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areyouwell · 5 months ago

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Nyctophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness

Ch.1

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)

Word count: 9.2k

A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go

How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldn’t recall. It felt like it had been forever since ol’ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didn’t think he’d send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didn’t think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.

But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.

Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadn’t aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs you’d ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.

You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. “Hey Kitty,” you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.

“I’m so happy to see you it’s been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought you’d died and Charles wasn’t telling us, Logan didn’t think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought you’d just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!” She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.

“Well, I can tell you that I’m not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. And– wait who’s Logan?” Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?

“Oh, right yeah. A new teacher,” Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. “He uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor… sorry.” She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldn’t be more grateful. You always thought you weren’t ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt.

“I’m hurt, a girl’s gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?” you cracked a smile, Kitty’s face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought you’d be upset? You were touched. “Anyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped at–” You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.

“Welcome back!” you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically.

“Christ! You’ve all just knocked five years off my life!” you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.

“They’ve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, they’ve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,” You didn’t need to see Scott’s eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.

“Yeah well… they can be really persuasive.” She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly.

“It’s good to see you,” Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment you’d had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.

You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.

“Hey you,” you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile.

“Hey.”

“How long’ve you been here? I didn’t actually think you’d listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought you’d just shrug it off and continue your own path,” you were relieved to see she had listened to what you’d said two years ago. You’d urged her down this path, to find the school. You’d already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.

“Uh… about that…” you’d only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought.

But Storm wasn’t looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.

“Logan!”

Ah, you guess that made sense now.

Whoever you’d expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him.

Now you understood why he taught combat and PE… he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldn’t say it didn’t suit him. He was very… rugged lumberjack looking.

You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You don’t think you’d ever seen a grumpier-looking man.

“Logan, this is Phantom,” your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name.

“Ah, so you do exist,” his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.

“Heard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,” you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.

“Can ya blame me?” He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance.

“Guess not. You’re also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?” You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldn’t help grinning slightly.

“Language!” Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess you’d forgotten how to behave around the kids too.

Logan held his hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you existed,” though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldn’t keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.

“I’m kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m–”

“She’s being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!” Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didn’t know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless.

“So I’ve heard,” Logan’s eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.

“Though, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didn’t exist and all.” You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of.

You hadn’t realised how completely caught up in the introduction you’d been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Anyway,” you continued pointedly, “you were saying? So you didn’t come to find this place?” your head tilted again slightly in confusion. “How did you end up here?”

Rogue looked from you to Logan, who’s eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. “Nope, still confused. How did…?”

“Well, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,” she explained quietly.

“More you found me but sure.” He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. You’d heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charles’ telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if you’d returned.

“So, you brought her here?” You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how he’d succeeded where you’d failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level.

“Me? Nah, didn’t know this place existed at that point.”

“Seems to be a common theme with you,” you couldn’t help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.

“Never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Not whilst I’m still breathing,” you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. “So how’d you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didn’t know about this?”

“Tall, dark, and– what?” He asked, bewildered.

Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. “That would be us. We’d been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.”

You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.

“I see. Glad it wasn’t my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isn’t much better. How’s your mutation coming along?” you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.

“Still hard to control, but I’m getting better at it!” She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When you’d met her two years ago, you didn’t know if she even wanted help. She’d been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didn’t think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.

“I’m glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,” you gestured to the room around, to the friends she’d made, to the haven she’d found.

“Oh, my name’s Marie. Guess I didn’t tell you before.” She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying.

“Marie it is.” Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending… fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. “Oh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldn’t mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.” Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didn’t smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!

“Uh…” Storm started.

“About that…” Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.

“Your bed’s real comfy, bub” he smirked, and you gaped.

“You’re fucking kidding me?”

“Language!” both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.

“Fuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!” you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? That’s shocking behaviour from the both of you!” You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.

“Don’t blame those two” Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. “we didn’t have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, but–”

“The view was too nice to pass up on,” Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you weren’t so heartless that you’d take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.

“Yeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?” you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.

“You’re in the one above, still got the same view, don’t worry,” she elbowed you slightly. That wasn’t so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.

“Good enough, I’m still mad about it though.” Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.

Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. “What’s got you so giddy?” you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door.

“Oh nothing, just glad you're home. It’s been kinda boring without you.” You laughed at that. With everything that’s been going on, you didn’t think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless.

Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didn’t want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.

“I got it,” Logan’s voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadn’t realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.

For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless.

“Super strength?” Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly.

“Nah, not quite.”

“Then how the fu–” you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. “–uuun. How fun.” you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldn’t deny he was good-looking. You’d be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldn’t mind uncovering.

Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.

“Ah, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.”

You snorted a laugh. “No, you didn’t. You absolutely knew it was my return.” You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.

“As quick as ever. And I see you’ve met our Wolverine.” Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement.

“Wolverine? Seriously?” you asked, laughing at his shrug. “Can’t think why…” your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man.

“I thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.” You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.

“C’mon! You’re gonna love it!”You were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.

Logan had to admit, he didn’t mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasn’t the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasn’t the kind of guy to stare at a woman’s ass, he wasn’t mad that he was behind you.

Everything he’d been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything he’d seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour… it was all right there in front of him.

Literally.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? He’d only known you for half an hour and he’d displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here.

He was in huge trouble.

The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadn’t exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, he’d only known you for thirty minutes.

He had to remind himself of that.

“Here we are!” Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what you’d find behind the wood. He’d helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, that’s what he told himself.

You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about.

If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt he’d felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.

“You… Kitty, you didn’t need to do this,” You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant you’d nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling.

“It wasn’t just me! I employed help,” Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. “And others offered to help.”

Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder.

“You helped?” you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.

“Here an’ there…” he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room.

“Here and there? That’s such a lie! He’d heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!” Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didn’t even know you, and he did this for you.

“Kitty, that’s en–oof!” Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how he’d imagine it. Not that he had imagined it…

“Thank you,” you whispered earnestly, and any guard he’d put up previously melted away. He didn’t exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. “Maybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,” your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return.

“Anythin’ else?” He asked, mirroring your expression.

“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something,” was it Logan’s sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?

Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didn’t care, and somehow, you didn’t think he did either.

Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didn’t look like you regretted anything.

“I really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is… well it’s better than what I was imagining,” you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. They’d really outdone themselves. He’d really outdone himself. And you couldn’t help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. “What’s your mutation, by the way? You never said,” you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.

Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little.

You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. “I see…” was all you said, before it hit you. “Wolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!” You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion.

“Whaddya mean it made sense before?”

“Don’t think too much into it,” you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped.

“Yeah, alright Phantom.” He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. He’d been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone.

“Get it now?”

Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features.

You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck.

Logan’s lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. “Got it,” the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. “Kitty, we should– the fuck?”

You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. “Guess she left,” you shrugged. “Or she never existed.” That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since you’d felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man you’d just met.

He had to remember this was a woman he’d just met.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll uh, see you later?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk you’d seen countless times already.

“Sure.” He said, before closing the door.

You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. “What the fuck?”

Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What. The. Fuck?”

Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo you’d missed so dearly on your travels, you’d changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavier’s office where he’d just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t listened to half of it.

“So, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kitty’s, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.” He finished his explanation slowly, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had no idea what he’d just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didn’t have to.

Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. “You’ve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?” He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.

“Yeah, it’s like I’m holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,” you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. “So, I’m not like Kitty?” you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.” You’d almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail.

“I think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.” You nodded. You actually did understand, because that’s how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.

“My dear, that’s why we brought you back. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. It’s led us to believe that your abilities don’t stop at shadow walking.” He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. He’d mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more.

“Shadow manipulation, right?” You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew that’s where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation.

“Essentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heart’s content. In… theory.” She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.

“But in practice?”

“In practice… honestly we don’t know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.” You nodded a little numbly. You’d only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths.

Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. “Well, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. You’ve had a long day and perhaps right now isn’t the best time to be entertaining new ideas.” He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.

You couldn’t agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since you’d become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It… scared you. And you didn’t scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.

“Right. Thanks, Professor. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.” You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited.

Fuck’s sake.

Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You weren’t the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing.

You didn’t turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, she’d had custom-made for the print on the side to say ‘Phasers Forever!’. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug you’d gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. You’d made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits.

Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.

Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips.

“Phantom.” He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.

“Wolvie.” You smiled back, though you could feel it didn’t reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.

“You alright?” Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didn’t like seeing you despondent.

“Yeah, fine.” It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liar’s smile. That was something else he realised in that split second.

He really didn’t like you lying to him.

“Uh huh?” Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didn’t even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.

“I’m just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? I’m starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,” You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening.

Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didn’t have to see his suspicion. If you weren’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldn’t push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. “How was your meeting with Charles?”

Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.

“Yeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.” Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you weren’t always paying attention to what was going on around you.

For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising he’d given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.

“S’that why you look like your pet just died?” You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.

“Look, Logan. I appreciate it, and what you’re trying to do, but at the same time, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. I’m tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?”

Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasn’t expecting you to be so sharp. He didn’t know why he wasn’t expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. “That might’ve been the nicest fuck off I’ve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.” He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didn’t know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that.

“I didn’t mean–” You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this.

It had been roughly half an hour since he’d left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didn’t know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasn’t like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuck’s sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didn’t think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing he’d handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!

He’d just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasn’t any kind of fist knocking…

With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didn’t dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time.

“Before you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know it’s good.” You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?

Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. “Peace pesto pasta?”

You nodded. “Homemade, don’t forget.” Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. “And also beer so you physically can’t turn me down.” You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Homemade peace pesto, beer, and…?”

You stuck your tongue in your cheek. “An apology.” You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. “Can I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These aren’t the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress so…” you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.

“You were a waitress?”

“Yes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they won’t fall on your feet,” you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasn’t as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands.

With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.

“It wasn’t that bad, just uncomfortable,” you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what he’d just seen, giving you a look of ‘fair enough’ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though you’d done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine.

“I’m sorry…” you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. “The Professor told me something in the meeting and… rattled me, that’s all,” you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe.

“How did you not just break your jaw?” you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities.

“Not much can break it, considering my skeleton’s adamantium.” Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide.

“Wait, how don't you– ohhhhh…” It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. “Any other secrets you're hiding?” You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.

“You wanna talk about keeping secrets now?” He asked curtly.

“Walked into that one…”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself.

“You know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?” You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta you’d made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. “So, turns out, it’s nothing like Kitty’s. It’s not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.” You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. “Kitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, it’s not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,” you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. “It’s like, I’m holding water in my bare hands,” you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. “And this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,” your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. “How Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but it’s a constant strain… Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just… I don’t know. It scared me I guess.”

The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. “I uh, don’t really understand what’s scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?” he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.

You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. “Well apparently we’ve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but… I don’t know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk or–”

“Would you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,” Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence.

“Exactly.” You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who you’d only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. “Anyway, yeah, that’s why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,” You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.

Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.

You’d come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didn’t want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever ‘I’m so sorry this is happening speech’ he was clearly getting ready to spill.

But for the umpteenth time in the short while you’d known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. ‘To the inevitable’ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.

“It won’t come to that,” you’d forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Logan’s willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. “Look, I was pretty fuckin’ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savin’, but look at us now,” in complete honesty, Logan still didn’t think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. “He’ll help ya. You’ll get this under control. And it ain’t all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,” You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought.

Logan was right. That was a good thing.

“Well, we’ll see tomorrow. That’s when we really start everything. We have another meeting before we’re straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?” You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one.

Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time he’d felt like this toward anyone? He hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didn’t even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you.

“I uh… ya know I wanted to apologise too.”

Well, that caught you off guard. “Wh– wait what? Why? What for?” you couldn’t help firing off questions at speeds you didn’t know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features.

“You were right. I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.” Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance.

“Yeah…. I did say that didn’t I? I–”

“But,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. “That doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know ya…” Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you weren’t telling him to fuck off, that is.

“I– Uh, okay, sure… what d’ya wanna know?” you asked, hoping to fuck you didn’t sound ridiculous. If you didn’t, Logan didn’t seem to mind or care.

“You can start of by tellin’ me how or where you learned to cook so well,” you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. “Nah I’m serious kid, that was fuckin’ great,” Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.

“Kid? Do you know how old I am?” you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way you’d show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young?

“Do you know how old I am?” he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.

“I’d put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?” you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course… just for… science.

Yeah. For science.

Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. “Not quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.” Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. “Take a picture bubs, it’ll last longer.”

“B-but… how–? Y–? Hundred and– what the fuck?” You couldn’t get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. “Why you don’t look a day over ninety. You’re in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently… probably looking for their exhibit back,” you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down.

“Ya done?”

“I’ll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?” You asked, and Logan couldn’t detect anything other than genuine curiosity.

“Regenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but it’s around hundred and thirty,” he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. “So?” he prompted, and you looked up.

“So what?”

“How’dya make the pasta?”

You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a béchamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you weren’t so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didn’t have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day you’d had, or if that was just who you were, he didn’t know. But honestly? He didn’t really care.

As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you.

“Anyway, that’s how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.” You’d somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.

It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.

“I should probably–”

“Look, you should–”

You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldn’t find it in you to care.

You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldn’t blame the man. You’d been talking for hours.

Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.

“Thank you. For letting me talk for hours. You don’t need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.” You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?” He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasn’t about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasn’t about to admit he wasn’t pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way he’d stopped them from doing all evening. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, you’d noticed. That was almost exactly what you’d said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all.

“Sure.” Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, you’d run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.

But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after you’d disappeared.

Yeah… he was definitely in trouble.

#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #x men x reader #x men logan #logan howlett #james logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #the wolverine x reader #logan smut #logan x reader smut #x men wolverine #essa's works

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pinkdick79 · 11 months ago

Text

love; derek hale x reader

back to masterlist

pairing: derek hale x reader (she/her)

warnings: none

prompt: 5. “he loves you, you know? he’s just afraid of admitting it.”

summary: in which the reader and derek are oblivious to liking eachother and it’s painful for everyone to watch.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

derek hale is called many things - sour wolf, the mean alpha, power hungry, and selfish. but turns out, he’s not any of those things. well, maybe a bit power hungry but he got past that.

derek has always been nothing but nice to you. always been courteous and sweet whenever you’re around, never mean or selfish like stiles or scott says he is.

the first time you met derek was when peter resurrected himself by using lydia. you were out for a walk when came across the hale house. you’ve heard tales about it and decided to go inside, little did you know that would be the start of your friendship with the one and only, derek hale.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

right now, you’re sitting in derek’s loft waiting to have a mandatory pack meeting that scott called. you’re with lydia, peter, stiles, issac, allison, erica, and boyd.

“what do you think this is about?” lydia asks.

“no idea. but it’s probably pretty importing seeing as though it’s seven in the morning.” stiles says, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket that was previously sitting on the back of derek’s couch.

“it’s more than likely about the kanima issue we’re currently having.” issac matter-of-factly says. he’s always been a straight to the point type of guy, kind of like derek.

“where are derek and scott? they called this meeting and yet they aren’t even here.” you speak out to nobody in particular.

“they’re probably getting snacks or something. they know how the betas get in the morning and during meetings without some form of food consumption.” peter replies to you with a small smirk at your mention of derek.

everyone knows of your crush on derek. and of derek’s crush on you. yet, neither of you two act on it. the pack is getting tired of the small glances and touches you guys share and not putting a label on whatever you guys have going on.

it’s obvious to anyone looking at you both that there is something going on, except the two of you.

“well, well. would you look who decided to show up.” you break out of your thoughts and look up and see scott and derek. heart fastening a little at the sight of him.

“oh, would you be quiet? you know how everyone gets without food during these meetings. you should be thanking us.” scott says, setting the food down on the coffee table and taking a seat by allison.

derek sits down next to you on the couch, putting his arm around the back of you. admittedly, it makes you blush a little bit. but you can’t let him know that so you try to avoid eye contact with him. obviously it didn’t work.

derek looks at you confused because you never purposely turn away from him. he looks down at you, “hey, you good? these guys didn’t bother you that much did they?”

“uh no no it’s fine. it’s just a little warm in here, you know?” you try to hide your face with embarrassment while talking to him.

“oh, okay. do you want me to turn the heat down or anything?” he asks you.

“no, it’s fine.” you say.

“okay.” he drops the subject and goes to listening in on scott telling the pack about what needs to happen with the kanima issue.

you look up at him, admiring all his features. his eye, his hair, his body. holy shit. you can’t help but think, he’s really pretty. i guess he noticed you staring at him because he looks down at you mid stare.

“what are you looking at?” he questions.

“nothing, nothing at all.” you say with a little smile while turning away and focusing on what scott is saying. roles reversed now.

this time, derek is staring at you while you listen to scott speak. man, she’s so pretty. he thinks to himself. i wish i could just tell her how i feel without putting her in danger.

“hey y/n? can i talk to you a second?” lydia asks, “in private?”

“yeah, sure.” you say.

she gets up and you follow in tow. she leads you up the stairs of the loft, up into derek’s bedroom.

his room his neat. bed made and well put together. you could’ve guessed that it would’ve been considering how much of a neat freak derek is.

“y/n.” lydia speaks.

“what? what’s wrong, lyds?” you question her.

“you and derek keep looking at each other like your in love. when are you gunna to confess to him that you’ve liked him for the past two years?”

“what?! one, derek definitely doesn’t like me like that, we’re just friends. and two, we aren’t looking at each other like we love each other.” you try explaining, lying out of your ass.

