with this girl band.
“the lead singer of this band, he said she’s like ‘100% his type’ or something, i dunno.” you said nonchalantly, skimming through your wardrobe in hopes of finding an outfit that jay would approve of, you couldn’t dress too revealing as it would only attract unwanted attention from random creeps, but you also didn’t want to present as too “modest” as you’ll only get teased even more than you already were by your best friend.
“huh.. interesting..” he slightly nods, reaching over to play with one of your stuffed bears that you’ve had since childhood. “i still don’t get why he couldn’t just go with someone else or by himself. he doesn’t need you there..”
you don’t answer, instead you were too preoccupied with trying on various tops, unsatisfied with most until you find a dark purple top that was a bit more form fitting. it showed your midriff just a little bit but it wasn’t too much that it would deem as “slutty”, at least in your humble book of opinions. checking yourself out in the vanity mirror to see how you look, you paired the top with some light wash flared jeans that you bought recently while out at the mall with jay.
you weren’t too keen on buying them at first but he’d convinced you to get them anyway. standing in front of your reflection, you barely recognized yourself. you don’t normally wear these types of styles but according to jay, you have to wear ‘good clothes’ so you kind of felt obligated to. finishing off the look, you took off your glasses, replacing them with contacts that you rarely wore, you’ve always hated that you struggled to put them in but it wasn’t so bad this time around.
“um, do you really have to wear such low rise jeans..? i can see your womb for pete’s sake !” mark sounded reminiscent of an overbearing dad the way he voiced his concerns, it was safe to say that he was definitely not a fan of this new look you were going for.
you playfully brushed him off, “quit being so dramatic, you’re just not used to seeing me like this is all !” you giggle at his overprotective nature, suddenly hearing a loud knock at your door from downstairs, “oh- that must be jay !”
you hummed a soft tune as you make your way down the stairs, swinging the door open to your best friend who’s grinning ear to ear, throwing your arms around his shoulders to embrace him in a hug.
“i see you actually took my advice,” jay says proudly, staring down your whole body as he examines your outfit, “we good to go ?” he asks, looking effortlessly cool in a pair of ripped black jeans and a white graphic tee that he bought from spencer’s.
“yup, i think so !” you nod in content, quickly grabbing your high-top converse that laid on the floor, they were a little beat up and had doodles all over them all because jay got bored one day and decided to scribble on the shoes without your knowledge. it added more character to them you suppose…
“i’d really appreciate if you stopped kidnapping my girlfriend all the time.” mark grumbles in annoyance, heading downstairs to kiss you goodbye. he possessively grabs ahold of your waist to show jay that he wasn’t the only man in your life that you adored— he hated that this has now become an unfriendly competition of who could gain your attention more.
jay scoffs, paying him little to no mind. “it isn’t kidnapping if she’s willingly going on her own accord, right ?” he said in his usual cocky tone, mark was getting more agitated by the second, if this were an animation, steam would’ve definitely been blowing out of his ears right now.
“listen dipshit i’ve had—”
“ok knock it off you two, enough !” you cut your boyfriend off before he could go any further, “you guys really need to stop, seriously..”
jay’s demeanor softens the minute he hears your voice, as if you’ve snapped him out of a trance, “he’s just jelly ‘cause he’s not invited, let’s go.” he links arms with yours whilst heading out the door, faintly hearing the jingle of his car keys clashing together as he swung them around with his free hand.
a part of you feels like you’ve created this whole mess between them, you’ve noticed this mini rivalry ever since you began dating mark. jay has never been one to give newcomers the warmest of welcomes, he’s constantly had this protective and territorial nature towards you, was just how he is. though sometimes, he’d take things a step too far. whenever he feels like you’re slowly drifting apart from him, he does everything in his power to drive a wedge between you and the other existing person. you and jay have always been a tight knit duo— a packaged deal if you will; and he isn’t too fond of other’s being added into the mix, he’d try convincing you that all you needed was each other— no one else ever mattered.
that was until you met your boyfriend mark of course, jay rarely ever conversed with him nor was he ever all that kind to him, but you managed to still work things out regardless of your best friend’s disapproval. in more blunt terms, you don’t think jay would’ve approved of anyone you date, he was harder to please than your own father and that in itself spoke volumes… on the contrary, you wouldn’t have much of an issue if jay were to magically show up with a girlfriend one day, but within these past two decades of knowing him you’ve never seen him date a single soul, he could literally have any girl he wanted, hell, they were practically lining up to even be near him. yet he didn’t bother giving one of them the time of day, he preferred his own solitude; except when he’s around you, that is.
๑ ๑ ๑
you had no idea what to anticipate when arriving to this place, but soon as you and jay walked into the establishment, you were invited with a completely different atmosphere than you expected. the way jay kept talking about this place you’d assume it’d be more of a nightclub ambiance but it was more or less like your average, run-of-the-mill bar where everyone went to watch the sports game on the weekend. sure there were a lot of people here but it just wasn’t the overall kind of vibe you mesh with. from it’s dingy, beer stained walls, to the generic pop music that blared through the speakers, there was a pool table in the corner occupied by a bunch of frat boys you recognized from school. your eyes landed on your past crush heeseung, who you never confessed to but still silently admired from afar to this day. you thought he was way out of your league, plus he was already dating someone else which made you harbor those secrets even deeper.
you sat at an empty booth, flipping open your phone to text mark who’s been asking nonstop if everything’s okay, though you’ve told him multiple times not to worry. there were a few girls who tried talking to jay but he seemed quite unamused by them, his mission was to talk to this band that he was fangirling over, you’ve never seen him this excited over anything.
“come with me,” jay suddenly pulls you out of your seat, making you go towards the front of the stage with him. he was smiling like an idiot, walking up to them confidently as he always did. there were a total of 5 women, all dressed in various types of leather and spikes, black filled their waterlines to look more edgy, their teased hair stayed in place with the shit ton of hairspray they used— pretty much your stereotypical rock band aesthetic. whether it was intentional or not, you didn’t know, but they definitely didn’t seem like the approachable type.
jay makes the first move, introducing himself along with your presence. “hi, i’m jay and this is my best friend y/n, i’m a huge fan of you guys ! i’m surprised you came out all the way here, aren’t you from the city ?” he sounded like such a groupie, you never took him as someone to kiss up to others, but there’s a first time for everything you suppose.
a woman with fluorescent pink hair spoke, you assumed it was the lead singer of the band since she held a microphone in her hand, “nice to meet you, i’m scarlett, but you can call me scar. yeah.. we’re a bit far out but we like to connect with fans all over, gotta start somewhere y’know?” jay nods, looking at her as if she held the key to a world he’s never seen before.
“can i buy you a drink ? the options are pretty slim but there’s these red and blue drinks that i think are kinda good. gotta drink ‘em fast though or else they turn this weird brownish color…” jay asks, hoping to give off the impression he’s older than he actually is.
“sure, thanks.” she replied, winking at him as she prepares to set up for the performance.
“great, i’ll be back right !” he turns around in a flash, tagging you along with him for the journey.
“uh, jay we aren’t over 21 yet..” you remind him, confused as how he was going to even pull this off, but he shuts down your doubtful attitude.
“i think you underestimate just how easily i can get anyone to do anything for me y/n.” he makes his way over to the bar with a confident stride, not even sweating the fact he may or may not be denied.
as jay was busy getting the drinks you overheard the lead singer, scarlett aka scar, talking to the bassist, you couldn’t help but get closer to eavesdrop on their conversation once you heard your best friend’s name being dropped mid convo.
“yeah that guy’s definitely a virgin, he talks big game but i know he doesn’t get girls..” she giggles to them. your brows furrowed in slight confusion and anger, not only was he being overly friendly with them but they were taking his kindness as a sign of weakness.
“hey that’s my friend you’re talking about, bitch !” you intervened, quickly coming to his defense, “whether he is one or not, it’s none of your damn business and he’s sure as hell not going to sleep with some washed up skanks like you.” you couldn’t believe those words even came out your mouth, but when it came to jay, you weren’t just going to sit back and let them talk about him like that.
��what’s going on ?” jay interrupts, coming back with the drinks as he noticed a sudden shift in your behavior.
“they were just talking about you !” you point over to the girls, still fuming with rage, “they said you were a virgin !”
“oh.. i mean does getting sucked off in the locker rooms by half the cheer team count ??” he jokes, snickering to himself when he remembers that moment.
you face palm, “that’s not the point, jay !” you were genuinely getting upset, why would it even matter if he was one or not ? why were they so hung up on knowing that to begin with ?
before you could say anything else or speculate any further, the lights suddenly dimmed, and the band introduces themselves to the crowd that was formed around you. scar went on a whole spiel about how they’re so grateful to be here and saying how they hope to bring more fans with this performance, they were promoting their new single, ‘bloody roses’ which you thought was a pretty corny and cliché title but nonetheless you were only here in support of your friend.
as the band started playing their first song, everyone began head banging to the music, including jay who was more than excited to be here. maybe it was because of the previous encounter you just had with them, but the music wasn’t necessarily hitting for you. it wasn’t the genre per se, you enjoyed bands such as hole, nirvana, and metallica, but they just seemed like complete rip offs of those said bands. it seemed like you were the only one who thought this way considering everyone else was vibing around you— especially jay who was singing along to every lyric word for word. you seriously couldn’t wait for this night to be over with..
not even ten minutes later, you heard a blood curdling scream off in the distance. your body stilled with uncertainty, wondering what could’ve possibly triggered such harrowing emotions, yet that was soon dissolved once you saw the burst of flames invading your vision. a rush of panic kicks in as you finally register what exactly was going on and the only thing on your mind was to get the hell out of here. everyone else had the same idea as you, bodies scrambling left and right, hurriedly trying to find an entry to freedom. you checked to see if jay was following behind you still but he wasn’t, he was gone. and so was the band.
you shouted his name as loud as you could, eyes becoming bleary whilst trying to find the nearest exit, pushing all the other attendees out of the way as the only thing you cared about in this moment was getting to safety and finding jay. you remembered that the bathrooms had a small window so you made a mad dash to the stalls, praying to god that you’d be able to fit through.
surprisingly there was no one else there, grabbing a step stool from the corner to help you climb up and ease your way out. profusely coughing from the smoke that lingered underneath the door, you use all your strength to pry the window open, body running solely off adrenaline. relief washes over you when you’re able to successfully get it to crack just enough to squeeze your body through, gasping for oxygen once you’re finally met with the outside world again.
you looked back and see that the entire bar is now ablaze– with people still inside. you watched as parts of the building collapsed, crumbling to the ground as more people were coming out. you’ve never witnessed anything more horrifying, hearing the cries of others shouting for help as they were locked in with no way out. some were so badly burned that they looked unrecognizable, their scorched skin bubbling from the third degree burns. you couldn’t bear to see such chaos but you couldn’t look away. this sight was going to be engrained into your memory for the rest of your life..
anxiety struck through you when you realize jay was still nowhere to be seen, you still had your cellphone in your pocket which you debated on calling 911, but you assumed they’d already be on the way with paramedics. you were surprised to have even made it out alive, but you hoped to god that jay was also able to escape the inferno. when an arm reaches out to suddenly grab your wrist, your first reaction was to scream loudly. still suffering from the shock of what you just experienced.
“chill the fuck out, it’s just me y/n!” you instantly recognized jay’s voice, turning around to face him. you couldn’t believe it was really him, completely unscathed just like you. you immediately wrap your arms around him, holding him tighter than ever before. you’d be able to rest easy now knowing that you two were perfectly okay.
“i was looking for you, had me worried sick !” your eyes brimmed with tears again, but it was more so tears of happiness. you wouldn’t know what you’d do if you didn’t have your best friend with you anymore.
“i’m sorry… we should’ve stuck together. i didn’t mean to abandon you..” he didn’t sound like his usual self, this time he was more frantic, just as much in shock as you were.
“oh thank god you two are alright !” scar, the singer of that shitty band runs up to the both of you, “you guy’s should come back to my van, it’s safer there.” she proposes, helping you back up on your feet as you were too weak to do so on your own.
you shook your head at that idea. “no way, i’m getting out of here, come on jay!” you grab his hand but he doesn’t follow along.
“actually, i think i’m gonna go with them..” he says, letting go of your hand to head towards the van with the other girls.
“are you crazy ?!” you couldn’t believe he’d choose them over you, even if he was a huge fan, it still didn’t make sense for him to leave with them rather than his own damn best friend. you felt betrayed.
“look i’m in survival mode just as much as you right now, we gotta get going before anything else happens !” scarlett rushes to the driver’s side whilst the others hopped in the back along with jay, who seemed perfectly fine with getting in a vehicle with some random strangers he just met.
you’re steady calling after him but he doesn’t listen nor budge, simply watching as the van speeds off. knowing deep down in your gut that something awful was going to ensue…
๑ ๑ ๑
it’s been two painstakingly long hours and still no call or text from jay. the worry was only building up inside you. what if something bad really did happen ? what if he needed your help and you left him all alone to fend for himself ? the guilt was slowly starting to eat you up, consuming your already troubled mind. but then again, you thought you may be overthinking as you usually do. he was probably having the time of his life, probably even went to some after party with them. the betrayal of him leaving you still lingered in your thoughts. how could he have done this to you ? maybe he really was the selfish jerk that mark always painted him out to be. but maybe you were just as bad for letting him leave like that. you should’ve been more assertive, now you won’t be getting any sleep tonight until you know for sure that jay will be fine.
you decide to call mark, needing to get all of this off your chest before you drove yourself anymore mentally insane than you already are. he picked up on the last ring, assuming that he was most likely asleep by now.
“hello ?” the sound of his sleepy voice gave you a sense of comfort, which is exactly what you needed at this time.
“hey..” you spoke softly, unsure of what to even say right now. you didn’t want to say anything straight away, you had to lean in towards that kind of conversation first.
“how was the concert ?” he asks, yawning as he kept talking.
you paused for a second, knowing that you’ll worry him the minute you finally express what happened hours ago. “there was a fire...”
“what ?!” there was absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared him for that, now he’s the one in full-blown panic mode.
“yeah..” was all you said in return, still trying to wrap your head around everything. the mental image of all those people still trapped inside, unknowing of their indefinite fate will forever stick with you.
“holy fuck.. you’re okay, right ?!” you could hear his body shifting under the sheets as he fully woke up from hearing this tragic news. he would’ve never been able to forgive himself had you not survived, he’d spend all of eternity blaming himself for it.
“yeah.. i’m fine. there was a stampede, you could hear their bones breaking and people running out the building as they were still on fire.. i don’t even wanna know how many didn’t make it out..” you felt sick to your stomach, you should’ve done more to help but all you thought about was saving yourself, how selfish…
“fuck.. i’m so sorry you had to see that y/n, i’m just really glad that you were able to get out of there…”
“jay left with that band but i told him not to.. he hasn’t spoken to me since then and i’m really worried, we have to go save him !” you couldn’t shake this ominous feeling that something went horribly wrong, you had to trust your instincts on this one.
“who cares about jay ! people died !” mark was baffled by how you were still only thinking about him when the main person you should be worrying about is yourself.
he then proceeded to go on an endless tirade about how horrible of a friend jay is and that he knew he shouldn’t have let you go there with someone as untrustworthy as him. you just “okay” and “alright” your way out of everything he said, but you still had this deep inkling that you were right and you need to be there to rescue him. there was no real proof that he’d be in any danger, but something just seemed so off about that group as a whole..
that’s when you heard the sudden buzz of your doorbell, thinking it may just be your roommate who forgot her key, though it was quite late and you wouldn’t expect her to be coming back around at this time of night. you stilled in your bed, internally debating whether or not you should go down there to investigate; but you ultimately decide to do so anyway.
“shh, wait— mark i think i hear someone at the door...” you tell him as you hesitantly get up, putting on your bunny slippers and slipping on a robe before slowly creaking the door open.
“who is it?” he asks, just as confused as you were.
“i-i don’t know.. that’s what i’m trying to find out..” you whisper, heading into the hallway, producing quiet footsteps as you held onto the railing that lead downstairs.
the air around you felt suffocating, only met with a grim silence whilst putting one foot in front of the other. each step you took became increasingly more cautious, you had no idea why you were such a nervous wreck or why you thought there’d be an imminent threat lurking your way, but the way your heart was thudding rapidly out of your chest made your flight or fight senses fly off the radar.
finally making it to the door, you suck in a bated breath, swallowing the thick lump that sat in the back of your throat. your hands shakily curled around the shiny knob but the minute you open it you’re left feeling even more uneasy as there wasn’t anything nor anyone at your doorstep. just pitch black darkness greeting you, along with the chilling sound of trees rustling through the wind. a heavy, lingering fog accompanied the atmosphere, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine.
you were puzzled, feeling as though someone was playing a sick joke on you. you could’ve sworn you heard it, unless you really were going crazy after all. you knew that you were a little loose around the edges, but there’s no way that you could’ve made that up— it was far too realistic. soon as you were about to brush this whole thing off and chalk it up as just a freak accident, your ears detected faint shuffling, movement coming from a far distance. this time coming from inside the confines of your own home.
…what in the actual fuck is going on right now ?
“i just heard something from the kitchen..” you made sure to keep your voice low, mind and body riddled with the fear of the unknown as you clutched onto the phone harder than ever. you couldn’t see much of anything, but you followed whatever the hell was making all that commotion.
“don’t go near it ? what the fuck, that’s horror movie 101 knowledge. never go to the noise !” mark warns but you don’t take his advice, instead you slowly crept into the living room, remaining vigilant of every move you take.
the noise only grew louder and since you knew that your roommate wasn’t here, this only made your panic heighten, afraid that there may be a possible intruder. carefully stepping into the kitchen without making a sound, your hands scramble to find the switch, turning on the light to reveal the cause of your worry. the noise stopped the minute you were able to see again, and an instant sigh of relief leaves you once you notice it was just a leaky faucet, screwing the handle to shut it back in place. but that relief would soon deem itself short lived when you hear that same cacophony of sounds from earlier, again.
you spun around to see your fridge wide open, and someone actively rummaging through it. your body froze in place, simply unable to move no matter how hard you tried to relax your muscles. it was as if something were controlling you, telling you not to move an inch; like it was protecting you from whatever may be on the other side. scraps of food met the tiled floors, containers and cartons being tossed and thrown in a rampage. as the refrigerator finally came to a close, you were more than shocked to see that it was none other than jay, who’s covered in dried blood from head to toe.
“mark.. i’ll call you back i gotta go..” you muttered quickly to your boyfriend, feeling the need to tend to your friend who’s clearly not in the best of conditions right now.
“what?! no, don’t hang up y/n, please don-” you hang up on him before he could even finish. you were slowly able to regain your strength again, tiptoeing towards the boy who hasn’t even bothered to look up at you yet.
he looked more than unwell, as if he had just survived the most brutal attack of his life. his actions resembled nothing of a human, watching as he mindlessly consumed whatever he could find in his wake. he came across a pack of raw chicken that you’ve yet to open, savagely tearing through it, devouring the meat with his bare hands. you weren’t sure how to react to any of this, but you knew that he was exhibiting anything but normal behavior.
“what are you doing ?!” you finally broke the quietness that filled the room, but you were met with no response in return.
upon hearing your startled voice, he stopped eating and averts his gaze to you. his eyes were soulless, no emotion throughout him whatsoever, looking at you as if he’s never seen you before. instead of getting up he crawls over to you, still refusing to utter a single word. your lips part to speak again but you notice a shift in his odd aura, he began coughing in the most grotesque way possible, as if he were trying to get something to leave out of his body. that’s when he starts to profusely vomit, everywhere. it wasn’t just any normal vomit though, it was a black, spiny fluid, spread all over the tiles and even spilling onto your clothes.
