#and i got up and i felt so.. light?? like there was some physical weight before dragging me down and now it was gone

[ccazimi]

Milk

CW: smut, thighriding, dubcon(?), premature ejaculation, male lactation, breastfeeding, namecalling, 18+ MDNI

wc: 2.8k

A/N: legit no one asked for this im just having a self indulgent moment

You were contentedly sprawled across the cool silk fabric, the massive sea of dark red that made up the expanse of Sukuna's luxurious bedding. It carried his scent - faint notes of charred pine, incense, agarwood with just the slightest hints of his musk.

Such a delicious scent-

"Stop smelling my sheets." His disapproving voice came from somewhere behind you in his chamber.

"The come get in so I can smell you instead." You twisted your neck to search for him in the warm lambent light of the standing oil lamps.

"I'm...not tired." He was sitting on a cushion, draped in the black haori that encased his bare chest nearly entirely.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

Sukuna had been absent more than usual the last few days - you thought he was avoiding you on purpose so you gave him his space. But four days was reaching the limit and eventually you steeled yourself and marched to where his personal quarters were located in the back of the estate amongst a forested patch of land, and confronted him.

Upon seeing you he caved in and let you into his room, denying that there was any issue. You weren't the type that cared to play guessing games so you took his word for it and invited yourself into his bed that you'd missed terribly.

Sukuna was never especially talkative and there was a mutual tacit agreement that silence was perfectly fine between the two of you - comfortable, even. What was odd right now, however, was his physical proximity.

If there was one thing to be known about Sukuna, it was that he was a man of the senses - your time with him may be spent in verbal silence but his hands were always on you, nose in your hair or the crook of your neck, the tongue on his stomach idly tracing patterns on your skin whenever and wherever it got the chance to do so.

So why was he being so off right now? Practically hovering since the moment you'd arrived, almost strategically keeping some distance from you at all times.

Oh.

Sukuna's brows furrowed slightly in confusion as he watched your default mischievous demeanor fall.

"Have you...grown tired of my body, my Lord? Do I not please you anymore?" You asked quietly, suddenly feeling out of place in this bed that was too big for you.

"What?! No." Sukuna's eyes widened slightly as he abruptly stood up, pulling his haori closer together like he was cold. "What a stupid idea. Why would you think that?"

You looked up at his genuinely perplexed face, only adding to your own confusion. "Well...you haven't been around lately, and now you refuse to lay with me-"

Before you could even finish your sentence the futon was dipping from his weight beside you as he climbed in. Your face lit up at the welcome heat which always radiated from his body, sinking into your naked skin.

You turned back on your side so you could curl up as usual by his chest, waiting for him to settle in completely so that you could fall asleep - taking naps next to him in his bed was one of your favorite guilty pleasures.

Except he didn't settle in, opting to stay about an inch or two away from pressing his chest flush against your back. You realized he still hadn't taken off his haori either - odd for a man that preferred to be bare-chested most of the time.

In an almost reflexive action, you closed the small distance, finally relaxing all the way when you felt the support of his large muscular frame behind yours even though it wasn't skin to skin with all four of his arms around you like you would've ideally preferred.

But for a second you could've sworn you felt Sukuna tense, possibly even jolt slightly when you pressed yourself into his clothed chest.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." Sukuna snapped. "Why wouldn't I be?"

You rolled your eyes where he couldn't see, faced away from him. "Then why are you being so jumpy? Are you hungry or something? Seriously, what's the ma-"

"Shhh." A large hand clamped onto your mouth, effectively muffling your chatter. "Give me some peace, just for once."

You had half a mind to nip at the skin of his palm but being here in his bed after days felt so good, too good, and you found yourself quickly becoming drowsy.

A few minutes passed by, and from the hand loosening its grip over your mouth you knew Sukuna was relaxing as well, falling into his "resting" state as he would call it (he personally believed he was above actually sleeping like humans did, and considered himself above such inane needs). You were half asleep yourself, body settling in and molding into his by instinct until you were encased by the warmth seeping from him through the fabric of his haori.

And then you felt it.

"What is that?" You sat up to find all four of Sukuna's eyes wide open.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Can you just go back to sleep?" He raised an arm to shove you back down to the pillow.

"I felt something wet on my back." You squirmed against his hold, managing to twist your torso over to face him. "Were you drooling on me?"

Sukuna scowled, huffing in indignation. "No, I did not drool on you. Do you always have to be odd, woman? You're making a fuss over absolutely nothing."

You sat up fully, about to retort back when something caught your eye.

In his agitation, Sukuna hadn't noticed a rather noticeable wet patch had formed on the breast of his haori.

"What-" Before he could say anything you yanked the collar of his robe aside, your eyes widening at the sight.

Small pearlescent beads of a liquid had formed on his skin, around a pink nipple that had puffed up slightly.

"Are you... Is that..." Before he could do anything you quickly swiped away the other side of his haori, peeling it away to find the other nipple was inflamed slightly as well, with a sheen covering it indicating that-

"You're lactati-"

Sukuna pulled his haori to cover his pecs again, another hand once again closing over your mouth to keep you from speaking. "Shut. Up. Do not say a word." He growled through a jaw clenched so tight it looked like someone had burned him.

But it was too late, an impish grin unfurled across your lips under his hand, eyes shining in mischief at the state your king was in. You swiped a tongue across his palm before biting it, not hard enough to draw blood but enough for him to quickly draw his hand back in surprise.

"Fucking- you little fucking shit. What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

You were irritatingly fast when you wanted to be, swinging a leg over his body to climb atop his lap. Now you straddled him, the smug smirk on your lips growing by the second.

"Is that-"

"Don't say it."

"-milk?!"

He slapped a hand on his face, letting out a low growl of frustration. "Yes, its milk. If you say a word about it to anyone else I'm going to slice off your tongue and make you eat it. Now leave me alone." He demanded.

But neither his sharp glare nor threats could stop you as you opened his haori to expose his chest, gentler than before this time. "Don't worry I don't intend on telling anyone. It's not like I want to share anyways."

"Share? What are you..." Sukuna caught the look on your face. "No. Don't even think about it, I am serious- ahh"

His sentence ended with the closest you've ever heard Sukuna come to whimpering as your lips descended onto the ring of his right nipple. His reaction only spurred you on, and you quickly lapped up the droplet of milk that had collected and swallowed.

You weren't sure what you expected it to taste like, but it certainly wasn't this.

It was ironic how a man as angry and violent as Sukuna produced such a lovely tasting substance. His milk was mildly sweet with a slightly bitter aftertaste, like burnt sugar in the best way possible.

So fucking good.

His hand knotted in your hair in an attempt to pry you off from his nipple but your hands were already roaming his pecs, towards the other dripping bud. You rolled it between your fingers as you laved your warm tongue around his areola, feeling his chest heave under you while he began to pant. "Stop...it. You're so fucking weird-"

You rolled your eyes up at his strained expression and gave his nipple a hard suck before he could react. More liquid filled your mouth, almost as sweet as the look on his face. You greedily swallowed, suckling harder while massaging his full pecs with your hands.

"Mhm." You hummed around his skin as you felt a shiver run down his body.

"God, have- fuck, have some... decorum, woman." Sukuna was trying so terribly hard to keep his voice steady, the feat proving itself even more difficult when you decided to do the opposite of his request and lewdly swirl your tongue around, stimulating the area so more milk would flow.

You looked up at him, eyes hazy now in ecstasy, white liquid dripping from the corners of your lips as you fed. The sight was so dirty it sent blood rushing straight to his cocks and they rapidly hardened under where you were seated.

You released your mouth, detaching it from the wet and leaking patch of skin with a gossamer strand of saliva that broke away before flashing him another devilish look.

"You love this." You teased, with a grinding of your hips for emphasis to let him know his hard-ons hadn't gone unnoticed.

"You're not doing much better yourself, slut." With an opportunity to gain a little leverage over you, he gave a pointed glance to where your pussy sat on top of his clothed cocks, drenched in your leaking arousal.

You couldn't even pretend to be ashamed, though. "I can't help it. You taste so good, and you look so cute when you're embarrassed-"

"I'm not embarrassed," He gritted, "You're just violating me like the little freak you are."

"But you liked it."

"That's enough of this nonsense, get off me."

You pouted. "But your other tit is still full."

He looked at you in disgust. "Do not call it that."

You continued looking at him as he looked conflicted, deciding between his ego and pleasure.

"Fine." He finally ceded, much to your delight. "Do the other one." This time he guided your head to his other breast. "But be gentle for fuck's sake, they're sensitive-"

Whatever lecture he was giving you about being gentle had clearly fallen on deaf ears as you immediately latched your lips around his nipple and began sucking and nipping to no abandon.

You grinded on his cocks as you drank, feeling them harden even more under you.

"Slow - ah - down,"

But you only did the opposite, working over the tender flesh like you were starved. The milk trickled down everywhere, dripping down your chin and you could make out the faintest floral notes in it. The taste of him turned you on even more and you rutted against the outlines of his hard dicks, feeling the mess you were making on his hakama under your slick skin.

"Fuck, you filthy girl." The grip in your hair tightened, releasing an involuntary moan from your lips against his chest amidst the obscenely wet noises of your mouth. "I'm - fuck, fuck-"

Sukuna's hips jerked up, taking you by surprise as you felt his cocks twitching violently before his whole body stiffened as he bit down on his lips to keep himself from moaning out loud. Finally after a few seconds his muscles laxed, leaving you confused for a second before you felt the sticky, hot liquid soaking through his hakama and onto your thighs.

You smiled cheekily upon realizing, "Did you just..."

The look he was giving you was straight up murderous, and might have been enough to actually scare you if it weren't for the flustered pink that tinted his cheeks.

"Stop using your mouth to yap, and put it to use for once." He smirked, regaining his composure and though he'd already came his dicks weren't entirely soft yet beneath you. "Clean it up- since you love milk so much."

It was your turn to feel heat creep into your cheeks as the dynamic shifted and you understood you were being put back into your place with how he was grinning down at you. It didn't help the throbbing between your own legs.

You shifted down till your head was between his massive thighs, pulling off the hakama till his cocks were uncovered, still somewhat hard with blushed tips still sticky with drying cum. A hand wove into your hair, collecting it into a ponytail and lifting it to the side so he could get a good view as you eyes the viscous liquid smeared across the skin on his dicks and pelvis.

You stuck your tongue out, beginning with a single swipe through some of the liquid that had pooled on his skin above his top cock to taste it.

Salty.

It kind of complemented his milk, you thought.

This taste was one you were familiar with, though you loved it just the same. It showed in how you devotedly lapped at his skin, caressing it and closing your eyes to savor the taste of him on your tongue.

He breathed out at the sensation, running his fingers through your hair as he pet you. "Such a needy little cumslut." He purred. "Look at how greedily you drink my milk and my cum. And you were asking me if I was hungry?"

You squeezed your thighs together, trying to alleviate some of pulsing in your clit with the uncomfortable amount of wetness that had collected there. But the ache was too much, distracting you from cleaning the mess on his skin.

You looked up at him, eyes brimming with frustrated lust.

"What's the matter, pet? I didn't tell you to stop."

"I...need to cum. I don't think I can hold on any longer." You admitted breathlessly, looking up at him through your lashes as innocently as you could manage so that he'd forget about how you'd agonized him earlier and show some mercy.

You were met with a wolfish grin. "After what you pulled? I'm not laying a finger on your cunt. Figure it out yourself." He twisted your hair around his fist, shoving your head back down. "And get back to doing what I told you, slut. Do you have a problem following instructions?"

You bit your tongue, feeling irritated and unsatisfied even though you knew damn well you had this coming. You rubbed against his silken sheets as you bent over to go back to licking drying pools of his cum, sure you'd were making a mess on the fabric which provided no relief at all. Your hands roamed, fingertips skimming across the tops of his muscular thighs, tracing the dark tatted band that encircled them when the idea hit you.

You eagerly lifted your own leg to straddle a well toned quad, mouth leaving his skin for a second as you whined at the feel of his burning skin against your sex.

"I figured...it out...ahh, fuck." You bragged through small whimpers and moans as you grinded your sopping cunt onto the planes of muscle that adorned his thigh, tilting your pelvis forward so that your clit could rub deliciously along the firm curves.

Sukuna watched you hungrily, drinking in the sight of you getting off so brazenly on his thigh. "You're so fucking pathetic, you know that?"

"Mhm." You absentmindedly agreed, unable to care enough right now to preserve your dignity because of how good it felt. You dipped your head against and went back to sucking and licking the skin on and around his shaft, tongue dragging along in messy stripes as you humped his leg relentlessly, already feeling your pent up orgasm rearing its head.

"Just like that. Do I taste good, pet?" Sukuna asked though the both of you already knew the answer.

"Yes, yes! So fucking good." You babbled against his skin, desperately trying to get every last drop of his seed, wishing he still had more milk to spare.

He clenched his muscles and the sudden movement against your clit caused your orgasm to finally crash down on you, leaving you slack jawed and wide eyed at how sinfully good it felt.

You rode out your high, hips undulating back and forth until finally the last wave of your climax left your body limp. You collapsed onto his chest catching your breath.

When you felt yourself coming back to your senses, you crawled up to his chest and slapped a pec, earning a strangled noise from him. "So when are these things gonna fill back up?"

[yan-randomfandom]

yandere viktor with an innocent and naive reader but with magical abilities, where the reader knows how to use simple magic like conjuring plants or controlling water... ((the reader only knows the basics of magic, since no one taught it and this magic would be the only one so far who knows how to do it, and the reader was a little scared of being in a rush or being studied like a lab rat because she has magic, but she confided her secret to Viktor...)) Why do you do that?

Y!Viktor x GN!Mage!Reader

a/n: posting this before act 2 omg, i think i need a rewatch — btw this one only has very light yandere undertones,, ..erm

💦 ;

"Psst. Hey, want to know a secret?"

Viktor blinked. His eyes followed the moving reflection on the iridescent river. Your figure was mirrored in the water, an unreadable expression on your face.

... He looked up, alarmed. Were you talking to him? Viktor didn't even know you.

You met his amber eyes. For whatever reason, on the edge of the cliff just above the water, you folded your legs against your chest and buried half your face in your arms.

"Well?" you pushed, voice muffled.

His mouth opened, then closed. Viktor nodded wordlessly instead.

" ... Promise me you won't tell anyone."

Without a moment's hesitation, the young boy nodded again.

He watched as you stood up and jumped steadily into the river, splashing him and his mechanical boat. A low, frustrated groan escaped him as water seeped into his clothes.

"Oh, sorry," you said as he tried to wipe the water from his face. "Let me get that for you."

Suddenly, Viktor felt his weight gradually become less unpleasant—almost refreshing, even, as if the water slid across and away from his skin and clothes.

That's when he saw it.

A small blob of water, floating in the air. It moved carefully like it was fragile.

Then came another, and another. Small specks came together until it formed one single bubble.

Abruptly, it dropped in the river. Like nothing ever happened. Viktor's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Cool, right?" you grinned. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, his jaw gaping. One of your hands was lifted, fingers poised in a manner of delicacy.

"You," Viktor finally spoke, stammering, his breathing ragged. "You did that? Was that... magic?"

You chuckled, settling yourself beside him. He turned to you, scooting over to make room, and met your steady gaze. “I think so. But I was serious when I said never, ever tell anyone.”

He shook his head, utterly appalled. "Is this some sort of trick?"

"I wish—"

“This is not funny,” he snarled, his demeanor shifting completely, catching you off guard. “If you’re just here to get a reaction out of me, I’d advise you and your friends to leave. Please.”

You frowned, standing up with your fists clenched. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m so sorry! And I don’t… even have friends.”

Viktor searched your face.

There's nothing to suggest a lie. He's observant, and he quietly prides himself over it, but this is one of the few cases where he genuinely starts to doubt his judgment.

"But," you sighed, turning away. "I'll leave if that's what you want. Apologies."

...

"... Wait."

— 🫧

The leaves of the seedling barely moved.

"Aw," you chuckled, dropping your arm to your side. Who knew conjuring plant powers could be so draining? "Well, I tried. Let's take a break!"

He let out a choked noise, pausing his writing. "We barely started! How is it that whenever you get to try something new and amazing, you avoid it?”

...

You didn't respond immediately.

Viktor put down his notebook, looking back at you, who was blankly staring at him.

"I guess I'm... scared?" you said, tilting your head. To his surprise, you gently grabbed his hand, running your thumb across his palm.

His face warmed. He physically couldn't say or do anything.

"You're the only one who knows about this, Vik," you muttered, your eyes fixed on his rough skin. "I sprung this on you when we were kids, which is kind of hilarious, by the way, but I had a reason. In my mind, you were the only one who would understand."

He thought so, too.

Viktor couldn’t stop himself from slipping his fingers between yours. It was a good thing you weren’t looking at him—otherwise, you might’ve seen how red his face had become.

"And you told me no one will believe me," he said, and while the memory was of you giving him a serious warning, his tone was filled with nothing but endearment.

"I still stand by that," you laughed, pulling your hand away from his, much to his disappointment. You still hadn't glance at his face. He mentally scolded himself for almost hoping you would see his expression. "Especially with our age now. They'll just think you're crazy."

"I understand," he chuckled, turning away. "About that break... you want to go to our usual?"

A smile curled on your lips. "Yes, please!"

— 🌱

Viktor said he has a surprise for you.

Admittedly, you're feeling extremely anxious. He grew up to become a researcher, an inventor—facts that don’t surprise you.

As his best friend, a person able to do magic, while absolutely shitty at it, you know he sees you as someone with massive potential. Literally. No one else in Piltover or Zaun is known to do this. Maybe in a hundred years—who knows? You didn't even have a proper education.

...

Viktor cleared his throat. "I've been offered a position in the University of Piltover."

You froze. The letter in his fingers bore the university’s wax seal in the center, bold and unmistakable.

“Holy shit,” you blurted, your eyes darting between him and the letter. “Holy shit!”

Jumping over to Viktor, you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. The biggest, most triumphant smile tugged at your lips. He staggered a little, but you were too wrapped up in your happiness to notice.

"Language," he laughed, hugging you back.

You snickered. "I'm so proud of you! Words can't even begin to express how happy I am for you!"

Pulling back, your hands still rested on his shoulders. Your smile relaxed ever so slightly as your eyes gazed into his softer ones.

"I knew you could do it," you exhaled.

A small pause.

Viktor had a look. Oh, shit. What’s that smirk for?

"...You're not done," you accused, raising an eyebrow.

He lifted the letter in his hand. "I have not accepted yet."

Now, your brows knitted together in utter confusion.

"... Why not—?"

"I said I won't be going unless they let me bring a plus one."

You smile faltered, denial crossing your face. He noticed it. Did he just say what you thought you heard him say?

"Are you saying...?" Your expression shifted into disbelief; you didn't quite understand his point.

"I want you to come with me," Viktor said, grabbing your hand and placing the letter in your palm. "To Piltover."

Oh, no. You didn't mean to.

The letter slipped from your hand as you panicked and pulled away.

Viktor felt overwhelmingly worried. He thought you'd be happier about the news.

Then, he looked around.

It had rained just before he decided to share the news. Some raindrops were still fresh, glistening from the downpour.

And around your figure, small droplets rose into the air. You were emotional.

"Viktor. You're not giving me to them, are you...?"

Defeated. That's how your voice sounded.

"Of course not," he hushed, pushing you onto a chair. "Never. Please calm down. Let me explain."

You obliged, sitting down. He sat beside you.

"I'm sorry," you spoke first, meeting his eyes. "It's not that I don't trust you. Heck, I trust you more than anyone. The thought of going up there... it just makes me anxious."

"I understand," Viktor nodded. He turned his head. "However, I promise you, I won’t let them take you away from me. You’ll be solely under my care. But I do know someone who’s willing to help us."

Viktor. So compassionate and filled with empathy. You admired him for those very reasons, not just for his brilliance. His presence feels like a whole other world to you—someone who could help you understand your abilities. Perhaps the only chance you have to truly learn who, or what you are.

"I'll be a burden."

"No. Of course not. I want you by my side."

You hesitated. Despite your family being clueless about your ability, they were still the people you cared for. You still had a life in the undercity.

"And if I refuse...?"

Viktor took a moment to respond. The thought of leaving you hurt his heart.

"You... I believe you don't have much of a choice."

You couldn't explain why, but you found it in yourself to wholeheartedly believe him.

— 💌

zamn

critique is welcome btw

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

the world (it burns through me)

Chapter 7

Ao3 | 2.7k Words | Darlin's POV

Milo is a drill Sergeant. Darlin' gets some emails. Angel washes dishes. Quinn is the type of asshole that flirts with teenagers.

TW: Stalking, threatening behavior, vomit.

“You’ve gotta put on some weight.” Milo tutted, his hands resting on his trim waist. Even two years later, Milo was a picture of petty tension. He hadn’t grown, despite the fact that he claimed people could grow into their mid twenties. He had built up a good deal of muscle in his back and chest, which served to make him look just a little bigger. He still had an air about him that made him seem two feet taller, even when you stared purposefully past the top of his head to piss him off.