“bullshit. he loves you, you know? he’s just too afraid to admit it. he just doesn’t want you wrapped up in all his issues and getting you in danger or hurt.” lydia says.

“i don’t know, lyds. there’s no way he could like me. i mean, we’ve been friends for almost three years and he hasn’t once shown an interest in me.”

lydia leads you to the bed, sitting you down on it and her sitting right next to you.

“i think you need to ask him how he feels, ‘cause i can tell you right now that the whole pack is getting tired of you guys making googly eyes at each other and acting like you’re in love.” she’s definitely speaking facts. ever since about a year ago, you and derek’s relationship has been different, more flirty but not enough for you to notice a drastic change.

“fine. i’ll ask him after the pack meeting, but if he doesn’t feel the same way i’m not coming to another meeting for like, four months.” you say.

“you’re being dramatic, y/n.”

“nope. i’m serious, id be too embarrassed coming back.” you explain, smiling cheekily.

“you promise to ask him after the meeting then? because i can swear to you that he feels the same way.” lydia says.

“yes lyds, i promise.”

“perfect. then let’s go back down there.” she gets up and starts walking back down to the main floor with you in tow right behind her.

you guys make your way back to the pack and you sit back down by derek. except this time when you look up at him, he’s smirking back down at you.

“what are you smirking at, huh?” you ask him with a slight smile on your face.

he leans down to whisper in your ear so only you can hear what he’s saying, “oh nothing, just that i think you and lydia forgot that i could hear every word that you guys just said.”

oh shit

“whattt… i uh, don’t know what you’re talking about, der.” you try to play it off. acting like your heart rate isn’t beating a thousand miles per hour right now.

“don’t worry, love. i think we have something to talk about after the meeting though.” he says, and then bringing his head back up and focusing on the meeting once more, not giving you time to respond.

the remainder of the meeting seems like it’s forever, when in reality it was probably only twenty minutes at most. at the end, everyone gets up to leave and when you try to, derek grabs your wrist bringing you back down beside him. “i don’t think so, love. we need to talk.”

der, i really don’t think we should. i already know you don’t feel the same way i feel. so what’s the point in even talking about it?” you say.

“who said i don’t feel the same?” he says with a smirk on his face.

“what’s that suppose to mean?”

“it means that i like you too, dumbass. in fact, i am in love with you. i didn’t want to tell you because with us being together it would put you in danger.” he confesses.

“derek..” you start.

“with everything going on, you’re always there for me and i don’t know what i would do without you. if something were to happen i couldn’t live with myself. you’re perfect. you’re funny, smart, beauti-“ you cut him off.

you kiss him.

you couldn’t take him rambling and rambling about how much he wanted you but couldn’t have you. you’re fine with being in danger as long as your with him.

your guys’ mouths mold perfectly in sync. this is even better than i thought it would be. you think to yourself.

eventually, you pull away. gasping for breath and looking at derek. he looks happy, ecstatic even. you’ve never seen him smile this big before.

“derek.”

“yes, love?”

“i don’t care if i am in danger in order to be with you. i want to be with you no matter what is happening in our lives.” you say.

“then i promise to keep you safe, no matter the circumstances.” he says.

“so what does this mean then? like, us?” you ask.

“i guess this means i finally get to take you out.” he pronounces, goofy smile on his face.

“about time.”

#derek hale x reader #derek hale imagine #derek hale fluff #derek hale smut #teen wolf #lydia martin #peter hale

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niningtori · 9 months ago

Text

supermodel | part one

part two

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after beomgyu ghosts you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, your close friend asks you if she can date him instead. you, being the pushover you are, say yes. but beomgyu's not done bothering you.

genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI!!!)

warnings: MDNI!!! cheating (not on you [and it's lowkey justified if you ask me]), unprotected sex (no!), oral (f. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, manipulative!beomgyu if you squint (lmk if you catch it lmao), if i missed anything lmk

word count: 6k (ouuu... definitely not 13k i'm sorry anon my love)

notes: ...hi. so, as most of my followers know, i primarily write angst. this is my first time ever posting smut on here and i genuinely don't know if it's any good. if it's bad,,,, i'm sorry in advance!! see ending for more notes :)

you do not like beomgyu. you don't like the way he keeps his hair so long, or the way he tucks it behind his ears when he's focused. you don't like that he has the same music taste as you and how much of a snob he is about it. you don't like the way he laughs obnoxiously loud and you especially don't like the way his cheeks dimple like little whiskers when he does it. no, you don't like beomgyu one bit.

it hasn't always been like this. there was a time, albeit brief and fleeting, that you really liked the aforementioned grievances you've grown to hate so much. in fact, you liked them so much, you even liked the boy himself. that ship has sailed, though. and it sails further and further as you watch him cuddle up even closer to one of your closest friends, hana. you aren't a bitter person, really. you're usually pretty laidback, all things considered, so when hana asked you if she could date the boy who ghosted you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, you said yes.

do you regret agreeing? well, how can you regret it when hana looks so happy? in fact, she looks happier than ever as beomgyu discreetly places his hand on her inner thigh. oh man. you think you're gonna be sick.

meeting beomgyu was like a meet cute in a romcom. you were alone in a cafe (cliché, but true) when he pulled up a seat and sat next to you. he was cute, he was charming, and, most surprisingly, he was actually really funny. he made you giggle more than once and you almost couldn't believe someone so seemingly perfect wanted anything to do with you, but he did. he was extremely eager, if anything, because as soon as you gave him your number, he texted you asking if you wanted to go out sometime. you, with your innocent heart, could only agree.

your first date was at that same cafe. he had memorized your order, even though he had only met you once, and you felt so flattered your heart skipped a beat. you're a little on the shyer side, but he was able to pull you out of your shell with ease. you'd later find out he has the ability to do that with everyone, but back then, you were amazed by how naturally he pulled it off.

after your first date, you'd texted all your friends about it. they asked for pictures and details, but you said it was too early and you didn't want to jinx it. you're the type to try not to get too caught up in the moment in favor of being more realistic, so it had been a pleasant surprise for most of your friends to hear how excited you were. this could really be something special, you thought.

and special, it was. your second date had been at a nice restaurant you'd never heard of. beomgyu was pulling out all the stops for you and spared nothing when it came to giving you the royal treatment. he was courteous and kind, but still mischievously flirty. you were enamored with everything about him. you were used to being treated kindly on dates, of course, but you had never seen anything quite like beomgyu. it seemed like he couldn't get enough of you, which was a novel feeling, though totally welcomed.

you finally felt confident enough to tell your friends all about him. when asked, you had no problem divulging all the finer details of your dates. you had nothing but praises for him, and even sent one of his instagram pictures to show off his good looks. most of them were taken aback at how handsome he was. hana, however, was not at all surprised. it shocked you to find out that she knew beomgyu, and knew him well. she had floated in the same circle of friends with him in college and you were pleased to find out that he had always been a really nice guy, if a little flighty at times, but he had never been that way with you. plus, it seemed to you that he had matured quite a bit. for once in your life, you got your hopes up. but, like most things, you would come to regret it.

your third and final date had been simple enough. he had asked you to come hang out at his place, but said his friends would likely be coming and going. it was nice. it was intimate. his apartment was small and a little messy, but filled with personality. you smiled when you saw polaroids he had taken of (and with) his friends adorning his bedroom walls. he seemed really sentimental, actually, but you liked that about him. you liked everything about him, really.

so when he leaned in for a kiss while watching some dumb old slasher flick, you closed your eyes and prepared to meet his warm lips. this was real. you would have a boyfriend, a near perfect one. and he liked you. he really, really liked you. what more could you ask for? but you never expected that a phone call would pull you out of your daze. you checked the caller id and immediately became worried. hana very rarely called you, but she said she was having an emergency and you, being the good friend you are, had to bail on beomgyu. the emergency in question was her having a meltdown over some guy she had never even mentioned, but had apparently really liked. you had no choice but to go to her place, bringing a tub of ice cream and all of her favorite snacks in tow. beomgyu said he understood, because of course he did, and said he would text you with other plans.

when he, in fact, did not text you first with plans, you had opted to text him yourself. you figured he had just forgotten or something, so you simply greeted him and apologized again for having to leave. it seems so fucking stupid to you now — the way you waited so anxiously by the phone for a reply that would never come. you remember staying up all night and jolting every time your phone buzzed. you were anxiously awaiting a text, a call, fucking anything, really. but it was pointless. after a few days of radio silence on beomgyu's end, you had pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that he would never respond. what did you do to scare him away? you thought you had done everything right, but you must’ve come on too strong or something. you felt utterly humiliated.

you were in your head again. it wouldn't surprise you if you had imagined the whole fucking thing, actually. but a few weeks later, hana had texted you asking if you were okay with her dating the boy you'd been waiting for. she seemed so hopeful and so happy, how could you say no? just because it didn't work out between you two didn't mean that it couldn't work out between them. maybe, deep down, the ugliest parts of you kind of hoped it wouldn't, but when she texted you with all the filthy details of the first time they hooked up, you knew you were thinking too highly of yourself.

beomgyu doesn't like you, and even if his refusal to text you back wasn't enough of an indication that that's the case, his attitude towards you while dating hana tells you everything you need to know. the way he manages to antagonize you over what would normally be completely menial things should be studied. when you trip over your words, he makes a point to call it out and laugh, which results in you, of course, tripping over your words even more. when you look like shit, he makes sarcastic comments along the lines of "oh i see you've decided to really doll yourself up this evening". what's worse is you're so non-confrontational, you just let him chirp.

what you don't know is that the more unbothered you look, the more eager he is to elicit a reaction out of you. it drives him crazy how nothing seems to drive you crazy, so he pushes and pushes, but it's like a fist landing on cotton. he's on the brink of madness trying to get you to say something, anything. but you never do. you just smile or shake your head and it's all he can do not to snap.

you’re at your favorite bar when you meet him. you’re not alone, or at least you shouldn’t be, but hana has gone outside to make a call. usually, you’d be the first one to accompany her, but you’re honestly not in the mood to hear her flirt with beomgyu (or beomie bear, as she calls him) over the phone. you never are, really, but especially not now as you down another shot of whatever the bartender has deemed as “the strongest shit they’ve got.” you don’t think you look particularly attractive at the moment, but when jay sees you, he’s flocking towards you.

“hey,” he says with a smile as he slides onto the stool next to yours.

“hey,” you reply shyly. are you imagining things or did he seriously just blush at your answer?

“i-i’m jay.” you can’t help but giggle at how nervous he seems. cute.

you take the time to introduce yourself and jay seems relieved that you’re actually receptive to his awkwardness. you like the way it feels to be in control for once. you like the way it feels to be wanted so much. so when he asks you if you want to go out in the near future, you say yes.

in the midst of your conversation, hana comes sauntering back in with a dopey grin on her face. she has, no doubt, just gotten off the phone with beomgyu if her satisfied expression is any indication. her satisfaction turns into surprise when she registers who’s sitting next to you.

“jay?!” she exclaims, taken aback by the familiar boy next to you.

“hana? oh my god, how are you?” he asks, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “we went to college together,” he explains when they part. your previous happiness crumbles in an instant. the nasty part of you wonders if she knows fucking everybody you’re interested in, but you shut it down mercilessly. it's not hana’s fault she's so likable. it's your fault for not being more so, actually.

“i’m good,” she says with a light giggle. they catch up for a moment before she drops an atomic bomb. “you know, i’m actually with beomgyu now.”

“damn, really? i thought that would never actually happen,” he replies, genuine shock falling across his sculpted features. your interest can’t help but be piqued at this.

“what makes you say that?” she asks rather defensively. jay can tell he messed up from her tone and he backtracks immediately.

“o-oh nothing. i just never pegged you two as compatible, but congratulations! i know you’ve liked him for a long time.” ?... ??...???? what the hell?

“what is he talking about?” you can’t help but ask confusedly. hana looks thoroughly reddened as she fumbles for an explanation.

“i-i liked beomie back in college. n-nothing major!” she stammers. you can do nothing but stare. she liked beomgyu and she never told you? well, you were half in love with the boy after three dates and you’re still half in love with him, actually, so it’s not particularly surprising that she fell for him, but the fact that she never mentioned it feels iffy at best. jay can sense the tension, and he cleverly excuses himself with:

“shit, my friends are here. i’ll text you soon?” he says, looking to you for confirmation. you manage to muster up a smile and a nod, but you’re still disturbed by this revelation.

“... are you mad?” hana asks tentatively.

“n-no. of course not!” you say with conviction, but deep down, you know you’re uncomfortable. she probably knows it, too, but she doesn’t pry much further.

“i’m glad you’re not mad,” she sighs. “anyway, it’s not like you’re dating him now.” she pokes at the sore spot on your heart with ease. maybe if she were more sober, she’d see the hurt on your face, but as it is, she doesn’t register a thing.

so hana liked beomgyu back in college? why hadn’t she told you? well, you guess it doesn’t make a difference now. she’s with him. you’re not. what else is there to say, really? but in the back of your mind, gears start turning. you just don’t know it yet.

hana has been a lot nicer to you than usual after that night at the bar. she’s always nice, but she seems hellbent on making sure your prospective date with jay goes well. you suppose it’s her way of making it up to you for withholding her secret crush on beomgyu from you. to be honest, there’s no real reason for her to do so, but you accept her kindness graciously. now, the night before your big date, she’s practically hounding you with questions.

“what are you gonna wear?” she asks over the phone.

“mmm, i dunno yet,” you hum into the speaker. you really don’t know. jay invited you to a house party, which is not the most romantic place in the world, but hana convinced you that he’s just awkward and a group setting (with drinks, no less) would loosen him up. you realize that you want to impress him. you want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl in the room, but nothing you have in your closet quite fits the bill.

“ooh, i know! you can just borrow one of my dresses. what about the black one? the one you complimented last time we went out! i won’t be home tomorrow night, but i’ll leave the key under the mat, okay? so just come grab it when you’re free!” she sounds proud of herself for coming up with that. you don’t have the heart to tell her it’s a little too scandalous for you, so you grit your teeth and accept her peace offering.

“mmm, yeah. that sounds good. thank you, hana,” you reply.

“pay attention to meeee,” you hear a deep voice cut in from over the phone. beomgyu. you try not to think about the way your heart aches when you hear him (very loudly) plant a kiss on… some part of her body. you’re not exactly sure where it is, but you falter when you hear her reaction.

“beomie, ah, not there,” hana moans and you feel a pang in your chest. “hey, i’ve gotta go, okay?” you don’t have to imagine what they’re about to do and it hurts.

“okay,” you say with a bitter smile, but the call drops before you can even reply.

it’s finally the night of the date and you’re anxious, to put it mildly. you don’t know how long you spent trying to get your hair and makeup right, but an ungodly amount of time has passed. you’re almost tempted to skip getting the dress from hana’s apartment, but you really don’t have anything else that suits the occasion, so you begrudgingly hail a cab over to her place.

you enter her apartment and head toward her bedroom, where the pretty black dress is waiting for you. with a sigh, you strip out of your sweats and shimmy into the dress. you look in hana's bedroom mirror and you have to admit that you look pretty good. you feel a lot more confident going out with a guy as handsome as jay now. as you’re fixing up your hair one last time, you’re stunned to hear the apartment door opening. she’s home? weird, but welcome. you need a second pair of eyes on you.

“hey! how do i look?” you say with a smile as you exit her bedroom, but you’re not greeted with hana’s smiling face. instead, you’re met with beomgyu’s frown.

“w-what are you doing here?” you ask, genuinely surprised.

“this is my girlfriend’s apartment. what are you doing here?” you thought he had heard over the phone that you’d be here to pick up the dress tonight. but then, you supposed that he may have been a little preoccupied sucking the skin off of hana to really pay attention to much else. you’re so busy over analyzing this, you don’t even notice how intently beomgyu is staring at you now. even if you did, you’d probably misread it as ridicule rather than what it truly is.

“nothing, i-i’m on my way out,” you reply simply. with that, you start trying to walk past him. before you can, though, he’s asking you questions.

"you're seriously going out with him? in that, too?” he asks, disgust apparent. at least, that’s what it sounds like to you. your eyes survey your own attire and you feel extremely small in this moment, all things considered. normally, you'd shut down and second guess yourself. maybe you do look a little ridiculous in this tiny dress and maybe going out with jay is a bad in idea. maybe he's just fucking with your head and maybe he'll toss you away just like beomgyu did. maybe, maybe, maybe. but then? maybe not. and even if he does, you don't want to hear any of that shit from beomgyu of all people.

"oh, fuck you, beomgyu."

he looks perfectly scandalized by your comment. you’ve never talked back to him before, and certainly not like this. his eyebrows raise and his jaw drops before he can finally choke out the words "e-excuse me?"

"i said fuck you. i really don't give a shit about what you have to say anymore."

you're again trying to barrel past him but he steps in front of the door, scowl etched into his pretty features.

"what? are you mad at me now?" you say mockingly. "well, you don't get to be mad at me. move."

it is genuinely amazing to see beomgyu as he is now. he looks like a child who's floundering for a comeback.

"w-why are you mad? i'm just looking out for you!" oh, you can't help but laugh in his face at that one. he winces when you do.

"my god, that's rich coming from you. what's the worst that could happen? we go on a couple of dates and then he ghosts me? can't say it hasn't happened before."

"th-that's different!" he sputters, face flushing beet red.