“jay what the hell’s wrong with you ?!” you yell at him but it was no use. he was never going to answer you, it was like he was possessed by some kind of spirit.
he finally got up on his feet, never breaking eye contact with you, his dark pupils pierced through you like the sharp edge of a butcher knife. jay could smell the fear you emitted, it only made him want to gravitate towards you more. the only sane option that ran through your mind was to call the police, taking several steps backward from his presence, but of course he doesn’t let you do that. he only moves faster, pushing you up against the wall with superhuman aggression. he grabs ahold of your wrist tightly, forcing you to drop your phone, a loud thud produced as it made contact with the ground. he remained silent throughout the whole ordeal, flashing you an eerie smile, only a hairs breadth away from meeting your plush lips.
you whimpered in fear, but he keeps shushing you, petting the crown of your head like you were a crying, wounded animal in need. “are you scared?” he whispers into you ear, already knowing the answer to that. he only continues to taunt you, licking a long, slow paced stripe along the base of your neck, coating his saliva onto your soft, shivering skin.
he wouldn’t go any further than that, simply letting go of you and backing away as if he just now was able to acknowledge what he’s done. his breathing grew heavier, unable to even look at you, it felt as though he couldn’t control his own body anymore. before you could do anything, he swiftly heads out of the back door, leaving without a trace.
“jay !” you try to call after him, but to no avail, you were left all alone, traumatized for the second time of the night.
you’ve went through the five stages of grief all in under a minute, unsure of what to even do in this moment. you’re standing here, confused, overwhelmed, and mortified— but now there’s black vomit all over your kitchen floor and on yourself. you weeped again, hopelessly trying to piece together the fragments of what the fuck just happened moments ago.
๑ ๑ ๑
the next day everyone’s talking about the fire at school. many were mourning the losses of their precious loved ones, sobbing uncontrollably from the horrific events that occurred from the night before. you sat in physics class with jay, who acted as if nothing even happened last night, carrying on as he normally did. your professor mr. choi, took a moment to speak about what happened, mentioning the saddening news that took place not even 24 hours ago. what was even more odd was that jay was smirking the entire time, attempting to hold in his laughter as he heard the professor speak, you hit his arm in response of his apathy.
“this isn’t funny..” you scold him for being so insensitive, “people died, jay ! it’s all over the news, we even made it internationally…”
he rolls his eyes, “yeah, so? people die everyday y/n, they’re not special. i’ll give it a week max and i bet you no one will be talking about it anymore.”
how could he even say something like that ? especially knowing that he knew some of the people who passed away, your beloved peers who fought for their lives at the very last seconds of being alive. it was more than insensitive, it was just plain cruel.
“what’s wrong with you ?!” you looked at him as if he’s gone mad, which he quite literally has considering what took place at your apartment last night. you haven’t mentioned it to him yet but you were reluctant on doing so, he’d probably deny everything anyway.
“what’s wrong with you ?? god.. did someone piss in your cereal this morning?” he wasn’t even remotely phased by anything you were saying, if anything, he saw it as one big mockery.
you scoff in response, mumbling something under your breath as you listen to the professor continue on with his speech. you always knew jay was the type to never wear his emotions on his sleeve, but it really rubbed you the wrong way at how he didn’t seem to shed an ounce of care about any of the people who lost their lives so abruptly.
“stop talking to yourself, makes you look even more like a weirdo,” jay quickly comments, he was irritating you the more he kept talking. if you weren’t in this classroom right now, you’d be cursing him out and giving him hell to pay— but you simply kept your mouth shut for the time being. there’s a time and place for certain things..
your melancholy only worsened as the day went by, feeling this heavy, cinder block weight of depression carried on your shoulders. the more you thought of it, the more shitty you felt. anyone would have survivor’s guilt after what you’d gone through, but it only multiplied as it fully settled in, you felt guilty for even doing something as minuscule as breathing. you truly believed that you didn’t deserve to survive, that it should’ve be you in place of someone else… why didn’t you help anyone ?
once class was dismissed, you hurried up out of your seat to go meet up with your boyfriend. jay followed behind you like a lapdog of course, but you didn’t want to speak to him. you debated on confronting him about yesterday, though you decided not to as you weren’t even sure where to begin.. you’d like to think that this was all just some intense fever dream you had but you know it wasn’t.
you physically remember being there, in your kitchen, sobbing to yourself while cleaning up the mess that jay left. you couldn’t go back to sleep after that, not after the way he looked at you like that. vividly picturing the devil’s carved grin plastered on his face, like he was going to rip your heart out of your small body and eat you alive. if you’re being completely honest, you were more fearful of your own life in that moment than you were at the bar.
even if you did tell him what happened, there’s a slim chance he’d take any responsibility for his own actions. his pride would never let him. you remember when you were kids he’d always make you get into so much trouble with him, but the minute you two got caught he’d simply deny everything and pin it all on you. jay was always able to manipulate his way out of just about anything— sociopaths are quite charismatic. you’d often joke with him that he was one, to which he’d never deny or confirm. deep down you’d hope that your own best friend wasn’t, but those old memories gave you all the same reminiscing feelings you felt years ago. or maybe, you were just as demented as he is.. birds of a feather flock together, right ?
๑ ๑ ๑
jay would only become increasingly possessive as time went on. he’s always exhibited quite clingy behaviors but things only snowballed from the night at the bar and onwards. he’d constantly be blowing up your phone, texting you the weirdest, most cryptic shit at 4 in the morning; or if you didn’t respond fast enough for his liking, he’d call you over twenty times until you finally answered, not caring at all if you were with mark. he only made you feel more guilty if you expressed needing space, simply threatening to harm himself or make it seem as if it’d be your fault if something bad were to happen and you didn’t pick up the phone. you don’t know what’s gotten into him lately, but he surely hasn’t been acting like himself ever since he interacted with that band.
a month has flown by and you notice jay was starting to look paler than a ghost, the dark circles under his eyes made it seem as though he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep in months. he looked like death. as if his own flesh was eating him from the inside out. you thought maybe it could be due to stress of some kind, but it wasn’t humanly possible for him to change this drastically. he resembled nothing short of a sickly patient lying on their deathbed, awaiting the grim reaper to come knocking at their doorstep at any minute. he lost a lot of muscle mass as well, turning into a weaker, much more frail version of himself. it truly pained you to see him in such a state, how sunken in his face was, gaunt like a skeleton. an unbearable sight indeed..
“you look like shit..” you tried to say it the nicest way possible but there was no other way to express your concerns, “you okay.. ?”
“gee thanks, and yeah, never been better actually.” jay replied, his tone laced with the utmost sarcasm.
obviously you don’t take his word for it. you know there’s something deeper going on but you didn’t impose any further. you didn’t want him to get upset or agitated with anymore of your prying, so you let it go for now.
the distressing environment around campus only thickens when a brutal murder was reported a few weeks ago. the sight of a decomposing body was found in the middle of the woods, right behind the football field. one of the professors discovered it as they took a walk along the trail— later identified to be soojin, the pretty little captain of the cheer team. her organs were scattered all over the perimeters, painting the greenery with a bold, crimson hue. some parts of her corpse weren’t able to be located, as most of her disemboweled body was eaten by the hungry animals, feasting on her rotting flesh like they just scored a full course meal.
this only caused an uproar of mass hysteria throughout the school, leaving everyone to believe that there may be something even more sinister going on. a vigil was held for her just as there was for the other victims who died in the fire; friends, family, and other town folk gathered around in memory of her. a police investigation was launched shortly after, but there haven’t been many updates on the case so far as no foul play was detected. the authorities simply assumed it to be an animal attack— albeit one of the most gruesome and barbaric attacks they’ve ever seen in their careers.
when you spoke to jay about it one night, you discussed all possible theories you’ve been brainstorming in your head. you believed it very well could’ve been an animal that did it, possibly a wild bear that just enjoys munching on humans for dinner— but he told you that was far from likely. however, you thought maybe he was only saying that just to instill more fear in you, which secretly worked.
you didn’t completely dismiss the possibility of it being some bloodthirsty animal.. she was torn limb from limb with absolutely no sign of weapons being used, so the likeliness of a regular person being able to do something of that caliber with their own bare hands made it almost slim to none. you truly thought her death was one of the saddest ways to go out.. you never spoke to soojin a day in your life but she was pretty popular and fairly well liked amongst everyone, you’d never guess her of all people would end up with a fate like this.
as you trudged through the halls, you bumped into one of your classmates ryujin, who’s been asking nonstop if you could set her up with jay. you’ve known for a while that she’s always had a thing for him and was hoping you could play cupid and be the middle man for her. you’d been putting it off for a while since you highly doubted that he’d reciprocate those same feelings, but being the good sport you are, you end up telling her that you’ll talk to jay, although you couldn’t make any promises.
upon meeting up with jay later on in the day, you proposed the idea to him, but of course, he declined almost straight away saying he wasn’t interested. he referred to her as that ‘weird, stoner goth chick who tries too hard’ and wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole. you definitely expected him to be adverse to your idea, but maybe not to this extent. you just wanted to see your friend happy but of course jay always has to ruin it…
however, not even an hour later, he ends up agreeing to it, as if a switch had flipped in his brain. you thought it was a bit strange how he’d simply gone from one extreme to the next but you didn’t question it as you had no reason to. ultimately, you were just happy for ryujin, at least she’d get to spend some alone time with her crush.
you on the other hand, had a multitude of worries of your own. you and mark were supposed to go see the new twilight movie in theaters, just to get your mind off everything— yet what you felt most anxious about was what’ll occur afterwards. you were planning on losing your virginity tonight, feeling as though you were ready to take the next step with him. well, at least you thought so.. but now you weren’t even feeling sure of that anymore. a part of you felt pressured to just lose it already and since you were dating mark, you may as well do it, right ? if only it were that simple..
๑ ๑ ๑
your nerves were at an all time high as you laid beneath his bare form. inhaling, exhaling, and repeating those same steps over and over. your mind was racing a million miles per minute, staring up at the ceiling as you rethink all of your life decisions.
everything seemed fine at first, until it wasn’t..
you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it, but all you knew was that this felt strange.. something doesn’t feel right.. all you could do was lay there, utterly detached from reality.
numbness.. that’s all you felt..
you wanted to crawl into your own skin and die, you shouldn’t be so repulsed by your own boyfriend being on top of you— but that was the only emotion you bore.
everything felt so foreign to you, his touch, the way he caressed you, it didn’t feel right. you couldn’t shake this odd sensation, it was something you didn’t want for yourself. you wanted to puke, absolutely sick to your stomach.
he kissed your neck, but you don’t feel a thing. completely stoic and emotionless. all you’re thinking about right now is jay. you had this inclination that something went terribly wrong and you needed an escape.
“i-i can’t do this.. i’m sorry..” you finally say out loud, quickly pushing him off of you before anything else could continue.
“did i do something wrong ?” mark asks, confused by your sudden coldness.
you simply don’t answer, scrambling to put on your clothes and leaving his house in a hurry to go and run to your car. you began driving in the direction of jay’s dorm, not knowing whether he’d be there or not. the limited amount of streetlights made it even more difficult to see, but you spot a shadowy figure heading towards you on the main road.
in a rush of panic you slammed onto the brakes hard, trying not to run over whatever’s coming towards the vehicle, thinking it was probably a deer or something—but you see that it’s jay, his clothes stained in blood just like night he was in your kitchen. you immediately got out of the car to go help him but he was no longer there anymore, as if he’s vanished into thin air.
confusion doesn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.. reluctantly heading back home, hoping that it was all some vivid hallucination that you were having— but the minute you went upstairs into your room, you see jay sitting on your bed, not a single drop of blood detected anywhere on him anymore.
“what are you doing here ?” you ask, blankly staring down at him over the rim of your glasses.
“just wanted to drop by and see my favorite girl.” he smiles crookedly, looking much healthier than he did when you saw him earlier, “what’s wrong with that, hm?”
“why’re you in my bed ? just go back to your dorm jay.” you didn’t have time for his little games right now, you just wanted to shut the whole world out.
“but i wanna stay… plus we always used to sleep together when we had sleep overs.” he pouts, proceeding to get even more comfortable as he had no plans on leaving anytime soon.
“is that my grateful dead t-shirt?” you get a bit closer to examine, growing irritated that he went through your stuff without even asking.
he doesn’t respond, at least not in the way you think he would. instead, jay harshly pressed his lips against yours. stretching the neckline of your shirt to pull all your weight on top of his. he managed to have some self control at first, but that didn’t last too long as he savored the taste of you. hesitantly, you kissed him back, whimpering at the feel of his tongue prodding at your lips, begging for entry. your mouth slightly parts, giving him just enough leeway for him to devour you in the sloppiest, most depraved way possible. he kissed you hard, hard enough to knock the wind out of you. nothing but raw passion and burning desire throughout.
his lips moved in perfect harmony with yours, tangling your hands into his messy, raven locks. jay would only grow more unhinged, never letting you gasp for air for more than half a second. he explored the depths of you, every nook and cranny, like he wanted you down to the marrow, swallowing you whole. he felt this primal urge in wanting to bite you, to sign your death with his teeth— but he resisted, at least not yet anyway.
when his hands came up to find your hips, his touch felt scorching hot against your skin… lifting your skirt up inch by inch. then the realization of what you’re doing finally hits, that you have a goddamn boyfriend and this isn’t something you should ever be doing with your best friend. quickly getting off of him, shouting in protest.
“jay, what the fuck ?!” you were horrified, not even wanting to look at him anymore.
“language y/n !” he giggles at your filthy vocabulary, licking his lips to capture your taste once more, “don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it either.”
“but i’ll admit, the reason i’m here exactly is.. i have a confession to make..” he takes a dramatic pause before continuing, “i haven’t been completely honest with you, and you’re the only one i can trust.”
you look at him strangely, unsure of what he fully meant by that, “what is it..”
“i’m dead.”
now you’re staring at him as if he just said the most absurd shit you ever heard, which quite literally it was.
“huh ? what do you mean you’re dead?”
“what do you not understand y/n, it’s pretty self explanatory.” he casually says if he were simply talking about the weather.
“i’m not sure i follow..” you didn’t get where he was heading with any of this, hoping that it’s just some joke with a bad punchline.
“it means i’m dead— as in not alive.” he repeats nonchalantly.
“jay, shut up. you’re not funny.” crossing your arms in annoyance, growing more impatient with him by the second.
“it’s true, i swear !”
“you’re ridiculous..” you’ve had enough of his little shenanigans, ready to walk away from him but he grabs you at the last minute, forcibly bringing you back to meet his gaze.
“just listen, it’ll all make sense soon,” he pleads, flashing you a sweet, puppy eyed look that could make anyone fold almost instantly.
“‘kay.. fine whatever.” you heave a sigh, sitting back down on your bed, still a bit reluctant on hearing him out.
“there’s something inside me… an evil entity,” he explains further, “ever since that night at the bar my body feels.. different.” he proceeds to tell you this dumb story that you weren’t buying for a second.
“c’mon, you really expect to believe tha-”
he cuts you off, proceeding to go on a whole tangent, “remember that band i told you about ? they drove me out to the creek, dragged me out of the van and offered me as a virgin sacrifice in exchange for fame and fortune. they kept telling me how hard it was to make it as an indie band so this was the only option they had left.. all i can remember afterwards was how much pain i was in… they each took turns stabbing me to death, singing some creepy chant as they did it, then they lit me on fire.. but the problem is that i’m not a virgin, so when scar and her little gang murdered me the ritual backfired and a demonic spirit took over my body. i was able to escape the forest but i left feeling so hungry.. so on my way back home, i saw some girl on the opposite side of the pavement, she looked quite edible so i ate her. and that’s how i started eating human flesh.”
you had no words. your only reaction was to blink rapidly at everything he just told you. there’s no way he could be telling you the truth, stuff like that only happens in movies, pure fiction. “that’s the craziest fucking story you’ve ever made up in your entire life jay.”
he seemingly grows frustrated at the fact you aren’t taking his words seriously, but he kept on talking anyway. “i’m being serious y/n, you’ve gotta believe me ! they’re basically agents of satan, they simply used me as a pawn. i was their gateway to the lifestyle they so desperately wanted to achieve..”
“so what you’re saying is that you’ve been reincarnated as a demonic spirit that feeds off of human flesh ? that’s what you’re trying to get at ??” you ask, confirming his very weird, but oddly specific narrative.
jay nods, “yes, that’s precisely what i’m trying to say.”
“so.. you’re telling me you’re the one who killed soojin ?” you question outrightly, hoping at the very least he had nothing to do with it, but if what he is saying was true that could very well be a possibility.
he nods again, “yep. and ryujin.”
your blood ran cold the minute upon hearing that, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, “wait- what ?!”
“yeah, i only agreed to meet up with her just to eat her. so it’s practically your fault that she’s dead.” he shrugs, seeing it as if it was no big deal.
you couldn’t comprehend a single thing your ears were hearing right now.. your own classmate was dead and gone because of your best friend.
“you’re a fucking monster.. she had a whole life ahead of her. hopes and dreams just like the rest of us..”
“well, now she’s food for worms, sucks to suck,” jay shrugs again, speaking so nonchalant about everything it made you want to scream at the top of your lungs.
disgusted didn’t even amount up to what you felt, sitting there in silence trying to process all of this.
“anyway, wanna see something cool?” he asks, not even bothering to await your response as you gave him the most questionable look of all mankind.
“i can withstand any injury without pain and i’m difficult to kill, see.” he takes one of your gel pens from your nightstand and stabs it straight into his own wrist, he was bleeding heavily at first but then the wounds start to close up within a few seconds, eventually fading away as if he didn’t just stab himself at all.
“see ! how cool is that ?? like some x-men type shit,” he says like a giddy school kid, bragging over his new abilities. “when i’m full, i’m practically invincible. i’m a fucking god.”
again, you were too stunned to speak. you genuinely thought you were losing your mind at this point, there’s no way any of this is real. it’s all a bad dream. you just need to pinch yourself and you’ll wake up, right ..?
“oh by the way, that night i snuck into your place, i was having all sorts of thoughts.. even thought about hurting you but i could never do that..” he finally admits to the night when he went into your kitchen, “i was just so hungry but nothing would satisfy my craving..” his eyes were a window to the truth, and by the looks of how empty they were, it was safe to assume you still had every right to frightened.
“jay, i- i really think you should leave…” your whole body was practically shaking, you couldn’t bear to look but you were far more terrified of looking away— falling apart at the seams.
he doesn’t even budge a little upon hearing you, “oh c’monn y/n, let me stay the night; we can play boyfriend and girlfriend like we used to… good times am i right ?” he strokes your hand with his, not even fully understanding the gravity of what he’s done or said this whole time.
“jay you’re freaking me the fuck out !” you raise your voice louder, removing yourself away from his touch. how could you let a literal murderer touch you ?
“there’s no need for you to be. i already told you that i’m not gonna hurt you.. at least not in that way..” jay clung onto you again, this time dragging you back down onto the bed as he forced himself on top of you.
you scrunch your eyes shut at the feel of his hands on you, idle fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. a surge of heat flushes down your thighs, blood rushing to your cheeks... and to your core. god, you were so embarrassed right now.
“w-what are you doing …?” you breathe out, opening your eyes once again, only to see him staring straight into your soul.
“don’t get all shy on me now.. we’re just havin’ a bit of fun,” he answers, “just messing around like the old days, right ?” he slid his index finger under the band of your skirt, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimeters away from yours.