Milo had started working you out as soon as Sam had given you the all clear, after you gave up on trying to avoid him. He was faster than you when he wanted to be, and staying away from him was so much less fun than just giving in to the familiarity of your quiet, playful arguments. 

The workouts started slow; annoying, silent yoga, something his partner had gotten him into that left you infuriatingly loose and relaxed afterwards. Once you could do that without panting and twitching with pain, he moved up. Light cardio and weights. You’d managed alright with that. Your stamina was shot but you were strong. Now, Milo had moved on to C.P.A.T. specifics. 

You’d passed the Candidate Physical Ability Test with flying colors the last time you’d taken it, but that felt like a lifetime ago. You were younger, stronger, fitter. What came to you naturally at eighteen made you wheeze at twenty-seven. Milo cast his gaze across the practice course before cutting those clever eyes back to you and your sorry state.

“There aren’t any weight class requirements for the physical.” You snapped. 

“No,” Milo replied, “but you’re not gonna get through the endurance test like this. You’re gonna fall out.” 

“I guarantee you I won’t.”

“Put your money where your mouth is, doll.” 

“Call me that again and I’ll knock your teeth out.” 

“Twenty?”

“Fifty.”

You won, just barely. Milo had a point, though. Running that course in full turnouts, hauling that ladder, scaling it, finding the hidden dummies in the fake building’s facade and hauling them back down, dragging the dummies and the ladder back the safe distance requirements; it was nearly too much for you. By the time you’d finished the run, you were gasping for breath, gripping at your protesting ribs, and dumping the dummies at your feet without a care for their ‘wellbeing.’ That part wasn’t new. It was a habit from your days as a probie you couldn’t shake. This time, though, it was done with some extra disdain. 

Milo clapped a fifty in your hand and let you catch your breath before he tugged off your turnouts, up your tank top, and pressed his thin, clever fingers into your flesh to check your ribs. 

“You’re gonna make me blush.” You gasped. Milo sneered. 

“You’re gonna get yourself killed if you don’t give your body what you need. You have to eat to heal.” He shook his head, dark curls bouncing this way and that. You patted him on the head the way you knew he hated. 

“You’re preaching to the choir. David’s already working on me.” 

“He’s got the patience of a Saint.” 

“No, he’s just force feeding me.” 

“Good.” 

You were eating three square meals a day, all packed with protein and healthy fats and carbs. Whenever David wasn’t putting out fires, both literal and figurative, he was cooking. He put more plates in front of you than you could manage in a day. It was the biggest bulk you’d experienced in your life, and even it was falling short of what your body needed. To be completely fair to David’s efforts, your body had always run on fumes. There had never been enough to go around. You had gotten used to making that work. 

David surrounded you with abundance. The tension of your sort-of-fight had eased. He had started asking you questions. They were uncomfortable, and you were finding it harder and harder to dodge them. 

You were going to spill your guts soon. You could feel it crawling up and out of you. You were going to lay down your load at David’s feet, unburden yourself through clenched teeth and let him take the weight. You’d done it with Gabe. David looked so much like him. 

You hit the showers, scrubbing the sweat from your skin. The cold tile made your toes curl. The lines of your tattoos were raised with cold and irritation from the cheap body wash that was stocked in all of the shower stalls. You ran ghost-soft touch over all of them before moving on to your scars. The one over your side, the newest one, was still pink and new. If you pressed hard enough on the two inches of clean, stitched skin, it still hurt. 

David caught you in the locker room as you slipped a D.F.D sweatshirt over your head. You’d slowly moved your meager belongings from your shitty studio to the last locker in the row at the 10-19. David had offered you plenty of his own clothes, but you didn’t like to wear them. Not the way that his spouse did, anyway. The little Shaw slid one of his giant tee-shirts over their head and wore it like a badge of honor, like a mark of ownership. You didn’t own David. You certainly didn’t plan on letting him own you. As it stood, the majority of your wardrobe was either covered in blood or stolen pieces from the D.F.D.’s lost and found. 

“Hey,” you mumbled, pushing your still-wet hair away from your face, “are you done, do we need to go?” 

“No,” David shook his head. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants. “I’ve got a few more hours. Look, I reactivated your D.F.D. email account. There’s a form in there for the next C.P.A.T.. Fill it out sometime today.” 

“Okay.” You nodded. “When is it?” 

“Three weeks.” David said. “I can get you back on the job within forty-eight hours if you pass it.” 

“If?” You grinned. “I recall holding a record with my last one.” 

“Yeah well,” David shrugged, “you were a spring chicken then. We’ve gotten old.”

“Speak for yourself, Shaw.” You flashed teeth. “I could still kick your ass.” 

“Email. Form. Today.” David barked. You could tell, somewhere in your gut, that he was joking just as much as you were. 

“Yes, Captain, sorry, Captain.” You clicked your heels together in a salute as he rolled his eyes and retreated down the hallway towards his office. A smile slid over your face as he left you alone in the cold, quiet locker room. 

You D.F.D. email had two-thousand-and-seventy-three unread messages waiting for you once you’d managed to remember the password. You flopped down on a couch in the bunk room and sighed as you clicked into the newest one, skimming the form to sign up for the C.P.A.T.. Something about filling out that form, going to that test, made your chest hurt. It made all of it, being back here at the 10-19 feel… real. That was a dangerous thing for you. You couldn’t explain why. 

November was drawing towards a close. The cold had long settled over Dahlia and into your blown, shitty joints. You could do the C.P.A.T., you could not do it. December would come on either way. 

You clicked out of the form, out of the email, and back to your inbox. Maybe you’d feel more inclined to carry on with your future when all of the spam messages were gone. 

Spam. Advertisement. Debt collector. Spam. Medical bill. Spam. 

You almost swiped it right into your archives when your eyes caught on the subject line of a message from an email address consisting entirely of scrambled numbers and letters. That was usually enough for you to chuck the whole thing as bullshit. The subject, though, made your heart squeeze. You sat up on the couch, your feet hitting the ground. You needed your boots flat on the floor. You needed your legs under you when you read this. You might need to run. 

Back home so soon, Precious? 

Bile rose up in your throat, acidic and cutting. You swallowed hard and clicked on the address’s icon. Copy, paste, the address went into your search bar and twenty-odd unopened messages popped up. 

California state employees’ email addresses all followed the same formula. Last name, first initial. It would be so easy for Quinn to find it. 

You scrolled down to the earliest message and opened it up. The subject line made your hands shake; I’m never far behind, you know.

It was a picture of you from sometime in September. You were still black and blue from the fight you two had devolved into. You were standing in a gas station somewhere in Washington, staring at two different, overpriced painkiller options. You’d killed that bottle in less than a week. 

You’d known, in your gut, that Quinn would follow you when you ran. You hadn’t noticed him. You thought for sure, if he was that close, you’d have noticed. 

It was more of that. A picture of you in a diner, flirting with the waitress who gave you free pie. A shot of the back of your head in a Greyhound bus heading for California. You through the stained, narrow windows of your shitty apartment. 

Sam and his EMT’s leaving the night you’d been stabbed. 

Sam’s truck in the firehouse parking lot. 

Sam at lunch in a plush restaurant with a handsome man in his mid-forties. 

Sam sitting on the porch of his cabin, coffee cup in his hand. He looked so peaceful, his eyes closed and head tilted back against his rocking chair. 

Vincent in his fancy car, kissing who you assumed to be his partner in a school parking lot. He’d mentioned that they worked in an elementary school. 

Sam’s Probie walking towards a nightclub, their arm linked with a drop-dead-gorgeous man, surrounded by friends. 

David outside of a fire, smudged with soot, directing the scene like a conductor. 

Little Shaw standing at the sink, scrubbing the remnants of dinner from a plate, taken through the slots in the pantry door. 

He had been inside David’s house. He had stood three feet away from them and taken that picture. He was close enough to hear the little songs they hummed to themself whenever it got too quiet. 

You locked your phone, stuffed it into your pocket, and moved. You barely made it to the bathroom before you lost your lunch. 

He could get inside the house. He had gotten inside the house. There was no telling how long he’d stayed there. He could be there right now, waiting in the shadows for somebody to pass by and make an example out of. You had to tell David. You had to make them leave, had to put them both somewhere safe and torch the fucking place. It was tainted. He’d been in there, and it would never be safe again. 

Hands shaking, you replied to that last picture, staring at their tiny frame and estimating how long it would take Quinn to subdue them. Seconds. He could kill them in seconds. 

What do you want? 

The response was almost instant. 

You. 

He attached an address. You didn’t need to punch it in anywhere to know it. Max’s was familiar ground. The house ordered from there more than anywhere else, and Gabe’s accident had been just down the road. 

It got dark early this time of year, and by the time you emerged from the bathroom, the sun had set and night shift had invaded the building. You could smell dinner on the stove and hear the chatter of the house through the walls. If you hung a left, you’d be surrounded by them. You could find David, ask him to talk. He would know what to do about Quinn. He would handle it. 

Quinn was dangerous. David could handle himself, but Quinn fought dirty. David couldn’t win against him, not playing by the rules. 

No, you had to handle this yourself. David was already in danger, his spouse too. Quinn liked to aim for the weakest link. He liked to strike where it was easy to do real damage without taking any injuries himself. That’s where he’d hit you. The only way you’d learned to make him back off was to hit him head on, to not even give him the chance to find your weak point. 

He knew you just about as well as you knew him, of course. You’d have to hope he wouldn’t call your bluff. You’d have to hope he wouldn’t smell the terror rolling off of you in waves. 

You retreated away from the noise, from the sounds of your house, and towards the ambulance bay. You could sneak out the backdoor, have it out with Quinn, and be back before David was any the wiser. You gripped your hand into a fist as you shrugged on your jacket and shouldered open the back door. 

“Darlin’,” Sam’s voice called from inside. You stilled, boots just barely on the icy sidewalk outside. You turned, your hands still fists at your sides. Sam’s uniform collar was unbuttoned. He must have been getting off shift. “Where ‘ya running off to?” 

“Mother hen.” You muttered bitterly. Sam smiled anyway, seeming almost… bashful. “Just going on. Meeting somebody. Shouldn’t be long.” 

“Well, I’m off.” Sam reached inside to grab his jacket off the rack. “Let me drive you. It’s cold as all hell.”

“I’m fine.” You shook your head and stepped back. “Really.” You did not want to introduce Sam to Quinn. You didn’t want Quinn to make any assumptions. You didn’t want Sam to hear the things he was going to say to you, about you. Whatever you were, whatever parts of you Quinn had broken, whatever parts of you had always been broken, Sam didn’t know about them. You didn’t want him to see you and all of your broken parts in the naked light.

“Is it… um… are you going to see him?” Sam squinted at you, his jacket still in his hands. You swallowed. Your poker face crumbled. You’d never been a good liar. 

“Sam,” you started, hands clenching and unclenching. 

“I’ll take you.” He said decisively. You blinked, surprised. You were expecting him to try and talk you out of it. 

“You… you’ll take me?” 

“I’m sure as shit not letting you go alone.” Sam grinned like it was such a ridiculous notion that it was funny. “Come on, we can talk on the ride.” 

You were quiet for most of it, your throat constricting over all of the warnings and defenses you desperately wanted to spew. Instead, you answered each of Sam’s questions steadily, one word at a time. 

“How’d he reach you?” 

“Email.” 

“And he followed you here?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So he knows where to find ‘ya if you don’t go to him.” 

“Yeah.” 

“He’s liable to start a fight?”

“If not him, then me.” 

“And he fights dirty?” 

“He brings guns to knife fights, let’s put it that way.” 

“I understand.” 

“Do you?” You turned to him from the passenger seat, your face pinched and twisted in concern. Your teeth worried over the scar on your top lip. Sam’s eyes caught yours, brown gone red with the street light. 

“I do.” His shaking fingers tapped against the steering wheel in an awkward, unsteady rhythm. “Better than I can put into words.” 

The parking lot outside of Max’s was full this time of night, so Sam parked across the street. You spotted him through the wide, bright windows. Quinn had taken up a booth at the back of the small restaurant. His feet were kicked up on the table, shitty, worn boots smearing dirt across the clean surface. He was flirting with the teenage server who was refilling his coke. She blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The guy behind the counter was eyeing the two of them nervously. Anybody who had ever known an asshole before could see right through Quinn if they tried hard enough. That was why he had to flirt with teenagers. 

Quinn turned suddenly, stiff and aware. His bright, blue eyes caught yours through the window. His face split out into a terrible, toothy grin as he beckoned you inside.

[themichaelvan]

is this what people feel like when they're like. not tired at all. damn. i'm actually starting to see the appeal of getting a good nights sleep and all that.

[bunnys-kisses]

retired!price liked that you had daddy issues. aw, did someone not have a functioning relationship with their father as a child and now has to find that relationship in older men? aw, poor doll. price was more than okay with being called 'daddy' as long as you called him 'captain' too, especially when you were on your knees. while you got off to having an older man praise you, he got off to a pretty little thing calling him captain. you even went as far as to worship his strong physic, how easily he could bend, flip, turn and press into you.

didn't help that your pussy became a fixation for him.

he was close to fifty, his hip had a habit of locking from time to time. he had been hearing about it for years that it was time to have a family. even simon had managed to make a family, price was still hung up on young tail that he could bully his fat cock into. while most younger women were flavours of the week with no string attached. price made sure to attach every metaphorical string onto you. he had a copy of your apartment key. he added a profile for you on his streaming services. he knew on wednesdays you enjoyed pasta, but hated cooking on the weekend. he knew everything about his precious baby girl. you folded into his praise and always were eager to please. and that was what price loved about you. so imagine his shock (anger) when you told him that you thought you'd have to end your arrangement because you met a guy at your university. and when he asked why, you simply said, "i have to grow up at some point.", and that hit price in the head like an ice pick. if you wanted to grow up so badly, baby girl. there were other ways to do it.

the broken condom held weight in price's pocket while you had few drinks during your last 'date' together, he waited till you got all soft because of the wine. till you were on his side of the booth with your leg over his lap and your face pressed against his bicep. you ran your hand across his chest and giggled, "you're taking this whole break up thing so well." and he petted your head, watching you fold into him further, "like you said, you need to grow up." but you both had different definitions of 'growing up'. for you it meant getting over you daddy issues, but to him it was making him a daddy, for real. you giggled further while he gave you another glass of wine. when you tried to say no, he simply pushed it closer to you, "don't want to waste the bottle." and so easily you were in price's grip.

price took you three times that night. first was in the backseat of his expensive car. he pressed you into a corner, claimed that he needed more space for his larger body. your hazy vision was transfixed on the glimmer of his gold chain against his hairy chest in the low light. your poor body bent in such ways while he pace was relentless. he admired your unsteady gaze and your heavy breathing. he continued to move against you with such a pace that the whole car rocked. but don't worry, the parking lot was dead at that hour. you could scream your head off and no one would hear either of you. he did however put a tear in your panties. right in the crotch area. he sighed and said that he'd need to buy you something a little. while he loved the cheap pairs you owned, he thought his woman deserved something a little nicer. the future mrs. price needed to look next to perfection.

then he fingered you heavily in his bed and watched you squirm. he had to make sure every drop got deep enough before he bullied your sweet pussy once more. he loved the sight of you, still so fucked out from prior. you were in a daze in the car ride home. your breathing was heavy when he pushed the skirt of your dress up a little and teased your cunt while he drove. only to go further once you were naked on his bed. he watched your ass jiggle with each of his power thrusts while he took you from behind. he felt like a mad man while he fucked you. he was determined. he only got to where he was in his career because of grit and determination. he wouldn't back down to a challenge, especially when the stakes were so high. your pussy need to be bred, you needed to be with price. he never wanted to hear anything about another man ever again. price would hate to take drastic measures if another man tried to get in his way. if you needed a collar or a tattoo, the taste of his cum constantly your lips or leaked into your panties, price would do it all to ensure that you were his. the most effective way to ensure that was what kept him going through two rounds of sex without any pains. to get you pregnant. you had already forgotten about the broken condom, it still was in price's pocket! no use using it now, even bother giving the illusion that he wasn't breeding you.

the third time was when you tried to leave the next morning, he had you upside down on the bed. your bottom half on the mattress while all the blood rushed to your head as you tried not to fall on your head. price put bruises on top of bruises. your poor cunt was creamy with promises of the future. a future with him. the blood rush made you cum twice on his cock, adding fresh slick to his coated cock. you thought that older men were supposed to slow down with age. but it felt like price was even quicker than before. his pace brutal, almost like punishment for trying to leave him. but price didn't get to be captain because he followed one plan. he was going to ease you into married life, slowly make you the perfect woman for him. he was traditional that way. church wedding, the white dress, the vows. that would all happen, but might take a little longer. he wasn't too sure that a baby bump would fit nicely in a wedding dress. the thought of you pregnant, trapped to him made him eagerly finish in you two times. and when he got you back up onto the bed, you were fucked out. when you managed to collect your clothes and stagger out of his flat by mid-afternoon, you thought you made it in time to the pharmacy to get emergency plan b.

you prayed, and you never prayed. you promised three versions of 'god' that you'd convert to their religion if the pill worked. but three deities failed you and a month later price was in your apartment with his hands on the plastic pregnancy test. he scratched his beard and looked at you. he tried so hard to put on his best acting face. "that's a real shame, baby girl." he said in that rough voice of his that got you in trouble in the first place. he leaned back a little in your kitchen chair and placed the test back down on the table, "always wanted to be a father." he frowned a little bit, "never got the chance too. they said when i retired that the chances were low of me havin' a baby..." he looked at you. you should've known he was lying. his swimmers obviously weren't shot by how easily you got pregnant. you felt bad, almost like you were burdening him with getting pregnant. that it was your fault. you rung your hands and admitted softly, "we can try... we can make a family." and price smiled, "oh, doll." then got up to embrace you. you sniffled and cried a little in his strong chest. he held you in his strong arms. he was your protector even though his cock was straining in his jeans at the knowledge that he fundamentally changed you.

your body, your life, everything. when he released you from the hug, he got down on his knees. made a point to make a small 'huff' noise from being down on his 'bad' knee before he pushed up your t-shirt and pressed a kiss against your stomach. he said to you, "don't worry, love. daddy'll take care of ya." then gave that smile that wrapped around you like a vice. <3

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve got the tattoo the day they held the very small, very secret service for Eddie.

He knew he had to get it somewhere hidden, didn’t wanna answer questions, not even from Robin.

The E+S on his upper thigh was precious to him, all he had left of the promises they made to each other as children and again as teenagers.

Eddie was Steve’s, even if he wasn’t here, and Steve would always be Eddie’s, even if Eddie no longer knew.

But eventually, the end of summer came, and the kids wanted to have something normal. Normal for them was a pool party that ended in a sleepover, and Steve didn’t have much choice about making it happen.

He wanted them to have something normal.

So he got his bathing suit on, forgetting the tattoo was in a spot that might show in it, and tried to have fun with them.

Robin noticed and then Max noticed, and once he’d tried getting out of the explanation twice in a row, Dustin and Will noticed.

So he just explained that he lost a dare with Tommy years ago and that got them to stop asking.

But he found himself crying in the shower that evening, trying his best not to make any noise as sobs wracked his body and it got harder and harder to breathe.

The only thing that snapped him out of it was the knowledge that Eddie would want him to go back downstairs to be with the kids. He wouldn’t want to see Steve like this.

He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to his tattoo, just like he’d done every single day since he got it.

And then he went downstairs to be with the kids.

His one rule during sleepovers at his house was he still go to sleep in his own bed. Sometimes Robin would join him, but most of the time, he slept alone.

He couldn’t sleep.

He could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones, but every time he closed his eyes and tried to drift, he’d get an overwhelming feeling of being watched.

His eyes would open and he’d look around, confused and frustrated.

And nothing would be there.

Which was good, great even. He didn’t want there to be anyone or anything there. But he did want an explanation for this feeling.

He sat up in his bed and sighed.

Maybe he could-

Something was definitely in his bathroom. The door had been closed earlier, like it always was, and now it was halfway open.

The light was off.

Steve stood from his bed silently, crept to the bathroom with his nail bat raised, and considered what would happen if he died up here.

“That’s a depressing thought even for your melodramatics, sweetheart.”

Steve barely resisted screaming at Eddie’s voice.

“Oh god. I’ve finally fuckin’ lost it,” he said as he turned the bathroom light on.

“I dunno. You still got it, baby. Even if you lost some weight in your ass.”

Eddie, or something that looked and talked like Eddie, was sitting on the sink in the bathroom.

“I did like those little swim trunks, though. Hope you wear those again for me.”

“What the fuck.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I said when I woke up alive. Kinda thought I was dying. Imagine my surprise when I didn’t.”