"different how?!" you counter. he’s such a fucking hypocrite. you're not the type to get so riled up, but his words have you seeing red. his next words, even more so.

"you... you don't even like me!"

"and why exactly would i like the man who ghosted me, again? you can kick rocks for all i care!" you try to steady your breathing. blowing up like this right before your first date with jay can't be good for your head. luckily, it seems like beomgyu is still fishing for words when you regain your composure. "whatever. i'm done. goodbye, beomgyu." you reach around him for the door handle, but he slams it shut.

"what the fuck?!" you exclaim exasperatedly.

"you don't understand," beomgyu says, voice trembling and eyes scarlet. "hana said you didn't like me."

"hana? what does hana have to do with — oh." oh.

"she said you didn't like me and thought i was obnoxious. she told me she called and interrupted our date because you wanted her to.”

“why didn’t you just ask, beomgyu? i liked you!” you exclaim. he ruined everything all because of a few words from someone else?

“why would i ask when hana told me that you didn’t want anything to do with me?”

"so you believed hana instead of just opening your fucking mouth? what, does she wipe your ass and spoon feed you, too?

“watch your mouth,” beomgyu says lowly.

“or what?” you taunt with a smirk. “you’ll be mad? is beomie bear gonna lose his temper?” you’re on your tiptoes now, face mere inches away from his. where you got the confidence to provoke the man who towers over you even on the worst of days, you have no idea, but the idea of seeing beomgyu squirm is lighting a fire in you you didn’t know existed. is he gonna hit you? scream in your face? you’re excited to see how he reacts. when his gaze flickers from your smiling eyes to your lips, you don’t even get half a second to question his odd look when his lips come crashing down onto yours.

his big hands grip the back of your head, holding you in place as he punishes your lips with a force you’ve only ever dreamt about. his lips are chapped and you can taste a hint of his favorite lip balm, which he had smeared on just before his arrival. you’re too shocked to move, you’re too shocked to do anything besides gasp when he bites your bottom lip. he takes your open mouth as permission to shove his warm tongue into it. you want to say the kiss is full of fire, and it is, but there’s an overwhelming sense of gentleness, too. it’s hard to put into words, so instead of trying to, you let yourself melt into the feeling. he takes your acquiescence as a sign to go even further. at this point, he’s practically dragging you over to the couch. you’re surprised at how you don’t even attempt to resist when he pushes you down. you’re seated now and he licks his lips hungrily as he lifts your pathetic excuse for a dress off of your body and tosses it somewhere behind the couch. his eyes alight with something akin to raw anger when he takes note of the fact that you are, in fact, not wearing a bra.

“you were seriously gonna go out like that? what a whore,” he says menacingly. you’re now clad in nothing but your favorite pair of underwear. you would usually feel insecure in front of such an intense gaze, but beomgyu looks at you like he wants to devour every part of you. and he will, with time.

“i thought jay would like it,” you shrug. his eyes burn even brighter and he looks like he’s on the brink of snapping. god, fucking with him is so exhilarating. is this how he feels when he’s trying to get under your skin? maybe you do understand why he antagonizes you, actually. this shit feels amazing.

he kneels down before you and possessively kisses your neck until it's numb — pouring out hot kisses and sucking on the skin there like he’s staking his claim. it’s almost like he’s daring another man to touch you, and he doesn’t have to say anything because it’s like you already understand his intentions, and you revel in it.

his lips travel down to your breasts and they almost ache in anticipation. cruelly, he avoids your pert nipples and opts to circle his tongue around them, sucking on the soft skin and leaving marks in his wake. one of his hands move down to your underwear and he stops his teasing when he feels how wet you are.

“j-jesus, is all this for me?” you’re too embarrassed to respond. he’s trying to keep his cool, but he’s taken aback by how soaked you are. he was already hard just from the kiss alone, but now he aches. he slides your underwear to the side and actually groans when he sees your slickness for himself. slowly, teasingly, he finds his way to your clit and you let out a soft gasp when he finally touches it. you’re unable to stifle a moan when he gingerly takes one of his long, calloused fingers and begins to push it into your cunt.

“t-tight!” he hisses. “how am i gonna fit?” you’d roll your eyes in annoyance at his self-aggrandizing words if you could muster up anything other than the feeling of pure bliss as he slides another finger in. he’s kneeling between your legs, and you feel some sort of sick satisfaction as you watch the boy lick his lips before trailing opened-mouth kisses on your thighs as he inches closer and closer to your cunt.

you feel his cool breath against your core and you’re seconds away from begging him to continue, but he seems even more eager than you are as he quickly buries his face into your heat. his first lick is long and slow, but you can feel the vibrations from his moan and it reverberates through your legs all the way to your toes. as if he’s a man starved, he messily licks and sucks on your pussy while pumping his fingers in and out mercilessly. you have to hold onto his long hair, not because you want to hurt him, but because it’s the only thing keeping you sane. when he hooks his fingers, you can’t help but call out his name.

“b-beomgyu!” his darkened eyes snap up to meet yours while his pace becomes even more punishing and, before you know it, you’re spasming around his fingers. he should stop there, but he continues with little kitten licks until you’re begging him to show you mercy.

he reluctantly parts from your cunt and you can see evidence of your release dripping down his chin. his messy hair, his soaked face, his fucking everything looks like it’s been branded by you and you can’t help but gulp, heat pooling in your stomach again, far too soon after your intense orgasm. usually, a man would wipe his face and clean himself up, but he does nothing of the sort as he leans towards you and practically pleads with you to kiss him.

“so good, want you to taste it,” he says simply as he pulls you in for another filthy kiss. he looks possessed, almost, by your taste. by your scent. by you.

your cum mixed with the taste of beomgyu himself is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he wraps his tongue around yours, as if he’s selflessly just trying to share this new discovery.

he unbuckles his own pants like a madman, hastily yanking them down. so hypnotized, he doesn’t even think to take them off all the way, nevermind his shirt. his cock springs up and it’s thick and long, the angry veins juxtaposing from his perfect, doll-like face. he was right. you don’t know how he’ll fit in your tight pussy.

still, he ruts his bare cock against your throbbing cunt and you both moan when it accidentally catches against your entrance.

“c-condom?” you ask breathily.

“p-please, please just let me feel you. i can pull out,” he whines. who are you to say no to a man begging?

“...o-okay,” you begin to choke out, and almost before you can even finish, he’s pushing himself in. you both groan at the feeling. he meets resistance before he’s even halfway in and his eyes redden with a lust so strong it almost scares you.

“s-so tight, so perfect for me,” he says before pulling out and harshly ramming himself back in, sheathing himself completely in you. your eyes begin to sting with pure pleasure. he sits for a moment, just enjoying the way your pussy sucks him in. nothing in your life has ever made you feel this heavenly. not that you’re going to heaven, especially after this, and certainly not if hana has anything to say about it. oh my god, hana.

“w-wait,” you interrupt before he can pull out again. “we can’t! hana—”

“don’t give a fuck about hana. j-jus’ want you,” he slurs with that lisp that you love so much. and that’s when he really starts. ruthlessly, he sets his pace. ramming into you as the filthy sounds of skin against skin and slick against slick permeate the room. his head lulls back in sheer ecstasy and you’re crying out his name over and over, like a mantra. it’s the only thing chaining you to reality. that, and his viselike grip on your thighs.

“so g-good, so warm. never h-had a pussy this good before,” he praises as he continues drilling into you. one of his hands snakes its way to your clit and you’re seeing stars. hot tears spring in your eyes and you’re literally crying as his cock pushes you further and further off the deep end.

“so fucking good for me. you wouldn't even care if i came inside, would you, slut? walking around in that tiny dress, just begging to be fucked.”

“n-no! i’m not begging f-for anything,” you manage to choke out.

“really? but you look pretty fucking desperate right now. should i stop?” he asks with a mean smile, slowing down the speed of his hips snapping into yours.

“please don’t! i-i’m sorry. please don’t stop!” you whimper. he wasn’t gonna stop, anyway, but watching tears pour out of your eyes at the mere thought of his cock not being inside of you brings him to another level of smugness.

“shh, it’s okay, baby. i won’t stop. i’ll give you exactly what you need.”

“b-beomie!” you cry. “not gonna last much longer!”

“me neither, pretty girl. fuck, come with me, okay?” he hisses.

“come inside?” you plead. he almost stills at this, but his brutal pace never stops despite it all.

“fuck! i knew that good girl act was a sham. you want me to get you pregnant so everyone knows who you belong to?”

“yes! d-don’t care. just want you,” you whine, mirroring his words from earlier. that’s enough to make him lose himself. his resolve snaps and he’s painting the inside of your walls while you helplessly clench around him. it takes a minute to catch your breath and you can’t help but lock eyes with beomgyu as he stays buried in your warmth. his gaze is still lustful, that much you know, but there’s an unknown feeling teeming in his eyes, too.

gingerly, he pulls out and you both watch as his cum trickles out of you. his eyes are alight with fascination and you don’t doubt for a second that he wants to lap it all up and feed it right back to you, but he doesn’t. he simply grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for another heavy kiss.

“wanted to do this for so long,” he says after you part.

“how long?” you can’t help but ask.

“since i saw you sitting alone at the café,” he shrugs and smiles shyly. he’s wanted you since he first saw you, which is enough to make you grin, but the blissful smile is wiped off of your face when you remember beomgyu isn’t just some random guy who’s attracted to you. he’s hana’s boyfriend.

you know now that she orchestrated the downfall of your relationship with beomgyu, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel guilty as hell for fucking her boyfriend on her couch. oh my god, what have you done? you fucked your friend’s boyfriend in her own home. not only that, but you fucked raw and even let him come inside. you shiver when you recount his nasty words about getting you pregnant, and he really might’ve. you’re not on the pill or anything. oh god.

“i-i need to get out of here,” you say frantically. you hurriedly push him off of you and wince when you feel his cum leaking out of your cunt. you stumble to the bedroom, legs still weak from what just transpired, and grab your sweats and snake them back on.

“what are you doing?” beomgyu asks, confused and somewhat annoyed that you’ve effectively ruined the mood.

“i’m getting the fuck out of here. this… this whole thing was a mistake,” you say, on the verge of tears. you don't even deserve to cry, honestly, but you want to, anyway.

“a-a mistake? why? wait, don’t go!” he says, stepping in front of you again.

“beomgyu, are you fucking with me? you’re with hana! why wouldn’t this be a mistake? oh my god, and i-i’m not — i don’t take birth control. we really might’ve… fuck just move, please!” you plead. you think you might be on the verge of a panic attack, tears and snot streaming down your face. you just wish he would fucking move so you could get out of here and start fixing everything because the guilt you feel just by seeing his face is all-consuming. there’s no way you can face hana again after this. you’ll cut her out of your life, and when you’re courageous enough, you’ll tell her what you did to her. you’ll lose hana and all the rest of your friends once they hear about what kind of person you really are. and as for beomgyu, well, knowing hana, she’ll stay with him and you’ll be the homewrecker in this story.

“hey, shh, it’s okay,” beomgyu coos softly, taking your tear-streaked face in his big, warm hands. “talk to me. what are you thinking?” “i… i ruined everything,” you begin with a sob. “i hurt hana. you hurt hana. a-and everybody’s going to be so fucking mad at me. god, she’s never going to forgive me.”

“listen,” he says softly while rubbing the pads of his thumbs against the tears falling down your cheeks. “she lied to you, and she lied to me, too.”

“because she loves you, beomgyu. she only did it because she loves you so much,” you argue, tearing your face from his grasp, but he only locks his arms around your waist instead.

“and what about me? what about how i feel?”

“what are you trying to say?” you sniffle.

“i’m saying i meant it when i said i don’t give a fuck about hana. i’m sorry, but i don’t. i never did,” he says as if he’s coaxing a child. you want to believe his words so fucking badly, but you’ve seen the way they’ve been attached at the hip these past few months and you can’t help but feel like he’s just a) full of shit and/or b) pussydrunk on you. he can sense your apprehension and wants to tear his own hair out in frustration.

“can i be honest with you?” he asks.

you nod in response.

“i… i only started hanging out with her because i knew she was close to you. i don’t know if it’s because i wanted to get back at you or if i just wanted to see you more. maybe a bit of both, honestly. i-i know that’s wrong, but it’s true.” you’re at a loss for words. all you can ask is:

“why?” he chuckles at this.

“because i like you, dummy,” he says sweetly while releasing one of the hands that grips your waist, using it to fix up your hair. he likes you? the same beomgyu who has effectively harassed you for the past few months… likes you?

“you have a fucking hilarious way of showing it. i thought you hated me,” you retort.

“i was just teasing,” he says softly. “i just wanted you to notice me and nothing i did ever seemed to bother you.”

“well, it did,” you scoff.

“i’m sorry,” he says sheepishly. “i just like you a lot, okay? i’m sorry for being an asshole. and i’ll make it up to you, i promise.” you want to say okay, but the fact remains that he’s still very much hana’s boyfriend. regardless of his feelings, you still betrayed her and your friends aren’t going to be very understanding of your situation with him. the only chance you have of retaining your friendships now is to cut beomgyu off and beg on your knees for forgiveness. but you like him. you really, really like him. and the temptation to relent is even stronger as he begins to plant kisses on your face along with promises to dump her and, in his words, to “be good from now on”. when his innocent kisses turn lustful and begin to trail down your neck, what else can you do besides agree?

notes pt. 2: so...? i hope this was okay i really do LMFAOO. i have no idea how this will be received. if it's bad, i might delete it because i truly don't know what i'm doing. anyway, feedback is always appreciated! it gives me the confidence to branch out like this so i'd love to hear from y'all :)

permanent taglist*: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

*minors and ageless blogs on my permanent taglist were not added for obvious reasons. i made the taglist before i decided to make supermodel smut, so if you would like to be removed from this or any future smut works, please message me!

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lipglossanon · 15 days ago

Text

Pound Puppy

Leon S. Kennedy x puppy!reader

A little more savory tier commission from anon 💜

word count: 2340

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, hybrid au, hybrid reader, bestie Claire making an appearance, praise kink, oral (m receiving), shower sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, piss kink, marking

proofread

Leon walks by the same alley on his way home. Unfortunately for him, the parking for his neighborhood is a complete crap shoot, so he always ends up parking at the end of the street to walk to his house. It’s a pain in his ass, but until work cuts down on his hours, he’s stuck with it.

He doesn’t see you every time he passes the alleyway, but, now and again, he’ll catch sight of you hunkered down, tinkering with something in your hands. You're a hybrid, practically a pup from what he can tell. You don’t seem to have a collar or an owner. Dirt smudges your face and hands, and your clothes look worn and ratty. Leon feels a bit bad leaving you out there, but you always run off when you notice him at the lip of the alley.

He mentions all of this offhandedly on the phone one afternoon with Claire, who throws a complete fit. She takes the time to drive over that weekend and spends hours coaxing you out of that dingy and dirty alleyway. Your hesitant, which Leon can understand; he and Claire are total strangers.

Claire brings you into his house, and to his surprise, with the intention to keep you at his place.

“She’d probably be more comfortable with you,” he hisses to the red-haired woman once you’re out of earshot. “And besides, you’re the one who talked her out of that place.”

“Yes, I did, Leon,” Claire rolls her eyes at him. “But this neighborhood is familiar to her. I’m not going to force her to leave the only place she can kind of call home. Suck it up.”

Leon throws his hands up and leaves Claire to help get you settled after giving you a bath and clean clothes. Before leaving, Leon’s supposed friend gives him a quick rundown of the information she was able to glean.

She ticks off each point by throwing up a finger. “She’s in her 20s. She’s afraid of water. She has no family. And her last owner dumped her as soon as she quit being a cutesy puppy.”

He frowns at that last bit, but Claire pushes on giving him your name and how long you’ve been a stray.

“So, just be nice and keep a routine until she adapts. Call me if you need me!”

And with that, Leon watches her leave out of his front door and climb onto her Harley Davidson. After slipping on her helmet, Claire gives him a little wave while he sees her off from his front porch. He tosses up a lazy two-finger salute, and she revs her bike, then peels off down his street.

Sighing, he walks back into his house. Looking up, Leon sees you hovering in the living room, biting your nails nervously. You fidget in place, toes curled into the rug while you tug on an old shirt of his, the hem fraying.

Leon gestures to the couch. “You’re welcome to watch the TV. Uh, the cable should be set up.”

You cock your head, soft ears flopping with the movement. “I can sit on the couch? At my old place, I wasn’t allowed on the furniture.”

Leon’s lips twitch, but he keeps his face neutral. “Yeah, I don’t mind what you do as long as you don’t make a mess of the place. Just be courteous and clean up after yourself.”

Nodding, your tail wags slowly. “Okay, thanks, Mister.”

“Leon,” he scratches a hand through his hair, a sigh leaving him. “Just call me Leon.”

You nod, a small smile crossing your face. “Alright. Thanks, Leon.”

He keeps you at arms length, but you’re slowly starting to grow on him. Being greeted at the door when he gets home is nice. He’s forgotten what it’s like to have someone around—another presence taking up space in his home. It’s not stifling like he thought it would be; you’re sweet, and Leon’s realizing he needs sweetness in his life.

From that weird afternoon of you moving in all the way until now, Leon has lived with you for a couple of months. He’s noticed you’re more cuddly and have even taken to sneaking into his room to sleep with him. You’ve wormed your way into his life, and he’s all the happier for it.