“jay no, please-” you begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence.
“shh, it’s okay, i’ll take the lead. we can go slow… i promise i won’t bite. unless you want me to.” he darkly chuckles, tilting his head to the side, pressing a light kiss to your lips. surprisingly, you reciprocate it. he pulls his hand away from your skirt, enveloping it around your throat, not putting too much pressure around it just yet. “see, i knew you’d be into it, you’re my little freak, aren’t you ?”
you hated that you were getting aroused from this, the way he spoke to you in that husky tone. that same bubbling heat rushing to your core again.. you wanted to fight it, you truly did, but you couldn’t. your mind was telling you one thing but your body was reacting differently, as if you were under some spell that he casted.
you don’t know what to answer to that. is there even anything you can even say back to him ? you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. and besides, what’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and your mattress, his fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face, would you really be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this ? he practically knows you better than your own self at times, of course he’d be able to tell…
he kisses you again, but this time much hungrier, his tongue dominating yours easily. he nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your soft flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath— apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth.
he grazes the bump of your pussy covered by your lace panties with his fingers, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. you wanted to close your legs shut, but when he slowly rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a desperate whine escapes your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. the moment only brief until he dips his hand into your underwear.
you try to make him stop by grabbing ahold of his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘p-please’ that only makes him chuckle in response.
“mm.. already begging for me, sweetheart ?” he softly laughs, smirking at you. “excited by the idea of my fingers in your little cunt instead of your boyfriend’s ? hm ?”
you frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this... your thoughts are going into a completely different direction. what the hell’s wrong with you ?
“you wanna know how it feels, baby? what it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…” his dirty talk only continues, you couldn’t fathom this was really jay speaking to you in such a vulgar manner like this. your best friend who’s about to take your virginity whether you wanted it to happen or not, he was going to make sure that mark could never have you in such a way, wanted to ruin it for everyone else like he always does.
he’s not waiting for a response as he starts stroking your bundle of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. you let out another whine, this time of genuine pleasure.
jay then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for too long as he pushes a finger into you without warning. you bit down on your bottom lip harshly— the size of his fingers in no comparison to yours. your eyes swelled with water, faint little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit.
“i know, i know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” you nod your head, confirming his words. “it’ll feel good soon, i promise. you’re probably only used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”
when he says this, you have a hard time believing him. how could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this— when it’s not what you wanted..
he begins moving his fingers in and out of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. he’d curls his fingers every so often, making a little hook shape, patting your sweet spot. the intrusion was uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace.
tears continued to flow, falling down to your cheeks, lashes all wet and sticky, but they weren’t the result of your pain…
“god.. look at you. so pretty when you cry,” jay murmurs beside your ear, butterflies swirling in your stomach when he tells you this.
he unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his shoulder. you now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g spot. you dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. this makes you breathless, head rolling back onto your pillows, having never experienced anything like this before.
“o-oh my god-!” you exclaim when jay’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. your legs couldn’t stop twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.
you’d probably be more aware of how hard he was if it weren’t trapped in his loosely fitting jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than jay fingering you, hitting your sensitive spots each time he thrusts in.
“that’s it, baby,” he coaxes, moving faster. “you feel it ? huh?” he asks and you’re able to croak out a weak ‘yes’. “tell me how it feels.”
you hate his questions— you hate them so damn much. he knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does.
“g-good.”
“yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans and whimpers you let out.
“yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and slowly nodding your head. “fuck !” you curse out when you finally reach your high, nails digging into his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body violently shaking.
jay helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy dewy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all while said in the sweetest tone, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet.
“good girl,” he praises, “see, i told you it’d feel great.”
he still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. it’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but jay retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes.
he could simply stop there, but he won’t— not until he fully got what he wanted, he needs more…
he pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening with your arousal. “open wide for me, baby,” he instructs.
you glance at his hand, a little repulsed. you’ve never thought about tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done… if not for him.
you then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in.
“suck,” he adds on, expecting you to blindly follow all of his orders, and you do so without a second thought.
he stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. the taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… it doesn’t taste like much of anything, in fact.
he removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “just as sweet as you are,” he grins. “stand up for me, wan’ you to suck me off.”
your wobbly legs do their best at balancing themselves, slowly getting up only to be told to get back down on your knees. you sink down to the ground, leaning over to eye his stiff erection through his pants, slowly rubbing your hand over it as you palm him in your grasp. he hisses at the feel, already loving how you obediently take orders, how you’ve become nothing but a mindless slut for him.
you didn’t know the first thing you were doing but you did what felt natural, so you free his cock from the confines of his pants and underwear, watching as it sprung out and slapped against his stomach. jay was huge. his veiny, pink dick standing tall in front of you, gulping as you debate on how you’re going to take all of him in your tiny mouth.
his length throbbed in your small hand, tip already leaking out a pearly bead of precum, dribbling onto your fingers. you slowly press your mouth against the tip, keeping it there for a bit to get a little taste of him and to get used to the feel. then you swirled your tongue lightly around it, loving the salty tanginess of his precum against your tongue.
“fuck… feel so good around me already,” he bit his lip harshly, gripping the sheets as he groans with pleasure.
you wrap your mouth tighter around his length as you begin to slide your head down. bobbing it back and forth, keeping a tight suction on his cock, making sure not to use any teeth. you feel jay’s hips jolt up from the feel as you drew more saliva from your mouth, making a mess all over yourself.
he let out a low moan when his length hits the back of your throat, accidentally gagging at how much you took. you couldn’t take all of him in your mouth completely, but you did the best with what you could, bobbing your head as your hand stroked the rest. the way you looked while taking him made him want to bust at the very sight, nothing could compare to having your mouth around him.
“atta girl, keep going— just like that baby— ahh….” he keeps encouraging you, giving you small praises here and there. he does his best not to keep his eyes off you but he wanted to shut his eyes from how good you were making him feel, you were such a natural at this. as you continued stroking his cock with your pretty, talented mouth, he elicits more moans and it only makes you want to make him cum faster.
jay bit his lip even harder, trying so hard not to close his eyes, taking in shallow breaths. he could feel himself getting closer and his whole body tenses up like he’s got a volcano erupting inside him.
“shit— think ‘m gonna come… damn baby…”
you couldn’t say anything since his cock was buried deep down your throat. the only thing on your mind right now was getting him to finish inside your mouth. you lightly hum as you pick up your pace, he matches your movements with his hips, fucking your mouth aggressively. there was saliva everywhere, your face was flushed and you seriously looked such a mess. a beautiful mess, all for jay.
you feel his thickness throbbing in your mouth and a warm sensation hits the back of your throat. white ropes of his cum releases into you and you swallow it immediately, to which you earn yourself a “good girl” as you look up at him, drinking up all his cum. surprisingly, he tasted pretty good, emptying every last drop of him, once you finally pulled away he orders for you to get back on the bed and to bend over for him. you only hesitated for a second, looking at him credulously before doing what he asked of you, trembling legs meeting with the soft sheets again.
“are you…?” you say under your breath, peering over your shoulder to see jay stroking himself, looking at your glistening pussy that’s spread on perfect display for him.
“gonna put my cock inside you ?” he finishes your question for you. “yeah, i am.”
you stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down. he pumps himself a couple more times before aligning his head with your dripping wet entrance. his free hand keeping your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip.
“careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” he swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing throughout the room.
you can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. the burning sensation of your cunt getting stretched out was enough to make you see stars, and he was right. this hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings were not comparable at all.
“jay-,” you cry out, holding onto the sheets below you for dear life until there’s no more blood circulating in your knuckles.
he hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. when he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely.
you bit onto your lip, compressing a moan that dared to slip from your mouth again. he deliberately pounded into you, like he wanted everyone near to know just how badly he was ruining you, wanting you to beg and cry out for mercy, like he wanted every bone in your body to bend and break.
you involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. he thrusts himself deeper into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at an agonizingly harsh pace. each time he bottoms out, jay makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers.
your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restriction. it’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip.
you don’t know how long you can stay in this position for, especially when jay’s drilling his hard cock into you like nothing else matters. it’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too.
you’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath fanning against your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. you can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your gummy walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him right in.
“shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis.
he kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. he leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder. telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm. as he thrusts into you, his balls smack your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. jay lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face.
your mouth gaped to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. he didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough. making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you to death or eating you— or both. jay doesn’t care, he just wants it. it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. jay feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.
“please.. jay, so good..”
“gonna come in this tight little virgin pussy.” he captured your waist pulling you closer into him. “wanna put a baby in you, bet you’d like that, huh ?”
“holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until strings of white paints your insides. “oh, god…”
he stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. he then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you.
but he wasn’t done just yet, he wanted you to be completely, utterly, and thoroughly ruined by all parts of him. his fingers, his cock, and now his tongue.
“just need another taste..” jay couldn’t get enough of you, practically blinded by lust, all he wants is to have you, only you, no one else was more perfect than you.
he bends down, toying with your clit and licking your opening until you turned into a yelping mess underneath his tongue, tugging onto the sheets, pillows, whatever you could grasp, feeling like you were about to die. he had a strong grip on your thighs, kept you in place while you came on his tongue like you were made for it, so pretty and ashamed that he’s lost all self-restraint, if ever had any to begin with.
he continued to lap at your cunt, kissing and sucking at your clit, moaning into your heat. hands caressing your thighs, fingernails piercing, spreading you open wider for him. you grind against his face and jay couldn’t help but groan at the way you were so enthralled by the feel. his tongue never letting up against your clit, following your cunt with every movement you make, not letting you catch a break from the feeling of him against you.
his mouth domes around your clit, sucking you right in, teeth lightly grazing against your bud, momentarily making your back arch. mid arch, jay slips two fingers into you. the slight sting makes you hiss as he stretches you out again, long digits buried to the knuckles inside of you upon initial thrust. he soon plants open mouthed kisses against your cunt, fingers working their way in and out of you at an obnoxious pace, curling naturally.
the combination of jay’s tongue and fingers, along with his lips planting kisses against your cunt in between sloppy licks, is all too overwhelming. you couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers, pulling them in to beg for more, to which he gladly gives. fingers fucking into you faster, much deeper than ever before. the feeling of your impeding orgasm has you shaking, practically vibrating, unable to brace yourself for it.
tears pooling down the side of your face as you moan out for him. the tips of his fingers repeatedly hit the soft, gushy spot deep inside of you, biting his lip as he watches you come undone for him all over again. his thumb massaged your clit, slowly but surely dragging you further off the edge. you felt yourself relax into his touch, into the feeling of lust and desire fully engulfing your soul. that’s when it takes over… your vision blurs, almost going black, mouth agape as you let out broken moans. it’s all too much for you to handle, but you never want it to end..
your chest is getting hot and heavy, tightening as you cum, releasing all stress and tension, absolutely melting into this state that makes you feel like you’re floating. your body was on cloud nine as your cunt spills all over his fingers, wetness squirting all over jay’s forearm and thighs.
“jay…” you said his name on repeat, so low and barely audible, mind all foggy and hazy, as if he’d hypnotized you and the only word you can say was his name.
๑ ๑ ๑
a modus operandi. every killer has one, don’t they ?
some tend to prey on the young, weak, and most vulnerable. some may even go so far as devising a foolproof scenario that’ll get others to feel sorry for them, only to lure them right into their devious traps.
jay was no exception to this rule. he knew exactly how to use his good looks and charisma to get anyone to fall for his tricks. he didn’t need to put in too much effort, he didn’t have to seek anyone out because they’d come to him anyway. and no one knew a goddamn thing besides you. which only made you want to scream internally. only you knew the real truth.
ryujin’s death was the next topic of discussion for this whole week as more terror spewed upon the town. no one saw it coming, she was the last person anyone would think could be a target. gossip spread around quickly, revealing more details about the scene of the crime.
some of her internal organs were missing and was cannibalized just like soojin was. her body was so badly mutilated the authorities couldn’t even identify her at first. many were now believing it to be an act of some kind of satanic cult as there was a gigantic pentagram smeared in blood on her bedroom mirror. some were even saying that she looked like ‘lasagna with teeth’, to which you shuddered at that mental image being planted in your mind.
there was a campus curfew set in place to ensure the safety and wellbeing of the rest of the students. everyone’s worried they’ll be next, and since the killer hasn’t been caught this only made the entire town as a whole become on edge. the streets were barren, no sign of any activity past nine o’clock. no one felt safe, it was as if everything was on lockdown now. many were concerned that the upcoming spring formal would get canceled, but it’s been confirmed that it’ll still be held, although the times were changed from 7-10 PM to 6-8 PM to follow the curfew’s ‘no one out past nine o’clock rule’.
while studying in the library, you decided to do some of your own research about jay’s strange condition, reading as many occult books as you could find. you later discovered that he’s an incubus; a male demon that has sexual activity with other women. he was at his weakest state whenever he’s hungry, needing to feed on human flesh in order to sustain his lifespan and overall appearance. you never believed in the supernatural before all of this, but now that you’ve seen it with your own two eyes, you don’t think you’ll be able to live a normal life again.
“this can’t be real… there’s no way any of this is a coincidence, first the fire now a cannibal psycho’s on the loose?” mark rants about the recent murders as you sat on the swings at the park together. you were jealous of how blissfully ignorant he was, how he had no idea how much deeper this all ran.
“i know… it seems like we can’t catch a break, now the whole words got a raging tragedy boner for us..” you sigh out heavily, still shocked by how much media coverage all of this was getting, and even more uncertain if you wanted to tell him everything.
“you alright ?” he suddenly asks, noticing the way your head hung low as you stared at your feet. it was as if he could read your mind.
you pause for a moment, battling with your own inner demons on whether or not it was a good time to tell him everything, but you decide to be honest. it was the least you could do after what happened the other day…
“actually no.. i’m not..” you couldn’t withhold this information all to yourself anymore, you had to tell mark. you needed to keep him from going to the spring formal; it wasn’t safe for him to go, even if you would be with him.
so you spill everything, starting off from the night of going to the bar with jay, how he was brutally murdered and left for dead by that girl band who used him as a sacrifice, you told him about how he was there in your kitchen, and how he ended up slaughtering so many innocent people in his wake. you felt so sure of yourself that mark would believe you, but you were soon proven wrong the minute he opened his mouth.
“yeah you’ve officially lost it y/n, i hope you know that.” he looks at you as if you’ve gone crazy, mirroring the same actions as you from the night that jay confessed to you.
“i’m telling the truth mark, you’ve gotta believe me. you have to promise me that you won’t go...” you practically beg, hoping that all of this won’t fall on deaf ears, but of course, he doesn’t listen.
“i’m sorry but i don’t believe anything you’re saying right now.” he chooses to remain stubborn, staying in his ignorant little bubble as if you were just making all of this up just to get a reaction out of him.
“mark, i love you and care about you so much, that’s why i’m asking you not to go.” you continue to try and reason with him, hoping that he’ll change his mind somehow, even if you sounded like a lunatic you didn’t care.
“he’s going to strike again that night, i can feel it. it’ll be like an all you can eat buffet for him !” you may not be the most morally correct person, but mark’s life was on the line. you just don’t want him getting turned into satan chow…
���look, i’m going and that’s final y/n. with or without you.” he wasn’t interested in hearing whatever else you had to say, he’s already made up his mind and there no use in changing it.
you huff out of frustration, unable to think of anything else so you do what you feel was best for him and the both of you. “mark, i really didn’t wanna have to do this but it isn’t safe for us to be together. i think it’s best we break up..”
his eyes widened, feeling the pace of his heart quicken at your sudden words, “what ? you can’t be serious, y/n.”
“i bet jay put you up to this, didn’t he ?” his jaw clenched, fuming at the thought of jay conspiring a whole plan in getting you two to finally break up, it’s what he always would’ve wanted, and now mark feels like he’s just lost that seven month long, intensive battle against him.
you repeatedly shook your head, denying his accusation. but deep down you knew that you’ve already broken his trust anyway. maybe it was for the better that you were no longer together.
“are you really too blinded to see? he’s always been a bad influence on you..” mark was fed up at this point, feeling rightfully hurt by how easily you wanted to end this relationship all because of jay. “if he told you to jump, i bet you’d ask ‘how high?’, he’s got you wrapped around his finger, controlling you like a damn puppet !”
you were now the one to get in defensive mode, visibly getting upset. but you couldn’t get too upset, you knew there was a small truth to that statement, you were willing to do a lot of things you normally wouldn’t for jay, but you weren’t just going to let mark talk to you like that. your pride was too strong, plus you were already dealing with enough as it is. parting ways from each other was probably the best solution for you two.
“no.. i was only trying to protect you, but don’t say i didn’t warn you..” you gave him one last chance to rethink his decision but you knew he wouldn’t.
on that note, you end up heading back home. leaving mark all alone to go ponder in his own thoughts, feeling his eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he watched you walk away, fading into the void of obscurity.
๑ ๑ ๑
the night of the spring formal was finally here. the night you’ve been dreading since having that conversation with mark, forcing you to break up with him. the minute you got here you’ve been on high alert, scanning the area for any sign of suspicious activity, bringing a swiss knife with you as an added layer of protection. everyone was dressed in their best attire, bodies swaying to the music as they all tried to have a good time despite of everything that’s been happening. you didn’t see mark which you thought was a good sign, but surprisingly, you also don’t see jay anywhere either.
you were engulfed in nostalgia once mr.bright side by the killers airs on the overhead speakers of the gymnasium; which used to be you and jay’s favorite song in high school, but that fond memory only brought a wave of sadness to your soul now. looking back on those days, you specifically remember how much jay’s presence gave you strength to keep going; to keep existing. you truly felt as though you had no reason to live, but he gave you one.
during your adolescent years, it was nothing but turbulence and chaos. your father would routinely come home at the crack of dawn, drunk as sin and belligerent, destroying everything he touched. your mother would do her best to shield you from seeing and hearing their daily arguments, telling you to go straight to your room and lock the door until she says it’s safe to come back out. but being the nosy, and curious child you were you’d push your ear up to the door and listen. hearing the most horrid, degrading words he’d spew, beating her black and blue until he physically grew tired and passed out on the couch. you’d run away from home a couple times, going to jay for comfort, finding solace in one another.
jay could easily relate to your struggles, how you both felt as though no one saw you as real, raw human beings. his father left before he was even born and his mother would dabble in sex work to keep the lights on. he despised every single one of those men who’d come into his home, sometimes his mom would be gone for several days on end, forcing him to grow up at a young age and take care of himself. he wanted to seek revenge on all of those men who violated her, kill them with his own bare hands. maybe that’s why he’d act out so much, he was just a kid being a kid— but no one ever saw the cries for help, no one paid attention to the signs. just labeled a pretty boy with ugly intentions. you never saw him that way though, you were the light at the end of the tunnel, his saving grace. yeah you may have been the awkward kid who didn’t talk much, but eventually he got you to open up. and ever since then, you’ve been conjoined at the hip.
a part of you still wants to believe that he’s that same naïve boy you once knew, still so lost and so confused. but you couldn’t keep making excuses for him, even if he was a damaged soul, so were you. you truly brought out the best and the worst of each other, having seen each other at some of your lowest points in life. which is why you made a vow to never leave the other behind, but we change and evolve over time, it’s natural to grow distant. jay simply couldn’t handle the fact that someone else made you smile, made you feel all those emotions he made you feel— you were slipping right through his fingers. you were all he had left. and he wasn’t going to lose you, not now, not ever.