Steve held his bat tighter.

“Eddie? How?”

Eddie hopped off the sink and stepped closer, slowly, so he wouldn’t scare Steve.

“Not sure. But it’s not the craziest thing that’s happened.” Eddie wanted to touch him, Steve could tell. His hands were clenching into fists to resist. “I know I’m not human, but I’m close enough, I think.”

“Close enough for what?”

“To love you.”

Steve dropped the bat and fell against Eddie, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in, not caring about the dirt or sweat or grime clinging to his skin.

It was Eddie, and he’d take him any way he could have him.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been trying to get back here for so long.” Eddie’s arms held him tight enough to bruise. “Won’t happen again, won’t leave you again.”

Steve’s sobs were loud, but trying to contain them physically pained him. He’d been in enough pain for months. He had to let these out.

He felt Eddie waving his hands behind him, but then heard Robin’s rambling and decided to turn.

“-and he’s been distraught for months but didn’t tell me anything and then I saw his tattoo earlier and I thought, well, must just be a joke you guys had. And then I was like, no, can’t be, because you barely spoke. Or at least I thought you did. Clearly I’m wrong. I’m super wrong. Wrongest I’ve ever been maybe.”

“Robs.” Steve’s choked voice silenced her. “You know how I told you to go for it with Nancy because I really didn’t have feelings for her?”

“I don’t see how this is relevant, but yeah.”

“She protected me, both of us, really, so we could be together. Offered to pretend to date me so no one would get suspicious.”

“Steve. Steve Harrington. You had a beard?”

Eddie snorted. “I know you said she was funny, but I’m pretty she’s my second favorite human now.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve been with Eddie for forever. I mean, since we were kids practically.”

Robin was silent. A rare thing for her.

“Robin?”

“Sorry, just taking this in.”

“Yeah, Eddie being alive is a lot-“

“Not that. That is gonna come a lot later once I stop and think about the fact that he’s some kind of zombie.” Robin leaned against the doorway. “The fact that I came out to my best friend and he didn’t return the favor. That is queer code, Steve.”

Eddie laughed, and Steve let out another sob. He’d missed him so much, missed his laugh, his arms around him, his heartbeat-

“Eds. Eddie.” Steve lifted his head and pressed both hands to his chest. “You-“

“Ah. So I don’t seem to have a heartbeat anymore. As far as I can tell, I did actually die.” Eddie shrugged as if this news wasn’t absolutely insane. “So my best guess is vampire since I prefer blood to brains. But I can get by without it for a pretty long time.”

“How long?”

“Well, I haven’t had any since the day I woke up. Which is a few months according to your calendar.”

Robin held her hands up. “I’m going. Good luck. The kids are gonna flip.”

“Do not tell them. Not yet.”

Steve needed tonight, needed to have Eddie to himself before everyone else stole it for a while. He wanted to be selfish for the first time in a very long time. He knew Robin would understand.

“Sure thing. But you’re gonna have to be quiet. You’re lucky none of them heard you crying.”

Steve nodded and curled back into Eddie, placing a kiss against his neck.

“Glad you’re back Eddie,” she said as she left.

“I need a shower,” Eddie said. “Think it’ll wake the kids?”

“Nah. They slept through a tree falling in the yard last month during a storm. Just need to be quick,” Steve pulled away to start grabbing what he’d need for a shower, but Eddie pulled him back on, running his nose along his neck and sending chills down his spine.

“You wanna join me?” He asked.

“Of course I do. But we won’t be quick if I join you,” Steve smiled.

A real smile. One he realized he hadn’t had on his face since spring break.

“You wanna wait in bed for me, then?” Eddie beamed back at him.

“Can I stay in here? I don’t-“ Steve sighed. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

Eddie’s smile softened into something endeared. “Yeah, sweetheart. You can stay. Talk to me. Tell me what I missed.”

Steve told him about everything he could while he showered away the Upside Down grime, watching his shadow behind the glass door of the shower to make sure it never disappeared.

They made sure the bedroom door was locked before crawling into bed together, Steve laying on top of Eddie like he always did before.

He was heavier, but Eddie never cared.

Steve slept so long, Eddie had no choice but to go downstairs in the morning so no one would wake him up.

The chaos that ensued was nothing short of overwhelming, but Eddie didn’t mind.

He was happy to back with all the kids, even if they asked incredibly inappropriate questions about his body to find out what he was.

When Steve finally came down, he was still half asleep and barely registered the open-mouth stares of everyone as he came up to Eddie and rested his head on his chest, wrapped his arms around his waist.

Eddie smiled down at him and kissed the top of his head.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning, baby.”

“Sunshine?!” Dustin yelled.

“Baby?!” Mike yelled louder.

“Make them go away,” Steve sighed against his neck.

“You don’t wanna explain?” Eddie asked him, half joking.

“Not today. Scare them or something.”

“You think Eddie can scare us? We’ve all almost died!” Lucas said.

“Fine. Eddie and I are together, have been forever. The tattoo on me is our initials. Get out of my house.”

The kids just stared at them in silence until Steve finally turned from Eddie and put his hands on his hips.

“I wasn’t asking. Get out.”

The kids scrambled to leave, making promises (threats) to come back soon.

Robin waved as she walked out with them, throwing them both a wink and knowing smile.

“So how long do you think we have until they come back?” Eddie asked, rocking them back and forth gently.

“Few hours maybe.”

“I can do a lot in a few hours,” Eddie nipped at Steve’s ear, making him shiver and laugh.

“You got super strength with your new life?” Steve grinned at him.

“I wouldn’t call it super, but I could definitely carry you back to bed.”

Steve jumped up and wrapped his legs around Eddie’s waist, arms around his neck.

“Carry me to bed, then, Eds.”

“Anything your heart desires, Stevie.”

[letsgetbigger]

OnlyFat

Nigel looked at himself in the mirror, as he did every morning, admiring his toned and sculpted body, the result of years of dieting and hard work at the gym. At 28 years old, he felt at the peak of his physical form. Firm muscles, broad shoulders, and a defined abdomen, along with his handsome face and sizable cock, had earned him a considerable number of followers on OnlyFans. While he wasn’t a millionaire, earning an average of about two thousand dollars a month allowed him certain luxuries and a pretty comfortable lifestyle. He enjoyed his routine. He filmed private videos, always eager to please, and responded to the strangest and most specific requests from his fans. No matter what they asked of him, he always found a way to enjoy it; perhaps due to his naturally submissive nature, something he had discovered long ago and now used to his advantage.

That Tuesday, as he checked the messages in his account, he came across a proposal that made him pause. It was from someone named Dom43, who had written to him several times before, though never with such a direct request. The message read:

“I’ll give you a thousand dollars if you gain ten pounds of fat in a month and send me a video of the results. No tricks. I want to see how you change. What do you say?”

Nigel raised an eyebrow and reread the offer over and over. It wasn’t the typical request he was used to. At first, it seemed strange, almost absurd. But the money—a thousand dollars!—was a considerable temptation. Plus, a part of him, the part that had always enjoyed obeying and submitting to others’ desires, felt a twinge of excitement at the idea. After a few minutes of thought, he shrugged and let himself go with his gut.

“I accept,” he wrote back.

He knew doing this would change something, though he wasn’t sure what. What he didn’t expect was just how much this would lead him down an unexpected path.

For Nigel, gaining ten pounds in a month didn’t seem like much of a challenge. And he knew that once he hit the goal and pocketed that thousand dollars, he could go back to his strict diet and regain his physique in a matter of weeks. It was just a simple detour, a small, temporary indulgence. Nothing serious. With that assurance, he decided to change his eating habits.

That same afternoon, he went to the grocery store, filling his cart with everything he normally avoided: frozen pizzas, pastries, salty snacks, and especially lots of tubs of ice cream, which he promised himself to devour every night. Salads were out of the picture for a few weeks. When he got home, the idea of indulging in unrestrained pleasure, of breaking the rules he had imposed on himself for years, turned him on. Even more so when he remembered he was doing it for Dom43, to fulfill his request.

That night, he sat on the couch in front of the TV, a pizza on one side and a tub of ice cream on the other, a smile on his face. At first, he ate because he was hungry, but soon that hunger turned into something darker, more intimate. He kept eating, even though he was no longer hungry. The mere thought of knowing he was stuffing himself, filling up to please someone, gave him a thrill he had never experienced before. When he finished, he lay back on the couch, gently stroking his slightly bloated stomach, feeling strangely satisfied.

***

Two weeks had passed, and Nigel had fully embraced his new routine of excess. He was eating as if it were a competition. The food filled him, but what really satisfied him was the idea of transforming his body at someone else’s request. He knew he was changing, that his body was reacting. And it was confirmed when he weighed himself: eight pounds gained. He was close to reaching his goal.

The next day, while working out, his personal trainer, Mark, noticed something different. Nigel was in the middle of doing crunches when Mark let out a mocking laugh.

“You’ve been slacking a bit, man,” he said, giving Nigel’s stomach a light tap. “You’ve put on some weight. And not just around the belly…” Mark added, motioning toward his backside.

Nigel laughed, trying to hide the heat rushing to his face. “Yeah, well, I’ve been indulging a little—nothing serious.”

Mark shook his head, but the comment stuck with Nigel. That teasing remark hit deep. It didn’t bother him, though. On the contrary, he liked it. For the rest of the workout, he couldn’t stop thinking about how his body was changing, about how much Dom43 would enjoy watching him soften up.

When he got home, he quickly stripped off his clothes and looked in the mirror. He touched his stomach, which was no longer as flat as it once was, and caressed the soft roundness beginning to form on his rear. Mark’s words echoed in his mind, and at that moment, Nigel couldn’t resist any longer. He collapsed onto his bed and jerked off, reaching the most intense climax of his life. What had started as a simple game to make some money had now completely consumed him.

The month had come to an end, and Nigel was ready. He carefully set up the camera, making sure the lighting was perfect, bright enough to highlight every change in his body, to show Dom43 the results of his effort. He stood in front of the mirror, took a deep breath, and began undressing slowly, recording the whole process. First, he removed his shirt, revealing his torso. His chest, once firm and defined, now had a slight sag to it. His belly, swollen and covered by a soft layer of fat, folded into rolls when he bent slightly. Then he pulled down his pants, leaving him in his tight white briefs, which now clung to him like never before. His thighs were noticeably thicker. But the real surprise came when he turned around. His ass, bigger and rounder, seemed to want to burst out of the tight fabric. The briefs could barely contain it. He gently touched his ass, feeling its fullness. Without missing a beat, he moved to the scale he had placed in front of the camera. He stepped on it carefully, watching the numbers climb rapidly. And there it was, the number that left him stunned: 191 pounds. He had gained fifteen pounds instead of the ten Dom43 had asked for. Five extra pounds, the result of his complete submission to food. Seeing the number, Nigel instantly got hard, unable to help himself.

“A hundred and ninety-one...” he muttered to himself.

Without thinking any further, he let the excitement take over. He jerked off in front of the camera, his breath ragged, and his moans filling the room. He did it for Dom43, but also for himself, for everything he had discovered about himself in the process.

Once finished, he sent the private video with a mix of anxiety and satisfaction, eagerly awaiting Dom43’s response. It didn’t take long to arrive: a payment confirmation accompanied by a comment that made Nigel shiver. “You’re a pathetic pig. You gained all this weight just because I told you to. I love it.” Nigel read aloud quietly. “I’ll give you ten thousand dollars more if you gain another twenty pounds in two months. Do you dare to become my fantasy?”

Nigel sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his still-naked, slightly sweaty body after the recording. His phone’s screen glowed with Dom43’s message: ten thousand dollars to gain another twenty pounds. The offer was tempting, too tempting. With that kind of money, he wouldn’t have to make more videos for months. He could take a break from his online life and focus on something else. Just the thought of that financial freedom made him feel relieved. But there was something more—a deep desire to please Dom43, to follow his orders, to submit to whatever he asked. It consumed him inside. He had discovered a new form of pleasure. Every pound he gained, every humiliating comment, ignited something within him that he had never felt before. Pleasing Dom43 had become almost an addiction. Yet, fear lingered in the background. He had already gained fifteen pounds, and although he initially thought he could lose it easily, he was starting to doubt whether the same would be true for thirty-five pounds. What if he couldn’t? What if continuing to gain weight destroyed the success of his OnlyFans account?

***

Nigel never imagined he would lose so much control. What started as a challenge, almost a game, had become a new reality. In just a month and a half of nonstop eating, he had gained the twenty-pounds Dom43 requested, pushing his body to limits he had never thought possible. Now weighing 211 pounds, the man he saw in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. His belly hung over the waistband, his thighs rubbed together with every step, and his once firm chest now bounced lightly with each movement. But the most shocking transformation of all was his ass, now enormous, two soft masses that jiggled with every step. And for some reason, that excited him more than it scared him.

When he arrived at the gym one afternoon, Mark greeted him with his usual mocking grin.

"Well, look who's here: my star client," Mark said sarcastically, his eyes scanning Nigel’s new body.

Throughout the workout, Mark made constant comments about his weight. Every time Nigel did a squat or lifted weights, he could feel Mark’s eyes on him, watching how his belly wobbled or how his ass strained against his shorts, which barely contained it anymore. But the most intense moment came after the workout when Nigel stepped out of the showers. As he was drying off, he noticed Mark watching him from across the locker room.

"Jesus, man..." Mark said, his eyes trailing over Nigel’s naked body. "You're huge. Like, seriously."

Before Nigel could respond, Mark stepped closer and gave him a smack on the ass. The sound echoed in the room, and Nigel’s butt cheeks rippled under Mark’s firm hand like jello. Nigel felt his face heat up, a mix of shame and arousal spreading over his skin.

"Damn," Mark laughed, "that moves like jello. What have you been eating, ice cream by the gallon? You’re getting obese, dude."

Nigel couldn’t answer, his throat dry, his mind stuck on the echo of Mark’s words. Obese. It was the first time anyone had called him that, and instead of being offended, the word hit him like a lightning bolt of pure desire. He tried to laugh, but the sound came out weak, almost choked.

He stood in front of the camera, taking deep breaths as he prepared for his second private session with Dom43. Like before, he undressed slowly, savoring each moment. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a torso that no longer had any trace of the firm muscles he once prided himself on. His chest was soft and round, visibly moving with each breath. His nipples had widened and felt unusually sensitive as he brushed his fingers over them. Then he slid off his pants, left in the same white briefs from the previous video. This time, they felt like a cruel joke. The edges dug into his hips and thighs, squeezing him in a way that was both uncomfortable and intensely arousing. His swollen belly hung slightly over the waistband, which seemed ready to give up the fight. Nigel turned to face the camera, letting it capture the most obvious change of all: his ass. It completely filled the briefs, making them look absurdly small. The fabric was stretched to its limit, with the tops of his cheeks spilling over, exposing the crack as if the briefs couldn’t possibly contain so much mass. He gave a slight shake, and his ass jiggled, continuing to bounce for a few seconds before settling. Seeing himself like that—so exposed, so impossibly large—sent a wave of arousal through him that nearly made him lose control right then and there. Nigel couldn’t help but smile. He knew Dom43 would love seeing what he had accomplished. The high point of the video came when he stepped onto the scale, carefully positioned in front of the camera. He showed the result: 211 pounds. Thirty-five pounds more than he weighed when this all began. He couldn’t help himself; the thrill of having transformed for someone else, of having fully surrendered to it, overwhelmed him. Once again, he masturbated in front of the camera, but this time, the orgasm was more intense, more liberating. His breath grew ragged, and every curve of his body shook with the force of his release.

When it was over, he sent the video to Dom43. The payment came through quickly, but what made Nigel’s heart race wasn’t the large sum of money. It was the words that followed.

“You’ve become my obedient pig. You’re good for nothing but getting fatter. You should be ashamed of how far you’ve fallen, but the worst part is, I know you love it.”

Nigel swallowed hard, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach. It was true. He loved every humiliating word, every cruel comment that made him feel smaller, more submissive, despite his growing size. But it was the last line of the message that left him frozen.

“I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars if you gain another thirty pounds.”

***

Nigel was nervous. It had been over two months since he last filmed a video for his regular OnlyFans subscribers, and now, with his body drastically transformed, he had no idea how they would react. He wanted to see if the weight gain had changed anything, if his fans were still interested in him despite the fact that he no longer had the muscular, chiseled physique that had attracted them in the first place. Deep down, he hoped it wouldn’t matter too much, that they would still desire him, and that he wouldn’t have to rely on Dom43 to stay financially stable. He set up the camera like always, but this time, he took a longer look at himself in the mirror. It was incredible how much his body had changed in just two months. His body felt heavy. Every movement made him more aware of his size.

"It's just a video," he whispered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. "I just want to see how they react."

He stood in front of the camera, shirtless, revealing his round, soft torso, wearing only a pair of black briefs that used to be loose on him. He did the usual gestures he used in his videos, showing his body from different angles, touching his chest and stomach, running his hands over the areas now covered in fat.

He uploaded the video.

The first responses came in quickly. As soon as he read the comments, his fears were confirmed. There was no acceptance, no admiration. Just criticism, mockery, and, above all, shock.

“What happened to you? You used to look incredible, but now you look like a different person,” wrote one of his longtime followers.

“You’re huge! And not in a good way. What kind of joke is this?” added another.

The comments kept coming, each one harsher than the last. They called him fat and disgusting. Some even felt betrayed by the change, as if Nigel had deliberately hidden what he’d been doing over the past few months. Others openly laughed at him, making fun of how his body had lost all definition. Nigel read every word, feeling a mix of humiliation and indescribable excitement. He had expected a negative reaction, but the brutal honesty of their attacks surpassed all his expectations. Far from feeling defeated, something dark and deep inside him awakened. Each insult, each criticism, made him feel more alive, more aware of his body and what he had achieved. The taunts about his physique didn’t discourage him; they aroused him in a way he couldn’t ignore. It was as if those words freed him. He didn’t want to go back. He wanted to push forward. He turned off his computer screen and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Dom43 had offered him twenty thousand dollars to gain another thirty pounds. Thirty pounds that would transform him even more, taking him to a new level of submission. He had thought about rejecting the offer, about going back to his former physique. But after reading his fans’ comments, after feeling the impact of their words on his body, there was no longer any doubt. With a smile on his face, Nigel decided he was going to accept the challenge. He was ready to fully give in, to see just how far he could go.

***

Nigel stopped going to the gym altogether. Every morning, he woke up to the same routine: eat, jerk off, and eat more. His appetite seemed endless, and his libido was out of control, higher than ever. The discipline he once had had crumbled, replaced by an obsession with giving in to food and the thrill of his own transformation. His clothes no longer fit. The jeans, tight shirts, and briefs that had once defined his muscular figure now wouldn't even make it past his thighs or tore when he tried putting them on. Soon, he realized the only piece of clothing that still fit him was an old tracksuit, and even that didn’t fit well—it was so tight that the fabric stretched ridiculously, and his belly stuck out. He only wore it when he went out to buy more food, but at home, he spent his days completely naked.

In three months, Nigel had gained another thirty-five pounds, surpassing even Dom43’s challenge. His body was unrecognizable, and the scale didn’t lie. He weighed 246 pounds, a number he’d never imagined reaching. His thighs were so thick they had changed the way he walked. His belly was soft, round, and hung over. His arms, once firm, were now wrapped in fat. And his chest, completely soft, jiggled with even the slightest movement. He knew it was time to film the video for Dom43. He prepared in the simplest and most provocative way possible: completely naked, with a box of donuts by his side and the scale ready to show the result. The camera started rolling, and Nigel let himself get caught up in the moment. He grabbed one of the donuts and bit into it slowly, letting the sugar slide down his lips as he chewed exaggeratedly. He knew Dom43 would love to see him like this, enjoying the food that had turned him into what he was now.

“I’ve surpassed your challenge,” Nigel said, his voice thick with pleasure as he bit into another donut. “Another thirty-five pounds. I hope you’re happy.”

He stood up with difficulty, his ass visibly bouncing as he walked toward the scale. He stepped onto it with some effort, and it stopped at 246 pounds. Nigel showed the number to the camera with a satisfied grin on his face.

“246 pounds,” he said with pride in his voice. “But that’s not all.”

He grabbed a measuring tape and started measuring his body. First, he wrapped it around his waist.

“Fifty inches,” he announced, staring at his belly.

Then he measured his ass, which had turned into a massive ball of fat, and the number was just as shocking.

“Fifty-three inches. I can’t even fit in my office chair.”

Nigel paused for a moment, looking at the camera with a euphoric expression.

“All of this... is for you, Dom43. I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

He ended the video with one last bite, chewing slowly as he jiggled his whole body while masturbating. When he finished, he turned off the camera and collapsed onto the couch, panting from exhaustion. He sent the video to Dom43 and waited, knowing the response wouldn’t take long. When it came, it was exactly what he expected.