He bathes you every night, helping you stay calm and cool while he washes your ears and tail. At first, it was all very clinical and quick, but now he lets you relax and take your time. It’s helped tremendously with your fear of the water. However, it’s also led to a dilemma.

There’s no denying; you’re a very pretty pup. Leon tries his best, but he can’t help but sneak glances at your naked tits and cute pussy. He’s able to keep it under wraps, wearing jeans to help hide any stiffness he may develop. His plan works for a while—until he ends up staying late one night.

You greet him at the door like usual, tail wagging and ears perked up. He kicks off his shoes and ruffles your ears.

“Bath time?” You smile, tugging on his sleeve.

Leon glances at his watch. “Shit. Yeah, sorry work ran long, sweetheart. We’ll get you your bath so you can go to bed.”

You clasp your hands around his bicep, nuzzling into his arm while he guides you over to the bathroom. Once inside, you stay glued to him, watching with wide eyes as the tub fills up with water. As soon as it’s ready, Leon turns to let you undress and climb over the lip. He takes off his suit jacket and hangs it over the towel hook on the door.

He moves back over to you naked and wet in the tub. Too little, too late. Leon remembers that he’s just wearing slacks and not his usual jeans. Cock thickening, he quickly kneels on the mat next to the tub, keeping his waist out of your line of sight. You smile at him, titling your head so he can help scrub your ears.

Leon listens as you tell him about your day, asking questions about his—your voice soothing and soft. You dip your head back to rinse off the soap, and as you raise back up, he watches the suds trickle down your neck across the swell of your breasts. Shaking your head, you sling water from your hair and ears, giggling when Leon calls out a lighthearted hey.

Reaching in, he splashes you, making you giggle harder, splashing him back. You smack the water harder than intended, and a deluge covers Leon, soaking his shirt and pants.

“Oh no! I’m sorry,” you raise up onto your knees, peering over the side of the tub to see how much of a mess you made.

“It’s okay,” Leon blinks water from his eyes, then freezes in place when he feels a warm hand pet across his bulge.

Wiping a hand across his face, his blue eyes warily take in your expression, but what he finds is nothing but interest. You rub his cock through his slacks, and he throbs, making you giggle—tail wagging happily.

“I just thought my nose was getting mixed up,” you murmur, eyes dropping down to his bulge. “You always smelled turned on.”

He groans when you squeeze him gently.

Biting your lip, you whisper, “It always got me really wet.”

“What a naughty little puppy,” he murmurs, reaching forward to grope your wet tits. Whining, you arch your back, pressing your breasts more firmly into his palms.

He massages the soft peaks, fingers digging into your breasts and squeezing. Dragging his fingertips around your areola, he pinches your nipples until you whimper, thighs rubbing together underneath the water. Letting go of your tits, he leans forward to pull the stopper on the bath.

Pouting, you gaze at him as he stands up. “Is it time to get out?”

“No, we’re gonna take a shower together, sweetheart,” he murmurs, flicking on the water before undressing and stepping into the tub.

The cool spray hits his back, making him shiver. His hard cock bobs in front of your face, and you lean forward to lick across the tip. Groaning, Leon’s hips buck forward, cockhead grazing your cheek and smearing precum across your skin.

“Pup—“

His sentence cuts off with a moan when you open your mouth and begin lathing your tongue across his dick.

“Taste so good,” you pant, tail a blur behind you, ears relaxed against your head. “Can I lick you whenever I want?”

“Fuck,” Leon rubs your soft ears. “Yeah, pup, you can lick my cock as much as you want.”

Humming, you let your tongue lap at his tip before nosing your way down to his balls. He tips his head back, water wetting his hair as your hot little mouth sucks and kisses his squishy sac. You smear your own spit across your face, tongue bathing his balls in your drool.

“Come on, sweetheart, suck my dick,” Leon coos, grabbing the back of your head to guide your mouth back up to his leaking cock.

“Mmm hmm,” you sigh, eyes half lidded, while Leon feeds his cock past your lips.

“God, such a good girl,” he groans, and you whine around his thick length. “Yeah, you are. Such a good puppy for me.”

He rocks his hips against your face, forcing his tip to kiss the back of your throat. Spit bubbles and spills from around your lips as he keeps his cock in your mouth. Every time you swallow around him, his dick twitches and throbs on your tongue, precum leaking down your throat.

Leon grunts and presses closer, pushing his dick a little deeper; it makes you gag hard, and he pulls out—thick, slimy spit hanging from his cock in strings. His abs and hips flex, arousal burning hot in his blood.

“Look at you, so gorgeous,” he praises, and your eyes flutter. “My good puppy.”

Moaning, you sink your mouth back down on his cock, choking when you press too far but not stopping in the slightest. He pulls his dick from your swollen lips, then bends forward to slip his hands underneath your armpits to pull you up on your feet.

“Let me feel this sexy pussy,” he rumbles, lips brushing across your fuzzy ear.

Whining, you cant your hips toward him. “Please, Leon. Play with my pussy.”

Both of you let out sounds of pleasure when his fingers part your slick folds, digits pressing teasingly at your hole.

“Such a wet puppy pussy,” he coos, dropping a kiss at the corner of your lips. “Does she need a cock stuffing her cute hole?”

“Please, oh please,” you mewl, tail bumping against the tiled wall. “Wanna feel full.”

He hikes one of your legs around his hip before gripping his cock and notching it at your clenching heat. Pressing the tip inside, he uses both hands to grab the fat of your ass to pull you onto his cock as he sinks deeper into your cunt.

“So tight, fuck,” he groans, pelvis flush against your own. “God, gonna make me nut so fast, sweetheart.”

“Leon,” you moan loudly, nails clawing up his back and making his cock pulse inside your snug pussy.

Leon blames his recent celibacy for his quick trigger response to having your soft wet pussy clamping down on his dick. You don’t seem to be much better off, pussy walls rippling and squeezing around his cock while you moan and pant against his chest. He moves a hand between your bodies, fingers circling your swollen clit.

“So slippery and soft, baby,” he growls. “Cum for me so I can cream your sweet little pussy.”

“I’m so close,” you drool, hips humping your cunt down onto his cock. “G’nna cum, Leon. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Good girl. I want you to cum. Want you to squeeze my cock with that fat puppy pussy,” he groans, fingers strumming across your clit faster and faster.

You sink your sharp teeth into his shoulder and scream, body twitching and shuddering as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Leon can’t stop himself, fucking you through your aftershocks to chase his own climax. He buries his cock to the hilt in your hole, spilling hot and thick inside your cunt. You moan, pussy milking him for every drop of cum in his balls.

After you both catch your breath, Leon slides his cock from your tight hole with a sigh. He then helps ease your leg back onto the ground. Rubbing your arms, he leans forward and kisses your forehead, making you preen. Letting another few seconds pass in comfortable silence, Leon drops his arms to his side.

“Gotta piss,” he mutters, moving to get out.

Your fingers latch onto his arm, big eyes pleading up at him.

“Mark me up,” you nuzzle against his neck. “Mark your territory.”

Leons half-hard cock twitches in interest but stays soft. “Baby…”

“Please,” you bat your eyes, and he’s quickly nodding in agreement.

There’s no sense denying it to himself— he thinks it’s hot as hell you want him to piss on you. Too bad his refractory period isn’t immediate. He grips his cock, and you kneel down in front of him. A few drops of urine leak from his tip. You whine, and Leon relaxes into it, hot piss steadily streaming onto your neck and tits. His eyes watch it coat your skin, a possessive satisfaction settling in his chest.

Shifting his feet, he uses his grip to aim his cock at your face, piss hitting your lips and chin. You drop your mouth open with a moan.

“Fuck, such a good fucking puppy for me,” he grunts, directing the stream of urine onto your tongue.

You keep your mouth open, swallowing Leon’s piss until it slows down to a trickle before tapering off completely. Humming, you look up at his with glassy eyes.

“Thank you, Leon.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

#ko fi commissions #kofi commission #commissions #fic request #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #hybrid!reader #puppy!reader #leon kennedy x puppy!reader #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x hybrid!reader

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vikkirosko · 3 months ago

Note

Can I ask Ciel, Alois, Sebastian, Claude, Ash Landers and Charles Grey with a child reader ?

Reader is the granddaughter of the Queen of England and the next in line to rule England. She's just a little 5 years old girl, but she's the brightest ray of sunshine in this world.

She's a nice child and wants to help her people. She is very close to the people, and isn't scared to go in the poorest part of London (but protected by Charles Grey and Ash) to give charity.

Ash is her butler and for him, reader is the purest soul in existence. He's just mad that reader loves to go to the Phantohive and Trancy mansion...

Thanks !

Platonic headcanons The Queen's granddaughter

♟️ Ciel Phantomhive x kid fem!Reader 👁

Ciel has always followed the Queen's orders. He was a real watchdog who took his job seriously, but of all the royal family, you were the only one who came to him personally. You were the Queen's favorite granddaughter and heir to the throne. Even if you came without an invitation, he could not refuse you, especially since if you came, you always came on business

You wanted to help your people and therefore came to him to help arrange events for the poor. He didn't understand why you always did it yourself and why you were even interested in it, because you were only five years old, but you really took what you were doing very seriously. You sincerely wanted to help people, and maybe that's why ordinary people loved you so much and hoped that you would really become their queen

Every time you prepared events together, you took full part in both the preparation and the event itself. Ciel saw how sincerely you smiled and how you really tried to help not only with words, but also with deeds. You never gave him orders, you didn't take advantage of your position, but you could ask him for anything, and usually earl complied with your requests

Ciel understood that the older you get, the more you will try to do for the people and the country. Perhaps when you get older, under your leadership, England could flourish in a way it has never flourished in all of history

😈 Sebastian Michaelis x kid fem!Reader 🐈‍⬛

Sebastian met you when you arrived at Ciel's. He knew that you were the queen's granddaughter and an important guest at the manor. He always prepared various treats for your arrival, and to his surprise, you always thanked him for it. He had seen many aristocrats, but you seemed to be one of the few who really sincerely thanked not only the owner of the manor, but also the servants for their work

Sometimes you brought small gifts for the servants, including Sebastian. He was surprised by this, but the more often you saw each other, the more he was convinced that your soul was bright and pure. For demons, such a soul was a tasty morsel, and under other circumstances, he would not have been willing to get this piece for himself, but now he had another goal. But that didn't mean that he would miss the opportunity to annoy the angel who was constantly by your side

Sebastian remained polite and courteous to you. He continued to play his role as the perfect butler, watching you try to help people. You were like the princesses from fairy tales, kind, innocent, eager to help the suffering. It seemed funny to him and he was sure that you would continue to keep your soul as pure

Maybe someday, he'll be able to see what kind of princess you'll grow up to be. But for now, you remained a child who tried her best to help her people. For Sebastian, your actions were something naive, but he wasn't going to tell you about it. He continued to watch you change and interact with Ciel, knowing that it could be beneficial

🗡 Charles Grey x kid fem!Reader 🍧

Charles has always done his job well. The Queen entrusted him with important matters, so the fact that she assigned him to be your protector did not cause much surprise. You were the queen's granddaughter and next in line to the throne, but at the same time you were just a five-year-old girl who needed protection. That's why Charles accompanied you every time you left the palace

You often visited the parts of London where the poor lived, and each time Charles accompanied you. He made sure that no one hurt you, because someone could try to take advantage of you and your kindness. You really tried very hard to help your people, and when you returned, you always took Charles to the pastry shops to thank him for once again keeping you company

Charles looked out for you and could take you to places Ash would never let you go. Charles knew that you had different positions in society and when you were with someone, he always behaved politely to you, but in a more relaxed environment, he became more relaxed and looked after you like an older brother who allowed you to be just a child, even if he knew that if Ash found out about it Charles would have been reprimanded

Charles remained a loyal knight to you no matter what. He protected you and accompanied you, no matter where you needed to go. You were a sweet and innocent princess, and Charles was your knight who was ready to protect you even when you became queen, taking your grandmother's place

🕷 Alois Trancy x kid fem!Reader 🌹

Alois has seen a lot of bad things in his life. People were cruel to him, and when he even had the illusion of power, he began to use it. When he met you, he was sure that you, who had a golden spoon in your hand since birth, would be the same as the others. You were the queen's granddaughter, and he wouldn't be surprised if you were arrogant even though you were only five years old. But he was genuinely perplexed when you turned out to be completely different from what he thought

You were kind and caring towards ordinary people, and for some reason you were kind to him too. Alois could act like a moody child with you, but you were still kind to him. You offered him to participate in charity events that you organized to help people, but he refused. But he liked the fact that you took care of him too

He saw perfectly well that despite the fact that you were friendly towards him, Ash, your grandmother's butler, who accompanied you, was clearly against you communicating. It was as if he knew the whole truth about his past, but he was trying to find a way to convince you that Alois was not worthy to communicate with you. It made him angry, but the fact that you were talking to him anyway calmed him down

More and more often it seemed to him that he was beginning to believe in goodness. You gave him a piece of your light, healed him with your kindness, and although Alois would never admit it, he even liked it. It wasn't often that he met people who would be so genuinely friendly to him, and he didn't want to lose you

👿 Claude Faustus x kid fem!Reader 👓

From the first look at you, Claude realized that you had an innocent, pure soul, one of the brightest souls he had ever seen. You came to visit Alois, but you always paid attention to the servants, which only allowed Claude to be more convinced of his rightness. He just couldn't afford to miss a soul like yours, but it would seem that absolutely everything was against his purpose

Every time you came to Alois, your escort, Ash, came with you, who tried his best to shorten your time there, and when Claude appeared in his field of vision, Ash tried his best to protect you from him. It was as if he knew who Claude really was and protected your soul from his attempts to get close. It made Claude angry, but he couldn't openly speak out against Ash

Despite the fact that Ash tried to prevent you from communicating with Claude, you still communicated with him. You didn't care that he was a butler and you were a princess. You didn't divide people into servants and aristocrats, striving to help everyone, which is what Claude used. But another advantage for him was that under your influence, his master's soul became brighter, gradually changing

Claude intended to try to get your soul while he had the chance. Perhaps if you were older, it would be easier to do this, but your soul will no longer be the same as it is now. That's why he wasn't going to postpone his goal for later, even if Ash was going to interfere with him further

🪽 Ash Landers x kid fem!Reader 🗡

From the very first day of your acquaintance, Ash realized that he was obliged to protect you. You were the brightest and most innocent soul he had ever met, and that you were worthy of salvation. The fact that the Queen entrusted him with taking care of you only simplified his mission. You were the queen's favorite granddaughter and the next in line to the throne, but you were still a child, so he just had to make sure that nothing would blacken your innocent soul

You often traveled to poor areas of London and to small villages where you helped people with food and money. He was pleased that you did it, but he always made sure that none of the sinners hurt you. However, there was something that he absolutely did not like. He didn't like the fact that you often visited Ciel Phantomhive and Alois Trancy. Ash was sure that their company was a bad influence on you and that you should not see them, because your soul could suffer because of this

Angel tried many times to convince you that two counts were not the best company for you, but you were determined. He understood that in your eyes they did not pose a threat, so he took it upon himself to protect you, especially from demons, for whom your soul was like a tasty morsel. Ash just couldn't let the demons get you

Every day it seemed to you that Ash was taking care of you more and more. You didn't pay attention to it, being sure that it was your grandmother's request. You didn't even realize that he wanted to protect you from everything that could blacken your soul. You were a princess who was worthy of ruling New England, and he intended to make sure that was the case

#Kuroshitsuji #Kuroshitsuji x Reader #Kuroshitsuji headcanons #Ciel Phantomhive #Ciel Phantomhive x Reader #Sebastian Michaelis #Sebastian Michaelis x Reader #Alois Trancy #Alois Trancy x Reader #Claude Faustus #Claude Faustus x Reader #Charles Grey #Charles Grey x Reader #Ash Landers #Ash Landers x Reader

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ppomumgranatum · 10 months ago

Text

truth or dare.

also available on Ao3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

type: one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader

word count: 6.5k

Rating: M

Warnings: use of profanities, mild sexual content, Intense make out sesh 😳, characters are in their 7th year.

Summary: Truths emerged and friendships were tested as you found yourself confronting two years' worth of suppressed feelings towards Sebastian. Drunk.

It was girls night for you, Imelda, Natty, and Poppy at the Three Broomsticks. The warmth of the crackling fire danced across the cosy interior of the Three Broomsticks as the four of you settled around the table just by it. The mood is relaxed, the air thick with the aroma of butterbeer and laughter. Shirts and ties, usually stiff and proper, now hang loosely as you let yourselves unwind, embracing the comfort of casual company.

Behind the bar, Sirona moved with practised efficiency, her long apron swaying as she poured drinks and served food with a smile. The clinking of glasses and the clatter of plates blend with the lively chatter of the patrons, creating a vibrant symphony of sound that fills the room.

She made her way over to your table not long after Imelda signalled for another round of butterbeer. If anyone was keeping count, it might have been your third glass, and the beverage had everyone feeling increasingly lighter.

The Slytherin quidditch captain suggested that they should play a game of truth or dare, knowing the game would make the night more exciting and perhaps deepen their friendship.

The rules were simple: each of you would take turns spinning a bottle to determine who would be asked the truth or dare. The chosen person would then have to decide between revealing a truth or completing a dare, no matter how daring or embarrassing it might be. If anyone refuses to do so, they must chug their entire glass of butterbeer.