๑ ๑ ๑
an hour’s passed by already and there was still no sight of either of the two. your mild worries would soon fester into full blown anxiousness when you get this innate feeling that mark could be in danger. you weren’t exactly sure where he was, or if he’s had an encounter with jay, but all you could think about right now was saving his life. even though you betrayed him in the end by sleeping with jay, you couldn’t let him die, you’d never be able to live with yourself if you let that happen. so you hurried out of there and went looking for him, having zero idea exactly where you were headed, but your mind just kept telling you run, run, run.
you don’t know how long you’ve been running for, maybe around twenty, thirty minutes ? who even knows anymore. your legs grew tired, stopping midway to take a breather, until you ended up at an old abandoned pool house. you had an overwhelmingly bad feeling about the place the more you looked at it, but when you heard the gut wrenching screams coming from inside that only confirmed your suspicions, sounding a lot like someone you knew. you ran inside, following their cries for help as you try and locate which direction it was coming from, only to find jay who seems to have found his next victim— your ex boyfriend.
“get away from him !” you demand while shouting from across the room. you can feel your heartbeat accelerate as you’re speed running towards them both, forcefully pushing him off of mark, tackling jay onto the floor.
“i thought you only did this to girls !” you had held some hope that jay wouldn’t harm him, but then again you should’ve known this was bound to happen..
“i guess you can say i go both ways,” he devilishly smirks, swiping the blood off his lower lip with the sleeve of black tux.
jay throws you off of him, causing you to wince in pain as your face made contact with the cold, tiled ground. you wouldn’t back down that easily though, getting right back up to finish what you started. sprinting towards him before he could get back to the work of his own brutality.
“you know, now that i think of it. you were never a good friend to me,” you angrily spat, walking up to him with your head held high, refusing to let fear win this time. “you used to rip the head off my barbie dolls and pour spoiled milk all over my bed !”
jay chuckles at your little speech, utterly amused by your resilience, even found it cute how you were still reminiscing about the past. “and now i’m eating your boyfriend, at least i’m consistent.” he shrugged.
“you make me fucking sick..” you grit through your teeth, grabbing ahold of him before he could take another bite out of mark’s shoulder.
using all your strength, you’d shoved him into the pool, submerging him into the water, attempting to drown him, but those efforts were futile when he regains control. he pulls you back, teeth becoming sharper, like tiny daggers, sinking them into the flesh of your neck. before you could react, you’re the one being lodged into the water; claw-like nails digging into your scalp, razor sharp, weighty against your skull.
it’s hard to keep your head above the water due to the forceful heaviness and before you know it, attempting to hold your breath renders itself useless due to large amounts of water infiltrating your lungs. you’re flailing, thrashing around, arms lifting— hands frantically attempting to grab ahold of anything, only to slash through the water, legs kicking mindlessly.
you had to get him off you real quick, or else you felt as though you were going to die. your body grew weaker and weaker, seeing your life flash before your very eyes as panic fully sets in. it felt as though this was going on for hours.. being edged by death over and over; feeling as if you were going to black out soon. your vision was blocked by the dark, murkiness of the water, ensuring to agitate you with fright, unsure of when it’s all going to come to an end.
and then it does… finally able to emerge from the coldness as you cough up all the water you inhaled. it took a few minutes for you to be able to learn how to breathe again, attempting to calm yourself down, only to turn around seeing both jay and mark wailing in pain for two completely different reasons. mark was lying on the ground, putting pressure on his neck as jay stood there frozen, holding onto the pool skimmer that was deliberately pierced through his stomach.
“you son of a fucking bitch…” he mutters, remaining still for a second, as if he was processing what just happened. a slew of more curses left his lips, sucking in air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can. he’d slowly but surely drop to his knees, and a few seconds later he’s collapsing to the ground in a pool of his own blood.
you go up to mark, staring down at his wounded figure, his neck and shoulder bleeding profusely. “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you..” you sniffled, unable to hold back tears you’ve shed, wishing you could’ve been just a few minutes earlier.
“it’s okay.. i love you y/n..” mark weakly spoke, coughing up red splatters of blood as he took his last few and final breathes.
you gave him one last kiss as his eyes closed, you checked for a pulse but there was no sign of life, officially pronouncing him dead. you turned around and jay was gone. forcing you to run out of the place to go and looking for him. there was no other option you had left at this point, it was either you or him that was going to end up dead tonight.
eventually you’d caught up to him in the woods, finding him at a nearby tree, as if he were waiting for you to come searching for him.
“i have to kill you..” you cut straight to the point, grabbing the swiss knife that was at the bottom of your ankle boot, pointing it towards him.
“not if i spill your pretty little guts all over this ground first,” jay laughs, barely moving an inch. still seeing this as all one big game to him, enjoying the thrill of it all.
“why’re you try to be the hero all of a sudden ? still feeling guilty you couldn’t save all those people who burned to death ? they were all a bunch of worthless scum anyway, if anything, i did them all a favor.” his head tilts as he asks so many questions, attempting to throw you off, knowing that it’d only agitate you further.
you backed away as he kept coming towards you, still pointing the sharp edge at him, “you’re wrong, jay. they all deserved to live yet you took it all away like the sick, inhumane fuck you are.”
“is that really what you think of me ? then why’d you let me take your precious virginity, hm ? can’t you see ? i’m the only person who actually ever gave a shit about you.” the smile on his face was so uncanny, as if it came straight out of a cartoon. he was nothing but pure evil, and he knew it.
you couldn’t bear to listen to him speak anymore, it was giving you a headache, you had to end this quickly. you remember while doing your paranormal digging, that a blade to the heart can kill any demon, now it’s all up to you to finish the job.
“i don’t care how long it takes, you’re going to die by the end of this night.” you stated matter-of-factly, you weren’t going down without a fight, and jay happily accepted your challenge with open arms.
he bursts out into more laughter, but it was anything but normal, it sounded maniacal, as if he were taunting you. “i’d love to see you try, sweetheart.”
he lunged forward to snatch the knife out of your hand, wrestling on the ground with him to try and get it back. you couldn’t let him win, not after all you’ve went through. all you had to do was plunge the weapon into his chest and you’d end this reign of terror once and for all. but once you obtained the knife, positioning it towards his chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
“if you’re going to do it then just get it over with. just do it already.” he bitterly spoke, repeating his words over and over, egging you on in your already frenzied state. even if you wanted to, you couldn’t, it was like the minute you had your chance, every particle inside of you froze…
“shut up, shut up, shut up !” you couldn’t even think straight, just shaking your head nonstop while screaming at him to stop talking.
jay could’ve easily overpowered you by now, but it was almost as if he wanted you to do it, willingly ready to die by the hands of you.
“and to think i used to truly believe you were my other half…” you looked at him in disgust, unable to see him as the man who you once knew for practically your whole life. you felt as though you wasted so many of your precious years befriending the most evil, conniving person on the planet.
“silly girl... don’t you remember ? i bit you, so you'll eventually obtain my supernatural powers.” he reminds you of what happened not even an hour before, “our souls are connected now.”
you shook your head in protest, refusing to even entertain that idea, “no… i could never be like you, i’d rather die than be like you..”
jay didn’t seem to be bothered at all by your opposing comments or your lack of compliance. if anything, it only made him want you even more. sure, you may not be cooperating now, but he’ll soon condition you into believing that the only thing you’ll ever need is him.
he cracks a faint smile, “i’m afraid it’s already too late for that, my darling,” he spoke to you softly. not even realizing he’s took the knife from your hands, bringing it down to your thighs, letting the blade run across your delicate skin.
“jay…” you say his name quietly, barely above a whisper. something inside you shifts the minute your gaze meets his, a warm, fuzzy feeling tickling a certain spot within your brain chemistry. you don’t know how to describe it, but your body feels different, so inexplicably different. as if it doesn’t even belong to you anymore.
“you know i’ve always loved you y/n,” jay sweetly coos into your ear, “i just have an awfully morbid way of showing it.”
his words flustered you to no end, feeling guilty for wanting to just give in, all the fight soon evaporating from your body. although you still had so much love for mark, your undying love for jay over the years trumped all of those emotions. the primal desire for him only grew once he’d connect his lips with yours. kissing you tenderly under the glowing moonlight. just you and him, along with the coppery taste of blood on each other’s lips.
you know why you couldn’t kill him. because if you did, you know there’d be no one else in this world who could ever understand you in the same way he does. the two of you shared an eternal bond that could never be erased nor replicated. if you were the kerosene, then he was the match, slow dancing in each other’s flames gracefully.
a made match in heaven ? no, more like a match made in hell.
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kyuujo · 2 months ago
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↳ check yes or no
↳ sae itoshi x fem!reader ↳ sfw ↳ influencer!reader, established relationship, hidden(ish) relationship, going public, language, fluff + crack(?), jealous!sae, kissing on livestream, slight possessiveness, shat outta my ass ngl, my writing
↳ 1.3k words
↳ i’m sorry sae has me in a chokehold (i love it harder pls) and this little brain bug just randomly slid into my skull sooooo here it is! thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoy dahlings! <3
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(y/u/n)fan1998: welcome back lovely!
switterz: good to see you again! hope ur feeling better!
emi44578: i missed you so much!
a smile pulled at your lips and your chest warmed at the multitude of messages flooding your livestream. your throat was still a little sore, but thankfully your stomach had stopped rolling the day prior, and you’d been fever free for twenty-four hours. you didn’t feel completely better, but you felt well enough to at least start a small stream.
“aw, thank you guys so much.” you croaked, voice slightly groggy and thick. “i’m feeling a bit better, but as you can probably hear, i’m not outta the woods yet.”
once more, messages flooded your screen, so fast that you could hardly catch more than a mere glimpse of one before it was pushed up by another. your fans seemed to be extremely pleased by your online appearance, and it made you so happy despite the sickness still weighing down your body.
you hated having to take time off, especially unexpectedly.
the chat slowed to a comfortable trickle as you dived into the events of the past week, starting off with how you even got sick in the first place. you had to tweak the truth a bit — after all, you couldn’t exactly tell your audience that you’d caught a cold by attending your boyfriend’s game alongside a snotty, congested child.
“… this kid was sneezing all over the place, and the mother didn’t even care to wipe his nose or the things he sneezed on. it was so gross.” you complained, receiving a fair share of agreements and sympathies from your viewers.
it was as you were berating the mothering skills of a complete stranger when something familiar caught your eye. a username followed by a simple message, one you’d seen time and time again.
(y/n)husband1: (y/n) will you go out with me? check yes or no
you forced out a small laugh and shook your head as you addressed the message. your skin felt tight suddenly, that username always putting you off just slightly.
“i’m afraid i’m going to have to check ‘no.’ i’m in a very happy relationship.” the same answer you gave every time.
there was a flurry of comments again, some berating the user who had even typed a message like that and others calling out cap on your statement. you were fairly used to that; you’d never even shown sae on camera before, so your relationship was as good as hearsay to your viewers.
“okay, let’s just calm down.” you chipped out, barely suppressing a cough that threatened to rip through your throat. “i’ll need to take some more medicine soon, so i don’t have very long. let’s do some q and a before i go.”
thirty minutes later and over two dozen questions answered, you finally said goodbye to your viewers and clicked off the livestream. your shoulders sagged with relief instantly, and you let out a small sigh.
“how’d it go?”
you startled at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts. sae’s voice was a smooth, seemingly uninterested rumble. you calmed your racing heart and hummed as you stood from your chair, raising your arms up to stretch out your stiff torso.
“not bad at all. they weren’t mad at me, at least.”
sae rolled his eyes as you ambled to his side, his arm immediately sliding around your hip as he guided you to the sitting quarters.
“so what if they were? the feelings and thoughts of insignificant strangers aren’t important.”
you clapped your palm over his chest gently and shushed him. sae was always blunt like this; but his words did remind you of something.
“oh. that reminds me. (y/n)husband1 struck again.”
you know you didn’t imagine the way sae’s fingers tightened on your hip. was it wrong that you took some pleasure in that? maybe.
“what did they say this time?” sae murmured a bit tightly.
you huffed and rolled your eyes. “the same thing they always say. ‘(y/n) will you go out with me? check yes or no.’”
“it’s incredible they don’t already have a girlfriend, what with that irresistible smooth talk.” sae quipped, pulling a giggle from your throat. you shook your head and wrapped your arm around his rib cage, stumbling slightly from the awkward position.
“let’s just go find a movie, baby.” you suggested, your statement quickly garnering sae’s agreement. cuddles late into the night were always your favorite; and you had a feeling they were sae’s too.
three days later, you were completely recovered and back to your usual streaming schedule. your viewers were quite happy with the development, and for the most part, it was smooth sailing.
well, except for the occasional whirlpool conjured by the appearance of (y/n)husband1. they seemed to strike when you least expected it, and always with the same stupid question — the same stupid question that earned the same stern answer.
even your viewers seemed to be becoming irate by it, as they expressed their distaste on multiple occasions.
switterz: why dont u just block them from your streams? they’re annoying!
(y/u/n)fan1998: yea they’re clogging up the chat log all the time! and harassing u!
you wet your lips and said, slightly timidly, “well, technically, they aren’t breaking any rules guys. the best thing to do is simply ignore them, like i do.”
a majority of the chat seemed to disagree, but you weren’t wrong in what you said; though they spammed the same message again and again, they technically weren’t breaking any of the rules you had set in place during your first few streams.
suddenly, as if on the drop of a hat, the chat began to flood with a different topic — one that seemed to have taken over the controversy of (y/n)husband1 entirely.
switterz: SAE FCKIN ITOSHI????
emi44578: why is sae itoshi in ur house?!!?!?????
jackerquack: WTF HELLO SAE
user193949294: DONT TELL ME YOUR BF IS SAE ITOSHI!!!!
usererror404: THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE THERES NO WAY
“what—?”
“i have to agree with the chat. you should block them.”
you swiveled around in your chair only to nearly touch noses with sae. your eyes widened and your lips popped open. what the hell was he doing? wasn’t his pr manager the one that insisted his relationship with you stay underwraps? just what was even happening?
there were hundreds of questions you wanted to ask, but in your pure shock you simply could work any past your lips; sae blinked once, then twice, before turning his eyes to the monitor in front of you.
“for those who have been wondering if she’s in a relationship, she is. with me. so no more harassment, or lying accusations.”
your heart was literally racing in your chest, your entire body frozen. sae was acting completely normal, as if he hadn’t just gone against every wish of his pr manager. you didn’t feel scared, per se, but the only emotion you could liken what you felt to was fear.
“demonking12 says they don’t believe it.” sae observed smoothly, eyes skimming down the chat. “and there’s some others who second that…”
you couldn’t even look at your screen — your eyes were glued to sae. how could he be so calm right now?!
sae turned to meet your stare of disbelief, and your stomach rolled when his lips quirked into the smallest, most mischievous smirk you’d ever seen grace his features.
“should we prove it?”
“um, what—?” you couldn’t even finish your blubbering before sae leaned in quickly and captured your lips with his — right in 4k!
the kiss wasn’t messy, or even sultry in nature, but it had your nerves lighting up and your cheeks flaring. sae’s lips were soft, warm, and almost commanding — it lasted a total of three seconds, but it was long enough to have your legs feeling weak.
sae pulled away but left just enough space between the two of you that you could see the sly swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip — as if he were collecting remnants of your taste.
“i’m pretty sure you’ve met your hour stream goal; time to entertain me, now.”
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thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed! likes, comments and reblogs are by no means required but are so greatly appreciated! <33
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crystalflygeo · 3 months ago
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Kinktober Day 3 - Oviposition ft Dan Heng (Honkai Star Rail)
Soooooooo.... this got out of hand WHEEZE as it always does when it involves dragon eggs. I'm-.... I'm just hopeless atp. Buckle up I'm about to ignore canon and pull a lot of made up shit from thin air for the sake of horny, lmaoooo. Lovingly dedicated to @moraxsthrone
This is how Tang Tang was made//HIT
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At first, you aren’t sure if you heard correctly. 
Dan Heng says nothing but pointedly avoids your gaze with a healthy blush on his cheeks.
“Did you say, uh… maybe I misheard but-” You start.
“Eggs.” Dan Heng repeats. “Dragon eggs, much smaller, of course, but they… could be viable…”
“... Eggs.” You say with a blink. 
Dan Heng sighs. “Yes.” And turns around to stare and interact with a few screens. “According to some ancient records it seems, those who have fully realized their potential as draconic Vidhyadara and manifest the dragon-like characteristics and behaviors, could, in theory, be able to pass on genes and reproduce like our reptile counterparts.” 
He is still not looking at you. Scrolling mindlessly through windows of text and opening and closing tabs. He’s nervous, you know it. 
“Children.” You blurt.
“Yes, I… it’s understandable if you have reservations. There is time to consider, I don’t want you to feel obligated to anything or…”
There’s a bit of hope in his voice, your heart warms up and flutters. Children. It’s been such an accepted impossibility in your relationship. You’ve entertained the idea of adoption someday. Now there could be a chance?
You just never imagined it would involve getting railed and apparently pumped full of-
You inhale, close your eyes, and decide to speak before you think too much about it. “Alright, but you have a lot to explain.” 
------------------
And so, he explains. In excruciating detail. 
Dan Heng seems to be pondering aloud just as much as he is trying to explain the whole process. All an educated guess, though, as he puts it. You’re working with estimations and are not sure how to feel about that but he’s put an incredible amount of research into it all and that, at least, soothes you.
Over the years you’ve seen Dan Hang in many different ways and dealt with your fair share of… interesting Vidyadhara traits. Mates? Good. Funky dragon anatomy? Very good. Being protective and territorial over you? Yes. But eggs… will definitely be new. 
Your back hits the mattress and you shiver nervously, only in your underwear. Dan Heng kisses you softly, his hand cupping your cheek. Like this his eyes have an almost ethereal glow and his long dark hair is unbound falling down his back. Teal horns crown his head, and though they aren’t new you can’t help but be amazed by them every time.
“How do you feel? Are you sure about this?” He asks tenderly. 
You’re trying hard not to think too much about your previous discussions, sneaking a glance at his underwear out of the corner of your eye, or more accurately, at the large bulge in it. 
You lick your lips nervously and nod “Yeah… yeah, sure.” 
He sighs and smooths a hand along your shoulder. “If you have changed your mind-”
“No, no! I haven’t I promise I just… I’m nervous, there’s a lot to consider and…” You stare at him for a moment and remember, he is walking this path with you, just as lost and nervous. “I love you.” You smile reassuringly. “I love you so much. I want this.”
His breath comes out in a woosh and he leans forward again to kiss you. 
It’s passionate, demanding, his tongue tangles with yours and explores your mouth and you groan, your body melting under him, hands roaming each other’s bodies. You see his teal dragon tail manifesting, swaying about excitedly before curling around your ankle possessively.     
He massages your breast, pinching a nipple between his fingers to bring it to a stiff peak, you whine and arch your back, he takes the chance to make short work of your bra and toss it somewhere along the dark room before your arms curl around his neck once more to pull him down into another kiss.
His hips buck into yours and he moans. Even through the fabric you can already tell this time something is different. 
And honestly you can’t wait. 
Your fingers hook at the edge of his underwear, teasing, and start to pull down, Dan Heng groans and helps you discard his last piece of clothing, your panties quickly joining after and this is it. You stare.
Not just his gorgeous, thick cock you’ve come to love so much but two. Two.
One is relatively normal, his shape and girth familiar despite the clear draconic hue from his dark uncut tip and soft ridges. The other slightly larger, with a pointier tip, not as strange as Dan Heng had made it out to be. The Vidyadhara had been all shy and hesitant about it, both out of embarrassment and perhaps because he was afraid it might scare you off. 