“You’ve exceeded my expectations, pig. I never imagined you’d reach this point, that you’d become such a mountain of fat for me. Look at yourself, you’re pathetic, completely out of control. And you know what? I love it. You’ve done everything I asked and more. You’re the perfect submissive fat boy. You’re good for nothing but eating, getting fatter, and letting others laugh at you. But I must also say, I’m proud of you. You’ve proven you’re completely mine, willing to transform yourself this way just to please me. You’re incredible, in the worst way possible, of course, but that’s exactly where your greatness lies.”

Nigel stared at the screen, absorbed in the words. He had done everything Dom43 had wanted. And yet, he felt he could go further. The idea of gaining even more weight, of leaving behind any trace of his former self, called to him with unstoppable force. Without thinking too much, he typed the question that had been on his mind for days, a question that made him tremble with anticipation:

“How much will you pay me if I reach 300 pounds?”

The silence that followed for a few seconds was deafening, but Dom43’s response came quickly.

“I’m not paying you anything. This time, you won’t do it for the money. I want you to do it for me, because you can’t stop yourself now. I want you to gain until you reach 300 pounds just to please me, because now you know that’s the only thing that turns you on. You’ll do it because you belong to me.”

Nigel took a deep breath, feeling each word of that message wrap around him, filling him with a mix of submission and absolute pleasure. He knew Dom43 was right. It was no longer about the money. It was about something much bigger. What had started as a simple desire to fulfill a fantasy had become his reality. With trembling fingers, he typed the only thing he knew he could say at that moment, the only thing his mind and cock screamed for with overwhelming clarity:

“I’ll do it.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Remy fic for @littlekidsteve

It has only been a little while since you and Remy had managed to escape the void along with Electra, Laura and Blade before biding them farewell, all the while you and Remy took a long walk as you both tried to figure out what you were going to do now that you were free.

Out of everyone you and Remy were the closet and so the idea of saying goodbye to one another after everything felt wrong, Remy had become apart of you as you became a vital part of him, so much so to the point neither of you could fathom an life without the other being apart of it some way or another.

‘Got any plans now that we’ve escaped the void?’ You asked him and he hums while shuffling his playing cards, a habit you noticed he had whether he was in need of a distraction or in deep thought.

‘I have been in the void for so long that I didn’t think I’d ever get out mon Cher, nor would get out so I made my inescapable prison a home, so all this is…rather new to me.’ Remy admits as he looked over at you with a soft expression before nudging you with his shoulder. ‘You have lived a life before the void, I think you’d be better suited for that question.’

You chuckled as you rubbed the back of your neck. ‘Yeah well I’m pretty sure they’ve pruned it by now, so I’m just as lost as you are and I haven’t been in the Void nearly as long as you have.’ You told him and Remy couldn’t help but chuckle as he went to grab your hand, intertwining it with his own. ‘Then we shall find a way to navigate our new life, together.’ He promised as he then brought your hand up to his lips before softly kissed it.

‘You promise?’ You asked.

‘I promise mon Cher.’ Remy echoed and suddenly everything felt like it was going to be okay, the void was long behind you both as the future was on the horizon, waiting for your both to take it

And soon enough with time and patience you and Remy found yourselves in your own little apartment -that was funnily enough not far from where Wade, Blind Al and Logan lived- and living a quiet, domestic lifestyle, just like you had wanted for a long time but couldn’t due to certain circumstances. You couldn’t help but smile softly upon first seeing Remy with an peaceful expression on his face as he slept, he looked beautiful and at ease with everything that you found yourself admiring him in silence, not wanting to ruin this moment by sneezing or shifting your weight and waking him by accident.

‘Wade is right. You are beautiful.’ You muttered lowly as you memorised his face and the way the light from the window made his skin glow an almost golden hue, making him look ethereal, as you took the time to appreciate the way his eyelashes kissed the apples of his cheeks. Remy was a handsome man and you were in no shape or form to deny it when you were more then aware of this face since the moment you met, but it wasn’t his physical appearance that drew you in but more or less his heart and his ability to light up anything that he touched, and soon enough you found yourself falling for the Cajun Frenchman more then you’d originally thought.

Remy has consumed your every waking and sleeping thought, claimed your body and heart as his own with how his eyes never seemed to leave you the moment you entered the room, smiling at you warmly before cross over to stand next to you for the rest of the day while occasionally showing off a new card trick he learnt. Even during combat Remy would stay close by to keep you safe when he felt that someone was getting too close for comfort by throwing one of his kinetically charged playing cards at them, and when you look over at him he just winks at you and continues the fight.

‘I can sense you watching me mon Cher.’ Remy said as he smiles cheekily, opening one eye to look at you as he brought a hand behind your head, pulling you in for a brief but sweet kiss before pulling away to look at you. ‘Am I really as beautiful as you say?’ He adds in a whisper as though he didn’t want anyone else to hear your conversation.

‘You can’t be blind to your own beauty can you Remy?’ You asked as you moved a hand to rest upon his chest, tapping your fingers against his skin in an unheard rhythm.

‘I’m not, I just want to hear you say it.’ Remy replied as he found his eyes wandering across your face with fondness and admiration. You couldn’t help but laugh as you rested your head against his chest, nuzzling into him. ‘You are indeed beautiful Remy Lebeau, the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on.’ You admit as you look at him, pressing a kiss to his chin as you felt his arms tighten on you, restraining you from moving away from him.

‘You flatter me Cher, but it is you who’s the most beautiful.’ Remy says as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, breathing in the shampoo and conditioner you used and closing his eyes, never having the luxury of experiencing peace before in his life but finding himself falling in love with it as fast as he did with you. Remy felt as though he could stay in this bed forever with you but knew with your plans for later today he wouldn’t, though that didn’t stop him from doing whatever he could to keep you in his arms.

‘Wade, Logan, Laura and their friends are coming over soon.’ You murmured.

‘I know.’ Remy relied.

‘We should get up soon.’ You continued.

‘I know.’ Remy repeated as he kissed your head again, cuddling you further into his chest. ‘We’ll get up soon, but for now can we just…stay here, please Cher.’ He adds in a plea and you couldn’t help but feel yourself slipping into sleep the longer you stayed in Remy’s comforting and strong arms.

‘I guess five minutes wouldn’t hurt.’ You said as you nuzzled yourself into his neck, kissing it. ‘Then we’ll have to…to…wake.’ Before you could finish your sentence you had found yourself fast asleep as Remy smiled down at you. ‘I’m sure they won’t mind Cherie, they’ll understand.’ He says before joining you in dream land.

Bonus:

‘Where the fuck are they?!’ Wade shouted as he, Logan, Laura, Al, dogpool and the rest of his friends stood outside in the hallway to yours and Remy’s apartment after banging on the door for the past five minutes.

‘They’re probably still asleep, best we leave them be before we fucking wake the rest of the apartment complex.’ Logan said, side eyeing Wade as he sifted the welcome gifts in his arms.

Wade pouts and just as they were about to leave, a rugged and scruffy looking you and Remy opened the door to greet them as Wade laughs. ‘You two looked like as though we’ve interrupted something between you two.’ Wade the leaned towards you to whisper. ‘Is the French dick that good?’ You glared at him as you flicked him on the forehead, watching him as he winced and rubbed his forehead with a pout.

‘We may or may not have overslept thanks to someone.’ You nudged Remy in the side as he smiles cheekily and brings an arm to your waist, tugging you into his side. ‘Guilty as charged.’ He said proudly as you both stepped aside for everyone to enter your shared apartment before joining them, happy to have known such weird yet beautiful people.

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : IMAGINE OLDMAN!LOGAN COMFORTING YOU AFTER YOU TELL HIM YOU ARE NOT READY TO HAVE SEX YET : :;

You had both been slowly building up to this, sharing more intimate moments together, and tonight was supposed to be the night. The night where the closeness you shared with Logan was going to go further, physically, emotionally. You wanted it. You wanted him. But now, here you were, frozen, too overwhelmed by nerves to move forward.

You could feel Logan’s eyes on you, his gaze filled with concern as you pulled the covers over yourself, avoiding his gaze. Things had started with gentle touches, a few lingering kisses, and you had been eager at first—until that all-too-familiar anxiety had crept in. The further it went, the more your body tensed, and Logan, always in tune with your emotions, had stopped.

“Hey,” his voice was low, steady, like he was trying to coax you out of a shell. “You alright?”

You swallowed hard, your breath shaky as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. The shame of not being able to follow through hit you full force, making it hard to meet his eyes. “I—I don’t know,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I thought I was ready, but…”

Before you could finish, Logan’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his rough thumb brushing over your skin with surprising tenderness. “Don’t apologize, darlin’,” he murmured, the deep rumble of his voice easing some of the tension in your chest. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything.”

“I just… I wanted this to be perfect,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I thought I was ready, but I got scared. Now I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, and he leaned in closer, his face softening as he spoke. “You didn’t ruin anything.” His hand stayed on your cheek, grounding you with that touch. “We don’t have to do this tonight.”

“I wanted to, though,” you confessed, your voice shaky. “I wanted to be with you like that. I just got in my own head, and then I panicked.” You glanced down at the space between you, feeling so small in the moment. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Logan’s gaze softened even more, and with a sigh, he gently took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You could never disappoint me,” he said firmly, yet his tone was so kind, so understanding. “I don’t care about how tonight was supposed to go. I care about how you feel.”

You blinked up at him, trying to process his words, but the anxiety still lingered, twisting in your chest. “But I stopped us,” you whispered. “I messed it up.”

He shook his head. “No, you didn’t. This ain’t something we gotta rush into, alright? We’re gonna take our time, and if it doesn’t happen tonight, that’s fine.” His thumb traced gentle circles on your hand. “I’m in this for you, not for some idea of how things ‘should’ go.”

Your chest ached with emotion at his words, and you felt your eyes sting with unshed tears. “I just wanted it to be special.”

Logan leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It is special,” he whispered against your skin. “Every moment with you is.”

Your heart swelled, and for the first time that night, you let yourself breathe deeply, the weight of your nervousness easing just a little. “You’re really okay with just… stopping?”

Logan pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression tender. “Of course, I am. I don’t need anything else from you tonight, other than you being comfortable. That’s all I ever want.” He shifted closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. “We’ve got time, darlin’. There’s no rush.”

A small, shaky smile tugged at your lips, and you let yourself relax into his embrace. “I’m sorry for getting so worked up.”

Logan huffed softly, shaking his head as he pressed another kiss to your temple. “What did I say about apologizin’, huh?” His voice was light, teasing, but still full of that same warmth. “You don’t owe me an apology for anything. I’m just glad you’re here, with me.”

You closed your eyes, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. The anxiety that had gripped you earlier seemed to fade, replaced by the simple comfort of being in Logan’s arms, safe and understood.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” you whispered softly.

Logan held you close, his hand stroking gently through your hair, and for a long while, the two of you sat in the quiet, just breathing together, just being together.

Maybe tonight hadn’t gone the way you planned, but Logan’s words stayed with you. It was special, because it was the two of you, and that was more than enough.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @h0n3y-l3m0n05

If you want to be added to the Logan tag list, let me know! 🫶

[buckets-and-trees]

Bird On A Wire

Characters/Pairings: Mafia!Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader x Mafia!Steve Word Count: 4.3k Summary: Caught by two dangerous men, you see the skies ahead for you as their little bird. Sequel to Little Lark.

Content/Warnings: dub-con, explicit smut, cockwarming, oral (male receiving), PIV sex, anal fingering (female receiving), use of pet name (little lark), dacryphilia, so much praise kink

Author Notes: Week eight of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - using the COCKWARMING and dialogue prompts (dialogue prompt bold/italicized) - and filling my May box for Build-a-Bucky Bingo with PRAISE KINK.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The next morning, you were on a flight to New York City. Private jet. In the clothes you’d worn yesterday, but they’d been laundered overnight. You’d slept naked in the bed of Barnes and Rogers - with what little sleep they allowed you to have.

You’d been allowed a few hours of sleep just before dawn and given a modicum of reprieve as the men woke for the day, ordered room service, and got to business. When your laundered clothes had been delivered, they’d plucked you out of bed, and told you to dress and be ready to leave within a few minutes.

You sat stiffly in the plush leather seat. As the jet soared over the clouds, you stared out the window, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The events of the past 24 hours felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from. Your body ached, a constant reminder of the previous night's activities. The sapphire pendant hung heavy around your neck, its weight a physical manifestation of your new reality.

Bucky and Steve sat across from you. You tried not to look at them, but your eyes kept darting over, drawn by some magnetic pull you couldn't explain.

Steve was typing away on a laptop while Bucky leafed through some papers, both of them seemingly unconcerned with your presence. You tried to steady your breathing, to appear calm, but your mind raced with questions and fears about what awaited you in New York.

You couldn't help but marvel at how normal they seemed in the light of day, dressed in crisp suits, sipping coffee. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were just successful businessmen.

"We'll be landing in about an hour," Steve informed you, breaking into your thoughts. "Once we're home, we'll get you settled in."

Home. The word felt foreign. You wondered what kind of life awaited you in New York.

"I… I don't have any of my things," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky looked up from his papers, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry, little lark. We'll take care of everything you need."

Steve nodded in agreement. "You'll want for nothing. Clothes, toiletries, anything you require - it's all been arranged." His eyes roamed over you appreciatively. "We take care of what's ours."

You shivered at his words, unsure if it was from fear or something else entirely. The way they looked at you made you feel both terrified and oddly… desired.

But the implication was clear: they had planned this, had known exactly how things would unfold. You swallowed hard, trying to process the level of control they already had over your life.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "And my family? You said... you said you knew about them."

"Safe and sound," Bucky assured you, his tone oddly gentle. "We've already arranged for their debts to be cleared and their protection to be... ongoing."

Steve's eyes narrowed slightly. "As far as they know, you've accepted a lucrative job offer in New York. They’ll believe you’re busy, and you will be.”

"What exactly am I supposed to do?" you asked, voicing another of the many questions swirling in your mind. "You said you don't need an assistant..."

Steve closed his laptop and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Your job, sweetheart, is to keep us happy.”

“In every way,” Bucky added.

You felt your face flush at their words, memories of the previous night flashing through your mind. You looked down at your hands, fidgeting in your lap.

"What does that mean exactly?"

Steve reached across and took your hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. "It means you'll be by our side, day and night. At home, at social events, in business meetings. You'll learn to anticipate our needs, to be whatever we require in the moment."

Bucky's eyes glinted as he added, "And in private, you'll pleasure us. Satisfy our every desire."

Your breath caught in your throat. The reality of your situation was sinking in deeper with each passing moment.

"But I'm not... I don't have experience with..." you trailed off, embarrassed.

Steve's eyes darkened, a predatory glint appearing. "Oh, you can. And you will."

Bucky set aside his papers and leaned forward, mirroring Steve's posture. "We're not unreasonable men, little lark. Please us, and you'll find life can be very... pleasurable."

The implication in his tone made you shiver. You remembered all too well the sensations they had drawn from your body the night before, against your will and better judgment.

"But disappoint us," Steve continued, his voice low and dangerous, "and there will be consequences.”

You felt every muscle in your body tense.

Steve’s phone buzzed, and he stood abruptly, dropping your hand and walking away to take the call.

“We’ll start with something simple.” Bucky reached for your other hand and guided you to your feet. The jet's cabin suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. You could smell his cologne - a heady mix of sandalwood and something distinctly masculine.

"Let's see how well you can follow instructions," Bucky murmured, his voice low and husky. His steel-blue eyes locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. "Take off your panties."

Your breath caught in your throat, heart pounding. You glanced nervously at Steve, still on his phone call at the other end of the cabin.

"Eyes on me, little lark," Bucky commanded softly, drawing your attention back. "Steve's busy. This is between you and me right now."

With trembling hands, you reached under your skirt. You hesitated for a moment before slowly sliding your panties down your legs, stepping out of them. Bucky's gaze never wavered, patient but unyielding. Bucky held out his hand and you placed the delicate fabric in his palm. He brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply before pocketing them with a smirk.

"Good girl," he praised. "Now, unzip my pants and take my cock out."

Your eyes widened, darting nervously to Steve again. He was still engrossed in his call, pacing at the far end of the cabin.

“Lark,” Bucky growled, and your eyes darted back to him, the warning clear. “I said eyes on me,” he reminded, bringing his hand to your cheek, and tracing along the edge of your jaw. You knew the tender gesture was a signal that he could grip your jaw and force you to do what he wanted.

You knelt before him, and with shaking hands, you reached for his belt buckle. The leather was soft and supple under your fingers as you worked it open. Bucky's breath hitched slightly as your knuckles brushed against his abdomen. You fumbled with the button of his trousers before managing to undo it, then slowly lowered the zipper.

Bucky's eyes never left your face, watching your every reaction. You could feel the heat radiating from Bucky's body, smell his intoxicating scent.

Your fingers trembled as you reached into Bucky's pants, feeling the heat of his skin. You carefully extracted his cock, already half-hard and impressive in size. The weight of it in your hand made your breath catch. You stroked him tentatively, marveling at the contrast of soft skin over rigid flesh.

Bucky's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. "That's it, little lark. Nice and slow," he murmured, voice husky.

You continued your ministrations, feeling him grow fully erect under your touch. Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. The cabin suddenly felt too warm, too small. Everything the night before had been the two of them working you while you took what they gave. It was different now with you being the one taking action.

"Enough," Bucky growled softly after a few moments. He grasped your wrist, stilling your movements. "Up in my lap."

Heart pounding, you obeyed as he tugged you up and guided you to straddle his waist. You tentatively braced your hands on his shoulders. He pushed your skirt up and out of the way, before guiding you onto his cock. “You’ll warm my cock the rest of the flight, maybe this’ll help you relax.”

Your trembled and gasped as he pulled your hips down. He found little resistance, as your traitorous body was already growing slick for him, but your cunt was sore from taking their enormous cocks the night before. Quiet tears slipped down your face, but you bit your lip, not wanting to make him unhappy.

He brushed one of your tears away with his thumb and smiled at you, half tender, half patronizing.

Your breath caught as you felt Bucky's cock stretching you, filling you completely. He held you still once you were fully seated, hand gripping your hip firmly.

"There's my good girl," he murmured, brushing his lips against your ear. Then he gently coaxed your head onto his shoulder. "Now, stay nice and still. Don't move unless I tell you to."

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. The position was intimate, almost unbearably so. You could feel every twitch of Bucky's cock inside you, every slight shift of his body. Your thighs trembled with the effort of staying still.

Steve's voice drifted over from the other end of the cabin as he continued his phone call. The normalcy of his tone, discussing what sounded like business matters, was a stark contrast to your current situation. You felt exposed, vulnerable, even though you were still fully clothed. Your face burned with shame and arousal. You couldn't believe you were doing this, sitting in Bucky's lap with his cock inside you while Steve was just feet away.

When you heard Steve’s footsteps approaching a few minutes later, you tensed.

"Good girl," he praised, one hand moving to stroke your back soothingly. "You're doing so well."

“Isn’t she?” Bucky cooed.

And your body betrayed you again, clenching around Bucky's length over their praise.

Bucky chuckled darkly.

“She like that, Buck?”

"Mmm,” he hummed. “Our little lark is a slut for praise.”

Steve chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Is that so?" Steve crouched down beside Bucky’s seat. His hand came to rest on your thigh, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Look at me, sweetheart."

Hesitantly, you lifted your head from Bucky's shoulder and met Steve's intense gaze. His blue eyes were dark with desire, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Such a good girl," Steve murmured, his hand sliding higher up your thigh. "Taking Bucky's cock so well. I bet you're dripping wet, aren't you?"

You whimpered softly, unable to form words. Steve's fingers ghosted over your clit, making you jerk slightly in Bucky's lap. Bucky's grip on your hip tightened in warning.

"Answer him," Bucky’s town was low but sharp.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I'm wet."

Steve's smirk widened. "Of course you are. Your body knows what it needs, even if your mind hasn't caught up yet." His fingers continued their teasing exploration, circling your clit with feather-light touches. "You're going to learn to crave this, sweetheart. To need us."

A soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it. Your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more friction. Bucky's grip tightened further, holding you still.

"Ah ah," he chided softly. "I said don't move unless I tell you to."

"S-sorry," you gasped, trying to regain control of your body.

Steve chuckled, his fingers never ceasing their torturous ministrations, tracing where you were stretched around Bucky's cock. The dual sensation of being filled by Bucky and teased by Steve was overwhelming. Your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more friction.

Bucky gave a warning slap to your ass, and you hissed from the sting.

You froze, trying desperately to stay still despite the sensations overwhelming you. Tears pricked at your eyes from the effort and the conflicting emotions swirling within you.

"Shh, it's okay," Steve soothed, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. "We know it's hard for you. You're doing so well."

His praise sent another surge of arousal through you, making you clench around Bucky's cock. Bucky groaned softly, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Such a responsive little thing," he murmured, nuzzling against your neck. "We're going to have so much fun with you."