Imelda, always the adventurous one, volunteered to go first. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she spun the bottle and watched eagerly as it came to a stop, pointing straight at Poppy. Without hesitation, she immediately challenged her Hufflepuff friend, “I dare you to dance in the middle of the Tavern.”

Poppy, ever the good sport, rose to the challenge with a laugh, “Natty, I know you’re the Gryffindor, but let me show you bravery.”

With a confident smile, Poppy gracefully made her way to the centre of the bustling tavern. The eyes of the other patrons followed her every move, curious and amused by the unexpected spectacle unfolding before them. She began to dance, her movements fluid and graceful, drawing cheers and applause from the crowd. With each twirl and leap, she seemed to radiate a contagious energy, filling the room with a sense of joy and excitement.

They cheered her friend on from the table, her dare proving to be a testament to Poppy's drunken adventurous spirit and unwavering bravery.

“I can’t believe she’s actually doing it.” you laughed, feeling disbelieved that drunk Poppy is very funny.

“Go Poppy!” Imelda clapped and cheered at her tiny friend who’s twirling in the middle of strangers.

As Poppy completed her final twirl, she accidentally collided with a taller guy, and his arms instinctively encircled her petite waist to steady her, preventing any stumble.

“Oh! Sorry!” As Poppy apologised, she quickly realised the man she had bumped into was none other than Ominis.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Ominis just chuckled good-naturedly, “Nice moves.”

“T-thanks.” She knew that Ominis was simply being courteous because obviously, he couldn’t have seen her doing all those moves.

“Oi! Poppy, no!” Imelda shouted from across the room, prompting the two people to turn their heads to the loud girl calling out for her “It’s girls night. Come back!”

Poppy chuckled, shaking her head at Imelda's exuberant interruption. "Looks like I'm being summoned," she remarked, casting a playful glance at Ominis before walking away from his embrace. Ominis smiled understandingly as Poppy made her way back to our table, her steps light with amusement.

Your gaze followed Ominis as he made his way back to his own table, and you found yourself locking eyes with Sebastian, who obviously came with his best friend. You were having so much fun with your girls you didn’t notice they were here. You didn’t even know that Sebastian was planning to visit the Three Broomsticks as well.

His piercing gaze held yours for a moment, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and you returned his smile. It felt as if your gut was twisted and turned, in the most enchanting way possible because, Merlin, that man is beautiful as hell.

Natty nudged you to get your attention back and smiled kind of teasingly but you didn’t really bother.

The night went on and the game kept on going. The dares became increasingly daring, you found yourselves caught up in the exhilarating energy of the game, revelling in the thrill of pushing each other outside of our comfort zones.

Natty spun the bottle with a flick of her wrist, the anticipation building as it whirled around before coming to a stop and finally it was finally your turn to take up on the challenge.

A playful smirk danced across Natty's lips as she posed the inevitable question, "Truth or dare?"

“Truth.” You said.

Imelda scoffed and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise at your choice, “I thought the girl who fought goblins and dark wizards to save Hogwarts would be more daring.”

Imelda's playful taunt elicited a round of chuckles from the rest of the group, but you remained unfazed, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. You knew that sometimes the most revealing truths could be just as daring as any physical challenge.

“Don’t worry, I have a good question for this one.” Natty assured, "What's the deal with you and Sebastian?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question, but you couldn't help but smile at Natty's boldness. The other girls quickly leaned in eagerly, clearly intrigued by the topic.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling a rush of emotions swirling within you. Sebastian had been a constant presence in your life ever since you started your Hogwarts day, his friendship was a source of comfort and strength through both joyous and challenging times. But there’s all to it– friends.

It was not the first time someone threw that question at you. You understood that the close bond you shared with Sebastian might inadvertently lead others to misconstrue your relationship. It wasn't uncommon for people to mistake deep friendships for something more romantic, especially when the connection was as strong as yours and Sebastian's. While you cherished his companionship more than words could express, what you two have was purely platonic.

At least that’s what you like to convince yourself.

Although you’d be lying if you never wondered what it feels like to run your fingers through his brown hair, or how comfortable it would be to rest your head on his chest, or.. how soft his lips might feel against yours. You couldn't deny the allure of such fantasies, the temptation to explore the unknown and experience the intimacy that might lie beyond the boundaries of friendship. But as quickly as the thought had surfaced, you pushed it aside, unwilling to entertain notions that could potentially complicate your relationship with Sebastian.

So in conclusion, do you like Sebastian? Yes.

Will you admit it, even to yourself? No.

But still, you were determined to cherish the friendship you shared with him for all that it was– a source of comfort, support, and hearty companionship. This wasn’t something you’d be willing to risk losing.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you guys, but there’s nothing going on between us.” you lifted your mug to have a sip of your butterbeer as you replied.

“And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you– you’re clearly lying.”

You chuckled at Natty's persistent teasing, her playful banter a familiar soundtrack to your conversations about Sebastian. Despite your repeated assurances, your friends seemed determined to challenge the authenticity of your claims.

With a good-natured shrug, you replied, "Believe what you want, guys, but I assure you, there's nothing romantic."

“Really?” Imelda chimed in, “You’re saying, all of those late night ‘studies’ you often share, those ‘adventures’– for two years, neither of you ever had any momentary lapse?” She pressed on as she made some air quote gestures with her fingers.

Sure, there were stolen glances, and perhaps touches. Not anything raunchy, but like when Sebastian wordlessly reached out and took your hand in his during your walk home from Hogsmeade on a chilly night to keep you comfortable.

Or other moments when Sebastian would act sweet and protective towards you, but you figure it’s all a natural thing. Like how he would come between you and the oncoming attack, shielding you from harm with his own body during your battles with dark wizards. It was merely a fleeting instance of a friend's deep-seated desire to ensure the safety of their companion, just like how you took the Cruciatus curse for him in the scriptorium.

But then again, nothing ever goes beyond any of that. No confessions nor pursuits of something romantic were ever explicitly made. Those moments always dissolved into other lingering echoes of unspoken words.

“Hey, Natty asked the question and I answered.” you stayed persistent with your statement “There is truly nothing.”

“Don’t you wish there was something, though?” Poppy innocently remarked.

Well, isn’t Poppy Sweeting just fucking delightful when she’s drunk, asking all the right fucking questions.

You hesitated, eyes shifted around your friends who were staring at you, anticipating the answer. You couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. They knew you well enough to sense what you were possibly feeling, but as friends who are supposed to be annoying to each other, they just want to hear it coming out of your mouth. The confession– the admittance of your long profound feeling towards the Slytherin boy whose longest relationship was with detention.

Taking a deep breath, you met their gaze with a forced smile, “No, Poppy. Sebastian and I have always been close, but–” You replied as you were trying to choose your next words carefully. "I know you guys want this to be something so bad but I value our friendship too much to risk anything.”

It was a half-truth, a carefully crafted response designed to conceal the true depth of your feelings. The other three shot you a look of disappointment because yet again another lie came out of your mouth.

"Anyway, why is it always about me and Sebastian?" Your frustration bubbled to the surface as you interjected, unable to bear the spotlight focused solely on your relationship with Sebastian. "What about Poppy and Ominis? Aren't they just as obvious as whatever you think is going on with me?”

With a determined edge to your voice, you redirected the conversation, shining a light on the dynamics between Poppy and Ominis. After all, they too shared a close bond that was evident to anyone paying attention. Poppy's cheeks flushed slightly as the attention turned to her.

“Hey, don’t try to change the subject, alright?” she was refusing to have their own relationship coming under the same scrutiny.

There was a momentary silence as Imelda and Natty exchanged glances, like a sudden moment of realisation dawning upon them that they also don’t know much about what’s going on with Poppy.

“So..” Natty carefully started, “Have you guys kissed yet?”

“Stop it.” Poppy insisted.

Imelda chimed in, her tone light but her question holding a curious edge. "You know what I always ponder about?" she mused, her eyes flicking between her friends. "If he's blind, do you reckon he'd still know where.. everything is?" Her hand swept in a casual arc, encompassing Poppy's figure in a playful gesture.

“Imelda Reyes!” Poppy’s eyes widened in disbelief at her friend's vulgar question. You and Natty could only let out a satisfied laugh at the remark. Imelda shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin playing on her lips as she revelled in the reaction she had elicited. It was moments like these that reminded you all of the genuine bond you shared, forged through laughter, support, and the occasional inappropriate joke.

The banter continued unabated, with Imelda persistently needling the annoyed Poppy, her playful jabs met with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement. Meanwhile, Natty, ever the peacemaker, interjected with lighthearted comments and gentle nudges to steer the conversation away from the edge of tension.

As you watched the amusing interactions among your friends, you realised that your glass was running empty. So you took a final chug at the remaining butterbeer and excused yourself from the lively conversation. You made your way to the bar, eager to replenish your beverage.

At the bar, you signalled Sirona for another round, patiently waiting as she bustled about, attending to the needs of other patrons. Leaning casually against the polished wood, you watched as she deftly mixed drinks and served customers.

In the midst of your wait, a man sidled up beside you. You took a glance at him and realised it was a Ravenclaw student, Andrew Larson. A charming grin played on his lips and you returned his smile. He raised his hand to catch Sirona's attention, signalling his order with a casual wave. With a quick nod and a warm smile, she acknowledged him before returning to her tasks. As Andrew turned back to you, his gaze lingering a moment longer.

“Hi." he greeted, "Haven't had the pleasure of seeing you around here lately.”

You returned his greeting with a warm smile. “Well, it’s our final year, with the N.E.W.T coming up–” She sighed, “You’re a Ravenclaw, you know the rest.” As a resident of the house that embraces learning, she figured he would be able to relate the most.

Andrew's charming grin widened at your response, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Well, I'm glad you’re here now." he said, his voice smooth and easygoing. "This place is always more enjoyable with good company."

Did he just.. flirt with you?

The hottie of Ravenclaw– the tall, broad shoulder, blonde, Andrew Larson was flirting with you? It was flattering, surely, but your heart wasn’t exactly there.

“Can I get you–” As he was about to offer you a drink, Sirona came with your fully filled mug of butterbeer. Andrew halted his sentence, a bit embarrassed, but made quite the quick comeback “something else from the bar? Snack, maybe? Or more drinks?”

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as you noticed Andrew's flustered reaction to the unexpected arrival of your butterbeer. It was clear that he had been planning to offer to buy you a drink, only to be thwarted by Sirona's timely arrival.

"Actually, I think I'm all set for now," you replied with a grateful smile, gesturing to the mug of butterbeer in front of you. "But thank you for the offer."

“Are you sure?” He persisted.

“Yes, Andrew.” You gave him your warmest and sincere smile.

Andrew nodded understandingly, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks as he recovered quickly from the momentary embarrassment. "Well, if you change your mind–”

“I don’t think she will, mate.” Before Andrew could finish his sentence, Sebastian's voice cut through the air, his presence suddenly dominating the scene. He leaned casually against the bar, his arm resting just behind your back. It almost felt like he was about to embrace you, his proximity drawing you in.

With Sebastian's taller frame towering over you, it felt like your face was almost nestled somewhere around the crook of his neck. Amidst the chatter of the tavern and the scent of butterbeer, you couldn't help but catch a whiff of his cologne—a captivating blend of fresh, woody, and spicy notes that seemed to envelop you in its seductive aura.

“Excuse me?” The sweet and soft look on Andrew’s face was replaced by a subtle hint of defensiveness.

“She doesn’t want anything from you, so.. run along, Larson.”

Caught between the two men, you felt a surge of unease wash over you, unsure of how to diffuse the tension that hung thick in the air. Andrew didn’t even bother to argue with Sebastian, he just excused himself and the two of you were left alone.

Your hand instinctively reached out to smack Sebastian's chest, the action fueled by a mixture of frustration and confusion. "What the fuck was that?" you demanded, your voice low but laced with an undercurrent of anger.

Sebastian flinched slightly at the unexpected gesture, his expression shifting from defensiveness to contrition. "I was just trying to protect you from that undoubtedly sleazy guy who's trying to worm his way into your clothes. You're welcome."

"What?" you exclaimed, caught off guard by Sebastian's blunt statement.

"It's Andrew Larson," Sebastian clarified.

Your face twisted into a puzzled expression as Sebastian stated the obvious, and you replied sarcastically, "Oh, pardon me, I thought it was Ominis."

Sebastian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You know how he is."

Sure, whispers were circulating about Andrew, portraying him as a womaniser whose primary goal was to seduce as many girls as he could. But you weren't some naive ingénue who could easily be swayed by sweet words and charm. Despite feeling flattered by Andrew's attention earlier, you were offended by the implication from Sebastian, of all people, that you were incapable of protecting yourself. After all the battles you've faced and triumphed over, you knew you were more than capable of handling any advances or situations that came your way.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in response, a mixture of annoyance and amusement bubbling within you. It was typical of Sebastian to jump to conclusions and assume the worst about others, especially when it came to your interactions with guys.

"Yeah, I know," you replied, your tone tinged with sarcasm. "Because Andrew is clearly the biggest threat to my virtue in this entire tavern."

“Merlin, did your butterbeer contain five percent alcohol and ninety-five percent sarcasm?” Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh as his frustration was evident in the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm just looking out for you, okay?" he muttered, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

You softened slightly at his words, "I’m sorry," you said while offering him a small smile of reassurance. "But, maybe I wanted to be swayed and flirted with by some cute guy tonight.” Those last statements came out a bit soft but Sebastian could still hear it.

Sebastian chuckled softly at your admission, his eyes softening with amusement as he took in your slightly flushed cheeks and the playful glint in your eyes. "Wow, you're really drunk, aren't you?" he teased gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You grinned sheepishly in response, nodding slightly. "A little bit, yeah," you admitted, feeling a surge of warmth spreading through you at his lighthearted response.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you caught Sebastian's intense gaze locked onto yours. There was something magnetic about the way his eyes bore into yours, drawing you in with an almost hypnotic allure.

His appearance only added to the intensity of the moment. His hair was tousled in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome, his shirt untucked and his tie slightly loosened, giving him a casual yet undeniably appealing air. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing the veins in his arms, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of attraction deep in your chest.

Merlin's sake, he looked so hot.

For a moment, you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze, captivated by the raw energy that seemed to radiate from him. It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

"So, you girls having fun?" Sebastian asked with a casual tonel as he attempted to steer the conversation back to lighter topics.

You nodded, grateful for the change in subject. "Uh, yeah, we're just playing truth or dare," you replied, gesturing towards the table where your friends were gathered.

Sebastian's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh, is that why Poppy randomly started dancing then?" he asked, a hint of amusement colouring his voice.

“Yeah, something like that," You chuckled. “Anyway I think I should go back before Imelda starts screaming at me.”

Sebastian nodded in understanding, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, probably a good idea," he agreed. "I'll see you around?"

You returned his smile with a nod, feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over you. "Definitely." you replied with genuine affection.

It sounded like an assurance– like a promise that you will always be around.

As you rejoined the lively group at the table, the warmth of Sebastian's presence lingered in the back of your mind. Immediately, you were greeted by a chorus of playful cheers and teasing remarks from your friends. Imelda, in particular, couldn't resist the opportunity to poke fun at your brief absence, teasing and winking suggestively in Sebastian’s direction.

You knew this would just add more fuel to the fire of assumptions your friends are already burning. Your cheeks flushed at the teasing, but you couldn't help but laugh along with them. Throughout the night, amidst the laughter and banter, you couldn't help but steal glances at Sebastian, who was seated across the room. His presence seemed to draw you in like a magnet, and no matter how hard you tried to focus on the conversation at hand, your gaze would inevitably wander back to him.

It’s getting late, and your group is getting aggressively more drunk. Everyone was so out of place, Imelda, with her usual flair for the dramatic, had climbed onto a nearby chair, belting out a tune that she had seemingly composed on the spot. Her voice echoed through the tavern, a mix of off-key notes and drunken enthusiasm that drew both cheers and laughter from the patrons.

Natty, meanwhile, had succumbed to the effects of the alcohol, her head resting on the table as she dozed off into a peaceful slumber. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your friend, her normally lively demeanour replaced by the serene expression of someone lost in dreams.

And Poppy– oh dear, sweet, Poppy, was sitting on Ominis’ lap with her tongue down his throat. you caught Sebastian's eye, and you couldn't help but give him a sympathetic look. But to your surprise, he simply shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. It seemed that even he couldn't resist feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of his best friend finding some unexpected romance amidst the chaos of the night.

With a chuckle, you shook your head in amusement, realising that despite the drunken antics and the questionable decisions, nights like these were what memories were made of.

Despite your best efforts to keep up, you found yourself feeling increasingly out of sync with the chaotic energy of the group. The alcohol seemed to weigh heavily on your senses, dulling your reactions and leaving you feeling disconnected from the revelry around you.

You noticed Sirona, the bartender, casting concerned glances in your direction. Her furrowed brow and subtle gestures of worry did not go unnoticed amidst the chaos of the tavern.

Finally, she approached your table, her expression a mix of concern and gentle determination. "I hate to interrupt the fun, but perhaps it's time for you all to call it a night." she said softly, her voice carrying a note of genuine care.

With a sigh of resignation, you understood that it was up to you to take charge and ensure your friends made it home safely. Despite Poppy's protests, you gently coaxed her away from Ominis' embrace, linking arms with her as you led the group out of the tavern.