Instead, desire pools between your legs. Oh, how you want.
“A-Alright, so first I should-!!” Any other words are lost in a strangled moan as you reach out and wrap your hand around the unfamiliar length. It’s hot in your palm, thick and firm. Dan Heng hisses as you tentatively jerk it a bit, squeezing around the tip, it’s spade-shaped and neatly tapered, perfect for reaching deep and pressing on just the right spots. 
Or so you assume, won’t know until you try.
He bucks into your hand with a grunt and you stare fascinated at the leaking tip, before either of you can process it, you dark forward and lap at it. “Hng!” He tosses his head back and his hand flies to grip at your hair. 
It tastes salty, slightly more viscous and you can’t get enough of it, you gingerly kiss at the tip and mouth at it before closing your lips around the crown, it’s thick in your mouth, your hand teasing the rest of it. 
You stare up at Dan Heng, his eyes shut tight, brow furrowed and face flushed all the way to the tips of his pointy ears, he’s tense and shivering, clearly holding back from rutting into the wet warmth of your throat. 
So, you attempt to take him deeper, moaning for good measure so the vibrations drive him insane, and you’re rewarded with more pleasured noises that make your pussy clench.
“My love… w-wait-” He gasps, you run your tongue along the underside of his length. “Fuck-!” Ohhh he’s losing his composure, his grip on your hair tightening. When your other hand curls around his unattended cock, thumb swirling at the tip, he snaps. “Enough.”
You pull off with a wet pop, licking your lips and catching your breath. 
Dan Heng pushes you back with a hand and you follow easily, back hitting the mattress and spreading your legs eagerly for him to slot in. He reaches for a pillow and places it under your hips, raising the slightly, his tail now curls around your thigh. 
Your stares cross, love and lust mixing. 
“Are you ready?” He asks, his thumb rubbing over your entrance, finding you dripping wet. 
“Yes, Aeons, yes…”
He leans down to kiss you again, tender this time, there’s a sense of intimacy that warms you. How you love this man, this dragon. The way he dotes over you, the way he breathes in your scent and kisses you and holds you close, tender. 
He sinks two fingers inside you and you whimper into the kiss. He works you open slowly, reverent, pulling in and out, stretching them a bit and adding a third. You’re squirming, desperate and worked up. Nails dragging on his back and shoulders. “Dan Heng please…” 
He kisses at your neck, nips the skin there with his fangs. “Be patient, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. Please, just put it in. Breed me.” 
He stops, you hear a little growl, ragged breath on your collarbone, and suddenly the fingers are gone. You barely have time to miss them when that thick pointy cockhead is pressing against you. 
Then it sinks in, the glide slow and gentle with Dan Heng’s careful movements.  
And oh, oh- you feel him stretch you. Thick and long and so, so hot. It spears you open in the most delicious way, rubbing at your insides as he pulls out ever so slightly before fucking in deeper with slow rolls of his hips.
You toss your head back and moan. You feel so full, deliciously complete. The draconic cock settling deep inside as Dan Heng bottoms out, his balls flush against your taint and the second cock dribbling precum everywhere on your thigh and navel.  
You take a moment or two to settle, both of you, and then he starts moving. Dan Heng pulls back and rolls into you languidly, slow and deep, testing the waters. 
“So good for me… so warm and… thigh-!” He murmurs against your skin, pressing kisses anywhere he can reach. You keen, arching off the mattress and meeting his every thrust.
The air is thick and heavy, he presses as close as he can against you, your legs lock behind his back as he gradually speeds up. Your thoughts are fuzzy, blissed-out. The room is a cacophony of moans and whimpers and the sound of skin on skin. 
“I need- please- Dan Heng-!!”
The drag of his cock sets you alight, every nerve stimulated, pleasure building and building…
“I’m close” He rasps out. You’re about to tell him to come deep inside as he always does and then you remember.
“Oh.”
Dan Heng’s grip tightens in the sheets, his thrusts slow to a crawl and you suddenly feel a subtle bulge pressing against your hole. “T-that’s-” You say breathlessly. 
An egg.
He presses his forehead against yours and rolls his hips a little more insistent, trying to ease it in “Careful now…relax for me.” 
You’re trying but the pressure is intense and you’re already so full of thick cock. How can you take more? You whimper.
“I’m-”
“You can do it.”
A dragon egg, a little dragon baby. A tiny piece of you and him joining to create something wonderful. This is why you’re doing this. 
“Almost there” His voice is a soothing balm, con contradictory to the way he ruts into you, pushing your limits. But the way his teal eyes almost glow, pupils pulled to slits, flushed and panting but so determined, staring at you with so much love. You bite your lip and cant your hips, muffling your cries as his cock slips deeper with every thrust. 
It feels like an eternity when the ovipositor slips back all the way inside, and you cry out.
Dan Heng’s thumb traces your clit and while he can’t really pull out, he fucks into you with a nice deep grind.
“Dan Heng-!” You whisper, nothing more than a debauched breathless mess. “Dan Heng, Dan Heng, Dan Heng…”
The coil in your gut snaps and you come with a scream, tears springing to your eyes and your walls fluttering around his length, easing the egg deep inside you. He fucks a few more thrusts into you and then makes a noise you never heard from him before, a sort of choked growl.
Then, he stills.
You spend a few moments catching your breath and Dan Heng nuzzles into you, kissing away your tears as you lie a full, overstimulated, flushed mess. 
“Bear with me just a little longer.” He pants, pulling back a a little to hover over you. You groan, having almost forgotten about this particular step and the promise of his other cock, the one more familiar to you. 
He eases the ovipositor out of you slowly. The egg vaguely feeling heavy and round in your womb. You can’t think straight as Dan Heng shifts against you, his other cock resting against your entrance before easily sinking in, smaller than the first, bottoming out immediately. 
You sigh.
“I… I won’t last long.” He admits.
“Breed me.” You repeat. “Our egg will take.”
It seems like the right incentive as he starts fucking into you in a frenzied pace, pressing and pulling at your insides. You sob and squirm, uselessly trying to match his rhythm. He growls, groans and tips over surprisingly quickly, filling you up with sticky cum. 
Your body sags, spent, aching, full, and so utterly satisfied. He stays lodged in deep and doesn’t move. You both take a moment to come down from the intense high. 
Dan Heng slides a hand along your tummy, smoothing the skin there and feeling the very small subtle bulge there. “Mine. All mine… both of you.” He claims.  
You place your hand on his and smile weakly.
He finally pulls out, making you groan at the emptiness, and maneuvers you both onto your sides, spooning you. He brushes at your hair and kisses the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings “You did so well. I love you.” His hand rests on the soft curve of your stomach. The barest signs of a bump that could be easily missed. “Rest.” 
You sigh deeply, content. “Love you too…” Comes out slightly slurred. And so, you rest.
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melzula · 9 months ago
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zuko confiding in sokka to be his wingman to try to get together with you?
a/n: sokka sharing his back bending skills with zuko we love to see it. also this takes place post-war
summary: Zuko isn’t sure how to tell you he likes you, so he looks to Sokka for guidance
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Zuko watches longingly from across the room as you dance with Katara and enjoy the night’s festivities. Your eyes sparkle with joy and your smile is so infectious it has everyone around you beaming. Everyone seems to want your attention, and so he hadn’t been able to speak to you much since the party began, but he desperately wants to be near you.
“You know you look like a total creep when you stand in the corner and stare, right?” Sokka notes, interrupting Zuko’s sulking.
“I’m not staring!” The Fire Lord says defensively, but he knows he’s not fooling anyone.
“Come on, buddy, it’s a party! Lighten up! Go mingle!”
“I don’t want to mingle,” Zuko grumbles indignantly, “I just want to talk to y/n.”
“Then go talk to her!” Sokka encourages as if it’s the most easiest thing in the world. “It’s not like you haven’t talked to her before. She’s our friend!”
“I know that,” the boy bites irritably. Deflating, he sighs, “But it’s different this time.”
“What do you mean?” Sokka says, his demeanor morphing into that of a more serious tone.
“I… I think I have feelings for her.”
“You what?!” Sokka exclaims, earning a few puzzled stares from nearby partygoers. Zuko sends his friend a harsh look and urges him to be quiet.
“I know, I know. What am I thinking? She’s perfect, she’d never go for someone like me,” he admits in quiet defeat. “It’s stupid of me to feel this way.”
“What? No way, that’s not true,” his friend insists encouragingly. “You’re a great guy! You just need to work on your romance game.”
“My what?” Zuko retorts skeptically.
“Your romance game! Look, if you want y/n to like you then you have to work your charm.”
“I don’t have any charm to work.”
“Sure you do, it’s easy! Take it from your old buddy Sokka, the ladies love me. Just follow my advice and by the end of the night y/n will be dying for you to ask her out!”
Zuko is skeptical of his friend’s words and hesitant to take Sokka’s offer of help, but he knows he’s hopeless on his own and there aren’t many other options. With a relenting sigh, Zuko gives his friend an agreeing nod.
“What should I do first?”
“Just follow my lead,” the boy says with a wink before loudly calling you and his sister over. Zuko does his best to mask his embarrassment and puts on his best attempt of a smile as you and Katara saunter over arm-in-arm.
“Hi, guys!” You greet cheerily. “King Kue really knows how to throw a party, doesn’t he?”
“He sure does! Say, that’s a really nice dress,” Sokka compliments before harshly elbowing Zuko’s side. “Don’t you agree, Zuko?”
“Uh, yes, it is,” he stammers nervously, his face immediately turning red. “You look very beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you reply with a bashful smile. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
“Not at all,” he says earnestly. “You could never be too much.”
“You know, y/n, Zuko here was just telling me how much he wants to dance,” your friend informs you much to the Fire Lord’s dismay.
“What?! That’s not-“
“Oh, well, would you like to dance with me, Zuko?” You ask with a careful smile, delicately holding your hand out for him to take. His protests immediately die in his throat as he takes in your gentle features, the world almost seeming to come to a halt as he focuses on you before him. Your beauty almost physically pains him, and he wished he knew how to tell you this without coming off like a total creep.
Zuko hesitates before taking your hand, knowing that whatever happens next could alter your friendship forever, but the idea of physical touch is almost too tempting, and so he gently grabs hold of your hand and guides you back to the dance floor.
The musicians play a melody of traditional Earth Kingdom waltzes, and despite knowing nothing about dancing Zuko does his best to match your pace. His hands are suffocatingly warm against your skin, but you never once complain. You say nothing when he steps on your toes repeatedly or gets caught on your dress, and in spite of how awkward you both look compared to the other couples on the floor you seem to be having the most fun out of them all.
“You’re doing wonderful,” you encourage, giggling when he missteps and nearly trips over his own feet.
“I’m awful at this,” he argues exasperatedly. “I’m sorry you got stuck with such a lousy dance partner.”
“I don’t care about how good you can dance. I’m just happy you’re dancing with me,” you admit, looking away bashfully to hide your smile. “I haven’t really been able to speak to you much tonight, so I appreciate being with you now.”
Over your shoulder, Zuko spots Sokka from across the way. The water tribe boy waves his arms frantically and gestures for Zuko to make his move. The Fire Lord simply scowls before swallowing down his nerves and looking back to you.
“Y/n,” he calls faintly, gently guiding your face to look back up at him. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you all night, but it’s been hard. You’re so full of life, you draw people in with just your smile, and so I didn’t think I’d get the chance to finally be alone with you and tell you that- well, that I have feelings for you. I want to be the one that makes you smile, the one that dances with you at every party.”
“Zuko,” you murmur softly, taken aback by his confession. He takes your surprise as rejection and looks down with a dejected smile.
“I know, we’re friends. It’s strange of me to think we could be more, but I just needed to tell you.”
“No, that’s not it,” you quickly correct him, “I-I’m just surprised because I didn’t think you felt the same way I did.”
"You mean… you like me back?” Zuko asks in disbelief.
“Of course I do! What’s not to like?” You tease with a smile. “All night I was hoping you’d come up to me, and even though Katara said I should be the one to make the first move I was too scared to try. I’m glad you told me because I feel the same.”
You feel as if your heart could burst when he carefully tilts your chin up to meet your lips in a kiss. Ever since he joined your group you’d wanted nothing more than for him to see you as you saw him, and after months of what you thought was one-sided pining it seems Zuko has felt the same way about you all along. It took some time for things to come out in the open, but now that they are you couldn’t be any happier.
And unbeknownst to either of you, Katara and Sokka share high-fives behind your back in celebration of their successful plan.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
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amiableness · 5 months ago
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Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1796
series masterlist ; main masterlist
“Y/n! You came!” Marlene exclaims, her eyes widening with surprise. Her usually confident demeanor melts into a mixture of shock and delight. Dorcas, sitting next to her, sends you a bright smile when she notices you. Lily practically flies off her barstool to give you a hug.
“You seem surprised.” You giggle as you pull away from the hug you just shared with Lily. Noting the genuine astonishment on Marlene’s face, you take in the lively atmosphere of the pub, which is buzzing with conversations and laughter, typical for a Friday night. You can’t remember the last time you went out with the girls; it’s been ages.
“Well, I mean, yeah, a little.” Marlene admits, shifting slightly on her barstool. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and glances around, almost as if she’s trying to ensure that you’re really there.
“Why’s that?” You ask, flagging the bartender down for a drink. The bartender, a tall guy with a friendly smile, nods at you in acknowledgment as he finishes serving another customer.
“You haven’t been out with us in ages.” She replies, a hint of concern creeping into her voice. Her eyes search yours, looking for an explanation.
“I’ve been busy, you know that.” You say, smiling softly. The pub is so loud that Marlene’s sigh goes unnoticed by you.
“With James.” Marlene says blankly. Dorcas sends her a look of caution. Your eyebrows furrow, and you look over at her in confusion and surprise.
“Um, yeah, of course. Who else?” You ask, sending her an odd look. It’s been clear since school days that you and James were close, so you aren’t sure why she seems annoyed by this.
“Don’t you think you’re spending a lot of time with him?” Marlene asks, bringing her drink up to her lips and looking at you over the rim.
“With James? I’ve always spent a lot of time with James.” You laugh, though you’re starting to feel like Marlene is about to interrogate you. You love her, but she never holds back from stating her opinion, and sometimes that puts you on edge. You prefer to avoid confrontation at all costs. The lively chatter and clinking of glasses around you only add to your growing discomfort.
“It’s true!” Lily chimes in, trying to diffuse the brewing tension. She broke up with James because everything for him always came back to you. Not that you knew that.
Marlene raises an eyebrow, clearly displeased with your answer. “I know, but lately it’s felt... more intense.” She admits, her voice lowering as if she doesn’t want everyone in the pub to overhear.
Dorcas, who has been silently observing, finally speaks up. “What Marlene means is that we miss you. It feels like we barely see you anymore, and when we do, it’s usually with James.” You and Marlene remain silent, merely staring at each other blankly.
Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest, and your voice takes on a challenging edge. “Intense? What do you mean by that?” Dorcas and Lily exchange uneasy glances. Girls’ night was not supposed to go this way.
Marlene raises an eyebrow, clearly incredulous. “He’s got Henry now.”
A waiter sets your drink on a napkin in front of you, and you offer a quick, grateful smile. When you turn back to Marlene, your smile has vanished. “And how does that affect anything?” You ask.
“It changes everything,” Marlene says sharply. “You’re playing house with James. That isn’t your responsibility. If James wants that, he needs to find a girlfriend.”
You scoff, “I’m his best friend. Of course, it’s my job to help him out.”
“But you’re not just helping him,” Marlene counters. “You’re practically Henry’s mum.” You stand there, rigid. “Look, I want the best for you. Spending your twenties raising another woman’s child isn’t how you should be spending them.”
Your head jerks back as if struck, and you pull your lips tight. “She gave up her rights. Henry is James’ son. If James doesn’t want me to help, he can tell me himself.” You sling your bag over your shoulder and down your drink. “And did you ever consider that this is how I want to spend my twenties? Being a part of their lives means everything to me. I’m sorry if you haven’t found someone you feel so strongly about.”
You’re so upset that you don’t even notice you’ve just confessed your feelings for James out loud for the first time.
By the time you reach James’ place, it’s well past midnight. The streets are quiet, and the only sounds are the occasional distant car and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Given that it’s a Friday night, there’s a strong possibility he’s already in bed, but you’re willing to take that risk. You know he might be asleep, but the thought of waiting until morning is unbearable.
It takes a second for him to open the door, but when he does he squints at you and glances back at the street in horror, “Did you walk-”
You interrupt, a bit impatiently, “You would tell me if you didn’t want me to help with Henry as much as I do, right?”
James studies you closely. Your hair is tousled by the breeze, and you’re huddled tightly into your jacket against the chill.The sight tugs at his heart, making him want to gather you close and warm you himself. He reaches out and gently pulls you inside, closing and locking the door behind you as you slip off your coat and shoes and place them in their rightful place.
When you look up, James stands there with his arms crossed, a concerned frown on his face. “Well?” you prompt. James sighs, clearly grappling with how to respond.
“Of course I would,” he says softly. “I’ve always appreciated your help. I’ve never once considered asking you not to help me.”
You hesitate, glancing at the three pairs of boots lined up by the door—James’s, yours, and Henry’s. “And you reallydon’t think I’m trying to be Henry’s mum?” you ask, your voice quiet and edged with tension. James follows your gaze to the boots, his expression neutral. He doesn’t reply immediately, simply looking back and forth between the boots and you.
“He calls you his mum.” James says finally, and your heart feels like it stops. The room seems to shrink around you as tears spring to your eyes without warning. You raise a hand to cover your mouth, afraid that a cry might slip out uncontrollably.
Your voice is barely a whisper, “He does?”
James nods, his gaze steady but gentle. “He has for a while now. But I asked him to keep it between us because I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” The soft light from the hallway lamp casts a warm glow on his face, and the quiet of the roomfeels heavy with the weight of his words. If you weren’t so overwhelmed with emotion, you might have noticed that he took your advice to turn off the overhead lights and use a lamp instead.
A tear slowly traces its way down your cheek, and James catches sight of it instantly. His expression softens with concern. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.” You say gently.
There’s a pause between you both. You struggle to keep yourself composed, while James fights the urge to reach out to you. Neither of you is succeeding.
“Y/n,” James says, stepping closer with a hesitant expression. “You can tell me to forget it if this sounds strange, but—”He trails off, his gaze dropping to the floor as he nervously fiddles with his glasses. The soft hum of the heater fills the silence. “I don’t think you’re trying to be Henry’s mum. I think you already are.”
Your gaze snaps up to him, tears streaming freely down your face and leaving damp trails on your cheeks. “James, you can’t just say that. When you get a girlfriend and it gets serious—”
“Darling,” he interrupts gently, his hand coming to rest reassuringly on your arm. “Why do you think I haven’t gotten myself a girlfriend after all these years? Henry’s about to turn four.”
You sniffle, “I—I don’t know. I just thought you were waiting for the right person, someone who would be a good fit for both you and Henry.”
“I have been.” He says, stepping closer until you’re nearly chest to chest. His gaze locks with yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. The soft light from the lamp casts a gentle glow on his face, accentuating the earnestness and vulnerability in his eyes. Your stomach tightens at the sight of the tenderness in his gaze—eyes soft and honeyed.
“Jamie—” you whisper, but your voice trails off as you feel his hand settle on your hip, pulling you gently against him. Your heart pounds so fiercely that you’re sure he can feel it if he presses any closer. The space between you seems to shrink, the air thick with unspoken feelings.