Steve's fingers continued their teasing, circling your clit with maddeningly light touches. Your thighs trembled with the effort of staying still, your breath coming in short gasps.

Steve's eyes glinted with amusement. "I think our girl needs a lesson in true self-control, Buck. What do you say?"

Bucky nodded, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Couldn't agree more."

Your heart raced as you looked between them, uncertain of what they had in mind. Steve stood, towering over you, and began unbuckling his belt. The sound of leather sliding through fabric loops made you shiver.

"Open your mouth, little lark," Steve commanded, his voice low and husky.

You hesitated, glancing at Bucky, who gave you an encouraging nod. Slowly, you parted your lips, your breath coming in short, shallow pants.

Steve guided his cock to your mouth, rubbing the tip against your lips. "You're going to take me in your mouth while staying perfectly still on Bucky's cock.”

You trembled as Steve's thick length slid past your lips. The taste of him, musky and slightly salty, filled your senses. You struggled to relax your jaw, to accommodate his impressive size, fighting against how it ached from taking them both in your mouth in turns last night, too.

"That's it, sweetheart," Steve murmured, one hand tangling in your hair. "Nice and slow. Use your tongue."

You did as instructed, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as he pushed deeper into your mouth. All the while, you fought to keep your hips still, Bucky's cock a constant, throbbing presence inside you.

Bucky's hands roamed your body, teasing and caressing, kneading the fleshy parts of you everywhere, as ravenous for your hips as your stomach, your chest, your ass, your thighs . He cupped your breasts through your blouse, thumbs brushing over your nipples. The dual sensations - Steve in your mouth, Bucky inside you and touching you - were overwhelming.

"Look at her, Buck," Steve's voice was thick with desire as he slowly thrust into your mouth. "Look at how well she's taking us both. Such a good little cockwarmer."

You whimpered around Steve's length, the praise sending another surge of arousal through you. Your body trembled with the effort of staying still, every muscle taut as you fought against the urge to move.

Bucky's hands continued their exploration, one sliding beneath your blouse to palm your breast directly. His thumb brushed over your nipple, making you gasp around Steve's cock.

"That's it," Steve encouraged, his grip in your hair tightening slightly. "Just relax and let us use you. This is what you're made for."

Tears pricked at your eyes, a mix of shame and arousal overwhelming you. You felt split open, exposed, caught between these two powerful men who seemed determined to consume and control you.

The plane suddenly hit a patch of turbulence, jostling everyone. You gasped and instinctively clenched around Bucky, causing him to groan. Steve's cock slipped from your mouth as you struggled to maintain your balance.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" you began, panic rising in your chest.

"Shh, it's alright," Steve soothed, his hand gentle at the back of your neck. "That wasn't your fault."

Bucky's hands steadied you on his lap. "Deep breaths, little lark. You're doing so well."

Their unexpected gentleness made your eyes sting with unshed tears. You took a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself.

"Now, where were we?" Steve mused, guiding his cock back to your lips. "Open up, sweetheart."

You parted your lips obediently and Steve pushed in again, but even deeper into your mouth, the head of his cock nudging the back of your throat. Your jaw ached, stretched wide around his girth. Bucky's hands continued to roam your body, teasing and tormenting, while his cock remained buried inside you. The dual sensations were overwhelming, pleasure and discomfort blurring together.

"Such a good girl," Steve murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Taking us both so well." You whimpered around his length, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Gorgeous,” he added, letting his other hand play through your tear tracks.

The praise sent another surge of arousal through you, your body betraying you once again as you clenched around Bucky's cock. Bucky chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel how wet you are, little lark. Your body knows what it needs, even if you’re reluctant to accept your new life. But you’re dripping for us, desperate.”

You felt your face burn with shame at Bucky's words, knowing they were true. Despite your fear and uncertainty, your body was responding eagerly to their touch, craving more. Steve continued to thrust slowly into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. You struggled to breathe through your nose, tears streaming down your face.

"Look at me," Steve commanded softly. You raised your eyes to meet his intense gaze. "That's it. I want to see those pretty eyes while I fuck your mouth."

A muffled whimper escaped you, the dual sensations of Steve's cock in your mouth and Bucky's inside you becoming consuming every fiber of your being, every ounce of your existence.

Steve's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more insistent. You struggled to keep up, your jaw aching as you tried to accommodate his impressive girth. His blue eyes, dark with desire, never left yours as he fucked your mouth with increasing fervor.

"That's it, little lark," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly. "Take it all."

You could feel him swelling, growing impossibly harder on your tongue. The taste of him intensified - salty, musky, undeniably male. Your senses were overwhelmed, filled with nothing but Steve and Bucky.

Steve's breathing grew ragged, his thrusts more erratic. "I'm close," he warned, his grip tightening in your hair. "You're going to swallow every drop, understand?"

You whimpered around his cock, tears streaming down your face.

Bucky's hands continued their torturous exploration of your body, one hand kneading your breast while the other slipped between your legs. His fingers found your clit, circling it with maddening lightness. You moaned around Steve's cock, your hips twitching involuntarily.

"Ah ah," Bucky chided, stilling his movements. You mewled in protest of losing his ministrations to your throbbing clit, but in the next instant, Steve’s hips jerked forward, and he groaned, burying his cock deep in your throat as he began to climax. The first pulse of his release hit the back of your throat, hot and thick. You struggled not to gag, tears streaming down your face as you fought to swallow around his length.

"That's it," Steve growled, his voice strained. "Take it all."

Wave after wave of his seed flooded your mouth, coating your tongue with its salty-sweet flavor. You swallowed frantically, trying to keep up with the copious amount. Some escaped the corners of your lips, trickling down your chin.

Steve's hand tightened at the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he continued to empty himself into your mouth. The taste, the scent, the feeling of being so thoroughly used - it all overwhelmed your senses.

As Steve's release finally subsided, he slowly withdrew from your mouth, a string of saliva and cum connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. You gasped for air, your jaw aching and your throat raw. Steve's thumb brushed over your swollen lips, smearing the mixture of his seed and your saliva.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, his voice low and satisfied. "You took it all so well."

Bucky's fingers resumed their torture of your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You trembled in his lap, fighting against the urge to move, to seek more friction.

"I think our little lark deserves a reward, don't you, Steve?" Bucky's voice was husky in your ear.

Steve nodded, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't agree more."

Before you could process what was happening, Bucky's hands gripped your hips, and he fucked up into you, violently, but you welcomed it with a debauched moan, clutching tightly to his shoulders as he drove into your aching, needy cunt.

Bucky's pace was relentless, his cock driving into you with bruising force. Your head fell back, a strangled cry escaping your lips as pleasure coursed through your body. The change from stillness to frenzied movement was jarring, overwhelming your senses.

Each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your head fell back, mouth open in a groan of ecstasy as he hit that perfect spot deep inside you. The cabin filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and your breathless moans.

"That's it, little lark," Bucky growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Sing for us. Let us hear your pretty sounds."

Steve's hand came to rest on your throat, not squeezing, just a gentle pressure. A reminder of his presence, of his control. "You're ours now," he murmured, his voice low and intense. "Every sound, every reaction - it all belongs to us."

You whimpered, caught between shame and arousal. Your body responded eagerly to their touches, to their words, even as your mind reeled with the implications of your new reality.

"Look at you," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Taking Bucky's cock so well. You were made for this, weren't you?"

You couldn't form words, could only whimper and nod as Bucky continued his merciless assault on your senses. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

"Tell us," Bucky demanded, his grip on your hips tightening. "Tell us how much you love it."

"I-I love it!” you cried.

Without warning, Steve plunged a finger into your ass, and the shock and overwhelming sensation sent you careening into a blinding orgasm. The clenching and convulsion of your cunt made Bucky jerk and then drill into you even faster, spilling his release in height of your climax.

You didn’t realize you were sobbing until Steve began soothing your back, petting up and down, cooing more soft praises as you struggled to stay coherent.

As the waves of your orgasm subsided, you collapsed against Bucky's chest, trembling and gasping for air. Your mind was a haze of pleasure and confusion, your body wrung out and oversensitive. Bucky's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he softened inside you.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You did so well."

Steve's hand continued its soothing motion along your back. "Beautiful," he added, his voice low and appreciative.

You felt tears pricking at your eyes again, overwhelmed by the intensity of what had just happened and the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Shame, arousal, fear, and a strange sense of... belonging? It was all too much.

"Shh, it's alright," Steve soothed, sensing your distress. "Let it out.”

After a few more minutes, once your breathing had finally returned to normal, you pushed back from Bucky’s chest, and made to move off his lap.

He tsked at you and frowned.

"Not yet, little lark," Bucky murmured, keeping you firmly seated on his lap. "I want you to feel me inside you a bit longer. Let it sink in who you belong to now."

You shivered at his words, acutely aware of his softening cock still nestled within you, still so big inside you. Your body felt boneless, wrung out from the intensity of your orgasm, and the sticky mix of your combined spend was weeping slightly around his cock, and you could feel it.

Steve's hand came to rest on the back of your neck, a gentle but possessive touch. "We're going to take such good care of you," he reminded, his voice low and soothing. "You'll want for nothing."

You nodded weakly, unable to form words. Your mind was still reeling, trying to process everything that had happened. You felt fresh tears welling up, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation and your own conflicted emotions. Part of you wanted to fight, to rebel against this new reality they were forcing upon you. But another part - a part that grew stronger with each passing moment - craved their touch, their approval.

"Look at me," Steve commanded softly, finally taking the seat again next to Bucky.

Hesitantly, you raised your eyes to meet his intense gaze. His blue eyes were dark with desire, but there was also a hint of something else - possessiveness, perhaps even tenderness.

"You're ours now," he said, his voice low and firm. "Everything about you belongs to us - your body, your pleasure, your pain. We'll push you to your limits and beyond, but we'll also take care of you in ways you've never imagined."

You shivered at his words, feeling a mix of fear and anticipation. Bucky's hands stroked soothingly along your sides, a stark contrast to the bruising grip he'd had on your hips moments ago.

"We know this is a lot to take in," Bucky murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "You'll learn to love it. To crave it."

As if to emphasize his point, he shifted slightly, and a soft moan left your lips.

Steve leaned in, his breath hot against your cheek. "Remember, little lark. Pleasure or pain - the choice is yours."

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Bucky drew a finger over your sapphire pendant, and Steve kissed you, licking into your mouth to taste his tang on your tongue. He didn’t relent until you were gasping for air. Then Bucky kissed your cheek, and Steve pushed your head gently down onto Bucky’s shoulder once more.

And the two resumed their business and idle chatter, while you floated away, exhausted, and your body gave way to peace while you could claim it.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

NEXT PART: Bird Home in the Darkness

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

[ohsc]

hiii idk if you take requests for smut but if you do i have an idea for sam, i just think sam would be such a gentle lover with an inexperienced reader and it’d be so 🫠🫠🫠

delicate.

sam winchester x fem!reader, 4.1k, nsfw 18+, fingering, p in v, praise, size kink if you squint, somewhat softdom!sam, inexperienced!reader — requests are open

Sam knew to be delicate with her.

As his hands traced the outline of her body through her clothes, as he felt the heat of her mouth against his own, the weight of her settled in his lap as they made out, he knew to keep his touch gentle, his kisses passionate yet not overbearing.

A few days before the first time they’d had sex, she’d gotten out through the hands that she’d used to hide her blushing face that she really hadn’t done much sexually before. Nothing more than a few PG-13 make out sessions and above-clothes groping. It had taken her a while to admit it, she’d been so horribly embarrassed, but Sam sat and rubbed her back as he listened, because he didn’t ever want her to feel embarrassed with him about that stuff.

Alright, he wasn’t exactly a saint. He’d gone to college, hooked up a bit, had a girlfriend, and then had his fair share of nights with other women afterwards until he met Y/N, but he didn’t see her any differently for not having done those things. It didn’t sit well with him that she might’ve been worried about his reaction to her sex life, or lack thereof.

In all honesty, it just made him want to make it special for her, as horribly cliché as that sounded.

So a few days after that conversation, he’d taken her virginity. It hadn’t been all rose petals and tea-light candles and silk sheets, but he’d dressed up nicely and taken her to dinner, took her back to a nicer motel room than they usually resided in, and took his time with her. Got himself accustomed to her body, her reactions, what she liked and didn’t like, what made her breathing shudder and left her keening beneath him. Left her satisfied enough to fall asleep happily in his arms once they’d finished, left himself burning with pride that he’d made her feel so good.

It had been some months since that night, and whilst they’d had sex a few more times since the first — he’d slowly introduced her to new things, had her cum around his cock and his fingers and on his tongue (which was his personal favourite), atop and beneath him, in a bed and a shower and on a sofa — she was still pretty shy. Sam thought it was fucking attractive that he could get her blushing and panting from a few simple touches, but he still didn’t tease her about it. He made sure to take his time, not to overwhelm her or take things too fast than she was comfortable with. She was still pretty new to it all, he wanted her to enjoy it, not feel like it was stressful.

He could barely contain the groan that rumbled from the back of his throat as he felt her hands thread through his hair, her smaller fingers curled around the strands in a way that drove him crazy. Seeing her slowly edge out of her shell over the past few months had been so fucking enjoyable, even when it was just down to simple touches like that. Four months ago and she would’ve asked three times before even just touching his hair.

“God, sweetheart-” His fingers flexed against her waist and brought her as close as physically possible, her thighs warm against his where they bracketed them, her stomach pressed against his. The shitty motel mattress beneath them shifted slightly as they both moved, springs complaining under the shift in weight, but neither of them paid it any mind. “Love it when you get so needy.”

A huff of breath escaped her lips and she mumbled something indignant against his open mouth, and Sam let out a soft laugh, tipped his head back just slightly to look at her flushed-pink face.

“What was that?”

“I said don’t make fun.” She grumbled, eyes dipping down, and Sam felt as her fingers slowly started to retract from his hair.

“Ah-ah,” his hand lifted, lightly gripping one of her forearms to keep them there, before his head dipped down to press a chaste kiss to her inner elbow. “I’m not making fun, not at all,” his head tipped enough to press another kiss higher up her arm, until the soft cotton of her t-shirt brushed against his nose. “You should know how much I love you like this.”

His mouth finally reached her neck, and one of his hands slid up the length of her back to cup the base of her skull, and he slowly tipped her head back until the skin of her neck was a little more exposed. He didn’t miss the little breathy noises that escaped her as he kissed her neck, it made his cock twitch in his jeans, the denim suddenly far too tight.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” he mumbled the words against her warm skin before his lips pressed to her pulse point, and he felt as her pulse drummed beneath her skin. He couldn’t help but smile against it as he lightly sucked the skin into his mouth, just enough to pull another gasp from the depths of her chest. “So pretty.”

“Sammy-” Her fingers were twitching in his hair, grasped lightly before she shifted in his lap a little, and he knew she was a little too worked up to keep up with the lighter touches. They’d been making out for a while now, it had slowly progressed from softer pecks and light giggles to that need that thrummed beneath their skin. He liked getting her properly worked up and ready for him.

He knew her body enough now to know that her restlessness meant she was exactly that. Ready.

Sam left one last kiss against her neck before he leaned back enough to look at her face, and with a much more loving kiss against her mouth, he lightly tugged at one of her belt loops and mumbled, “Wanna take these off for me, honey?”

She didn’t really hesitate and nodded, before she climbed off of his lap to take off her trousers, let the material fall to the floor before she���d climbed back in his lap again, and the sight of her straddling his thighs in just her panties and t-shirt was enough for his cock to throb.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Sam all but groaned as he leaned forwards to kiss her again. As his tongue probed at her bottom lip before it dipped into her mouth and licked behind her teeth, one of his hands gripped her hip, his other smoothed up the warm bare skin of her thigh before he cupped her sex through the cotton of her underwear, felt her warmth and her wetness, her light gasp into his open mouth at the touch. “All worked up for me, baby?”

She nodded dumbly, and a soft little gasp was pushed from her mouth as he slowly traced her through the wet fabric. “Please-”

“Shh, I know,” he pressed his lips to her cheek, her jaw, the side of her neck. “I know, just relax, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Sam’s fingers slipped beneath the elastic of her panties before he nudged two of his fingers through her folds, and as the warmth and the slick of her arousal coated them, his cock throbbed harder. “You’re already so wet for me,” he all but groaned into her neck as he started slowly rubbing her clit with the pads of his fingers. “So fucking perfect.”

Sam lived for the way she shuddered and gasped in his lap, the way he felt her fingers grip the material of his shirt as she tipped forwards slightly, her head rested against his. Though little gasped breathy noises were escaping her, she was still pretty quiet. Being noisy when they were having sex was something he knew she was shy about, but Sam didn’t urge her to be louder. He knew if he brought it up, it’d be all she’d think about, and he really didn’t want her to get in her own head about it. He much preferred letting her explore what she was comfortable with as he touched her, let her breathe her own reactions to the stimulation he provided until she was comfortable doing more.

This was all for her, after all.

Sam kissed and nibbled and sucked at her skin for a while as he paid close attention to her clit, switched from lazy circles with his fingers to long strokes against the length of them, until he and her and her underwear were completely soaked with her wetness. He didn’t try to move further until she was almost trembling in his lap, her hands grasped at his shoulders as she gasped and whimpered in response to his insistent rubbing.

His fingers lifted from her clit to press a little further into her underwear, and pressed the tip of his pointer finger against her entrance, holding it there as he murmured, “Is this okay?”

Y/N nodded immediately, and breathed out a “Please,” that sounded so deliciously needy that it took all he had not to cum in his fucking pants.

Sam slowly pushed his finger into her, felt the warmth and the tightness of her wet cunt around him, and fuck did he need to work her open a little before she’d be ready to take his cock.

His eyes flickered up to watch her expression as he slowly pumped his finger inside of her, and it was like fucking art the way she straddled his thighs, her hands grasped onto his shoulders, eyes half-lidded and lips parted enough to let out the soft breathy moans and whimpers every time his finger shifted to hit a spot inside of her that made her body shudder. He could watch her like that forever, could burn the image into his eyelids and happily stare at it any time he closed his eyes.

If that was her reaction to one finger, the thought of how she’d react to his cock fucking into her was enough to make him see stars.

When he added a second finger she keened and groaned, and the sound was so fucking good that Sam wanted to keep it, file it away in his brain to play whenever he wanted, whenever he needed to get himself off quickly in the shower on mornings he woke up with a hard on. It’d do the trick, Sam thought as he crooked his fingers inside of her and dragged out a replica of the first groan, it’d have him cumming in seconds.

Sam worked her open with his fingers until she was a mess, until all he heard was her blissful noises and the lewd wetness every time his fingers thrusted back inside of her. His free hand, which had been pressed against the small of her back to keep her close, lifted and cupped her face, and the fingers inside of her slowed to a lazy pace as he stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You wanna be on top, baby?”

She didn’t really respond. She’d gotten like this a few times, worked up and blissful to the point where she got a little lost, a little dazed. Sam’s thumb lightly pressed beneath her jaw and he tipped her head up, and the glassy look in her eyes was all he needed to see to know she needed to be brought back into herself.

“Hey,” his thumb stroked along her jaw a little firmly to ground her as his fingers stilled inside of her. “You with me, sweetheart?”

Y/N blinked, her lips parting with a soft breath before she mumbled, “Hm? Yeah, I’m-” She took a second breath. “Sorry-“

“Hey, no,” Sam shook his head, and slowly pulled his fingers out of her as he kissed her forehead. “Don’t apologise, you’re okay. Just breathe a moment.”

As she did as she was told and took some breaths, Sam never ceased the gentle rubbing of his thumb against her jaw. His eyes never left her face, he watched for any signs of discomfort, that she wanted to stop.

“You okay?”

She nodded, humming. “M’okay, I swear.”

“Still want to keep going?”

Again, she nodded. “Please.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Sam pressed a soft kiss against her lips, before he leaned back to look at her as he repeated his original question, “Do you want to be on top?”

He saw the moment she blushed, overcome with shyness once again. “I… whatever you want-”

“No,” Sam briefly kissed her again. “What do you want?”

She paused, and really seemed to think about it that time, before she whispered, “Can you?”

“Can I what? Be on top?”

She nodded.

Sam kissed her again. “Of course.”

He moved his hands to her hips to help her off of his lap, and once she was sat staring up at him, hands planted on the mattress behind her somewhat to keep herself held up, Sam stood up to shed himself of his jeans, and watched as Y/N stripped herself of her shirt and Christ, he thought it was hot undressing her himself, but he could watch her do it for hours.

When they were both stripped naked Sam climbed over her on the bed. The mattress squeaked it’s protest beneath them again as he settled over her, and Sam couldn’t help but close the distance to kiss her again. Her mouth was warm against his and he groaned into it as his body pressed down against hers, pretty much covering her completely. His hips pressed into hers, his hard cock slid through her folds easily with how wet she was, and she felt the shudder that ran through her at the movement.