As you walked, Poppy violently let go of your arm and ran to stroll by Ominis’ side, their laughter and whispered conversations filling the night air. Imelda and Natty stumbled along behind them, their steps unsteady but their spirits high as they chatted and laughed amongst themselves.

Bringing up the rear, you found yourself walking alongside Sebastian, the two of you trailing behind the rest of the group. You were stumbling a little bit so you reached out instinctively to steady yourself, grasping onto Sebastian's arm for support. Your fingers wrapped around his muscled and strong biceps, finding purchase in the solidity of his frame.

"Whoa, easy there," he chuckled, his voice warm and amused as he shifted slightly to support your weight. "Looks like someone's had a bit too much to drink."

You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing, the sound echoing through the quiet streets of Hogsmeade. "Guilty as charged." you admitted, leaning into his solid presence as you regained your balance.

You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected closeness, the warmth of his touch sending more heat to your face. You still have your arms tightly secured around him as you navigate the streets of Hogsmeade together. As you and Sebastian walked, your pace noticeably slower than the others, you watched as your friends gradually disappeared ahead of you. Imelda's infectious laughter echoed down the street, followed by the soft murmur of some other conversations.

“Hey, let’s play truth or dare.” you proposed, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you glanced at Sebastian.

Sebastian chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I don't know if I'm ready to share all of my secrets." he teased.

You chuckled at his remark, the alcohol still coursing through your veins lending a sense of boldness to your suggestion. "Come on, it'll be fun."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Alright, you go first. Truth or dare?”

You paused for a moment, considering your options before finally replying, "Dare."

A mischievous grin spread across Sebastian’s face as he formulated a challenge. "I dare you to.. serenade the next person we pass on this street.”

You scoffed at the challenge, deeming it far too easy to pass up. As an older gentleman, dressed impeccably in a top hat and proper suit, approached, you seized the opportunity. Stepping boldly in front of him, you launched into a spontaneous serenade, belting out a random song from the depths of your imagination.

The man's reaction was one of sheer bewilderment, his eyes widening in disbelief as he continued walking, shooting you a perplexed glance over his shoulder. But you were undeterred by his reaction, pouring your heart and soul into the impromptu performance.

Sebastian couldn't contain his laughter, doubling over with amusement as he watched the scene unfold. With a grin, he pulled you away from the bemused gentleman before things got too out of hand and you got reported for harassment. "Alright, you lunatic," he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "That was not too shabby."

You grinned triumphantly as you kept on walking, feeling a rush of exhilaration at having completed the dare. "Hey, I aim to please." you replied, your voice filled with satisfaction.

As the two of you continued down the street, still chuckling at the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay, your turn." you said to Sebastian.

"Truth." Sebastian replied, his expression curious yet composed.

You hummed thoughtfully, considering your question carefully before finally deciding on one that would test the waters. "Do you think I'm pretty?" you asked, your voice tinged with playfulness.

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected question. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Of course," he replied sincerely, his voice soft yet earnest. "I think you’re beautiful."

You hummed in amusement and couldn't suppress a giggle. "I think you're beautiful, too, Sebastian Sallow." you admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at the confession. As you rested your head on his arm, a comfortable silence settled between you.

He chuckled at the sight of your sly face leaning on his arm and eyes could barely manage to stay open “You’re so drunk.”

“I told you I wanted to be swayed by a cute guy tonight.” you mumbled, your words slurred slightly from the effects of the alcohol.

"I think you've had enough swaying for one night," he teased, his voice warm and affectionate.

You let out a soft giggle in response, the alcohol making everything feel hazy and surreal. "Maybe," you conceded with a playful grin. "But it's your turn. Quick.”

“Fine. Dare me.”

“Alright,” you replied. This time, you took your time considering what dare to give him. You want to make sure that you’re optimising this opportunity. You didn’t know what had gotten into your head aside from the obvious alcohol, but spurred on by a sudden surge of courage, you somehow managed to say, “I dare you to kiss me.”

Sebastian laughed at your request, and thought you were kidding, but it quickly died down and stopped at his feet when he saw your face looking serious “Wait, you’re serious?”

You held his gaze steadily, “Yes.” Despite the sudden rush of nerves coursing through your veins, you stood your ground, determined to see this dare through. “Kiss me.”

His expression shifted from amusement to something more contemplative, like his eyes were searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But your gaze was unwavering as if urging him to finally close the distance you’ve been dreaming to perish.

Sebastian took a step closer and lifted your chin with his finger to get a better view of your lips. As he leaned in closer, you closed your eyes in anticipation of your first kiss with Sebastian, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. When his lips finally met yours, there was a surge of energy coursing through your entire body, sending shivers down your spine.

It was a soft and tender kiss, nothing deep, but it filled with emotion that had been kept away for two years. It was truly a moment that took your breath away. Surrounded by the quiet beauty of the night, you felt a connection between you and Sebastian that transcended words. It was as if the universe had aligned just for this moment, bringing the two of you together in perfect harmony.

He pulled away, and your gazes locked. You could tell his breathing was shallow from the nerves. The look on his eyes was something you’ve never seen before like a mixture of desire, longing, and a hint of vulnerability. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to devour you– to be lost in you with passion.

In that moment, you felt a surge of boldness coursing through you, fueled by the electric connection between you and Sebastian. Without hesitation, you reached out, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips crashing together in a fierce and hungry kiss. It was like a wildfire consuming you both, igniting a passion that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Sebastian wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer until your bodies were pressed tightly together. A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt the heat of his touch. It was as if every nerve in your body was alight with lust, and you couldn't help but respond to the intensity of the moment.

As if spurred on by the sound of your moan, Sebastian deepened the kiss, his lips moving with a hunger that matched your own. You felt his crave coursing through him, a raw and primal energy that left you breathless and wanting more.

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, inviting him to explore the depths of your mouth with his tongue. Sebastian tilted his head so he could gain better access. It was a dance of passion that's been kept away for two years and each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

It was truly magical, and sensual even. You didn’t care about the fact that the two of you were standing in the middle of the road or if someone passed by and stared, because in that moment, it truly felt like you finally owned each other. It made you think of all the sinful things you wanted him to do to you and It was as if a silent understanding passed between you, a shared desire that fueled the intensity of the kiss. Without a word, Sebastian guided you backwards until your back met the sturdy trunk of a tree by the roadside.

As his lips trailed along your jaw, ear, and down to your neck, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the sensation of his touch. Every brush of his lips against your skin sent heat to your loin. When his hand found its way to your breast, cupping and squeezing it with a firm yet gentle touch, you couldn't contain the moan that escaped your lips. Your body truly felt as if it was on fire, craving his touch with an intensity that left you breathless.

Instinctively, you lifted your leg to his side, drawing him closer and inviting him to explore further. The consuming lusts between you was fucking evident.

As Sebastian's hand explored your chest, eliciting waves of pleasure with each touch, you couldn't help but release another soft moan of pleasure “Oh.. Sebastian..”

At the call of his name, it was as if a sudden wake-up call had jolted Sebastian out of the passionate haze. He pulled away abruptly, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes filled with a mix of realisation and apprehension. In that moment, it was as if the weight of what had just transpired between you both crashed down on him like a ton of bricks.

All you could think about was the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the realisation dawning on you that your friendship with Sebastian was officially ruined. The two of you were breathless and exhilarated. Your lips swollen and tingling with the remnants of his touch.

He took a couple of steps back away from you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you screamed in your head. He remained silent, his eyes locked on yours, leaving you to wonder what the fuck was going on? Was he regretting it? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you as you tried to decipher the expression on his face. It was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping in.

“Sebastian..” you whispered.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said as he looked away, “I didn’t mean to..”

“It’s okay..” You replied.

Your words echoed in the silence that followed, and you felt a pang of disappointment wash over you. It was as if reality had come crashing down, shattering the illusion of the moment you had shared together. But then, unable to resist the urge to seek reassurance, you blurted out the question that had been lingering in your mind. "Do you like me?"

Sebastian's expression softened as he looked back at you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that sent a flutter through your chest. “Of course, I do.” He replied rather softly.

“Like a friend?”

A lump formed in Sebastian’s throat, making it hard for him to swallow as nervousness crept over him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation they were about to have. “Well, friends don’t do the things that we just did, do they?”

“Not really.” You replied. The weight of his words sobering you up almost instantly. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the stark reality of the situation between you.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions, each of you grappling with the implications of what had just transpired. You took a deep breath and with a shaky hand, you reached up to straighten your messy shirt and ran your fingers through your dishevelled hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Do you want it to be more than just a friend?" he finally managed to say.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability reflected in them, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “Do you want it to be?”

“I asked you first.” He quickly and assertively interjected, “Do you want it to be something more?”

"Yes," you replied softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart. "Yes, I do."

"Then, how come you never said anything?" he asked, his tone tinged with a mixture of frustration and longing.

“How come you never said anything?”

He felt a pang of guilt at his words, realising that he had been holding back his true feelings for far too long. "How was I supposed to know?" he shot back, your voice tinged with defensiveness.

"Oh, because we've only been hanging out together every day for two years, we shared countless life and death moments, was that not enough?" you added sarcastically, the weight of your unspoken emotions finally surfacing. “Am I.. not enough?”

Sebastian's expression softened at your words, a look of understanding crossing his features. He took a step closer. "You are more than enough," he said softly and his voice was filled with sincerity. "You are everything to me."

“Everyone wonders why we aren’t together,” you echoed softly. “Well, little did they know I also wondered the same thing.” You looked up at Sebastian, meeting his gaze with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. And as you stood there, lost in each other's eyes, you could find everything you’ve ever wanted.

He took another step forward, “I want you.” and another, until he could reach out to caress your cheek, “I’ve always wanted you ever since you kicked my ass in Hecat’s class.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his response, a mixture of relief and joy bubbling up inside you. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and suddenly, everything felt right in the world. His fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. In that moment, all the doubts and fears that had plagued you seemed to fade away.

“I want to love you.. to feel you..” He continued, “Way more than what we just did.” He smiled, but you could tell he was a little bit nervous.

"Well, you made me wait two years," you teased gently, a playful glint in your eye. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

Sebastian's smile widened at your response, a sense of relief washing over him as he realised that you felt the same way. In that moment, you knew that you were both ready to take the next step in your relationship, to explore the depths of your love together with open hearts and open minds.

And as you leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the journey that lay ahead. With Sebastianfinally by your side, you know everything is going to be great.

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 3 months ago

Text

It feels like hope.

Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 5700

Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.

This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.

It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.

English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.

Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”

Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷

(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

It all started on a Sunday.

You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed.

That Sunday you met the new parish priest.

From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised.

You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar.

A need you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.

Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.

You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…

Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.

Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.

A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.

You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite.

His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.

It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.

Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.

Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.

Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.

You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.

You could hear his breathing through the grate.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned”

The following silence weighed like never before.

“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”

And you had confessed.

The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.

The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.

You were a sinner.

A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.

You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.

You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.

Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.

You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.

You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.

Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.

He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.

Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.

There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.

Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.

He was staring at you.

Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.

You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.

You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty.

“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”

You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.

His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.

For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”

Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.

“But I can’t. I can’t.”

You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.

You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.

You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you.

You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.

Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.

You sinked into it.

If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.

But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.

His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.

So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.

You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.

His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”

You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.

“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.

“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.

You’ve never heard him cursing before.

You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty.

You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.

“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”

Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.

He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.

His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.

You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.

You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.

You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself.

We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.

You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures.

You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.

Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away.

He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.

He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.

He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work.

And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.

He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.

At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank.

You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.

Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”

“What?”

“Pray. Right now”

“What prayer?” You asked, confused.

“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.

“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”

He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach.

You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”

You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment.

Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.

“Go on”

“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”

“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.

Something shifted inside him “and your bra”

His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.

You did what he told you.

You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.

Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him.

You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion.

You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.

Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.

It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.

He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.

You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.

He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.

His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.

“Kneel” he said firmly.

You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.

You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins.

His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you.

His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain.

He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.

You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.

Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.

You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.

You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.

You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free.

Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.

Joel was quiet, he let you do it.

He was touch starving, just like you.

You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.

His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.

Joel groaned.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm.

“You are so beautiful” he whispered.

And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.

You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.

“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.

“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.

His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.

You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.

“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.

You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.

Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered

You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”

“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.

You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.

It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.

Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.

Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.

There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”

It was exhilarating.

You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.

An obscene gift, but still.

You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.

You’ve never felt more alive.

Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.

You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.

At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.

A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.

Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.

You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.

“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.

Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.

Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.

He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.”

And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.

You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.

He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.

“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.

“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”

He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed.

It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.

His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Just…me”

He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?”

“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy.

“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me”

“You sure?”

“Yes, yes.” You breathed.

He prodded at your entrance, just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.

The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.

You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act.

You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.

You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you.

It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.

He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.

He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.

He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.

It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.

“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone

“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.

“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”

You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.

Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.

He was all over you, like a sailor through a violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death.

Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.

You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.

It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.

And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.

Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.

“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.

His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.

You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.

If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.

Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.

His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.

“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.

It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.

If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck”

You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.

“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded.

Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.

It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway.

You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.

It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.

And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.

“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”

You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.

“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.

He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.

But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.

Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.

You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.

You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.

He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.

And then you woke up.

Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.

It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.

You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath.

You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.

A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷

#hot priest!joel miller #hot priest!joel #priest!joel miller #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x you #joel miller x you #joel tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #one shot #the last of us hbo #joel miller au

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innorogers · 1 month ago

Text

Heliophilia

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: Why are you always hiding from him?!

Warning: Fluff / Fluff / Very Fluff / Comfort / Very Comfort / Sooth?

Characters: OC, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Natasha Romanoff

Also: This a new series ❤️ It's called: Burning Sun ✨

As far as Steve Rogers had been led to believe, the world adored Captain America—the symbol, the shield, the unwavering ideal. And not just the world—his teammates, the Avengers, and everyone he led—they liked him too. Sure, he was serious, but he was also kind, funny, and always a gentleman. He combined the decisiveness of a commander with the empathy of a brother-in-arms, leading not from arrogance but from an innate understanding of his soldiers’ hearts.

But beneath the weight of the shield and the praise, there was always one person whose gaze seemed to cut through the surface, treating him with an odd distance. It wasn’t disdain, though sometimes it felt close, nor was it indifference. It was something more elusive, more personal—a quiet tension that stirred between them.

Yeah that was the polite Jane Austen version.

In reality…

"What is wrong with her?" Steve exhaled after you’d given a laser-focused, perfect-in-every-way mission report, nodded politely, and walked away. Turning to Natasha, he finally voiced the question that had been nagging him for what felt like a million years: "Am I some kind of monster?"

"Who? Oh, her Captain...?" Natasha replied with your last name after the title, barely glanced up from the game on her phone, one she’d started five minutes after the briefing meeting started. "Why would you say that? Why are you picking on her… ?" Again.

"It’s just…" Steve ran his hand through his hair, a little more frustrated than he cared to admit. "She’s so… polite."

"Last time I checked, that was a good thing."

"And she’s always so… distant. If I’m standing here, she’s in the opposite corner, or hiding behind the curtains." That last part was an exaggeration, of course. You never actually hid from anything, but it felt like a metaphor for the way you always seemed far away from him.

Natasha didn’t blink. "I’ll tell her to sit on your lap next time."

"I’m nice." Steve said, walking by her side, nodding and smiling at everyone who greeted him with a courteous "Captain."

"Yup, you are."

"And respectful."

"No one like you, Cap."

"So why is she so strange to me?" Steve couldn’t understand. You’d been working together for almost two years, and still, your answers to him were: "Yes, Sir." "No, Sir." "Yes, Captain." "No, Captain."

Sometimes he ran into you in the halls or elevators. He tried making small talk—"Had a fun weekend?" "Yes, Captain." "Nice weather." "It is, Captain." But he quickly realized it was better to smile and endure the awkward silence.

You never looked him in the eye. You always looked at the floor. Sure, the Carrera marble on Level 2 was impressive, but it wasn’t that fascinating.

"So, is this a ME problem?" Steve resigned. He constantly reflected on himself, but this time, he couldn’t figure it out.

Of course it’s a YOU problem, Natasha thought, rolling her eyes. She had lost that level of her game anyway, so she pocketed her phone and shook her head.

"Look, she’s just a tough player, alright? She likes to keep people at a distance. You can’t blame her for not being a social butterfly. And she’s like that with everyone."

"No, she’s not. She’s relaxed around Clint, Vision, and Bruce," Steve argued, he knows that because you typically confined your hair in a sleek ponytail, but when you are at ease, you start arranging it by letting it cascade, and he seems you do that sometimes when you talk with these folks. Those lucky bastards.

"She has casual conversations with Tony, talks about pilates with Maria, and she’s practically friends with Sam."

"Everyone’s friends with Sam," Natasha gave him a 'duh' look. Then, resigned, she said, "Look, just talk to her."

"Talk to her?"

"Yeah, like normal people do." Natasha gestured between the two of them. "Tell her how you feel about the way she acts and maybe that you’d like to… be closer."

"I…" Steve wanted to say he tried so many times, but then he asked himself: why his immediate response wasn’t ‘I don’t wanna be closer I wanna know what’s going on’? Maybe it is because being closer is what he really wants.

"And maybe then you’d know why…" Natasha added, shaking her head. Everyone knows why, Rogers. The girl had been in love with you since day one.