“What, darling?” He murmurs, his voice barely more than a breath as he leans in. His lips, pink and slightly parted, are just inches from yours. The warm, intimate proximity makes you ache to close the gap and kiss him, yet a flicker of doubt makes you hesitate, wondering if you’re misreading the depth of the moment.
You barely have time to process your doubts before James leans in and presses his lips against yours. The kiss starts offtentatively, allowing you the space to pull away if you need to. But you rise onto your toes and slip your right hand into his soft curls, guiding him closer with a gentle pull. The deep, passionate groan he releases sends a rush of warmth through you, making your head spin.
His fingers find yours, and he intertwines them with a reassuring grip. He slowly walks you backward until your back meets the cool surface of the door.  The texture of the wood presses against your shoulders and the small of your back. Your bodies are pressed closely together, and your hands remain intertwined, resting next to your head on the door.
The kiss grows more intense with each moment. Your lips part, and James licks into your mouth, his tongue moving with an urgency that’s both surprising and exhilarating. His left hand comes up to hold your jaw, his thumb pressing into your cheek, holding you steady as he continues to kiss you. The soft whimpers and moans that slip past your lips are pathetic.
When he finally rests his forehead against yours, sending you a breathless, knowing smile, it becomes clear that you’re completely done for.
please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍
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ellecdc · 6 months ago
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Hi!! I’ve been reading your poly!marauders x femreader and was wondering if you could possibly write about the reader having a vision while being with only the marauders, and how they would react and help reader without Barty or Reggie being there to help her? Maybe the vision can be another cute moment with the boys and reader not wanting to tell them what she saw and trying to walk away but they stop her and eventually get it out of her? Also,I love how you write the characters and portray their relationships :) Thank you so much!!!
This ended up a bit angstier than you had requested? But I think our girlie-pop needs to work through some of her shit before we’re really leaning into the cutesy stuff so I hope this works for now! It’s not like I’ve already got the next part planned or anything…….. 👀😅
poly!marauders x seer!reader where they witness her first Sight alone
CW: fem!reader, angst? w/ a happy ending, hurt/comfort, reader still stubborn as all hell, boys still relentless as ever - but we’re getting somewhere folks!!
There was no sense in feeling agitated with the Marauders; you noticed a simmering resentment bubbling up within you whenever your mind began to stray towards them, but it could hardly be considered their fault.
Just one of the many consequences of the ability of Sight; gradual feelings forming over ideas and thoughts and imagines that aren’t real, haven’t happened, and may never happen. There was an undeniable soft appreciation - dammit, maybe even love - for the three boys growing in your heart, but it hurt.
It hurt because it was an outcome of experiences that they haven’t had, that they haven’t shared with you; it was simply feelings for versions of these boys that don’t even exist yet.
But it was becoming difficult to separate your Sights of them from them; it was becoming harder and harder to remind yourself that the love you were feeling wasn’t real, at least not yet.
Yet.
That was the worst part - yet - seeing as none of these supposedly sweet moments taking place between you and the boys have ever really taken place, save that one of your impromptu Hogsmead date.
And whatever agitation you felt only tripled when you heard their voices in the library and your face broke out in an involuntary smile.
Stupid lovesick girl.
“There’s our princess!” Sirius cheered loudly as he spotted you, earning him more than a few severe glares from surrounding tables as he sloppily (and loudly) plopped himself onto the bench at the table across from you.
“Do try not to get us kicked out when we’ve only just found her, yeah?” Remus muttered quietly, though he seemed no less pleased with his boyfriend despite his scolding.
Sirius made a dismissive scoffing sound as Remus took a seat beside him and James across from him (and, decidedly less importantly, beside you). “I’d like to see them try; my family paid for this sodding library.”
“Charming, Black.” You muttered as you kept your face pointed towards the notes in front of you.
From your periphery you could see Sirius flash you a salacious grin; all sharp canines and cocky attitude. “Thanks dolly; I think so too.”
“You’re exhausting.” You let out with a sigh.
“I have been told I’m ex-”
“-Exhilarating, we know.” James finished for Sirius, seemingly already knowing exactly what the boy was going to quip.
“See? Everyone agrees.”
“Feel free to ignore him.” Remus interjected then, looking at you softly.
So softly. In ways you’ve Seen him do many times but have never yet experienced.
It made you ache with want; wanting so badly for it to be real and then hating yourself for wanting it at all.
“You okay, dove?” He asked then; apparently seeing the conflict on your face.
And wasn’t that just the icing on the pastie.
“No, actually, I’m not.” You huffed as you began to pack up your things.
Sirius said your name then; all teasing and flippantness gone from his tone as he sat up straight. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“No.” You grumble; standing now but closing your eyes and pointing your face to the ceiling in frustration.
‘It’s not you, it’s me’ sits on the very tip of your tongue, threatening to spill out but you just can’t bring yourself to release the words.
You hate this feeling; the lack of control in the direction that your life was seemingly going, moving through the motions unwillingly as fate pulled on the strings of your soul like some poorly mistreated puppet.
“Don’t go.” James all but whispered then; his hand seemingly aching to reach for yours but clearly resisting the urge.
That only made you feel worse.
You let out a breath and started to lower yourself back to your seat on the bench when you recognized the familiar feeling of your consciousness being pulled elsewhere; the dreaded sensation of being submerged under cold water followed by the neurons firing in your brain as they were gently plucked from their existing pathways and ushered towards a new reality.
No, you begged hopelessly, not here, not now.
Your vision blurred through the tears that threatened to spill from them; placing your elbows on the table in front of you so roughly that it left your fingertips buzzing, you covered your face behind your hands and fought to steady your breathing.
“You’re okay, dove.” Remus whispered from across the table; his leg under the table creeping over to apply pressure to the inside of your calf. You were thankful for the grounding it provided.
“Can you look at me, sweetness?” Sirius asked quietly as James tried pulling gently at your arm.
You shook your head quickly and tried to say no, but all that came out of your mouth was a choked sob.
“Okay, that’s okay.” Sirius relented evenly as James moved his hand from your forearm to rest gently between your shoulder blades where it began making soothing swipes against your jumper. “You’re alright, yeah?”
All he got was another sob in response.
You felt James shift in his seat; legs straddled over the wooden bench so he was now facing you.
“C’mere angel.” He cooed at you, gently yet firmly encouraging you into his chest by a hand on your shoulder.
You melted into him.
“You’re alright; you’re just fine.” He said again.
You flinched slightly when you felt a gentle hand grip your ankle.
“Sorry, dovey.” Remus murmured softly, rubbing his thumb over your Achilles tendon apologetically before pressing it to a soft spot on the outside of your ankle.
“Come back to us, pretty girl.”
Your knees buckled beneath you as you nearly fell into your seat; two strong arms quickly caught you by your elbows before James carefully lowered you to the bench.
“Easy, doll.” Sirius coached calmly albeit worriedly from across the table as you heaved in a much needed breath. “Easy.”
You felt your sinuses swell as you took a few more breaths, realising belatedly that you had three boys that you were rather quite taken with staring at you in one of your most vulnerable states.
They already had so much of you - much more than they may ever know - you didn’t want to give them this, too.
Your vision blurred through the tears that threatened to spill from them; placing your elbows on the table in front of you so roughly that it left your fingertips buzzing, you covered your face behind your hands and fought to steady your breathing.
“You’re okay, dove.” Remus whispered from across from you; his leg under the table creeping over to apply pressure to the inside of your calf. You were thankful for the grounding effect it provided.
“Can you look at me, sweetness?” Sirius asked quietly as James tried pulling gently at your arm.
You shook your head quickly and tried to say no, but all that came out of your mouth was a choked sob.
“Okay, that’s okay.” Sirius relented evenly as James moved his hand from your forearm to rest gently between your shoulder blades where it began making soothing swipes against your jumper. “You’re alright, yeah?”
All he got was another sob in response.
You felt James shift in his seat; legs straddled over the wooden bench so he was now facing you.
“C’mere angel.” He cooed at you, gently yet firmly encouraging you into his chest by a hand on your shoulder.
You melted into him.
“You’re alright; you’re just fine.” He said again.
You flinched slightly when you felt a gentle hand grip your ankle.
“Sorry, dovey.” Remus murmured softly, rubbing his thumb over your Achilles tendon apologetically before pressing it to a soft spot on the outside of your ankle.
“Come back to us, pretty girl.” Sirius whispered.
“I’m sorry.” You admitted; voice pinched emotionally as you continued hiding behind your hands.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, lovely girl.” Remus assured you as James pressed a kiss to your hair. “Nothing at all.”
“I hate-” You paused around a pathetic hiccup as you finally deigned to pull your hands away from your now likely puffy and tear stained face. “I- I just-”
“You don’t have to explain.” Sirius offered at your next hiccup. “Just keep breathing.”
You realised only as Remus resumed moving his thumb back-and-forth against your ankle bone that he had paused to track your pulse much like he’d seen Regulus do that first day in the Great Hall.
A bitter taste filled your mouth when you thought of that Sight too; how much of your supposed ‘relationship’ with these boys would be of you breaking down in front of them?
“I hate seeing things that aren’t real; that haven’t happened, with versions of people who don’t even exist yet.”
James let out a sympathetic breath at your words as Remus’ brows furrowed forlornly.
“Do those versions not exist yet or have you just not given them a chance to?” Sirius asked you slowly.
You made a pained sound as you straightened from resting against James’ chest; you pretended not to notice the look of loss that crossed his face and ignored the same feeling aching within your chest.
“People can surprise you, y’know?” James offered then; hope colouring the vowels of his words as he spoke.
“I’m sure that, whoever they are,” Sirius started pointedly. “Would love the chance to be whoever you needed them to be.”
“That’s the problem.” You groaned, though you were sure they could tell that the fight was quickly oozing from your body with every swipe of Remus’ thumb or stroke of James’ hand against your shoulder blades. “I don’t need you to be anything.”
“So it was about us.” Sirius asserted; all caution vanished from his face and was quickly replaced with mirth.
You snorted incredulously at him and wiped roughly at your eyes as a reluctant smile spread across your face. “You are such a prat.”
“We could be your prats.” He quipped.
“Is that what you need, angel? Do you need some prats? Sirius and I are well versed; might need to coach Rem a bit but he’s a quick learner.”
“For Godric’s sake.” Remus sighed with a tired smile. “We’d been doing so well boys.”
“I hardly see how, seeing as you all made me cry.” You jeered as you pointed your nose in the air, causing all three boys to exclaim various objections.
“We’d only said hello.” James cried as Remus watched you stand and hike your bag over your shoulder thoughtfully.
“What was it that you Saw, then?” He asked; still smiling though his brows dipped challengingly.
You stared down at him for a few moments, though there was no need to search his eyes for clues; you suspected that he knew.
“This.” You admitted quietly.
A smile spread across Remus’ face; it was slow and pointed but you didn’t know quite what it meant. Yet.
“I’m glad I got to see it too.” He murmured with a smirk.
You tried to hide your blush as you left the library, fighting the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl the entire way back to your dorm.
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wandasdollie · 1 month ago
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  ꒰  𑄽୧ ꒱ 𓈒  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀bisou, bisou!  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀ ⠀𝜗𝜚  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀18+! men and minors dni.
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 .   ̣̣̣︶ ྀ pairing ˚ ۪ ݁ balletinstructor!wanda x ballerina!reader
꒰  tags ꒱ 𓈒  mommy!wanda ,  taboo - ish relationship , smut , fingering , r!receiving , wanda speaking french! ( lapine is bunny, and poupée is doll~!! )
 ꔫ  ࣪ ˖ a / n ⑅♡ ྀ˖ this is my first time writing for wanda , i do hope you enjoy!! based on my previous post!! i... have not proofread this... i am very sorry if it is a mess!!   ໒ ྀི>֯ . <ྀི֯ ̥ ︣ა
 ⁺ ⑅  ꫂ ၴႅၴ tag list ֯݁ต  @emiliaisdead ( pls comment if you'd like to be added~! )
“Bonne après-midi, ma lapine!”
You lift your nose from its position at your knee, lifting up and toward the position of the honey-coated voice. It comes as no surprise to you that your instructor stands at the door, her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her outfit consisting of several layers that she’s sure to ditch over the next few hours. She looks impossibly cozy, and though her nose is pink and her hair is a bit frizzy from a hat that she’s recently shed, she is the essence of winter comfort. She is shivering, as are you. You can think of nothing more than sitting in front of a fire with her, under a blanket with warm tea and cookies, spending your time only focused on your shared nearness. This time of year always floods your mind with these images, it can’t be helped. Alas, you stand in a room with only a few small space heaters to create warmth for your poor, frozen joints.
“Hello!” You smile in return. Ms. Maximoff has a penchant towards speaking in French in your presence, as if it is her little secret, one that she will never let you in on. You haven’t learned yet what her little teasing nicknames mean, but you have the context clues to know when she’s greeting you, which is just enough. You don’t really want to know what she’s calling you, it only adds to the tension of your already over-amorous relationship.
You have had an entirely debilitating crush on this woman for far too long, and it is not as though she is necessarily helping you shake it. She is incredibly affectionate towards you, and while it may seem to others in the room that you are nothing more than her favorite student— which you certainly are— Ms. Maximoff harbors those very same feelings for you. She just does not show it as easily as you do. Where you become a blushing, babbling mess, she is stoic, firm, though sometimes she cannot help the dimpled smile when she watches you dance. She has forced her own resolve around you so much that it is starting to crumble, her urges towards you harder to contain. She cannot conceal adoring looks nor wandering hands much longer.  
You slide into your next stretch, attempting a split, which you aren’t nearly warm enough for, and the exasperated sigh that leaves your lips turns a frown on Wanda’s gentle features. You’re not sure how she could have possibly heard it, but she definitely has, and makes her way to stand beside you, pulling gloves off of perfectly manicured hands.
“What’s wrong, poupée?” She speaks softly as she kneels to your side, a gentle hand caressing your thigh. She chews on her lower lip, and you each feel the ripple of nerves shoot through the tense muscle when she places her hand there. There’s simply no helping the buzz of butterflies in your tummy when you look up to meet her gaze in the mirror, the way she so intently watches you, how her thumb caresses you even though you’re wearing awfully thick sweatpants.
“I’m too cold,” you whine, voice a bit pathetic as you flop onto the floor, body naturally magnetized towards your instructor, subconsciously seeking her body’s warmth, her touch. You lower your gaze from the mirror and turn to face Wanda now, looking up to her as if by some magic she could instantly warm you, begging without words for her to wrap her arms around you and hold you close. You want nothing more than to slip your fingers under her large sweater and warm your freezing fingers, and that is just the same thing that Wanda seeks now. But she is in the position of a professional, of a teacher, that she must keep her head about her. That’s what she’s always had to remind herself, since the very first day you enrolled in her course.
 Needless to say, she’s found this very difficult.
Most difficult, that is, when you look up to her, eyes wide and pleading, fingers playing anxiously with the cotton of your own sweatshirt, legs spread so that Wanda sits perfectly between them. She juts out her lower lip a little, looking to you with the pity that you so deserve, and raises her own hand so that she may press the palm against your cheek. You lean into the touch so desperately, not minding that it is likely messing up your makeup— the makeup you always spend at least an hour perfecting before class, all so that she might compliment you like she is so apt to doing.
And it’s that very complimenting that Wanda is so desperate to do now, but she just must force herself not to. She will only look you over, soak in the image of the girl that so clearly longs to be loved, but will not allow herself anymore.
“Let me help,” she hums, voice impossibly smooth, dropped an octave from when she had first greeted you. Her thumb lightly washes over your skin before her hand drops, leaving a warm imprint on otherwise freezing flesh. Wanda backs up a little so that you may spread your legs even wider, a strained hundred-and-eighty-degree angle, though you press your palms into the floor, hovering a little as to ease some of the pain in your hips.
Wanda sidles herself behind you, enjoys all too much the way you chew on your lip, the way the veins in your neck ripple from the physical exertion. She won’t admit it to herself, but as much as she loves to see the smile on your bunny-pink lips, she adores to see you in the least bit of pain. A twinge sadistic, yes, but it’s a natural instinct that cannot be ignored. It is because she so yearns to be the one to ease your pain. She does not ever want to hurt you, will never hurt you, only wants to be the one to kiss you back to health when you’re sick, to put ice on swollen ankles.
She can’t help the craving hands that find themselves to your hips, their pressure firm, fingers threatening below the waistband of your sweatpants. You shiver when they do just that, finding their way onto the lowest part of your hip where your leotard meets tights, pressing you downwards ever so gently until you hit the floor. The stretch is entirely painful, though it’s a pain that’s all too close to being pleasurable. The extension of your muscles, paired with Wanda’s soothing touch, and her hot breath at the back of your neck, is all creating a swimming warmth within you far better than any heater could. The warmth has certainly concentrated right where your instructor’s hands lie now, the very inside of your thighs, the place that should hurt the absolute most, but with Wanda’s hands subtly massaging there, there isn’t a lot of pain at all.
“Good girl,” Wanda hums softly, releasing your thighs, sliding her hands up your side until they land against your back, lightly tracing the brocade velvet lacing of your backless leotard. She smiles to herself, counting the few freckles of your skin, knowing they won’t be gaining any new friends in the next cold months. “So pretty…” She whispers to herself, sure you can’t hear her for the way you count quietly to yourself. She adores it, the way your lips track numbers all throughout class, a very random quirk that you’ve never been aware of, yet it is one of Wanda’s favorite things about you.
You finally quit, swinging your legs forward, nearly falling back into Wanda in the process. In fact, your lack of balance has prompted her hand back to your hip, holding you firmly as you sit up, posture never faltering for the good ballerina that you are. Just as you are about to turn to thank Ms. Maximoff, whose leg has outstretched to mirror your own, to elongate your touch as much as she can, you hear a few chattering voices come down the hall. Wanda sighs softly, always a little too angry when other students dare interrupt your more intimate moments, but stands anyway. This is not before she gives your hip a small squeeze, and when she stands, she gently leaves her hand on top of your hair, gazes at you through the mirror. She could easily stare at you like this for the rest of time, and you her, but you both must move on, must find places at the barre, must move on with your lives. When the few students finally make their way into the classroom, Wanda winks at you before abandoning you in the middle of the floor, leaving so that she can fix her hair and check over her notes for today’s class.
The class is similar to every other that you’ve ever had, though not at all tedious. You do your warm-up as usual, practice for an upcoming recital, try some new things that Wanda has planned. She, as usual, uses you as an example, the teacher’s good little pet who always knows just what she’s talking about, can always maneuver through a combination with ease with only verbal instructions. You constantly worry this will make your fellow peers dislike you, but it is not their approval which you seek. And the way that Wanda always smiles and claps her hands when you’ve finished is more than enough. You have become a girl only living for Ms. Maximoff’s praise, always seeking it, always doing all you can to get it.
Today, you stand at the very far end of the barre, your back to wall instead of any other students, and Wanda certainly takes advantage of this. She lingers near you for far too long, gently pinching the flesh at your hip to make you giggle far too loudly, taking your sweatpants from you when you grow too warm, whispering dirty little phrases to you which make you blush deeper than a tomato. At least, you think they’re dirty. She speaks French, so you’re not entirely sure what it is she teases you with, but of course you blush and hide your face anyway. And, while they are often quite naughty, Wanda often finds herself whispering utter nonsense, be it a lyric to a song stuck in her head or the name of a French pastry she’s craving, just to see the way your knees lose balance. She has never once in her life been a tease, but for some reason, she just cannot help it. She loves to watch you squirm.