He reached down with his free hand and gripped the base of his cock, and slowly dragged his head through her folds, nudging her clit and back down, collecting her slick wetness on himself until she was gasping and tipping her hips upwards beneath him, and Christ what a fucking sight that was.

Sam dipped his head down enough to kiss her softly, and mumbled into her mouth, “Still want to?”

Y/N nodded immediately, her breaths hot and heavy as she exhaled against his mouth. “Uh-huh, yes- please-”

“Okay, baby, alright,” he kissed her once more. “I’ve got you.”

Using the hand he had gripped at the base of his cock, Sam lined himself up against her entrance before he tipped his hips forwards, slowly pushed the head of his cock inside of her, and he was barely inside of her when she clenched around him, and he almost fell onto her as a shiver wracked through his spine. “Fuck-”

The sounds she were making were beautiful, the little gasps and whimpers that swirled his mind in a delicious arousal that threatened to swallow him whole.

Sam took his time to push all the way inside of her. Even though he’d taken his time working her open with his fingers, she was still tight, and Sam wasn’t exaggerating or bragging, but he knew that he was big. He could see just from the blissed out look on her face that he was filling her up completely, and the sight alone almost made him cum before he’d even completed his first thrust.

He bottomed out and groaned, dipped his head down to mouth kisses against her throat as he stilled himself, just to allow her to adjust to the stretch. His words were a little strained as he breathed out, “Need a moment?”

He felt her nod, and from where he was mouthing his way up her neck, he felt the almost ragged rise and fall of her chest beneath him, her bare skin brushing against his own, and he could feel the warmth almost damp-with-sweat skin, her hardened nipples brushed against his chest with each inhale. She was perfect. Completely and utterly. He loved that he could get her like that — that she trusted him enough to get her like that.

After her neck had been littered with kisses once more and she’d had the time to breathe through the stretch of him sunken in her pussy, Sam felt her shifting beneath him slightly, her hips tilted as if she was trying to get him to move, and Sam couldn’t help the soft groan that built in the back of his throat. Y/N still wasn’t so good with words yet, asking for what she wanted or expressing her opinion unless he coaxed her into it, but God he loved it when she did that, coaxed him with her body, with a sinful shift of her hips.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Sam shifted his hips, pulling out slightly to slowly thrust back in, and his gut clenched at the noise she let out. “You’re so tight-” he clenched his teeth as he thrusted again, felt the way her warmth clenched around him like a fucking vice. “Feels so good for me.”

Sam kept with the slow deep thrusts, revealed in the drag of his cock against her walls, the way she keened and gasped beneath him whenever his head nudged against the spongy spot inside of her that he knew made her head spin. He took his time unraveling her beneath him, watched as her eyes rolled back and her lips parted with soft little breathy gasps each time his cock nudged deeper inside of her, sinful wet noises accompanied with each thrust.

“Sammy-” her voice was so whiny when she tangled her fingers in his hair again, and the slight tug on the roots made him groan, his own breathing ragged with each thrust.

Though when she took his reaction the wrong way, Sam felt her fingers retract from his hair, and he paused his movements to reach up and grasp her forearm lightly like he had done before, and kept her hand there. “Don’t do that.”

She blinked up at him, eyes fucking blown out with lust as she panted slightly. “But-”

Sam almost huffed a laugh as he realised that he had to spell it out for her. “I like it,” he mouthed a kiss at her jaw, wet and lazy. “Pull as hard as you want. Don’t be so shy, baby.”

When he started thrusting again she whined and gripped onto his hair tighter, in such a way that made his cock throb inside of her and his breathing stutter, and a strangled groan escaped him as he kissed her throat again.

“That’s it,” he panted, and sped up just slightly as she clenched around him a bit more frequently, she was close. “That’s it, there we go, good girl-” Sam grunted, exhaled hard against her throat as his forehead tucked against her neck. “Taking me so well-”

On a particular deep thrust of his hips she whimpered, tugged on his hair just a little harder, and Sam knew her well enough by that point to know what it meant.

“You feel close, baby?”

“Uh-huh-” she sounded pretty wrecked, all breathy as she panted and whimpered beneath him. “I’m-” Y/N sucked in a sharper breath through her teeth. “I’m gonna- oh, I can’t-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam leaned back slightly to look down at her face when he heard as she got a little worked up again, and his hand reached up to cup her jaw, her cheek flushed and warm beneath his palm. “Easy, sweetheart. What do you need?”

She was blinking through the hazy bliss he knew was swimming through her entire body. “Can-” she breathed in again, and tilted her head to kiss his wrist softly, and if he hadn’t been fucking into her in that exact moment his heart would’ve burst with softness. “Can you do what you did last time? Please?”

Sam almost fucking came at the memory right then. A few times now she’d gotten a bit worked up when she came close to cumming and hadn’t been able to get there so easily, so the last time it had happened he’d helped he’d through it by rubbing her clit as he fucked her into her orgasm. And Sam still thought about the reaction he’d gotten, the face she’d made as she shuddered through her orgasm. He’d been dying to pull that reaction out of her again.

“‘Course, sweetheart,” his voice was hoarse and his breathing was ragged, and he mouthed more kisses against her throat. “Just breathe for me, okay? Let it happen.”

Sam kept one hand braced beside her head to keep himself held up above her, whilst his other moved between them until his fingers found her clit, slickened with her arousal that was soaking the both of them. The angle of his arm was a bit weird, but if it meant getting her there, it was perfect for him.

Y/N moaned, her back arched off of the mattress, and her grip on him was so tight it took all he had to hold himself off.

“There we go, that’s it,” Sam grunted into her neck, fingering tight little circles onto her clit as he continued to thrust into her, dragging the length of his cock at an angle that he knew left her shaking. “Such a good girl, fuck-” he inhaled through his teeth and groaned. “Want you to cum for me, baby, wanna hear those pretty noises.”

It didn’t take much. After a few more thrusts and undivided attention on her clit she came, hard, a breathless moan left her lips as she shuddered and clenched around him, her pussy pulsed in such a blissful way that Sam couldn’t even fucking help himself and he came with her. He moaned into her throat as he worked them both through their respective climaxes, and rutted against her a few more times before he groaned softly and rested his weight on top of her, his cock still inside of her as they both fought to catch their breath.

“Oh god baby,” Sam mouthed lazy wet kisses against her throat again, and his hand moved from her clit, flattening against the soft skin of her stomach and smoothing upwards until he could cradle her jaw in his hand. “You were so good for me,” he dropped another kiss. “So sweet,” another kiss. “So perfect.”

Her fingers had loosened in his hair, and instead she had just hooked her arm around his neck, kept him close to herself. She still breathed deeply, her skin was flushed and damp with sweat, her legs trembled slightly either side of his hips — she was so fucking pretty.

“You feel okay, sweetheart?” Sam tipped his head back enough to look down at her face, flushed pink, baby hairs stuck to her forehead with sweat. He lifted up his hand to brush them out of her face, before he smoothed the pad of his thumb over the hot skin of her cheek.

She nodded, and when her eyes met his, he saw the tiredness that had crept into her expression, the way her eyelids fluttered and she laid lax and practically boneless atop the mattress.

“Yeah?” He cupped her jaw again and tipped her chin up a little with his thumb. “Wanna talk to me?”

“I’m good, felt really good,” she mumbled, and one of her hands lifted to lightly wrap her fingers around the wrist of the hand he cupped her jaw with. “You’re… you make it really nice. Thank you.”

Sam chuckled softly, and dipped his head down to kiss her forehead. “Don’t need to thank me, sweetheart,” he kissed her again, before he murmured softly, “I’m gonna pull out, okay?”

Only after she’d nodded did he shift his hips again and pulled out slowly, and when he heard the way her breathing hitched, felt her little shudder, he lightly smoothed his hand over her stomach again. “Easy,” he murmured, voice soothing as he rubbed circles into her soft skin. “You okay?”

She hummed a little, blushing. “Just sensitive.”

“That’s okay, baby,” Sam tipped his head down again and captured her lips in a soft loving kiss, and took his time with it, rubbed calming circles into her skin for the duration of the kiss before he slowly pulled away and looked down at her pretty face. “I’m gonna go get a towel to clean you up, okay?”

Y/N smiled a little fondly as she nodded. “Okay.”

Sam kissed her once more before he finally pushed himself up and off of her, off of the bed entirely. But partway to the bathroom he paused and turned to face her, “Hey?”

She looked up, humming.

“I love you.”

Sam watched as she completely softened, watched as the soft little smile reserved for him crept onto her face, curling the corners of her mouth upwards. “Love you too.”

[ayrtonswnna]

ʚɞ "can you bring my girlfriend?" OP81

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⋮ angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. word count: 1,7k

✧₊⁺ oscar piastri x carina duquez (female!oc)

summary: when oscar feels too much, but he'll always have his girlfriend to share life.

warnings: autor with an addiction to angst writing, mentions of a panic/anxiety attack, soft!oscar for the win, lando norris as a special guest.

Oscar feels overwhelmed.

Bahrain gets the hottest track of the year, a hard race to say the least. It feels like there's too much going on, almost like the McLaren driver could sense his skin burning even out of the car.

He usually holds good control over himself; a very disciplined athlete, he heard every call on the radio and hydrated just as much as he could, but the fuzzy feeling won't leave him.

Seeing bright and blind sparks where his vision should be, an anxiety wave crashing in his chest as he stumbles inside the papaya box.

It's not just the heat, being so self-aware makes him sure of that. The medical team follows him inside, just a plain sight, there are people around, but everything seems just too far away. Soaked in sweat and cold water, his heart is beating too fast for him to think clearly.

He needs to get Carina.

Also known as his girlfriend, his baby, his physiologist. Like, legally. Like what she does for a living. Oscar can't be her patient as part of the conduct, but she often helps him out with that kind of stuff, like identifying whether it's physical pain or just anxiety.

"No, I'm okay. I'm okay," the pilot waves his hands as the doctors approach, really focused on keeping his breath regular. "Can you just get my girlfriend? She's somewhere in the VIP. I really need her right now."

"I know you might want some comfort right now, but I need to check you right away."

"You can! Just bring my girlfriend. Can you bring my girlfriend?" As soon as he understood that the man in front of him wasn't going to move, he asked someone in the back. "She'll be here in seconds. I'll let you touch me as soon as she says I'm okay."

Yeah, the doctor is right. Oscar just wants some comfort right now. Carina, besides being very good at what she does for a living, is also an incredibly amazing girlfriend. Her powers go beyond what she studied for.

And heaven seems to be on their side today. One of the guys on the medical team heads out of the room, and Oscar just tries to breathe slowly and deeply.

Carina is there, body almost hanging on the half-wall of the accommodation, trying to get any sign of what's going on inside the papaya garage. Usually, he would wave to her every time he left the car, and that didn't happen today. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, worrying if something had happened.

She's right, somehow. Somebody dressed in McLaren's staff uniform came for her with a pass for the boxes zone and a calming voice, telling her not to worry, that Oscar is okay and just requested her presence.

But, well... Carina knows the boyfriend she got herself. There are not many people who can get into his sensitive space, and if she's being called, there is something sensitive happening. The Aussie girl flew down the access stairs and followed the woman into the light-weighted door, a few seconds until she could see Oscar's red face resting up, the back of his head against the wall, and his body curled up together.

"Hey, Osc." She uses her softest tone, leaving her purse and phone on the closest surface as she approaches. "Pretty hot track, huh?"

Easy to guess. In the past few months, all this F1 pressure started kicking in, the perks of driving a rocketship with such ability, being this much of a promise brought some other stuff to the table.

"Yeah." He muttered, eyes closed, face red. "Am I fine? I can't really feel my face or my hands... Whatever. I can't feel much. Am I okay?"

It'd be funny in some other situation. Oscar does look like a serious guy, like someone too calm and put-together. He tries very hard to be. But sometimes, just like everyone else, he wants someone with answers.

Someone else to think for him, to figure out why everything feels so tangled up.

"Fine as always." Carina keeps her voice low, the good kind of lie. He just needed to feel like he's in control. "Your face is just bloody red, but you know I really find you the cutest when you're like this."

"Stop it." A shy little laugh leaves the Aussie's lips, really less worried as she zips his fireproof down and reaches the sides of his neck, rubbing her cold hands. "Hmm... That feels good."

"Yeah? You're just overheated, okay? Can the doctors check you out? We just need to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah- Yeah, of course. You'll stay here, right? Don't leave, please."

"I'll never leave you. Let's just get checked, and then you'll head home."

So Oscar finally feels comfortable enough to let the other people in the room touch him. Carina stays by his side, even talks to the doctors, and fixes his hair sometimes.

"Ice tub, shower, and then you can head home, Oscar. You were great today." The last person on the medical team finishes cleaning up, standing up before waving a last goodbye and leaving the room.

"Do you still need me here? I can wait for you outside." Carina says softly, tucking his overgrown hair behind his ears. "Take your shower, and I'll get the car, okay?"

"Of course not," he whispers. "can't you stay?"

That's what she does. They follow each other down the corridors in the McLaren facility to where the drivers actually go post-race. A tub of cold water awaits, and Oscar takes seconds before diving in, their last moments by themselves.

"C'mon, Osc! Can't believe the heat got the best of you!" Lando shows up from the front of the garage, towel around his neck as he tries to keep the humor up. "You're okay? Did you get checked?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got checked." He's still with his eyes closed, someone from the staff pouring one more ice bag into his tub. "It was a whole lot."

"It was, man. It is too hot around here, and the track is even worse. I thought the car was overheating!" Lando agrees. "And hey, Carina! The best medicine is love, huh? That's what they always say."

Oscar can't understand what is happening to him. He's a chill guy, always so calm and down to earth. How come the tug in his chest hits like a hammer sometimes?

It's hard to breathe, to think, and for the first time in forever... To be quiet. He tried hiding in the bathroom, tried showering. Nothing could put the feeling away, and he already felt like a burden. Carina shouldn't be fixing his mind every time something happens. His mind keeps telling him he's supposed to hold himself together.

But it's still too hard, too much.

She's sleeping. After they went back home and after everything cooled down, literally, she was still the one to order their dinner, set the bedroom, and check on him until he fell asleep on her chest. Now he is hiding in the bathroom, making sure she has time to rest.

"Baby? Are you alright? I miss you in bed; you left a while ago."

Damn, he could swear he was slick enough for her not to notice he left.

But she does, she always does. The details are some of her best qualities.

"Uh-hum. I'll be back." His hands shake, touching his own face and trying to dry the tears.

"It's cool, don't worry. Would you mind... opening the door for me? You're locked in."

Carina is good at this, she's a pro. Oscar knows she'll be the best psychologist once she finishes college just by the way she treats people around her, but mostly him.

She makes him feel comfortable before ever going to the point. He doesn't even notice she's doing it.

Still, he doesn't want to cry in front of her anymore, at least not today.

"Osc? Look, you don't need to talk or anything, I just don't want you to be alone. Because you're not."

He could swear that's procedure, although it isn't. She's just being his caring girlfriend, the one he's had ever since middle school.

"I know." The only two words he manages to say. "I'll be back, promise."

"Would you like... would you like me to be inside with you? Or would you rather spend a few more minutes alone? I can come back and check on you in ten minutes."

That could be funny. Carina sometimes uses this positive discipline thing to get in control, and being conditioned really puts Oscar's mind in place.

Her company could be good. He doesn't overthink when he's around her.

And ten minutes can feel like an eternity. So the door gets unlocked, and he steps back.

"Hey, baby..." That's when he melts completely, face hiding in the crook of Carina's neck, arms around her, and sobs a bit too loud.

She just wishes he was smaller so she could hold him fully.

"What the fuck is going on, Rina? I don't understand! Why am I like this? That's not me!" he cries. "Everything feels so different, and I just want this feeling to go away!"

"I know, baby. I know. Things are changing. You're onto big things, big results, consistency... And you're also a public figure. You're facing new things."

"And why can't I just be like Lando? Or Lewis? Or Charles? They make it all look so easy! I just... I just want to be like everyone else!"

"Oh, so you think your friends haven't felt that way? When they went through the same? I mean... Lewis is old enough to be your father so... It's been a long time." Yeah, the humor and the way she runs her fingers through his spine. It all makes the feeling sink down. "Ask Lando, or whoever. I'm sure they faced what you're facing right now. Last year you were a rookie and now you're winning races!"

Not another word in the conversation; only Oscar's body getting heavy and the sobs becoming softer and softer. Carina has no idea how much he has slept.

"You're amazing, Osc. We will get through this, okay?"

"I love you," he whispers. "So, so much... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would surely get no sleep. Let's go to bed, wash your face, and go to bed." Her hands travel his back a little more. "I love you too, baby. So, so much."

[outsideratheart]

By Your Side, Always (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: We’re supercampeones!!! I’m not sure what this is but I hope you like it.

The first 45 minutes of the game you were having fun, the whole team was. Levante knew that Barcelona would make them work but tonight you and the team were putting on a world class performance. They were never a team to give up but with 7 goals scored and them not being able to find the net, they struggled to find hope and accepted their defeat. They were now fighting to keep the score at 7 and it started to get messy. 

It was clear that you had been made a target by Levante’s entire back line. You didn’t care though, you could take it. If anything you welcomed the physically because it meant you were allowed to give them a taste of their own medicine every so often. 

Alexia wished she could be on the pitch with you but she must admit it was fun being in the stand watching you play the way you were. 

“She’s showing off” Mapi said to no one in particular as she watched you dance around their left back even looking back and smirking to her once you sent the ball into the box. 

“She’s unstoppable when she’s like this” your girlfriend says. 

She regretted her choice of words not even a minute later. There were two defenders between you and the goal. You were determined to make it 8. That is until you get taken out by not one but two players. You felt one set of studs go into the outside of the ankle and another set on the inside. You truly had never felt pain like it. 

Alexia heard your outcry of pain and could do nothing but watch as you laid on the floor clutching your ankle. 

“I need you to get up. I need to go to her” Alexia stood to her feet, desperate to be by your side. 

“You can’t go onto the pitch” Mapi slowly got up, careful not to knock her knee. 

Her warning fell on deaf ears and Alexia was already rushing towards the pitch. As expected she was stopped by Jona but she stayed near the sidelines waiting for you. 

“Please get up” Alexia whispers to herself. She began to fear the worst when she sees the physio signal for a stretcher. 

“We both know she’s too stubborn to use it Alexia. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be up” Jona pats his captain’s shoulder in support. 

The coach was right. It took a little longer than Alexia would have like but you are up on your feet. It’s obvious that the injury is bad because you are using the teams physios as crutches so you don’t put any weight on your ankle. 

What is the ultimate telling sign is the way you refuse to meet Alexia’s gaze when you get to the sidelines. Nevertheless she follows you into the tunnel and waits by the door of the medical room. 

“Come with me, please” you have your back towards Alexia but she can hear the pain in your tone. 

“I’m here” 

Alexia sits on a chair beside you as the physio begins examining your ankle. At the first touch you wince and move your foot away which only makes it hurt more. He gives you a couple of minutes to compose yourself but asks to try again. Your arms hide your face as the pain becomes excruciating. The only thing stopping you from breaking completely is the soothing way Alexia is stroking her hand over your thigh. 

“They’re almost done. Try and breathe for me ok?” 

And try you did but you also failed. It was a form of panic and you knew it. 

The physios explain that they think it’s major ligament damage and that they will take you for scans once you’re back in Barcelona.  

“I’m going to give you some space. Alexia, make sure she ices it and try to get her to stay still. Give it ten minutes then she can put the boot on and use the crutches. No weight on it, understand?” 

“They studded my ankle, not my ears. Don’t speak about me as if I’m not here” you sit up quickly. At least now you understood why you needed to keep still. 

Alexia got up as the physio left. She places ice on your ankle as gently as she could before she turned out the lights. She knew that when you were overwhelmed the darkness help calm whatever you were feeling inside. 

“Whatever it is, i’ve got you. I know how you think and how you’re going to want to do this alone but that won’t happen. I won’t let it”

Alexia moves the chair so that it was closer to your head. She places a gentle kiss on the crown on your head. 

“I don’t want to talk about it” 

You turn your head away from her. That hurt Alexia but she knew it was your coping mechanism and once you’ve processed what’s happened you will be more open to talk.

Alexia had just opened her mouth when she heard a door slam and a lot of foul language. 

“That’s Lucy and if she’s in here for the reason I think then I’m going to kill her” 

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes. You weren’t in the mood for this and deep down she knew the reason why the English defender was now in lockeroom even though there is 10 minutes left, maybe less. 

“Y/N I’m coming in” technically it wasn’t a question but still she could have waited for a response. 

“Get out” you growl. 

“Oh did I interrupt something” Lucy gives you both a playful look. 

“You’re a fucking idiot Luce. I know for a fact you didn’t get subbed off because that wasn’t part of the plan so that only leaves one reason” 

“Y/N calm down” alexia begs.  