“And Steve…” Black Widow opened her mouth but then decided to shut up. She glared at him and just said it in her mind: maybe you don’t want to smile like that when you are thinking about her? It’s a little creepy.

But she just smiled: “Talk to her tomorrow, you know, in a casual…encounter? So it doesn't sound like you are giving professional feedback about her behavior.” She waves her head in a suggestion: “You know, tomorrow's Family Day, I think it's a great chance to chat…”

“Hmm…” Steve nodded, hesitant. Good idea.

Miss Heleana Christensen from the Data Department was a girl everyone loved.

Silky skin, a petite figure, wavy brown hair, and dimples that appeared when she smiled. She wore large, round glasses that constantly slid down her nose, which she’d push back up with a finger now and then. When she was deep in thought, her lips would purse tightly, making the dimples on her cheeks flicker in and out of view—she was that kind of girl-next-door everyone adored, not just for her looks but because she was so damn cute.

Her job wasn’t fun—in fact, data analysis? Thank god there were professionals handling those never-ending Excel sheets and querying big data in the infinite Stark Industries database.

But she worked hard, striving to perfect every task, because she wanted the ‘mightiest heroes, the best team in the universe’ (her words) to receive only the most accurate and flawless reports. She put all her effort into making sure everything was right.

She actually believed she was saving lives, not excels.

Who wouldn’t like such a hardworking sweetheart?

So when Helaena asked Captain America if he wanted a coffee at Stark Industries’ Easter Charity Event, aka Family Day, with her sparkling eyes and cute dimples peeking from her smile, even Steve Rogers—who was always careful not to give any colleagues the wrong idea—found it hard to say no.

Family Day was held the Saturday before Easter every year. On that day, employees brought their families to the outdoors (the massive private Stark Industries compound) for games, picnics, barbecues, and maybe a picture with the Avengers for their kids to show off at school.

It was a huge thing, and almost everyone attended. Though family members were encouraged to come, most attendees were single, turning the event into something of a casual dating scene.

“I would be honored.” Steve smiled, accepting her offer, and of course, he wasn’t about to let her pay for the coffee. Ever the gentleman, he bought the coffee and cake himself, but when he went to pick them up, he noticed you behind the counter.

Fuck, you didn’t have the chance to hide.

“Hey.” Steve smiled at you. A little surprised. He actually was looking for you everywhere.

“Captain.” You glanced at him once before quickly lowering your eyes, instinctively taking a small step back. Ugh…look at you: white t-shirt, jeans, and a ridiculous pink apron with a coffee stain you poured on yourself two minutes ago. You really wished you were wearing your blood-stained, sand-covered badass gear instead, but no, you had to be like a first day in work barista.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, glancing up at the booth sign. “I thought this was the data team’s booth?”

The charity event was set up like a kermesse, with each department having its own booth, and all the proceeds going to Stark’s foundation. As if that would add any zeros to its wealth.

“Um… I’m just helping out a friend,” you replied softly, forcing the least awkward smile you could. “What can I get’ya?”

“Oh, um… two cappuccinos. And… I don’t know…cake?” He blinked a few times as he scanned the menu.

“The apple pie just came out hot.” You brushed a strand of hair covering your face, feeling yourself blush. “And I think it’s low-calorie?” You say that, but what the fuck would you know? You rolled your eyes at yourself in silence.

“Sounds great.” Steve smiled warmly. “I’ll take two, thanks for the calories heads up.”

He handed over the cash, but in an awkward moment, you missed grabbing it. The bill slipped onto the counter, and as you both reached down to pick it up, the moment your fingers brushed his skin, you recoiled like you’d touched a live wire.

“I am so sorry.” That was dumb as fuck. And you called yourself an elite soldier with these reflexes? God help this planet because you surely couldn’t.

“No, my bad.” Steve chuckled, shaking his head, and wondered—why are you acting like this, AGAIN? Was he really that intimidating?

Just as you turned to get his change, a voice called out from behind the booth, “Yo, I’m back! Thanks for covering.” Your coworker returned with a big smile. “Hey, Cap! What can I get ya?”

“Hey, George. Got everything I needed already, thanks.” Steve greeted him with a smile and handed over the order. You were already stepping away, untying that ridiculous stupid stupid! apron.

Steve wanted to say something, but then a voice called from behind.

“Cap!” Sam appeared, clapping Steve on the back. When he spotted you, his grin widened graciously. “Oh man, did you finally make a move? Did you ask her out?”

That made you freeze. Your hands paused, still hanging up that pink thing. You held your breath, not daring to look back. Or to breathe. Damn it, Sam.

Steve exhaled in exasperation at Sam’s not-so-subtle comment. “I gotta go.” He muttered, giving Sam a warning glare. “Knock it off.”

“Oh shit.” Sam whispered, watching Steve hand the coffee to Helaena as they walked off together. Clicking his tongue, Sam shook his head. “That was awkward.”

Then when noticed you trying to walk away unnoticed, he approached with a sigh.

“You know…” Sam leaned in a little with a knowing smirk, “You should tell him something if you want anything to happen.” He tilted his head toward Steve, who had walked off with Haelena but still glanced back at you once more.

“I’m not…” You rubbed your forehead. “Is it that obvious?”

“I mean, no… not to everyone. But I’m The Falcon, ya know? Top-tier observation skills. So yeah, I noticed.” He grinned brightly.

“And so have Natasha, Tony, Wanda, Vision, Bruce, Maria, Clint, the Parker kid, Thor, the cleaning lady, your crew, my crew, even the bald guy with only one eye… you get the idea.”

“Great.” You were mortified. Maybe asking for a mission to Saudi Arabia tomorrow would be a great idea so you can get the hell outta here.

“Well, since we’re on the subject,” Sam added casually, “I think he knows, too.”

“What?” Nope, Saudi is not gonna do. Asgard now, sounds quite far enough.

“And I think he likes you, too.” Sam continued. “So maybe stop acting like a teenage girl, and be the badass sniper you are? Ask him out for a drink or something, I’ll bet first rounds he’d say yes.”

“I…” You didn’t know what to say. “I… I’m not…”

And your gaze wandered back to Steve, who was walking with Helaena, his smile as gentle and radiant as ever.

That smile.

It was like sunshine cutting through clouds, golden rain filtering through the mist at dawn. Warmth that chased away the darkness, scattering any lingering shadows.

You sighed, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m not…that.” you finally said, looking at Haelena.

Look at her: she’s cuteness in person. The kind of girl who could open her heart and arms, ask for hugs and kisses with a bright smile, make people feel lucky to have met her, bringing sunshine, and stirring feelings of tenderness or protection.

You lacked many virtues, but self-awareness wasn’t one of them. You knew exactly what you were: ashes of war, bullets cracking in helmets, blood and sweat, sleepless nights, anxiety, stubbornness, and severe insomnia.

“Exactly.” Sam smiled at you, his tone encouraging. “You’re just the most badass woman I’ve met…”

He paused.

“...after Nat, Wanda, Pepper, Maria… but you know…”

“Nope.” You laughed softly, voice barely a whisper. “I don’t think I am.” At all.

So Family Day hadn’t gone as expected. Steve had done plenty of talking, just not with you.

He hadn’t seen where you’d been all day, so his last chance was on the bus taking everyone back to the facility. He noticed you slipping into the last row. As the door closed behind him, the bus started moving, and he caught glimpses of you in the front-row mirrors.

You sat alone at the back, no one nearby. Should he move closer? This might be his chance—maybe his last one—before you returned to your usual role as the distant, official soldier, always holding up an invisible shield against him.

Steve sighed, watching you. The sunset cast a glow on your silhouette, drawing a golden line in your contour, you looked like an ancient Greek statue, frozen in time and in eternal beauty, taking his breath away.

Then, without warning, you stood up, and Steve frowned.

What's wrong?

The attack hit before he could even turn around.

A missile struck from the right side of the bridge, blowing half of it apart. Fortunately, the traffic was sparse, but the explosion left a massive hole, and several cars couldn’t stop in time, plunging into the gap.

The air filled with the acrid scent of burning debris as the bus windows shattered. The bus collided with other vehicles that had braked suddenly, crashing several times before finally stopping. Instinctively, Steve threw out his arm, shielding those around him from the impact.

"Is everyone alright?" He called out, standing up and scanning the bus. His eyes anxiously searched for you among the dazed passengers. Natasha and Sam had already jumped out of the broken windows, moving into action.

"Open the door!" Maria, blood trickling down her forehead, kicked open the rear exit, supporting a nearby passenger. "Everyone out!" she urged.

"Three V65 drones." You muttered, pressing your hand to a cut near your eye as you struggled to your feet. The ringing in your ears from the explosion made it hard to focus.

"Northwest direction... G9 missile. Fires every minute and a half, maybe two." You reported aloud while helping Maria guide people off the bus.

"Evacuate everyone," Steve sighed in relief after finally seeing you. "Everyone." He repeated, his eyes locked on you.

But, of course, you didn’t consider yourself as "everyone." You were already off the bus before he could called you out. After helping Maria get the rest of the passengers out, you returned to the back, retrieved the gear, and took cover behind an overturned car.

“I’m a minute away,” Tony’s voice buzzed through your comms, accompanied by the hum of his suit. “I’m with Sam in the air. We’ll get the people near the river out first.”

“Make it quick!” Maria ordered, firing behind the defense line Steve had set up amidst the chaos. “Who the hell are these guys?” A second missile whooshed through the air just as she finished.

Iron Man deflected it with a repulsor blast, but much of the enemy fire began targeting him in midair. He barely managed to destroy the missile that posed the biggest threat before getting hit by another shot, almost knocking him out of the sky.

The missile struck the riverbed, shattering the bridge’s support. The ground beneath you began to tilt as cars slid down into the chaos, dust and debris swirling around. But the enemy fire didn’t stop.

"Sam, break through their front line!" Steve commanded, dodging falling cars as he raced up the slanted bridge, pulling Maria with him.

“Watch out with the cars rain!” Natasha called out with a hint of amusement, also making her way upward, dodging vehicles sliding into the water. "Feels like Washington all over again."

“Washington wasn’t that fun, we weren’t even there…” Tony quipped from above, just before stopping mid-sentence. "Cap, behind you...!"

Steve spun around, but he was too late. Two gunshots echoed, and a figure appeared in front of him, taking the hits meant for him.

You hit the ground hard but got up quickly, clutching your wounded shoulder, your fingers digging into the wound to staunch the bleeding.

Before Steve could react, you had already raised your gun, aiming past him. He hesitated, stunned, but two more shots rang out, passing a hair's breadth from his skin, followed by the grunts of fallen enemies behind him.

He couldn’t even process, and you were an all blur of motion, storming past him like a whirlwind.

You kneed the first attacker in the jaw, grabbed the second by the elbow, twisted his arm until you heard a ‘crack’, and used his own knife to dispatch him quickly. Then turned his weapon on the third, shot him down before he could even trigger the damn thing.

"Damn!" Sam muttered, watching in awe as you moved swiftly, fiercely.

Two bullets weren’t enough to slow you down. Pain was good. It kept you sharp, focused.

You surged forward like an arrow, calculating distances, the wind, mapping enemies at your sight.

You were pissed.

No, pissed was not even close to describing it.

You were furious.

The thought of anyone attacking him like that, of him being hurt, filled you with a fire that made you faster, deadlier.

This was the kind of soldier you were—driven by adrenaline, pain sharpening your senses, your fury igniting your determination, making you more dangerous with every wound. And that anger... oh that was just the cherry on top.

"Enemies at my 12." You reported, spotting the last of them. But before you could act, the ground beneath you cracked, and you slid down as the bridge crumbled.

Massive chunks of concrete tumbled into the water below, the steel and iron reinforcements snapping like fragile threads. You fell along with the debris.

“Get her!” Steve’s voice broke, filled with panic. "Now, Sam!!"

"On it!" Falcon swooped down, grabbing you just in time, lifting you across the collapsing bridge. As soon as you landed, you were already moving, sprinting ahead.

"Where are you going?" Sam shouted.

"The sniper’s that way!" You yelled back, leaping over overturned cars. "VG5 ammo—they’re likely still in the same spot. South of where I was."

You were fast, crouching down, and aiming. "Wind at 30 km/h, bullet speed at 400 km/h..."

"Distance: 200 meters..." You steadied your breathing, focusing. "This shouldn’t be a problem.." you muttered, despite the pain throbbing in your shoulder. Your left arm was nearly useless, but you gritted your teeth and kept your eye on the target.

You just needed to focus.

You’ve done this shit a hundred times and in worse conditions.

So, focus.

Two shots, and one of the snipers fell. The others scattered, but your bullets found them quickly.

"Wow..." Sam whistled in disbelief. "Girl…I didn’t mean this when I said ‘go back into badass mode’."

He reached to pat your shoulder, then noticed the blood soaking through your uniform. "Shit, you’re hit."

"You're hurt," Steve arrived seconds later. "Let me see—how bad is it?" His voice cracked with concern. “What were you thinking?! I could’ve blocked those shots with my shield…Why..." The thought of what could’ve gone wrong—the bullet straying, Sam not reaching you in time—tightened a knot of fear in his chest.

Before he could inspect your wound, you collapsed from blood loss.

Steve caught you just in time, lifting you gently as a groan escaped your lips.

"Nice catch, Cap," Sam quipped, still finding time to joke.

"Shut up!" Steve snapped, uncharacteristically irritated, as he cradled you in his arms. The scent of blood filled his senses as he looked down at your pale face. You hadn’t completely passed out, but you were clearly in pain, biting your lip to stay silent.

As he carried you, you curled away from him, avoiding contact.

Damn, why are you doing this again? Steve almost grunted in frustration, but then he saw your pale face and his heart just clenched.

"You’re making this hard for me." Steve sigh as giving up, he spoke as softly as he could.

"Here, let’s..." He gently moved your arm around his neck, tucking it in place. "There, better?"

"I... I don’t want to stain your clothes with blood," you muttered weakly.

Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stared at you, trying to not lose his temper in your stubbornness, frowning slightly. "You saved my life. And you’re hurt."

Quickening his pace toward the medics, he added. "You could burn all my clothes and I wouldn’t give a damn."

Of course nothing happened between the two of you after that attack, Steve was too busy getting his hands on whoever the fuck that was behind the attack, he was outraged.

Well, not only him, the whole Level 1 and above were in the same state, like…who the fuck would dare to attack the Avengers so publicly? They felt invaded and insulted, even if the whole enemy team was captured or eliminated, that didn’t take away the fact that everyone went through danger. On family day!

Steve was pissed. Not only because all the investigation took 90% of his time, but also because he didn’t even get the chance to see you while you were lying in the hospital. All that stuff he was planning to tell you in a private and emotional state? Didn’t happen, at all.

“What do you mean she’s been discharged?” Steve demanded, after reviewing your health report on the tablet. He set it down sharply on the desk and looked at Maria, his tone serious. “It’s been three days. She took two shots to the shoulder. How could she be discharged so soon?”

Commander Hill received the “I told you to go easy on this topic” look from Sam, and scowled to Steve: “I…don’t make the rules? She is level 1, Cap, I don’t think she received the same treatment as in a regular hospital…I bet this is where Stark’s healing magic tech kicks in.”

“Shit.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Alright... fine. Do we know where she is?”

How in the world would I know? Maria thought but offered, “We could track her mobile. It’s probably on 24/7.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Steve didn’t want to do that, to intrude your privacy, but he was worried. He didn’t even know why, or…as whom was he worried, as your supervisor, your team mate, your fellow work pal? Like, you weren’t even that close.

“Yes. Do it. Send her location to my phone.” Grabbing his jacket, he added, “I’ll be back in a few.”

“…” Commander Hill opened her mouth to say something like ‘I gotta more important shit than crashing to your crush’s mobile’, but Steve already left the room, she looked at the completely silenced room full of all the Avengers, and just did a ‘what just happened’ face.

“Five bucks says he doesn’t get the girl today.” Tony broke the silence.

“Yeah, I’m in.” Clint was the first to respond, followed by Nat and Rhodey.

While the others were placing bets on your so-called romance, Steve was already tracking your phone. At first, he thought the GPS was glitching because it was leading him to the MET.

Actually, it was working perfectly (Tony would later smugly confirm that). You were at the Captain America exhibition, which had been relocated from Washington to New York after the Smithsonian became a crater, courtesy of a Helicarrier.

Steve slowed down when he found you in the exhibition hall, his steps halting completely when he saw you.

It was a weekday, during work hours, so the place was nearly empty.

The natural light streamed in from the ceiling, casting large patches of sunlight that quietly illuminated your silhouette as you sat on a long bench, bathed in a soft, glowing light.

Your gaze floated, like a gentle river, to the black-and-white photograph on the wall in front of you.

It was one of the few preserved images of Steve before the serum. Back when he was a slender, delicate young man with refined features, frail and thin.

Steve barely remembered looking like that. These days, all he saw in the mirror was his current self—tall, strong, healthy. Now, standing in front of that photo, he found it almost unfamiliar, though he could still faintly recognize the determination in those unchanged, resolute eyes.

But you—he was looking at you. Your gaze was so tender, your head tilted slightly upward, a faint smile playing at your lips. The soft curve of your mouth radiated quiet contentment, and in your eyes, there was nothing but the reflection of that photograph.

Nothing but him.

That’s when Steve knew.

There was nothing else, in your eyes, but him.

All his nervousness and uncertainty melted away, replaced by a sudden warmth and joy.