The class is over far too quickly for your liking. It always is. Though you spend nearly half of your week’s hours in this studio with Ms. Maximoff, it never ever feels like enough time. You always return home to an empty apartment, prepare yourself a meal that you’re sure Wanda would prepare far better, and do nothing but sulk until you can return to her side. You pull on your sweatpants and thickest wool socks, intentionally taking a very long time so that the other students will leave you and Wanda alone, so that you may have even a minute longer to spend together, to talk about whatever it is she wants to talk about.
“Is that all you have to wear?” Calls that sweet voice, head tilting to the side, sheer worry present on her features. “No wonder you’ve been so cold! You poor thing…” Wanda comes to your side, eyebrows knitted as she tugs lightly on your sweatshirt, looking around the floor, but no winter coat to be seen.
“Oh, I’ll be alright… The bus ride home is short!” You smile sweetly, eyes scrunching a little to convey how happy you are that she’s worrying over you. She evidently cares so much for you, and the fact that she does makes your heart swell oh so much. It’s not often that someone looks after your needs, until Wanda began doing all of the worrying for you.
Wanda is clearly displeased, her hands drifting from only grabbing the fabric of your sweatshirt to holding the body that it conceals, squeezing gently at your hips as she is so regularly prone to. She adores the way you feel in her grasp, so malleable yet firm with muscle, her own little doll. That is, after all, what she so frequently calls you without your knowing.
“This won’t do…” She mumbles softly to herself, shaking her head a little, her discomfort over your own cold growing so great that she cannot focus. She does, eventually, shake it, once you’ve ensued her several times that you have a pair of gloves in your bag that you fully intend on wearing.
“I worry for you, my darling.” Wanda sighs gently, lifting one hand to push a hair out of your face that’s finally fallen from sweat penetrating hair gel. Her hand lingers for perhaps too long, the pads of her fingers stuck to your skin as though by glue. It could be minutes, hours, that you stand like this, the only sound a clock ticking in the distance, the entire building emptied for the evening. Though your mind is empty, barely able to focus, eyes only barely glancing at Wanda’s so perfectly sculpted features with all the amorousness in the world, she is busy considering. She is thinking of all the ways that doing what it is she wants to do will hurt you, will get you both in trouble, will ruin what is already such a wonderful thing you share.
Eventually, her heart wins the battle, and she gently tugs against your cheek, reaching so that your lips connect. Though the heaters in the room have turned off, she is so impossibly warm. Her lips, the matte pink becoming messy from the fervor of her kisses, are hot against your own, which have already begun their winter chapping, but Wanda does not notice. Even if she did, she would not care. She kisses you with so much passion you would believe it has been building up for years.
You lift your hands as well, and they settle on her hips, tugging gently at her leggings, which are so tight and accentuate her curves so well that you find yourself at her for far too long. Her body is such a source of distraction for you, that you often seem spaced-out in the middle of class when, in reality, you are simply entranced by the subtle swing of your instructor’s hips as she walks. You grip her waist now, though your fingers have grown cold again so much so that they barely find the grasp that they so desperately want. You have spent far too long wanting this very touch, wanting to feel the weight of Wanda’s chest against you so desperately, the warmth of her tongue forcing apart your lips. You have spent so long wanting this, that its final arrival has overwhelmed you all too much.
Wanda pushes you backwards until your back hits the wall, a bit uncomfortable for the way that the barre forces a curve in your spine, but Wanda’s hands coax you into comfort. Her hands stray beneath your sweater, looking for any flesh beneath the skin-tight leotard and tights that you wear, incredibly frustrated at the lack of touch. She wants nothing more than to strip you of your clothes, to replace them with her hands, but is not quite sure that you are entirely alone, so instead snakes her hand under material the best she can, kneading the flesh that she is able to, pressing her warmth there.
You are practically helpless under her dominating hold, her weight over you, combined with her desperate kisses, nearly suffocating, but you do not mind one bit. You are hers to grope as she pleases, high from her vanilla perfume, your own hands seeking her own skin beneath her layers of athletic clothing.
You whine gently when she pulls her mouth from your own, her lips shining from your lip gloss, though you cannot admire them for long before she attaches them to your neck, gently licking you there while your head throws back, gently hits the wall beside you. Wanda has positioned herself so that her hips align perfectly with yours, though she stands between your legs, one of which has lifted to wrap around her, pulling her ever closer. Your hips have begun to buck as if on instinct, which only makes Wanda laugh softly, has her hands grabbing at you, assisting in your desperate rocking for pleasure.
“Does that feel good, princess?” She whispers roughly against your ear, though her voice still carries her signature sweetness, only a bit lower, darker.
You nod quickly, words not forming in your throat, hands flying up to tangle in her hair, and though you’re barely thinking clearly, you force the hair tie out, allow her strawberry curls to fall over her shoulders, so that you may cling onto her hair. Wanda adores the small whimpers that fly from you, but she forces her hand up to cover your mouth, to muffle your perverted little moans that echo in the room.
“The door is still open, lapine,” she whispers again, her breath bated and shallow. “Don’t want anyone to catch us.” Wanda lifts her head, looks into your eyes until you nod your understanding, and she drops her hand. “Good girl.”
When her hand drops from your mouth, it drops back to the waistband of your sweatpants, which she slides beneath, finds the spot in your panties that has grown so wet that it has soaked through your leotard. This makes her grin against the skin of your collarbone which she has begun attacking with her kisses, her teeth grazing against what is sure to become a dark bruise come morning. She presses gently against your clothed cunt, fingers slipping beneath the leotard yet still barriered by tights and panties. She is angered by this, yes, but the way you begin to moan from even her smallest presses to your clit makes Wanda dizzy from need. After a moment of finicking she is able to rip a small hole in your tights, the material so thin that it does not take much effort. She makes a mental note to buy you another pair.
Wanda finally pushes away your underwear, once again smiling into your skin when she finds that it is so very lacy, not at all what she would expect for a two-hour long ballet class. She does not know that she is the very reason you’ve chosen this pair, that for some sick reason you always dress from head to toe the way you’d want her to see you, including underwear and lacy bra, no matter how unlikely it is for her to see it.
The feeling of your warmth elicits such a deep moan from Wanda that it forces one of your own, which you end abruptly for the way that your breath hitches when she slides one finger inside of you. She whispers something once again, again speaking in the language that makes your knees incredibly weak, but that does not matter for the way that Wanda holds you so tight. Her finger pumps into you so gently, as though you are made of porcelain and might break if she does any more. And though her kisses are so fervent and her grip on you is so strong, she holds you delicately, like you are just a sweet little thing for her to take care of, not only the subject of her lust.
“Can you take another?” She muses, voice salaciously kind, so protective and dominating as she presses a few gentle kisses to your jawline. You can only nod in answer to her question, your hands falling once again to grab at her ass, to pull your bodies closer both by your hand and the leg that has hooked around her waist.
Wanda does as she’s promised, though her pace is still slow, still coaxing the small, high-pitched moans from your lips as she desires. Your muscles are incredibly tense, and though you’ve spent the past hours warming and moving them, you feel so shell-shocked with pleasure that your body is hardly able to move, other than the instinctual rocking of your hips.
“Look in the mirror, princess.” Wanda whispers into your own lips before placing a kiss to them. “I want you to see how good Mommy is making you feel.”
The nickname that she’s claimed for herself has sent another shock of pleasure through you, the butterflies in your stomach only heightening in their flapping. You flutter your eyes open as instructed, always the most obedient for Ms. Maximoff, and though your eyes are blurry, you find yourselves in the mirror.
The image, Wanda enveloping you, her focus so intense on fucking you, her hair messy down her back, the sleeve of her sweater all bunched up around her elbow, makes you tense up. You’ve never felt anything quite like it, and as Wanda’s thumb gently caresses your clit, you feel all of your muscles tense, your squeezing of her ass sure to leave some sort of bruise of its own. Wanda gently kisses you a few more times, her lips grown swollen from the dedication of her kisses. Her fingers continue to glide into you, as she allows you to ride her until your body grows overtired from it and falls limp against the wall.
“Good girl,” Wanda repeats, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek before she backs up only a little, looks over you, sees how flushed your skin has become, how heavy your eyelids are. She adores the little mess of a girl she’s made of you, and as she removes her hand from your pants, licks it clean, she cannot help but feel proud of herself.
By the time you open your eyes, Wanda has returned to her typical worrying self, though she looks so impossibly relaxed. Her skin is pink from your shared warmth, her lipstick so very messy, it makes you giggle a little.
“Please, let me drive you home?” She practically begs, but you take no convincing. You assess your appearance for only a moment before racing to her side, looping your arm around hers and grabbing your bag. You shyly press a kiss to her cheek as you step out into the winter, the air bitingly cold, yet you don’t feel it, for your entire body is still radiating from Wanda’s heat.
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deathbyday · 2 months ago
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˚ 𖥔˚Anya x implied f!Reader - sticking up for her˚ 𖥔˚
Written By: DeathByDay
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You sat around the lounge room’s table with the rest of the crew. Anya sat to your left, her hands intertwined with yours on her thigh. Swansea was just right across from you, Daisuke beside him. Curly and Jimmy sat on the ends of the table, staring at each other.
You all had just gotten word from Curly that Pony Express has finally shut down and this would be the last time the crew was together. Everyone became upset at the news, rightfully so, but Jimmy was angry.
He ranted about how Curly was selfish and heading for “bigger and better” than the five of you. You raised a brow, realizing how idiotic this fight between the two became.
You weren’t going to say anything about it, but that backfired when Jimmy began going around the table stating everyone’s struggles. And of course, he just had to start with your girlfriend.
“Anya never got into medical school because she’s, well, let’s be real..” He trailed off, glancing at the poor girl. He turned to you and opened his mouth to speak, but you immediately cut him off.
“Oh, fuck you, Jim!” You shouted, slamming your hands on the table and standing up. You pointed a finger towards him, continuing on. “You don’t have any right to go around the table saying that shit. What about you? Why don’t you share with all of us what Curly meant by a ‘struggle of a life’?”
You glared at the man, your eyes full of hatred. His brows furrowed even more as he stood up, his voice rising to match your energy.
“Who the fuck do you think you are to shout at me like that?” He yelled, his body acting like it was ready to pounce on you. “Don’t ignore my question!” You replied, voice raising. Everyone else stayed silent, watching the two of you argue.
That was until you eventually ran around Anya’s chair and slapped the brunette across the face, causing him to push you. You gripped his hair and slammed him into the ground with all your force, not thinking about how much more strength he had than you.
You two continued fighting, punches and kicks being thrown around. Daisuke had his hand clasped around his mouth in shock, looking like he was about to burst into tears and giggle like a kid.
Curly got up from his seat and shouted at the both of you in attempt to stop the fight, but failed miserably. As his attempted failed, Swansea stood up and grabbed you from underneath your arms and dragged you back, stopping the chaos.
“C’mon, kid!” He muttered a bit loudly, struggling as you fought back. Anya stood by the older man, a few tears in her eyes. As Swansea let you go, you were about to pounce on the brunette once again, but your girlfriend held you down by placing her hands on your shoulders.
“Y/N, stop!” She scolded, her grip tightening. You glanced up at the woman, obeying her order. You turned back towards Jimmy, seeing his face bruised up. You lightly chuckled, knowing that you fucked his face up.
Anya helped you up before dragging you away from everyone, walking to the medical room.
“Baby, I’m fine..” You muttered, dragging out your words as if you were pouting. She shook her head, concern written all over her face. “No, you aren’t. Your face is all bruised, not to mention the blood coming out of your nose.” She replied. She seemed mad, but her features told a different story.
After a few seconds of walking, you finally got to the medical room. You sat down in the red chair beside her desk, waiting for her to get the supplies to help you. She quickly grabbed them and set them down on the table.
She brung a few tissues that were wrapped around each other and pressed them against your nose, stopping the bleeding. You groan, feeling the red liquid drop onto your lip. “You shouldn’t have done that.” She mumbled, shaking her head in disappointment.
“But he came at you for no reason! I can’t just not step in.” You defend yourself, slightly giggling as you recall his bruised face. She sighed, taking the tissue away from your nose.
She then grabbed an ice pack, placing it against your cheek. You grumble, squirming in your seat at the new temperature. “Do you really think this is necessary? I swear, I’m fine.” You pout, feeling uncomfortable as she held you in place.
“This is necessary. If we don’t get this treated, the bruising can get worse.” She explained, gently tapping the ice around your face. You nod, taking a glance around the room as she did so.
After a few minutes, she pulled away, causing you to turn to her. “Did I do good?” You murmur, hoping for her praise. She fights back a smile and gives you a light chuckle. She places her hands on her hips before exhaling, the worry in her face gone.
“You did great, honey. Just please promise me you won’t pick a fight with anyone else? We really don’t need you getting fired.” She smiles down at you, bending over and giving you a light kiss on your forehead before leaving the room, taking the ice pack and extra tissue with her to deal with Jimmy.
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authors note
I’m so sorry if this isn’t as good as you were expecting, my eyes are literally fighting to stay open💔
But thank you for the request!! I appreciate it very much<3
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luveline · 7 months ago
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more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!
you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k
Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure. 
You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips. 
“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.” 
You step over it and almost slip. 
“Careful,” someone says. 
You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.” 
Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably. 
“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you. 
“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?” 
“Let me help you with this.” 
Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock. 
“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down. 
“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?” 
“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.” 
You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving. 
He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.” 
“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack. 
“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.” 
You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 
“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.” 
“Oh, sure. Of course.” 
“You haven’t heard it yet.” 
You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…” 
“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.” 
You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested. 
You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.” 
“You want to show them off?” he asks softly. 
His voice is velveteen. 
“Is that awful?” you ask.
“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.” 
“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.” 
He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says. 
“You’re welcome.” 
“Can I pay you back?” 
You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist. 
Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive. 
“How would you do that?” you ask. 
“Is there anything else you… need help with?” 
A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too. 
“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.” 
He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.” 
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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months ago
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Dreams, A Nightmare and A Kiss
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> After you have a dream about Logan, your brain can't seem to forget it. And neither will Logan.
Disclaimer: Descriptions of torture, crying, a creepy guy. Apart from that, teasing, fluff, a little dash of steam at the end. Not Proof Read
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You kept having this recurring dream. Or maybe it was a nightmare. It was hard to tell. What do you call it when, what seems like a dream, turns into a very awkward situation where you don’t know what to do with yourself when you wake up? 
Do you try to forget it ever happened? Do you talk to someone about it? Do you talk to the person about it? Are you meant to talk to the person about it? Or would consulting a psychiatrist be easier, considering the person who you dreamt about…was not someone you would, or even should be dreaming about?
“Morning.” 
Storm placed down her coffee on the table before pulling out her chair. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“What?”
Storm pointed at you, “You look like you’re thinking too hard.”
“Too hard for this early in the morning,” you mumbled. 
“Well, then, talk to me. Maybe I can help.”
“I don’t think even the world's best psychiatrist can help me with this one.”
Storm shrugged. “Maybe you don’t need the world’s best. Come on, try me.”
You took a moment and looked at Storm. Maybe it was worth a go…
“Okay,” you sighed. Storm got comfortable in her seat and leaned forward. Meanwhile, you practically had to pull your legs under the table and untrap your hands from between them. 
“I had a dream.”
“You had a dream?”
You nodded, trying your best to look her in they eyes when you spoke. Was you really going to admit this outloud to someone? 
“I had a…dream.”
It took her a minute. “Oh…oh. Okay, well anyone will tell you that’s normal. Healthy even. You know, sometimes-”
“About Logan.”
Storm faltered and then came to a full stop, her hand still in the air and her jaw slacked. “Logan.”
Storm spoke slowly as she looked at you, trying to gauge if this was some big prank you were playing on her. It wasn’t April. 
“L…ogan?” She asked this time, just to be sure. 
You nodded. 
“Our Logan?”
“Do you know any other Logan’s?”
Storm shook her head and blinked her eyes for one second too long before coming back into movement. “No, I guess not. So…what’s the issue?”
You looked at her like she was both crazy and confusing. “You don’t see the issue?”
Storm shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “Not particularly. I mean, it is a little odd considering…well considering you two aren’t the most…harmonious.”
“Understatement.”
And it was. 
Both yourself and Logan, although civil most of the time, weren’t exactly known for being best pals. 
“So what was it about?”
“Ororo!”
She just smiled, “What? I want to know. How was it?”
“I…I can’t answer that.”
“Sure you can! Oh, come on, Y/n. You can’t tell a girl you and Logan shared…something and not tell her about it.”
You sighed, “Yes, I can.”
“Oh my god,” Storm smiled, leaning back in her chair. “You liked it.”
“What?” You could practically feel your face bursting into flames. “N-no. No I didn’t.”
But she just laughed in response. “You sooo totally want it to happen in real life.”
“Want what to happen?” 
You practically squealed with fright as both you and Storm sat straighter in your chairs and turned to see Logan walk through the door and over to the coffee machine. 
“Uhhh, nothing. Nothing at all. How did you sleep?”
From pouring coffee, Logan repeated your question. “How did I sleep?”
You nodded, willing the redness from your face to disappear. The grip you had held on the back of your chair as you twisted your body was growing stronger by the minute. 
“Yeah.”
Logan placed the coffee pot back in its place and looked to Storm. “Is she okay?”
Then you felt yourself go back to normal. “I’m fine, Logan.”
Logan looked back at you. The general look of disgust and disinterest, a little more prominent on your face. 
“I slept fine.” Logan answered. Then his face turned into a grin he was holding back. Well. Trying to hold back. “How did you sleep, Y/n?”
Storm watched your eyes widen for a second and the blush heated your face once more. “Fine.” you were forced out. 
Logan just nodded and sipped his coffee. “And you? Storm?”
“Like a baby.”
Logan nodded and smiled. “Good. Good.”
Then the bell went. “I better get going. I guess I’ll see you later. Or should I say tonight?”
Logan watched as your face twisted from nothing, to confusion, to shock to embarrassment to…turning around and hiding it completely. 
“Have a nice day, ladies.”
Covering your face, you hid it on the table, letting your muffled voice speak out from your arms as Storm placed a hand on your back. “How much do you think he heard?”
“Not much…I think.” Storm looked behind her, a pained look on her face for you. “If he had heard it all, he would have gloated more.”
You gave a whimper in pain and Storm placed her hand on the back of your head. “It shouldn’t be too bad.”
“It’s Logan.”
“Okay, so you’re screwed.”
Thankfully, you had managed to avoid Logan all day. Jean had found you hiding in the teacher’s lounge when you knew Logan was teaching. Even him thinking you were alone in your classroom was hard enough. 
“You don’t have anything that could reverse time? Or make me forget all of today?”
Jean smiled, “No. I don’t think so. But Storm told me what happened.”
“Oh, God.” You groaned, placing down your food by your feet and burying your head by your knees. “How many people know?”
“Just me and Storm,” Jean assured you. “And Logan,” she added. 
You groaned again. 
However, now that everything was finally silent, you took time to breathe. Maybe Logan would finally drop it. 
Not that he had said anything to you apart from that morning. But…it was Logan. When it came to you, he’d never let you live it down. 
Stepping a little higher on your feet, you reached into the back of the cupboard to try and find the last box of tea bags. Why Scott had been assigned to stock away the one thing he didn’t drink was beyond you. He always put it at the very back of everything on the top shelf of the cupboard. 
Not even on the first shelf at the back. 
No, he’d rather have you pull a muscle or get yet another bruise from the knobs on the oven. 