“I was defending you. They took you out. I wasn’t going to let them get away with it” Lucy met your anger and walked towards you. That was a mistake. 

“Get out!” You stand up and your own weight collapses underneath you. 

“Lucy, please” Alexia begs your England team mate who raises her hands in defeat and leaves you be. 

She then helps you back on the bed. A couple of minutes pass and you hear the final whistle following by the cheers of your team. 

“I’m not going back out. Torre can lift the trophy” 

“Y/N. You’re their captain and you scored a hattrick. It should be you up there” 

“Well I’m not going to be and you can go tell them. Go Alexia” 

She saw the look in your eyes. The look, which in the past, told her that your mind was made up and there was nothing she could do to change it. 

“Just come out when you’re ready. We don’t let moments pass by without celebrating them. You told me that” before leaving Alexia made sure she turned on the TV so that you could at least watch the trophy ceremony. 

You didn’t like what you just did but you did it anyway. Alexia has had a tough few weeks and she need this, she needed it more than you needed her. 

As instructed Marta lifts the trophy and you feel fine about it. Barcelona has a group of leaders but it just so happens that only one can wear the armband. 

The silence wasn’t comfortable and it started to put you on edge. You saw the boots and crutches by the examination table taunting you.  

Don’t let the moment pass by. 

Alexia watches Marta lift the trophy and then celebrated with the team like they do after every trophy win. She hoped you might have come out by now. 

She is near the centre circle when she hears the crowd errupt. She may have her back to the tunnel but she knows it’s you. 

“I thought you said she wasn’t coming out” Jana asks. 

“No. I said she wasn’t lifting the trophy” Alexia knew you would come out. Due to your slow pace, no thanks to the crutches, Alexia met you half way. 

You let the crutches drop to the floor as you wrap your arms around her neck. 

“I’m sorry for pushing you away. I just —“

“Needed a minute. I know. You’re here now and that’s all that matters” she lets you rest against her as your hands you the crutches. 

“Have you been crying mi amor?” She noticed the tear staines on your cheeks. 

You nod slightly and she can see that something is going on in your head because your eyes begin to well up. Alexia cups your cheek and gently wipes away the stray tear that has fallen. 

“You don’t have to wait until I’m not there to cry Y/N”

“I know” 

Side by side you walk towards your team mates who are all ready to greet you. Bruna is the first one too you, of course she is. 

“Here” she hands you the game ball “I got everyone to sign it for you” 

“Thanks B. You know I’ve got so many of these I’ve lost count. Why don’t you go give it to a fan?” The young forward takes the ball back happily and runs towards a little girl. She makes her turn around so that you can see the fan is wearing you shirt. You send her a little wave and it makes her day. 

“I don’t want to be injured” you stick your bottom lip out causing you girlfriend to chuckle slightly. 

“We’re professional football players, we never want to be injured but sometimes it happens. There’s nothing we can do about it” Alexia was full of wisdom. 

She definetly didn’t feel this way when she got hurt but you decide not reopen old wounds. 

“And these things are stupid” you wave one of your crutches around. 

“Are you going to be complaining everyday until you’re back on the pitch?” 

“Yes Alexia, I am. If you don’t like it then tough because you’re stuck with me” 

“I’m ok with that and I’m ready to return the favour because we both know I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine when I got injured” 

“You can say that again. I almost sent you back home to your mothers” you were teasing her and she knew it. You didn’t like being more that 5 feet away from Alexia when she was hurt. 

“We both know if I went back to my mama’s that you would be right behind me” 

You could only nod in agreement. Alexia suggests you do what will be half a lap of the pitch so you can thank you fans. It’s a slow amble but she doesn’t seem to mind. The rest of the team had walked ahead so now it was just you, Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid. 

“Does this mean we can do our physio together?” Mapi asks you. 

“No” Alexia and Ingrid say in unison. 

“Why not? We will push each other to get better” 

“And that’s the reason why. You’re too competive, you will make it into a game and we” she points to herself and Alexia “know that it’ll end badly”. 

When you are back at the hotel you are dragged into the celebrations and for the most part you don’t mind it. After a little while you realise that Alexia isn’t around and that is something you do mind. You feel yourself getting more anxious without having her calming presence beside you. 

Then you hear your phone go off. 

Come to you room. Your rehab starts now. 

When you enter your room, Alexia is standing outside the bathroom. 

“I’m going to need you to remove your clothes” Alexia says and your eyes widen. 

“Ok” you pull your shirt off in record time, the shorts however were more of a task. 

“Let me” once the injured leg was free alexia places your crutches aside “rest on me” she tells you. 

She looks up grinning like a devil which makes you shake your head. She always did have half a mind in the gutter when it came to you. 

“Maybe later” she pecks your lips and doesn’t expect for you to pull her back in for something more passionate. 

“Sure, Putellas”

She pretends to act offended at the use of her surname. Alexia then uses her strength to lift you backwards and onto the bed, something she could have done earlier. 

“I’m going to take your boot off. It might hurt” she was so gentle in the way you undid the Velcro straps. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry” she says when she hears you wince. 

“I’m ok” you reassure her even though you were far from it. 

What happens next came as a shock but a good one. Alexia lifts you up and carries you bridal style towards the bathroom where you are met with a bubble filled bath. 

“You did this for me?” 

“Yes. Although I’m going to be joining you so I guess it’s also for me” 

“Are you now?” You tease. 

Alexia nods her head in excitement with a huge smile plastered on her face. 

Your girlfriend helps you in and then lowers herself behind you. With one hand on your thigh and the other one on your abdomen, you allow yourself to relax. As you tilt your head back to rest against Alexia it gives her full access to your exposed neck and she takes advantage of the opportunity. She knows things can’t get too heated so she settles with peppering kisses on your sensitive spots. 

The two of you stay in the bath until the water becomes cold and your hands like like prunes. 

“You’re strong Y/N, you’ll be ok” Alexia says as she lays in bed with you. You have a movie on and somehow Alexia has gotten some popcorn. 

“I’ll be alright” 

It wasn’t how you expected the night to end. You thought you would be celebrating with your team, jumping for joy and taking advantage of the free champagne. Instead you are in bed, with you leg elevated and ice compressing the injured area. The this one commonality in the current and what come have been; you have Alexia by your side. 

[kaiser1ns]

i told you, didn't i? time is nothing but a construct, an easy thing to manipulate but we'll start with the living dead or the walking dead, call it however you like, my little puppet! everything is more fun when its uʍop-ǝpısdn. hope you will enjoy being stuck between the physical and spiritual realm. remember, reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram. buy gold, bye!

𝗷𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗵𝗶!𝘀𝘂𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘆𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

THE CORPSE'S BRIDEㄑword count :: 6121 ▿ finding a red envelope with money often symbolizes marriage, but sometimes luck is just on your side as you pick it up in the city center. what you didn't know is that you accepted а marriage proposal. and this is how the suo family tricked you, a living woman into becoming the ghost bride of their deceased son.

CHOOSE ANOTHER DIMENSION IN WEIRDMAGEDDON

“You are a disgrace to our family.”

Every day it was the same old tune, like a broken bamboo flute that had worn out its melody. You’d hear it as soon as you stepped through the front door, sometimes even before. “How come the gods have cursed me with such a daughter?” your mother’s voice carried over the sounds of her stitching, accompanied by the echo of your father’s disapproving grunt. They acted like they were personally offended that you were still breathing.

Yes, yes … The unmarried daughter. You knew the script so well by now, you could predict every insult before it left their mouths. There was no getting out unless someone asked for your hand in marriage. It was already getting more than annoying, you wake up wondering when there will be a wedding and go to sleep thinking about how you want everything to end. If you had been born a boy, it would have been much easier for you, but apparently, the all-mighty gods want you to suffer.

“Are you in this house again?” Even though you were the one coming home from the market, laden with bags of food you’d bought with your own money. Not that they ever thanked you, for making dinner and serving delicious meals on their plates. The most gratitude you got was a side-eye from your mother as she sewed something, muttering to herself as she added the finishing touches to the red and gold dress.

You froze. Red and gold? No, no, no.

“What are you staring at?” She snapped, her needle pausing mid-stitch on a piece of crimson fabric that shined bright by the house lights. “This is your wedding dress if you ever manage to get a husband.” her tone was as sharp as the needle in her hand when she returned to her sewing, sighing at the fact that you were still here.

This wasn’t your first marriage guilt trip. Ever since your two older sisters had gotten married off, the pressure was on you. Sometimes you genuinely considered just disappearing poof and you are gone. Then you could haunt them forever, appearing in their dreams and turning them into nightmares.

“Mother, do you need me to do anything else?” you asked, hoping to escape even for a little while. Her eyes narrowed, the needle suddenly looking more like a weapon in her hand. “Go fetch some water from the well, and get something sweet for your father.”

You didn't need to be told twice. Grabbing the wooden bucket, you made your way to the center of the village. It was quiet for once, no bustling crowds or nosey elders asking why you weren't married yet. You mimicked your mother's nagging voice under your breath, lowering the bucket down into the well.

"Your sister is already expecting her first child, and you still don't even have a husband, blah blah blah..."

You rolled your eyes, adjusting your grip on the rope. The weight of it felt so familiar to your life, dragging downwards, just like your mother's hopes. And then, something bright caught your eye, a splash of crimson against the dull stone. You squinted. There, floating near the bucket, was a red envelope.

“Finally!" you muttered, quick to glance over your shoulder. It was an unspoken rule — finders, keepers. Maybe the universe had finally tossed you a bone. You bent down, fingers brushing the envelope's edge, and a chill ran through you, despite the sun hanging lazily overhead. Red envelopes were usually given for weddings. Could this be a sign? A stroke of luck for your otherwise underwhelming love life?

But the moment your fingers touched the envelope’s contents, the air shifted and the wind seemed to whisper your name—in a voice that wasn’t yours.

You looked around. No one was there. Strange.

Opening it like it was your last meal on this earth you couldn't believe your eyes. "Gold!" you whispered. The crisp smell of paper money filled the air, your fingers trembling slightly as you counted it. Your mind raced with possibilities—finally moving out, finally escaping the daily nagging, finally—wait.

Inside the envelope was a small, folded piece of parchment. It was old, the edges colored in yellow, and as you opened it, your heart sank. There was a lock of someone's hair, it was a slightly reddish brown with a small note tied to it. The words on the paper weren’t a blessing. They weren’t even good news. The name next to “groom” was unfamiliar: Suo Hayato.

Heart pounded fast as you pieced it together. You hadn’t just found some stray money. You’d accepted a proposal—a ghost marriage proposal. There are beliefs that if an unmarried boy is not married in the afterlife, his spirit could bring misfortune or illness to the living family members, pushing families to find a bride for him and one way to do that is to leave a red envelope, tricking the girl into thinking it has money. Because even in death, a person is not seen as complete without a partner. It also ties into beliefs about spirits and the afterlife, where the dead might reach out to the living to resolve unfinished matters.

Slowly your gaze slid back to the red envelope. An intricate pattern was etched into the surface, symbols you didn’t recognize. The kind of symbols your grandmother used to warn you about, eyes wide and voice hushed.

"Do not touch what belongs to the dead," she'd always said, but how exactly would you know that something belongs to someone who is not here anymore?

You cursed under your breath. Well, great. It was too late to back out. The Suo family had tricked you into becoming the ghost bride of their dead son. A gust of wind blew through the well, carrying with it a low, chilling hum. You swore you could hear that voice again, whispering softly in your ear, "Thank you for accepting me." 

That gentle voice, with that honeyed sound, made you shiver as your hands began to shake. That couldn't be true, it wasn't real. You just accepted an invitation to your own wedding and of course, no one alive would want you, of course, it would have to be someone dead. Quickly taking the overflowing water bucket you hid the letter in your clothes. You would think about it later, you were running late and would be scolded more than usual. The dead boy would wait a little longer, there was nowhere for him to run.

You go home as quickly as possible, the strange feeling of someone watching you still hasn’t left you. Your mother was done with sewing the dress, but she was nowhere to be found as you placed the bucket in the kitchen. Then you found her and your father in the garden talking, sitting between the statues of the ancient dragons that you and your father used to play among when you were little. When they loved their daughter and engagement did not destroy the relationship between a girl and her parents.

"I don't want our daughter to be treated like that. But this is what we should do." hiding behind the wall you were shocked by her words, eyes wide and tears started to form in your eyes. You never expected to hear such a thing from her as you wiped your tears and heard your father. "To keep this image of a perfect family. I hope someone asks for her hand soon because she won't live in this home any longer." Of course, traditionally, girls who did not marry were regarded as a threat to the entire family and were not allowed to continue living at home. Suddenly the letter fell out from inside your robe. You are practically married now and maybe tonight you will pay your husband a visit in the graveyards.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, was it? You hadn’t asked for this. But there it was—a contract, a promise, an unholy bond.

Fingers trembling, you snatched up the letter that had fallen and shoved it deeper into your robes, your heart pounding in your chest. Maybe this could be your way out. If the Suo family’s dead son had claimed you, then at least no living man could. You thought back to the voice, that soft murmur, almost too tender for something no longer living. But could you trust a voice that came from the dark?

Your parents' voices faded into the distance as you hurried to your room. The dress, a crimson red with delicate embroidery, hung neatly on the wooden frame, waiting for you. Its beauty felt like a mockery now, knowing your parents had likely sewn it for some stranger. You brushed your fingertips over the fabric, the reality of your situation sinking deeper. This dress would never be worn for a joyous occasion. Not for you.

As the evening sun began to set, you glanced out the window toward the distant graveyards. The lanterns lining the street flickered eerily against the walls. A strange pull began to take hold, like an invisible red string tugging you toward the resting place of the stranger you were about to marry.

But still, you were curious, who is this husband of yours? How old is he because that was important ... you didn't want to marry some 50-year-old grandpa. It wouldn't be your first time sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep because right now, the urge to go and find his grave surpassed even the heavenly world. It was time to meet him, the one who had called out to you, to see if this strange and unnatural union could be undone. Or maybe you were bound forever.

You could still feel his presence—the weight of it lingering in every step you took as you made your way through the empty streets. The moon hung low in the sky painting everything in its silver glow. The silence around you was oppressive, broken only by the sound of your sandals against the dirt path.

The closer you got to the graveyards, the colder it became. The wind picked up again, swirling around you, bringing the chills. You almost turned back to go home, but the thought of your parents, of being cast out from your home, pushed you forward.

Finally, you arrived at the gates of the cemetery. The iron bars stood tall and ominous before you, half-covered in creeping vines. Beyond them lay the rows of graves, their headstones arrayed like one great army. You swallowed hard, hesitating for just a moment, before pushing the gate open.

Your feet carried you towards the Suo family’s burial plot and the further you ventured in, the more you felt that presence intensify. It was suffocating, wrapping itself around you like a veil. And then, there it was—a single grave, marked with the name of your husband.

The earth before it looked freshly disturbed as if something—or someone—had been moving beneath the soil. You stopped, breath hitching, your body frozen in place. It had been dug up, there was dirt everywhere, and by the light of the lantern, you could see that the dug up was deep, to say the least. You put a hand over your mouth in complete shock. There was no one in the coffin. How come there was no one? Your breathing became heavier, the warm air coming out of your mouth suddenly turned cold, your eyes wide with complete fear when you heard noises near you. It could be someone passing by, a bird, or ... a rabbit.

A little white bunny, with a color just like the moon reflecting the yin energy. But will it bring you good fortune and peace in a place like this? Why did everything suddenly just turn into a scary fairy tale and why did you have to be the main character? You and the small animal looked at each other, its red eyes shining brighter than the lantern next to your face until suddenly it ran away when you tried to approach it.

And then, you heard it again—that voice. But this time, it wasn’t a whisper.

"Welcome, my bride."

The voice came behind you.

Swallowing hard your body shook, more than before as you couldn’t move. You stood in one pose, like a statue until you heard footsteps approaching. Spinning around, heart pounding in your chest, you screamed as loud as your lungs allowed. The sight before you was more horrifying than anything you could have imagined—a boy, or what had once been a boy, stood there, grinning at you. You instinctively threw your lamp in defense, the small flame flickering in the air and for a moment you thought the fire would pass through him like a ghost. But the impact was real. It struck his chest and clattered to the ground.

“W-what? Stay away from me or I will … I will–” You stammered, your mind racing. He wasn’t just a ghost, but a corpse. A jiangshi, a walking dead boy. Panicked, you glanced at the disturbed grave behind him, a confirmation that Suo Hayato had indeed risen from the dead.

But something was strange. His pale skin didn’t have any signs of decay, no silver hue like the stories warned, no moss clinging to his rotten flesh. He looked almost normal, almost alive. His brown hair hung loosely over his face, parted to one side and his singular eye or his living eye, watched you and made you feel the goosebumps. The other eye was covered by a leather eyepatch, which only gave you an unsettling feeling. A pair of yellow tassel earrings, with red gems like the rabbit’s eyes swung with his movements. And there was the black hat, a yellow talisman attached to it, though the paper was blank.

“Please, do not fear me,” he said, voice still sweet and calm despite the terror bubbling inside you. “You woke me up from my slumber for our wedding. My parents always wished for me to marry, but you see … “ His words trailed off as he lifted the talisman from his hat, his grin widening as if trying to comfort you. “I died before I could tell them who I truly wanted.”

You let out another scream, louder this time. The absurdity of his casual tone while he stood there, very much undead, with his smile flattering for a second and his single eye widening slightly because he had expected as much. You backed up until you were pressed against the cold stone of another gravestone. This couldn't be happening. He was dead, he should be dead, and yet here he was, speaking to you as this is just another day.

“I-I don’t want this! I don’t want to marry a dead man!” you shouted, your voice trembling as you struggled to keep your footing, knees weakening beneath you. All of a sudden, the weight of what was happening crushed you down. You didn’t want to die anymore. Not like this, not as some undead bride in a nightmare you hadn’t asked for.

The boy, Hayato, tilted his head, his smile now almost sorrowful. “I am not here to harm you. I was brought back for this, to fulfill my parents’ wishes.” you caught a glimpse of the boy he might have been before death took him. “I can’t bear to see you afraid of me. I never wanted this either, but you were the one who took the red envelope my mother left.”

You paused, trying to steady your breath, eyes darting between his face and the talisman he held. The numerous stories of jiangshi that your grandmother told you—these creatures were said to drain the life force from the living, feeding on their energy until nothing remained. Was that why he was here? To suck away what little life you had left? To take you down into the grave with him?

“I won’t let you drain me,” you blurted out, your voice shaking but your defense rising despite the fair. “I’m not ready to die yet!”

Hayato’s eye widened, and then a deep sigh escaped his lips. He stepped closer, too close for your liking as you flinched. But instead of attacking, he let the yellow paper fall over his face again. “I am not here to drain you. I was raised … incomplete. Not fully dead, not fully alive,” he explained, lowering his gaze to meet yours. “I simply wanted to meet you.”

“But you are a jiangshi,” you whispered, blinking as your eyes were fixed on him as if watching for any sudden movement. 

“Yes,” he admitted, his smile fading completely now, replaced with sadness. “But I did not ask for this fate any more than you happened to be my bride.”

His words sank in, making you rethink everything. He was just a strange boy who stood between life and death. His pale face, his empty eye socket beneath the patch, the talisman that should have controlled him but didn’t—he was terrifying, yes, but also…trapped.

“Then what do you want from me?” you asked, and as much you wanted to run, to escape something kept you rooted in place.

Hayato hesitated, then looked up, meeting your gaze with that single eye of his. "I want what I was denied in life. A chance to choose for myself. And maybe..." He paused, and the tiniest hint of hope flickered in his gaze. "Maybe to experience love."

Your heart was still racing, unsure of whether you should trust him—or if you even had a choice at all.

“Just accept him already, young lady! I want to sleep when it's dead silence.” someone's female voice called but there was absolutely no one near you and you started to look around. "I'm down here, but you have time until you join us."  The woman's voice came from leaning against her tombstone. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you, ma’am." Your breath hitched, and your gaze landed on a nearby tombstone. The name etched into the stone was worn, nearly faded, but still there. A woman’s ghostly form leaned casually against it, translucent and calm. You were talking to dead people now. Wonderful.

Just because you decided you'd be rich from a dumb envelope, and what did it turn out to be? You live between these two worlds as much as your husband. "Ah, the boy of the Suo family. They finally found you a bride."

This time it was a deep male voice as you both looked in that direction. It was coming from a tall, ghostly figure standing just behind another tombstone. "Good choice! I know the women in her family are unearthly beautiful!” You didn't know how to take that, a compliment you'd never received before. Hayato looked at you while you were still looking down at the ground, the moon illuminating everything above you.

His eye filled with something like... affection. He waited patiently for your response because it wasn’t easy to just accept a marriage proposal, a ghost one at that.

The dead were already speaking to you as if you were one of them, and perhaps you were—caught between their world and the one you had known your whole life. Maybe you didn’t want to die, but living in this strange in-between place was better than being cast aside by the living. You took a deep breath and slowly nodded.