Finally reaching it, you stepped back and closed the cupboard door just as someone shouted your name. 
You let out a little scream that was followed by his laughter. 
“Logan! Jesus Christ.”
He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry. Was just too easy.”
You gave him a glare and bent down to pick up your box of tea bags before walking away to the other side of the kitchen where you had left the kettle by the sink. 
“It’s almost midnight. Don’t just sneak up on a girl like that.”
“Forgive me.” He was still smiling. Even with your back to him, you could tell. “But I figured you’d be busy dreaming about me.”
“Having a nightmare, more like.” 
“Oh, come on. You had a dream about me. Admit it.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes before pushing down the kettle lid and placing it back on its holder before flicking the switch on. 
“Oh, please. You just want to gloat.”
“No, no. Okay, maybe a little.” Logan lowered his hands before using them to lift himself onto the counter where you stood by the island, chopping up some carrots. “What are you? The Easter Bunny?” Logan lifted a piece before putting it back down. 
With the knife still in your hand, you made direct eye contact as you pushed the knife down hard, listening to the snap of the carrot before returning your gaze to it. 
“So…tell me.” Logan began, picking up yet another piece of carrot yet this time eating it. “What was it about?”
“What was what about?”
“Your dream.”
“Logan,” you sighed. 
“What? Oh come on, we both know you dreamt of me. You could at least tell me what it was about considering you didn’t ask for my consent.”
You looked at him for a moment before walking away, towards the kettle that had finished boiling. 
Pouring the hot water into the cups, back on the island, you returned the kettle to its place, allowing the bags to steep in the water for a while. 
“Come on, you know you want to tell me.”
“I don’t want to tell you anything.”
“Did we kiss?” Logan asked, trying to find his answers. “Did we have sex? Sorry, make love. Did we get married? Did we-”
You sighed, placing down the knife. “We did nothing, Logan. I had a dream. You just happened to be there.”
“So what happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
Logan gave a coy look and lent down a little so he was closer to you. “Something happened.”
“Nothing happened.” You pressed. “Trust me, if anything you just asked me happened between me and you in any capacity, I’d be calling it a nightmare.”
Logan pouted and held his hand over his heart. “Oh, how you wound me.”
“You’re a grown man, Logan. Deal with it.”
Logan laughed, taking a couple steps back. “Okay, okay. I’ll drop it.”
“Thank you.” 
“For now.”
Leaning closer to you and over you, Logan reached for the second cup you hadn’t realised you had made of tea and took a handful of carrots with him. 
You berated yourself for having closed your eyes for a split second, letting his touch warm you. 
Logan was not a man you should or would ever go for. 
But Storm was right. 
You did enjoy it. 
You just never wanted Logan to know that. 
Over the following days, you could feel Logan’s eyes on you wherever you went. From the both of you standing by your classroom doors, watching the kids leave your classroom and making sure the right ones came in. 
Some students recently had a tendency to swap certain classes for others. 
Or like when you were at dinner and sat outside. From the grass below where he was coaching a game of baseball, you caught him looking at you and smiling as he turned away. 
So, when you saw him again in the empty hallway, you pushed him inside the nearest classroom. 
At least, what you thought was the nearest classroom. Turned out to be a storage room for school supplies. 
“Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“I could ask you the same thing. You know, I think this is against the law, holding someone hostage inside a storage closet.”
“Every day this week, you’ve been staring at me. Why? Do I have something on my face? Or are you trying to see if you’ve suddenly developed telekinetic powers?”
Rather than replying, Logan just looked at you. Was he…studying you?
“You had another dream.”
You reeled back for a moment, trying your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Excuse me?”
Logan couldn’t help but smile. Or maybe it was a smirk. 
“You had another dream.” Logan repeated. “Was it any different, or was this just part two.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Logan shrugged. “It’s not every day you learn that someone is in love with you.”
You practically laughed. “In love? With you? Oh, that’ll be the day.”
Logan practically sang what he said next. “Oh, you are so totally falling in love with me.”
“Like hell.”
“Oh,” he laughed. “She’s already prepared the wedding vows.”
“I hate you.”
“Love you, too, Sweetheart.”
However, before you could reply to Logan’s statement, you both turned and found the door wide open. 
“Rouge,” you almost yelled her name in surprise. 
“Hey. Sorry about…interrupting. I just need some…” She pointed to behind both of you where the stack of boxed pencils were kept. 
Logan reached behind him and handed her a box. “Here you go, kid.”
“Thanks. I guess I’ll just uh…” 
Closing the door on both of you, she walked away, hearing a small thud on the door behind her. 
Little did she know it was your head. 
“Be careful, she might be thinking we’re doing something else in here.”
“I hate you,” you groaned. 
“Love you, too, Sweetheart.” Logan repeated, folding his arms and smiling. 
Turning the door handle, you swung open the door and walked out of it. 
It was halfway through the next day before you saw Logan, and it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you thought you next saw him. 
The heating on the top floor of the school; the floor which both yourself and Logan, along with a couple of other pupils happened to sleep on, hadn’t been working for a month. 
A trustworthy company couldn’t come out to inspect it for at least that time but now that they are finally here, part of you wished they hadn’t turned up at all. 
Because, for as much as you enjoyed talking to people, one of their tradesmen…you would have happily gone your whole life without ever having spoken to them. 
From the minute he walked in the door, he had been eyeing you up like you were his next meal. He always stood too close for comfort, trying his best to leave his hot breath behind your ear whenever he spoke which only made your skin crawl and when he blatantly started flirting with you…you more than obvious distance and replies of “No,” didn’t seem to do the trick. 
“I’m married.”
“I don’t see your husband anywhere, sweet cheeks. We could always get to know each other a little better, if you catch my drift.”
Then Logan turned down the hall. 
Finally spotting him, you gave a smile of relief. 
“Logan!”
He started walking closer to you. 
“Here he is, my husband,” you took him by the arm, putting him between yourself and one of the tradesmen. “Logan.”
Logan looked at you with a slightly confused look whilst you looked both scared, panicked (for two reasons) and was forcing a smile on your face the whole time. 
Logan took a breath and turned back to the tradesman who had everything, save from the actual word written across his head in bold ink, creepy going for him. 
“Can I help you?”
The guy practically tumbled back. “No, no. Just having a conversation. I guess I’ll get back to work.”
You watched as the guy tripped over his own feet trying to scurry away from yourself and Logan, neither of you missing the way the guy told two other workmates of his that you were, in fact, married. 
“Thank you. I’m sorry I dragged you into that but- Why are you smiling?”
Logan shook his head, standing in front of you, pressing his hands behind his back and bouncing on his feet. “No reason.”
You relaxed your face. “He was being a creep. What would you have had me do?”
“Come and got me.” Logan answered honestly. “But…I was right.”
“Right about what?”
“You had written the vows.”
With your arms crossed, your eyebrows relaxed as you looked at him. “I want a divorce.”
“Ooh, do you not remember, Sweetheart? That night you burned the marriage certificate?”
You started walking away. 
“What was it that you said?”
Logan followed after you. 
“Good luck returning me without the receipt. Now, that is better than Shakespeare, don’t you think?”
“I hate you.”
“See, I don’t think you do. Considering…”
“Considering what?”
“The fact that you keep dreaming about me.”
You sighed. “I already told you, it wasn’t about you. You were just in it.”
“Oh, that’s true love if I ever did see it.”
“Don’t you have a class to teach?” You asked as you turned into the kitchen. 
“I wonder what we did this time? Frolic on the beach? Have to say though, I’m not one to frolic anymore, but I could make an exception-”
You stuffed an apple into his mouth before turning to face him. “Remind me, how does the saying go again? An apple a day keeps your wife from killing you in your sleep?”
Walking away, you headed through the back doors and outside leaving Logan to bite down on his apple, all the while smiling. 
Something that you didn’t think through however, was having to keep the rouse up. And it wasn’t long before everyone knew. At least, all of the team knew. 
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Xavier said as he entered into the living room where you were sitting on one end of the sofa, curled up with a book, whilst Logan sat diagonal to you across the table, spread out, grading papers. 
“I have to say though, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”
Logan smiled, “That makes two of us.”
You just glared from over your book before going back to reading. 
“I have to say also, you both make a very cute couple. Of course, I was betting on it taking an extra couple of months.”
“I think Y/n helped to speed things up a little.”
You continued to glare. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“How could you tell?”
Rolling your eyes, you went back to trying to read your book. 
“Well, I suppose I best leave you both alone. What with you two still being in the honeymoon stage and all.”
Charles chuckled to himself as he left the room, not forgetting to shut the door behind him. 
You and Logan remained in silence for a while longer. However, Logan didn’t miss your gaze. Every couple of minutes you would look up and watch him. He could feel your eyes on him, heating his skin from under all his metal. 
“You know, if you didn’t keep staring at me every five minutes, you might have finished your book.”
“What?”
“Ooh, feigning disinterest. How original.”
After a moment, Logan stood and started walking over towards you. “You know, you could just ask.”
“Ask what?”
Logan sat beside you on the sofa, facing you, leaning in a little closer. “If that’s what it would be like?”
“If…what would be like what?”
Logan’s arms fell to either side of you on the sofa, caging you in. “If that’s what it would be like for us to be in the same room as each other without fighting. I’m sure you’ve thought about me once or twice. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
“Am I really that transparent to you?”
Logan practically smirked as his head tilted a little and he came closer to you. “You forget I can hear your heartbeat, Sweetheart.”
Your lips parted for a moment, feeling your heart rate increase even more. 
“I think you’re forgetting something else, too.”
“What’s that?”
Logan reached for you. Or rather, behind you. 
Pulling the cord, the lamp came on. 
“You hate me.”
That night, you lay awake in bed, wishing and hoping and praying on every goddamn star in the sky that you wouldn’t dream about him again. 
That you wouldn’t dream about the way his touch warmed yours, or how he would kiss you in all the right places, willing his name from your lips. That you wouldn’t dream about his arms wrapping around you or how, in a dark bedroom alone, you would hear the shower turn off only to have him emerge in a billow of steam like some kind of Greek or Roman God, just wrapped in a towel looking at you like…that. 
 That you wouldn’t dream about him in a way that you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge. That you wouldn’t want to outwardly and knowingly fall in love with him, and have him fall right back. 
But, of course, the wishing and the hoping and the praying didn’t work. 
Because when you next opened your eyes, you were left with the memories of a dream that included not only you teaching – like you did most days of the week – but the classroom emptying to allow both yourself and Logan some privacy where he placed his hand against your stomach and kissed you. “She’s got her daddy’s strength, all right. I feel like I’m being kicked by a horse.”
You woke up with the fading feeling of the gentle yet firm hand Logan had on your stomach, and your heart’s growth fading a little when you realised it was just a dream. 
For the fifth dream in the space of a week, you were beginning to think you were cursed. Or, at the very least, had a problem. 
However, it all changed when you woke up in a sweat. 
Finally, three days had passed and no dreams at all. Nothing to do with Logan. Not even a single thought whilst you were asleep. 
And then things grew dark. 
You had been running. For your life. All around you, stars were falling from the sky, hitting the ground and shaking it from beneath you. Each way you turned kicked dirt into your face, making it harder to breathe. Your lungs felt like they were on fire before you finally reached a set of metal doors. 
Inside, you ran around, dipping in and around different stacked crates, your head whipping around you trying to check all angles. “Where are you?” you kept asking yourself. “Please be here.” 
Then you found him. 
But you heard him first. 
A scream. 
Turning, the room turned with you until you found yourself in some kind of lab. Logan strapped to the table, and just as you stepped forward you found yourself being held back by two soldiers who had to be at least seven feet tall and six feet wide. 
No matter how you moved, you couldn’t. 
They were branding Logan. Burning him with needles and different iron poles and wires. He was screaming in pain, unable to turn his body away from it. 
“Stop! Stop! You’re hurting him! Please! Stop!”
But they couldn’t hear you. No glass was in front of you, but there might as well have been. 
“No! Logan! Please! Stop hurting! Just…Please!”
Logan now turned to look at you. And as he did, your heart broke. He wasn’t walking away from this one. Looking at you, you saw silent tears roll from his eyes and down his cheek. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”
“Logan…” 
Your body was becoming limp in the soldiers arms. 
“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’m-” With a hot iron rod to his back, he screamed out in pain trying to move away from it. 
You screamed again, willing them to stop hurting him. To hurt you instead. But they wouldn’t. It was killing you. And everyone could see that. Even Logan as he took his last look. 
You called out his name. 
And woke up, calling out his name as you threw yourself to sit up in bed. 
Around you, your entire room was cased in darkness save for the moon-light flooding in. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for you to make out the outline of your room and the things in it. 
It took you a moment to catch your breath long enough to find a clear head to know your body was moving. 
Pulling the covers from you, you made your way out of your room and down the hall before you found his room. Except, as your hand hovered over the knob, it swung open and you stepped back. Whatever breath you had caught in your room was once again gone. 
Logan stood, his eyes adjusting to the light from the hallway, shirtless. Along with the pyjama bottoms Rouge had given him in a set last Christmas. 
“Y/n…I was just coming to check on you. Are you-” 
Surprising Logan, and perhaps yourself, you hugged him. Tight. “Okay?” Logan finished his question but didn’t expect an answer. 
It took him a moment, but he quickly wrapped his arms around you. Even though he could, he didn’t need to hear your heartbeat to know you were nervous, scared and relieved all at the same time. You were still shaking and you were just starting to catch your breath again. 
“I heard you shout me…are you okay?” Logan asked in a soft voice. 
You just tightened your grip. “I thought….I thought…”
Logan shook his head. Feeling your heart bash against your rib cage and into his was enough to let him know now wasn’t the time. 
“You don’t have to explain right now. Come and lie down.”
And you did. 
Letting go of Logan for a moment, he led you inside, shutting the door behind him and lifting the covers for you to slide inside. 
He lay down next to you and held onto your hand, two fingers holding onto your wrist. 
He had more natural light in his room which allowed him to see you a little clearer in the dark as you lay and faced him. 
He pressed your hand over his heart and he spoke to you softer than he ever had before. 
“Just count my heartbeats.”
And you did. 
Logan began counting yours in his head as he held onto your wrist but soon lost count when your gaze eventually met his. 
Your heart rate eventually also began to slow. Rather than having it thunder against your chest, leaving both you and Logan wondering if some kind of Looney Tunes spell had been cast on the school which would make your heart physically leap out of your chest, it beat like normal. 
He watched as your eyes started to grow heavier before they finally closed and your breathing became even. And only once that happened, did he allow himself to relax. 
By the time you woke up, you found your own nose and forehead pressed lightly against Logan’s, your bodies naturally falling closer together as his hand held onto yours whilst his other was pressed under your neck and against your pulse point. 
Then you remembered last night. Your nightmare. Waking up in a sweat. Rushing down the hallway towards his room. Hugging him and never wanting to let go. His own heartbeat against the palm of your hand. His scent enveloping you whilst the heat from his body made you feel safe, warm and relaxed. 
“Hey,”
Softly, you brought your gaze back to Logan’s eyes. You never got to see this side of him. The fresh out of bed – in this case, in – look. 
“Hey.”
“Do you want to talk about last night?”
You swallowed lightly and shook your head. “It was nothing.”
“You had a nightmare.”
You looked away from him for a moment but felt his fingertips press into the back of your neck, begging you to look at him. 
“It wasn’t nothing. Please…talk to me.”
Your gaze flicked back and forth between his eyes, trying to get a read on him. 
He really wanted to know. 
“You died, Logan. At least…I think you did.”
And you went on to explain. About the running, the cave, the metal rods, the screaming, the shouting, the soldiers – all of it. 
Every final detail. 
“All I wanted was to get to you. To make it stop. But I couldn’t. You were screaming in pain and telling me you were going to be okay. I wanted to get you out- I needed to get you out. But every time I tried to move…”
Your voice broke, your eyes filled and Logan felt his own heart break looking at you. How he wished he could erase it. How all he wanted to do in that moment was erase away your pain. 
Logan shushed you a little before pulling his hand from yours that he had continued holding, to allow his arm to go around your back, pulling you flush against him. 
The hand that had been by your neck, pushed to the bottom of your hair line, his fingers tangling with your strands. 
With a pressed kiss to your temple, Logan shook his head. “It was just a nightmare. I’m here. You’re here. We’re both safe. Hey, hey.”
Logan pushed himself back for a moment to be able to look at you. His thumb traced under your eye, brushing the tears away before they could fall down your face. 
“At least this is how I find out, maybe you don’t hate me.”
You laughed a little at that. “You’re a jackass.”
“Maybe,” Logan shrugged. “But you’re in love with me anyway.”
With a scoff and a smile, despite how much you tried not to, you hit Logan in his chest. He chuckled softly for a moment, taking hold of your hand before you could do him any more bodily harm. 
Not that he probably even felt you hit him. He was 90% metal. It probably would bruise you if you actually hit him. 
But when Logan took your hand, things seemed to slow down. 
With his gaze on you, his fingers started tracing your hand. His thumb working its way from your wrist to your palm, all the while his fingers traced up and curled around your own before your hand was flush against his, your fingers only a movement away from falling and intertwining against his. 
And they did. 
Logan took a minute to look at where your hands joined and any control he had over his heartbeat disappeared into an oblivion. 
He looked back at you. 
His fingers locked with yours and you felt your body shift closer towards him. Not fully aware of his own body, Logan had leaned up a little further from his pillow and leaning in closer towards you. 
You were both hesitant, at first. Unsure of what was happening, but fully aware that it was. 
The kiss was soft. Unfamiliar. Neither of you had expected this to happen when you had woken up. In all honesty, neither of you had expected it to ever happen. 
Well, maybe your subconscious. 
But that was a debate for another time. 
However, as it came to an end, reality stuck Logan. He had kissed you. You had come to him because you had a nightmare. You had stayed by his side, in his room, for the rest of the night. And now he had kissed you. 
You were right. 
He was a jackass. 
“I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”
You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows. Your own internal monologue was having a whale of a time confusing you. Convincing you that the kiss didn’t happen. Then that was always meant to happen. That maybe…maybe it was always meant to feel like that. Or maybe it was never meant to feel like that. 
“Logan…”
For a brief moment, Logan looked confused. Were you going to yell at him? Curse him? 
No. 
Instead, you untangled your hand from his and Logan felt his heart sink. Then stop. 
That same hand slowly, hesitantly, reached for his cheek and you…
Kissed him. 
Again. 
This time, it was more searching and more familiar. More trusted. 
His hand now free, Logan pressed his hand to your own face, drawing you in closer whilst his arm curved around you and he allowed his hand to slip over your shoulder, down you back, towards your hip and up, inside the back of your t-shirt. 
His touch was warming to you. 
Your own hands traced down the side of his neck and up the side of his arm before meeting at the back, your nails scratching at the base of his hairline and neck. 
Finally having moved you onto your back, Logan leaned over you, his weight shifting onto you a little. 
Bringing his hands down to your hips, Logan lifted you a little further up the bed and you let out a small squeal. 
And he smirked. 
“Jackass.”
“You love it.”
Logan caught your smile against his own and pressed further into you, his legs slowly tangling with yours before he found his place locked between them. 
Pushing the hair from your face with his hand, Logan and yourself continued searching each other. Pressing against the boundaries that had been your last partnership together. 
Maybe it would take a short while to find your footing with each other. And maybe it would take even longer before you finally told Logan the truth about your first dream. 
And maybe, when you finally did, he spent the entire night helping you recreate it. Proving that the reality was better and so much more than your dream. 
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