"I... I accept," you whispered, almost to yourself, then met Hayato's gaze. "But I need to go home first." He smiled, the kind of soft smile that made you forget for a moment that he was no longer alive. "Of course. I will wait for you."

You turned, leaving the graveyard behind, though the voices of the dead still whispered in your ears, their conversations muffled by the distance. The walk home was quieter than before, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching from the shadows, but you knew that the light would appear again.

A week passed when you gathered courage and told your parents everything. You showed the envelope, explaining what had happened—how the Suo family had chosen you, how you had unknowingly accepted the fate of being a ghost bride, and how his spirit had come back to claim you. By not telling them, however, that your husband is somehow alive. You expected anger, disbelief, or perhaps even outrage. But instead, your parents stood in silence.

Your mother was the first to break the stillness. She took your hands in hers, her grip trembling slightly, but a small smile appeared on her face. "You... you will be married?" she whispered as if daring to hope this strange, supernatural fate might finally be your salvation.

Your father, though pale with shock, slowly nodded. "This is... unexpected," he muttered. "But if it means you will be safe, and the Suo family is satisfied, then this is for the best."

Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door. Your mother rushed to answer it, and there they were, the Suo family—Hayato’s parents. His mother, a graceful woman draped in mourning clothes, approached you with a smile that held both grief and relief.

"You have given my son peace," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "For so long, his spirit was restless. He didn’t even tell us who he wanted to marry. But now, he has found his bride, and he can be at peace. Our family is forever grateful."

Feeling as if you were floating between two realities—the living and the dead, bound by an agreement you hadn’t fully understood. But now, there was no turning back. This was your life now. This was real. It wasn’t some bad dream. You were truly a bride—if only to a ghost. Or rather, what remained of it.

The dress your mother finished sewing would be wrapped around your body soon. At least that's what you heard from the conversation of the adults in the great dining room. How did it all happen so fast? You could believe that Hayato told his mother in her dream. You could talk to the spirits of dead people after all.

You were walking in the big yard of your house when you heard a light tapping, small and gentle steps and in the middle of the garden was the white bunny from yesterday and immediately rushed towards the animal. It started running and you followed. Why does this rabbit appear out of nowhere? Are the gods giving you a sign to escape your fate as a normal human? Most probably, yes.

It stopped in front of the family temple where you honored your ancestors but for some reason, you hadn't been here in a few weeks because you were always doing work around and outside the house. You saw the rabbit jump up the steps and stand in the center of the temple, surrounded by tombstones but it hopped in front of your grandmother’s stone. Asking her for help won't hurt, you missed being here, finding peace in this beautiful place especially since your grandma never judged you.

Lighting the candles and incense, you kneel down, hoping for guidance from your ancestors. Please, if you can hear me. I need your help and advice. I need to know what's the best thing to do. You stood there holding your hands in an attempt to get an answer. You could see and talk to the dead, and that must include your family too. Suddenly the heat from the candle went out and you snapped your eyes open to see several of the stones with their names begin to glow and the rabbit was still sitting in front of your grandmother's table stone.

Images appeared from the blue glow, rather the spirits of your ancestors as they sat over their stones, and you looked to the one of your grandmother's, and as a finale, her spirit appeared last, and the white bunny jumped into your lap.

“So this is our ghost bride? She is too beautiful to be buried alive.” a woman called out, and you believe this is your grandmother who lived 120 years ago, as she waved a fan in front of her face. “A ghost bride? She took that from you.” Next to her was a man, dressed in warrior armor as his arms were crossed like he was judging you.

“Said the man who denied getting married because he was already married to the war.” waving her fan slowly but you could still catch her sly smile in a teasing tone before the warrior opened his mouth and someone cut him off.

“A wedding is a wedding. Don't fight over the happiness of someone so young, either.” you knew that voice as you looked at the spirit next to your grandmother it was your grandfather. Your eyes watered when you saw them again. Hugging the bunny with one hand, you got up, and with the other, you tried to touch them, but failed. They were just ghosts, they weren't like Hayato because their debts and wishes had been fulfilled. “My sweet child, I wish I could hug you as well.” 

You wanted to ask how you could even see them, but that was a stupid question from the person who was about to marry a dead man. Of course, you could see them because the moment you touched the envelope the physical and spiritual realm merged into one. 

“Grandma, why does this have to happen to me?” your voice trembled as the words spilled out, heavy with the confusion and heartache that had been building for days. Becoming a ghost bride... it wasn't something you could ever have imagined for yourself.

Your grandmother looked at you with that soft and reassuring smile. "Everything happens for a reason, my dear," she said, but did everything have to have a reason or was it another joke of fate? "The gods have chosen you, and so has the Moon goddess. You have everyone's blessing, even though you may not experience love the way you dreamed... I know, without a doubt, that the boy loves you deeply."

You stared at her, disbelief washing over you. "How do you even know if a dead boy can feel anything? His heart stopped... How could he possibly love?"

Your grandmother laughed at your innocence, the sound warm and comforting, like a lullaby from long ago. "You don't have to be alive to love. Love isn't confined by life or death. It’s a bond that exists between souls. The red thread that connects you two may be invisible, sometimes tangled, but it will always lead you to the right person, living or dead."

Her words settled into your heart, but still, a tear slipped down your cheek as you struggled with the weight of it all. As you wiped your eyes, you heard the soft crunch of footsteps behind you. The spirits of your family turned, their eyes full of knowing as they gazed toward the garden.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, your dead husband-to-be, wandering quietly through the garden, stepping into the light from the backyard’s small door.

"See now, my dear," your grandmother whispered, her voice lingering like an echo. "Love always finds a way."

You turned to speak to her again, but they were gone—the spirits of your family had vanished, leaving you alone in the garden. Without hesitation, you rushed towards Suo as the bunny stayed at the temple, your heart drawn to him in a way that defied all reason. Everything is happening too fast to be true.

Anger. Confusion. Fear. His presence in the garden felt too sudden. And yet, there he was, standing under the bright daylight with that same eye smile you remembered from the last time you saw him, but now you can see him more clearly.

"My beloved, I have wondered to whe—"

"Are you crazy?" you hissed, cutting him off with a whisper-yell as you looked around anxiously. "You can't just show up out of nowhere! What if my—no, your parents see you?"

Your heart was racing now, not just from the shock of his sudden appearance, but from the fear of what would happen if someone else saw him too. Suo’s presence, while comforting to you, was a ghostly impossibility to the living. People would panic, or worse, think you'd lost your mind.

He, however, seemed completely unfazed by your panic. His gaze was soft, patient even, as if he had expected this reaction. Slowly, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours with a strange warmth that startled you. The sudden contact made you tense up, your breath catching in your throat. 

"Only you can see me, my love," he said quietly, his voice gentle as you blinked, processing his words. Only you can see me. It made sense now, why the spirits of your ancestors had appeared without anyone else knowing, why Suo could walk into the garden without causing a stir. But still, the way the words "my love" slipped from his mouth—it felt both sweet and unnerving.

You gulped, suddenly unsure of how to respond. "My love?" It was all you could manage to say, trying to reconcile the person before you with the man you were supposed to marry in death.

Suo’s smile didn’t waver. It softened, his gaze steady as if there was no question in his mind. "Yes," he said simply. "You are my love. You have always been."

The conviction in his voice made your chest tighten. You wanted to protest, to ask how he could say such a thing when your relationship had never truly begun, but the truth was undeniable—he had come back for you. Whether by fate or the pull of the spirit realm, you were bound to him, and he to you.

And for the first time since all of this began, you didn’t know whether to feel relieved or afraid.

Suo’s hands held yours gently, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles in a way that made your heart race. His touch was warm, so real, despite everything about this moment feeling so impossible. You searched his eyes for answers, trying to make sense of the emotions and memories, but nothing came.

He noticed your confusion, and his smile faltered slightly, but only for a moment. "I know you probably don't remember me," he began softly, his voice laced with a bittersweetness, "since you moved houses."

He paused, glancing down for a second as though gathering his courage before meeting your eyes again. "But we used to play together as kids. You were the wife, I was the husband... and my dog was our child." He chuckled softly at the memory, but you could hear the longing hidden by the humor.

Your breath hitched as scenes of long-forgotten memories began to appear. The boy... the boy you used to play with every day, laughing under the summer sun, pretending to be grown-ups before life pulled you apart. You had moved after a terrible storm destroyed your home, making you move out to your sister's home for a while and your own house had been renovated during that time. It was chaotic, and in the midst of it, the boy who once filled your days with laughter had simply faded into the background of your life.

"I..." You shook your head, confusion washing over you. "You were the one who gave me a lantern with a special message inside when we were kids?" 

Suo nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "After you moved out, I was desperate to find you. I did, but you never spared me a glance. You were always so busy with chores, with life... and I was just a boy standing on the sidelines, watching."

His hands tightened around yours as he gently pulled you closer. "But apparently, I couldn’t stop thinking about you... even in the afterlife."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his confession sinking in. All this time, he had been holding onto memories of you, even as death claimed him. His wish, left unfulfilled in life, had somehow bound you two together in the strangest, most unexpected way.

He glanced at your family temple, where the spirits of your loved ones seemed to smile warmly at him. Even the white bunny was jumping around as if in celebration, as though the universe itself had conspired to reunite you two.

“So please give me a chance. I promise you that in the next life, whichever one of our many to come…I will always find you and love you.” you could feel it, you could see it, that he is really into you. Despite his interest in you all this time, it was strange to you that someone liked you, he saw you as more than the girl who did the dirty work of her parents.

But was it as easy as it sounded? To love him the way he loves you. In a week you had already seen it all and knew that there is no way to escape fate no matter what you do, no matter what life you live because what is written for you will happen unless you want to write your own story.

The boy you had left behind when life pulled you away. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized that,  you had always been connected despite the years and the distance.

"I remember you now," you whispered, voice trembling with emotion. "You were always there... and I forgot." A pang of guilt struck you, but Suo’s gentle smile reassured you that you hadn't done anything wrong.

"You didn’t forget," he said softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. "Life just happened. But we were always meant to find each other again.”

The idea of destiny suddenly feels more real than ever before. It was as if fate had tied this entire journey tightly, leading you back to him—even in death. You couldn't deny it anymore. You were bound to him, not just by circumstance, but by something deeper that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to unfold like the lantern lights during a festival.

Suo leaned in slowly, his breath warm against your skin. “Can I?” He asked but your heart raced, your hands trembling as his lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative, as you couldn’t tell him yes. It was a kiss that felt like a promise, one that sealed the connection between your two worlds, between your souls. In that tender moment, everything seemed to make sense, and the talisman on Suo's hat glowed faintly, the word "爱" (love) appearing under the bright sun with that striking crimson color.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, your face was burning as you couldn’t see but were sure that you were redder than the color red. "I can’t believe my first kiss was with a zombie," you said, still holding onto his hands.

He chuckled, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. How that was even possible when his blood circulation should have been stopped, you didn’t know—after all, he wasn’t technically alive but you found yourself not caring anymore. Why should you care when the person in front of you really loves you and proves it? It was him. That was all that mattered.

"Well," he said, smiling down at you and squeezing your hands "here I am, having my first kiss with a living person." You both laughed, hands intertwined, surrounded by the quiet serenity of the garden. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to marry someone like him, it would be more interesting, especially since you have to balance two worlds now. You had nothing to lose, but you wanted to spend more time alone with him, to remember the boy who was once a part of your life and now will be with you forever.

Remember the dead even when they appear for you with a marriage proposal. Because there is something to see and hear, but mostly to feel. And he felt too alive when you started running towards the exit of the garden as he looked back to see the spirits of your family cheering and dancing with joy and your grandmother looked at him with that warm smile she only showed to you. Suo would be curious how his family would react if they too would hold a banquet in the world of the dead because…

“You are a blessing to my family.”

WEIRDMAGEDDON VICTIMS :: @maruflix @heartkaji @17020 @stunies @y2kuromi @seneon @littleplantfreak @meidiary and special thanks to @kiurona for suggesting the idea and working with me and @nyxypoo for doing a beat read

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[synthetickitsune]

Jeonghan (SVT) | Heat fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader A/N: straight up not having a good time wtf are these temperatures

Whoever said that it’s easier to bear hardships when you’re sharing them with someone is a liar. 

The unnatural heat is already torturous to handle. You’re melting, most likely dehydrated with how much you sweat, and sleeping is impossible when it feels like you’re boiling alive. You’re grumpy, tired, and probably hungry too. Not like you have any appetite in this weather.

Not a good time, made worse by none other than your boyfriend.

Jeonghan huffs and groans in a way that makes it sound more like a whine. He’s thrown the blankets off the bed, he’d remove the pillows too if you didn’t promptly pull them to your side of the bed. He keeps squirming, tossing and turning. Honestly if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s on his deathbed writhing in agony instead of trying to nap.

“Hannie, just settle down,” you sigh, then you do it again when your boyfriend turns into a starfish and shoos you to the very edge of the bed.

“I can’t sleep at all,” he complains, his bleary eyes looking at you like you have a solution, “I can’t keep my eyes closed, I just keep thinking.”

You run a hand through his sweaty hair. Sleep usually came easily to him. When it doesn’t, well, he can always cuddle up to you for distraction. Unfortunately, the conditions today do not allow for prolonged physical contact.

“I’m sorry, maybe some music would help? ASMR?” you suggest, although you’re not hopeful. He shakes his head with a resigned - and dramatic - huff.

“Maybe,” he licks his lips, trailing off for a second before looking at you again, “Maybe if I was alone?”

His eyes seem dull in the dim light of the room, pleading and so so tired. It’s not the first time and it’s not gonna be the last time he asked you to leave the bedroom without saying it outright. 

“Of course, honey,” you hum, quickly pecking his forehead, “I’ll be around if you need me.”

“I always need you,” he murmurs.

You give up on sleep entirely after fifteen minutes of the same, if not worse, disgusting sleepless uncomfortableness in the spare bedroom and accept that nothing will help you now. Maybe if you went out for a walk to get some ice cream the apartment would feel less like an oven in comparison.

So that’s what you do. You can’t say it really helped, though. 

The apartment is still too hot, and now too quiet as well, so you hope Jeonghan at least is getting the rest he deserves.

You walk into the kitchen and are just putting the ice cream into the freezer, hoping to enjoy it when he wakes up, when you get the scare of your life. You’re bent over, making space for the box when suddenly a weight drops down on your back and you scream.

You almost headbutt the culprit, backing yourself against the freezer and the fridge as Jeonghan looks at you just as caught off guard and with a pout on his face.

“What the fuck,” you breathe out, hand over your chest, “Do you want me to die?”

“Where did you go? You told me you’ll be here if I need you,” he grumbles right back at you.

“And did you need me?” you quirk a brow at him.

“Yes!” he insists, pursuing his lips more, “You weren’t there when I needed you to tell me you’re not mad that I kicked you out of the bedroom and aren’t leaving me.”

You roll your eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“What if I didn’t know today,” he closes the distance between you, only enough that he can rest his forehead on your shoulder without your bodies touching.

“Should I go get you some sleeping pills? You’re so out of it,” you tease, rubbing his back for a few seconds.

“No but you can tell me you got my favorite,” he motions towards the still open freezer and box of ice cream barely balanced on top of the open shelf.

“Of course I did,” you reassure him and he finally lets you finish the task, “Did you get any sleep?”

“No, I felt bad because the other bedroom gets the most sunlight,” he gives you a small smile, “And then you went out and I felt worse.”

You coo at your boyfriend. He pulls you close, hugging you just for a short few seconds in which you manage to kiss his cheek.

“You’re so silly, you know I don’t mind. And it’s not like any room is better or worse right now,” you shrug. He doesn’t seem too convinced but nods anyway.

The only thing you can do, as much as you both hate it, is wait. Wait for the ice cream to freeze again. Wait for the cooler temperatures of the night. Nothing is really entertaining when clothes stick to your body and you’re both tired. 

But at least you can brave this hand in hand. Maybe that’s what it means to handle misery better with company.

[pretzel-box]

God i need a part 3 to Sunkissed where we eventually get to meet him in his beautiful fishy glory

Bonus points if the reader says something along the lines of "You're as beautiful as the day i lost you" because that line goes so hard

SEQUEL TO SUNKISSED AND MOONBLINDED

Tags: Angst, gn!reader, mentions of attempted suicide

Words: 1k

Authors note: No >:) Maybe next part!

Sebastian had been hiding in the shadows, wedged into a tight crevice between rusted metal pipes, his fluorescent blue eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. He could see your form through a narrow gap, standing in the empty hallway, your back halfway to him and you still looked as beautiful as the day they took him from you. The faint light of the ceiling lamps casted a silver light down on you, making you look like bathed in glittering starlight. You stood still, almost frozen in place,like you were waiting for something or someone. Him, he realized with a pang of guilt.

“To be honest, I pretended it wasn’t a big thing that you died,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence with some words that must have been heavy on your tongue. Your voice echoed slightly in the empty space, soft yet clear, like you were confessing a secret you had kept for too long. Sebastian stiffened. You knew he was there, somewhere in the darkness, listening to every word you will say.

“I did it for your family's sake,” you continued, your voice steady but tinged with a sadness that was impossible to hide. “I couldn’t break down in front of them when they needed someone to keep them afloat.” Sebastian watched as your hands trembled, clenching and unclenching at your sides. The fingernails were digging uncomfortably into the flesh of your palms. You were trying so hard to stay strong, to keep up that cheerful front you always wore around him. It broke his heart.

He wanted to speak, to tell you he was here, but his voice was caught in his throat. How could he face you? After all that had happened, after what he had become. He was ashamed of how he looked now, the monstrous appearance he had taken on to survive in this godforsaken place. He couldn’t bear the thought of you seeing him like this. He would rather die than scar you with the memory of his newfound appearance.

“But it was anything but easy,” you said, your voice cracking slightly, still talking to the endless void. “It broke my heart.” You took a deep breath, your shoulders sagging under the weight of your own words. A small silence filled the space now before you continued with a pained hesitation. “I tried to… I stood in the waves, you know… And I tried to keep walking into them, but I got scared… I got so unbelievably scared of not being alive anymore.”

Sebastian’s chest tightened painfully at your words. The message hit him instantly as he realized what you meant. He could see the tears welling up in your eyes, could feel the tremor in your voice. You had always been so strong, so brave, and now here you were, breaking down in front of him, and he couldn’t do anything to help you. He felt like the coward he always feared he was.

“I was terrified, Sebastian,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. The words hit him like a physical blow, and he felt his own tears begin to form. “I was terrified of what you must have felt when they wanted to kill you.”

Sebastian’s hand twitched at his side as his eyes widened in another moment of realization. No matter what situation you were in, you still had the habit of putting him first. He wanted to reach out, to touch you, to pull you into his arms and tell you everything would be okay. But he couldn’t move. He was paralyzed by his own fear, his own shame. How could he comfort you when he couldn’t even face himself?

He watched as you stood there, alone in the dim lights, waiting for him. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, an endless chasm between the two of you. He wanted to close the distance, to take that first step, but his tail felt like lead.

He could hear your breathing, shaky and uneven, and it tore at him. He wanted to scream, to shout that he was here, that he had never truly left you. But his voice was gone, stolen by the fear that held him captive.

You finally turned, looking toward the shadows where you knew he was hiding. “Sebastian… please,” you whispered, your voice broken, pleading. “I need to see you. I need to know you’re real.”

And for a moment, just a moment, he almost did it. He almost stepped out of the darkness and into the light. But then the fear crashed over him again, a tidal wave of doubt and shame. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face you, not like this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, though he knew you couldn’t hear him. “I’m so sorry…”

He watched as your shoulders slumped, the last of your strength seeming to drain away. You took a shaky breath, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’ll come back,” you said quietly, more to yourself than to him. “I’ll come back tomorrow, and the day after that… until you’re ready. I promise.”

And with that, you turned and walked away, your footsteps echoing down the hallway until they faded into a painful silence. Sebastian watched you go, his heart aching with every step you took and he cursed himself in the comfort of his own mind. He wanted to call out to you, to beg you to come back, but the words wouldn’t come.

He was left alone in the darkness, the weight of his own fear pressing down on him like a heavy shroud. He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the spot where you had disappeared. All he knew was that he had to find the courage to face you, to make things right.

Because if he didn’t, he knew he would lose you forever.

Sebastian sank to the ground, tears streaming down his face as he finally let go of the emotions he had buried for so long. His chest heaved with sobs that echoed through the empty hallway, his body trembling with the force of his grief. The shame, the fear, the guilt—everything crashed over him in waves, drowning him in a sea of sorrow. He buried his face in his hands, his three blue eyes wet with tears. “I’m sorry,” he choked out between sobs, his voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry…” His heart ached, knowing he’d pushed away the one person he loved most.

“Please, come back…”