Leaning against the wall, Steve realized he had the same look on his face. You were gazing at a photo of him, and he...was gazing at you.

And in his eyes, there was nothing else, but you.

You heard the soft echo of footsteps behind you and turned slightly, freezing in place when your gaze met his.

He was standing in front of you, every inch of his silhouette outlined by the backlight. Just his presence, just being in his shadow, made you feel incredibly safe. For a moment, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. But instinctively, you lowered your gaze, flustered.

You wanted to hide. You felt like a mess—a bandaged shoulder, probably some ash still in your hair, and the faint smell of the hospital clinging to your skin. But he was already sitting beside you.

“I used to get sick a lot back in those days.” Steve said, his eyes on the picture of his younger self. “Whenever the seasons changed, I’d get fevers and runny noses.. Spring was a little better, but the pollen made my asthma unbearable. And summers...” He sighed. “Brooklyn was a nightmare. Hot and humid. My joints ached constantly. Joining the army was probably the worst idea I had, but I was stubborn.”

He laughed softly. “Stubborn as hell. When it comes to what I want, the goals I’ve set... and the people I care about.”

His eyes never left yours, and you could see your own bewilderment reflected in his steady gaze.

“I don’t buy it for a second... that you don’t know.” He said softly, pausing for a moment before you lowered your eyes again.

You wanted to hide, but under his gaze, there was nowhere to escape.

“If you were so afraid... why did you take all those risks for me?” Steve asked, his voice quiet. Why were you so fearless on the battlefield but treated him like something to fear in everyday life?

“I remember everything, you know?” His voice softened, distant as he recalled the past. “All the risks you’ve taken. Sometimes... reckless, bold...”

He shook his head, a mix of frustration and admiration in his voice. “God, I remember our first fight, you broke enemies lines, just to get my shield back…I was desperate, and then you come back with that…impeccable yet stubborn as fuck attitude ‘I’m sorry Sir but I had to do it’ shit, drove me crazy. I didn’t know what to do. You wouldn’t step back, and I knew, even if I suspended you, you’ll just go and do the same stupid and impulssive thing next time.”

You smiled faintly, looking down. Of course, you remembered. You had a scar on your back from that mission. One you wore with pride.

“So why?” Steve whispered, searching your face. “Why would you risk everything... and then hide?”

“What about you?” You asked, finally looking up at him. “On that plane, at the end of the war, why did you stay until the last moment? You could’ve escaped before it crashed into the frozen sea. I’ve seen the reports. You could’ve swam away. Why did you stay until the explosion?”

“I couldn’t,” Steve answered without hesitation. “The stakes were too high. If it didn’t explode in the sea, it would’ve been New York. I couldn’t let that happen, not even a small chance. I’d rather die than…” He stopped, getting your point.

“Right?” You nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “…than having that risk?”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat. Your sincerity, your determination—it made his heart ache.

Goddamn it…Why do you have to be so obstinate, inflexible, reckless…loyal, brave and fierce? He would spend the rest of his life worrying as fuck, fearing for this willingness to sacrifice attitude of yours.

Almost instinctively, he reached out and covered your hand with his. His voice barely above a whisper.

“What are you afraid of?”

Your lips move, you want to pull your hand away from his grasp, but you find yourself without the strength.

Because you wanted him.

As a leaf growing from a seed breaking out from the ground and reaching out to embrace sunlight and warmth. To embrace life.

You want to hold his hand back, feel his palm against yours. You know that feeling him, would be enough to know that all is well in the world, that there’s nothing left to fear. You could exist freely and quietly behind him, fearless.

This wish. So strong yet so powerless, makes you so vulnerable, you could barely exist in his presence.

You hesitated for a long time, trying to put the words together, trying to tell him the truth yet not burden him, and finally, you speak in a low voice.

“If the ending is something you can’t bear... isn’t it better to avoid it?”

Steve stood silent for what felt like an eternity.

“I promise you.”

He brushed a stray lock of hair from your cheek and lifted your chin so your eyes met his.

“There will be no ending.”

You could barely breathe at these words. Yet your heart was beating so strong, so fast, so loud, you felt it was going to explode.

“I'm scared too.” He sees your expressions, your broken soul, your fear of heartbreak and the endless uncertainty to lose something you longed for a lifetime.

“But…” He cupped your face in his hands as if you were something precious, something he had been waiting for his whole life.

“Being with you…it’s worth it, I’d rather have you and risk heartbreak than not have you at all.”

The sunlight bathed you both, it was so bright and dazzling that it brought your eyes with tears.

“And I know I can’t change you,” Steve continued, his voice filled with quiet resignation. “You will continue to be this… badass goddess of war, in the first row of any fight, any battle to come. But I’ll try my best to shield you, from any danger, any suffering, or any pain. I’ll do my best. With all I have.”

“No.”

Your expression shifted, and after a few heartbeats, you slowly smiled up at him.

“There’s no such thing… as suffering, pain, or danger…” You whisper, finally turning your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes seem to shimmer with unshed tears. “Not as long as it is with you. I’ll take it all, I’ll walk on fire and…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, his lips claim yours.

That kiss… wasn’t gentle as you imagined. Instead, it’s forceful, filled with a possessive intensity. Maybe it’s because Steve has been holding back for so long, and now, that surge of determination finally breaks free.

His urgent need to have you, the longing that had kept him restless for so long, felt like a crashing wave, carrying with it all the emotions he had hidden away. Steve’s hand cradled the back of your neck while the other wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

It was like every first kiss in the world, filled with breathless exhilaration and the glorious wonder of a starry night.

His lips claimed yours with an intensity that took you by surprise, yet it felt natural, inevitable, as though this moment had been written in the stars long before either of you existed.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but something in Steve shifted. It was as if he’d made a silent vow in that kiss—one you couldn’t hear but could feel in the way he held you, how he kissed you like the world was ending.

In the quiet of the exhibition hall, surrounded by photographs and memories of his past, none of that mattered to him. Not the image of Captain America, not the accolades, not the expectations.

In that moment, it was just Steve, kissing the woman he loved. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t care who saw. He didn’t care if the whole world was watching.

Every poster, every photo hanging on the walls was of him, of the man everyone else expected him to be. But right now, none of that mattered. He was making a choice, and it wasn’t for show, wasn’t for the sake of his legacy. It was for you, and only you.

The world beyond the walls blurred. There were no battles, no looming responsibilities, no enemies lurking in the shadows. Just the two of you, as though time itself had slowed to witness this one fragile moment.

As your lips parted, both of you breathless, your foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, feeling the shared pulse of your heartbeats.

There was so much you wanted to say, to ask, but the words wouldn’t come. You were there, in wonderstruck, as standing in the middle of a vivid dream.

Steve spoke first, his voice hushed but filled with a resolve you’d rarely heard before.

“I’m not going to let you run away again,” He whispered, his hand still gently cupping your face. “Not from this. Not from us.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze—those same resolute eyes that had stared back at you from that black-and-white photograph, unchanged by time or transformation. You knew then, with the same certainty as his, that there was no running away.

You won’t run. Or hide.

Not anymore.

End, but probably will continue ;)

Oh yeah, I love this fierce yet fragile OC. This is actually the translation of an original piece I wrote back in 2021? Originally in chinese so I'm SO SORRY if it's weird reading it in english cause...well, struggling with the words, hehe. But I loved this piece so much I wanted to share it with you, cause damn, I loved him so much in that part of my life :3 (I do love him still.)

And for my babes that are waiting on Miracle Nr. 12! I'm so sorry not posting about it this week cause I'm still trying to figure out whether continue with the angst plot, or the original angst and dark as f... plot that's leading the story to a very very sad and dark twist. Still has an happy ending, I promise. It will be there on next Friday!

Oh I'm sorry I got carried away writing so much hehe, hope you enjoyed it!!

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

let me know if you want to be added! 🥰

✨ Miracle Nr. 12 ✨ Series:

#captain america x reader #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x reader #captain america x you #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x oc

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cosmicbucky · 1 year ago

Note

A chubby reader who's super self conscious of her belly and bust? Like she's strong and stuff, comes with the higher weight, but just....

Cant really wear anything unless it's sweats and a sweater, or a t-shirt. Almost never goes out.

And one day Bucky comes to the compound. Reader immediately gets a crush, and has major anxiety over it, like "leaving the room when he comes near" anxiety. Bucky thinks it's his fault, that he's done something wrong and talks to you about it.

He decides to talk to you about it, crying ensues because insecurities, and then the fluff.

Sorry this ask is so long, I'm kinda scrambled XP

hi, lovely! 💫

first of all, don't apologize for bringing this beautiful request into my world! i was beyond excited to have the chance to bring this idea to life, and i hope the direction i took with it does justice to what you had in mind!

second of all, i am so sorry this took me so long to put out, this request is so lovely and i really wanted to make it the best i could.

i hope you enjoy!

matches

pairing: bucky barnes x midsize!reader

word count: 3974

warnings: insecurities and self consciousness, mild body image issues, brief self depreciating thoughts, angst, mutual pining, fluff, swearing, allusions to mature themes, let me know if i missed anything!

please do not read this if you're not comfortable with any of the above topics. while they are not heavily focused on, they are the main theme of this fic

a/n: big thanks to @buckylattes for reading this and catching some of the dumb ass mistakes i made lmao

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

Being part of the Rescue and Reconnaissance division of Stark Industries wasn't the most glamorous job, but you loved it. You got to work nearly hand in hand with field agents every day, formulating plans for raids, rescues, infiltrations, or general takedown missions to make sure all those involved worked as safely and efficiently as possible.

You were the one they turned to when a new plan was needed; when they were at risk. There were a few agents who refused to listen to anyone other than you when it came to these times - specifically asking for you to help them through.

Agent Barnes was one of these people, and though you could never voice it, he was your favourite to deal with. He was always kind and courteous, understanding in the fact that despite not being in the same rankings as him, you damn well knew what you were doing. And, well, it didn't hurt that he always found a moment to be a charming little flirt.

You have no idea why he had such faith in you. Maybe it was because you always took what he suggested into consideration when calculating next steps. Maybe it was because your ideas were as crazy as his sometimes. Maybe it was simply because he liked the sound of your voice.

You never knew.

You never actually met him.

All your dealings with field agents were done from the safety of your control room. You never minded it, though. It was nice, in a way. You absolutely loved doing what you do, but you would never be able to handle being around field agents all the time. Not when they look the way they do, and you…. well, you're you.

Your thighs touch when you walk, your belly shakes when you laugh, your arms jiggle when you move. You have to painstakingly pick out the right kinds of shirts, otherwise your chest will make it seem like you're three times as big as you really are.

You were the chubby girl who always hid in the shadows, too afraid to let the world see how bright you truly shine - you were a flame ready to ignite, but no one around you ever offered you a match.

You were used to it. You made peace with it a long time ago, finding solace in your own company instead of relying on other people to enjoy your time with. It still bothered you from time to time, and you let yourself have days where you wallowed in it, wishing things were different, wishing you looked different. Though, for the most part, it stopped bothering you so much the older you got.

Until the day you finally met Bucky.

It was a strange day, being sent to the compound. You've never been sent anywhere before, always planted in your seat while talking to field agents across the world. Yet here you were, being requested by Tony Stark himself.

You must have spent hours trying to find the right outfit. One that showed off your curves without accentuating the extra pudge around your middle. One that complimented your chest without highlighting the size. One that showed off your ass without making it look massive. One that carefully hid your arms. One that you felt comfortable in.

It felt like your heart was in your throat the whole time. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full on frenzy, and you had to take deep breaths every few seconds to stay calm; and to not throw up.

You barely heard it when Tony said he wanted you working under him. You could hardly process it when he said he created a job just for you. You didn't quite understand it when he told you there was space for you at the compound, and he wanted you here full time.

All you could do was dumbly nod your head, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the fact that Bucky Barnes was just outside the conference room.

By the time the meeting was over, you felt lightheaded. You clutched the contract you were given against your chest and took a final deep breath before leaving the room, hoping to get by unnoticed. It's not like he even knew who you really were, right?

A gentle calling of your name told you that you were very, very wrong.

Your feet became rooted in place as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing all you could on calming your nerves before turning around. And jesus christ, nothing could have prepared you for how beautiful this man actually was in person.

"Hi," you breathed out, a tiny shy smile gracing your lips.

"Hi," he said, unintentionally mimicking you.

His eyes travelled over your face before taking their time roaming your body; you shifted uncomfortably and clutched the contract a little tighter as he stayed fixed on you. A smirk graced his lips, but it was gone before you could really focus on it.

"It's, uh-... it's nice to finally meet you, Agent Barnes," you muttered sheepishly, hesitantly offering him your hand.

"You can call me Bucky," he said, smiling warmly as he took your hand in his, sending fire throughout your whole body. "I'd like to say thank you for saving my ass as often as you do, but thank you doesn't seem like enough."

You chuckled, feeling your face flush under his gaze. "'Thank you' suffices just fine, Bucky. I've only been doing my job."

"Speaking of," he started, tilting his head a little as he eyed the contract you held. "You gonna take it?" he asked curiously, his eyes snapping back to yours.

"What?" you asked, caught off guard by his question.

"The job," he said, gesturing between the contract in your hands and the conference room you just occupied. "You gonna say yes?"

"How do you know about that?" you asked curiously.

"I know things," he said passively, shrugging his shoulders. "How 'bout I show you around? You can see the place before you decide anything."

You wanted to say no. You wanted to run away and retreat into yourself once more. Though something about the way he was looking at you made it hard to do so.

So, you agreed.

And that's how everything started.

You took the job, moving into the compound a few days after that. You quickly made friends with the girls, and they became your support group; they would help you when it came to shopping for clothes or finding the right outfit for events. They offered to go for walks with you or do yoga - anything you felt like doing, really. You still felt inferior to them from time to time, but not because they made you feel that way; no one at the compound did.

Only yourself.

When it came to the boys, it was more or less the same thing. You felt comfortable around them, and you never minded close contact or them seeing you in tighter fitting clothes.

Everyone was family, and it never felt awkward or uncomfortable around them.

Except for when it came to Bucky.

You still grew closer to him over the months of you living at the compound so far, but it hasn't been easy. It was a constant challenge, and it grew harder for you day after day.

When it came to you working alongside him on his missions, everything was great. Nothing with him changed, aside from him throwing out a few more flirty comments. And, since you still had the safety net of being behind comms, you threw some right back at him.

Once the missions were over, though, it was hard to be around him. You wanted to be around him, but it was nearly impossible. Your feelings for him grew, and the stronger your feelings were, the more distant you became.

You were careful to only wear sweaters or loose tees paired with sweatpants around him, making sure he would never catch sight of the extra weight you carried around. You quit eating around him; it's not like you had bad eating habits, but you couldn't shake the panic that he would somehow be disgusted, that he would think the reason you're so chubby was because of your diet. You stopped sitting near him during movie nights, and you never hugged him. No matter how much you itched to wrap your arms around him when he came home safe from missions, you couldn't risk him feeling the rolls your body carried, or how soft and pudgy you were.

It was driving Bucky crazy.

From the minute he finally set his eyes on you, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was beyond thrilled when you agreed to Stark's offer, and he couldn't wait to take the opportunity to get to know you - which was a massive step for him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he did something to upset you.

He grew more confused every day. When it came to conversing over the comms during missions, you two were like a well oiled machine; giggles and flirting and jokes of previous missions. No one would ever know something was amiss.

Yet when everyone would return home, it was like a switch was flipped. You greeted everyone with hugs and smiles and affection, and Bucky always waited patiently for his turn: but it never came. Instead, you turned to him with an awkward smile and shining eyes and gave him the traditional "welcome home, soldier" that, despite everything, always pulled a smile from his lips.

He racked his brain every night trying to figure out if he did something, if he said something, but he could never come up with anything. He could never find a reason for the way you would some days leave the room as soon as he entered, for why you always hid away from him when he would catch you off guard in workout clothes or formal attire. He could never come up with an explanation and it was eating him alive.

The final straw came for him on the night of Pepper’s birthday party.

He didn’t want to go, he never wanted to go to these things, but ever since you came around he found himself more willing to at least make an appearance; if only to see you. However, he wasn’t even positive if you were going to show up this time, given the way you’ve been so distant lately - and that made him not want to go at all. So he was biding his time, sitting in the kitchen and emptying a bottle of whiskey, trying to not make it obvious that he was waiting to see if you’d wander out of your room before he slipped away to the party.

You stood in front of your mirror for what felt like hours, never before feeling more diffident as you assessed your reflection. You’ve been to some of Tony’s parties before, but this was for Pepper - it was the most grandiose one you’ve attended to date. You weren’t left much choice but to dress your fanciest, and you felt so unfamiliar with your own body as your hands trailed down the fabric of your dress. It was form fitting, hugging every curve you had and accentuating your figure in a way you weren’t used to seeing. The straps were small and the cut was low, it travelled midcalf and had a small slit up the side, showing way more of your leg than you wanted. You had a burning desire to change, but Nat insisted you looked incredible, and Wanda already applied a touch of makeup to match the dress - not to mention you were already running late as it was.

With one last heavy sigh, you steeled yourself before slipping on your heels and marching out of your room. You thought of anything and everything you could as you marched down the hall, doing your best to pay no mind to the way you felt the fabric clinging to your body with every move you made. God, you really should have put on shapewear.

Bucky heard you before he saw you, your footfalls echoing through the floor in the same pattern he came to memorize in the months you’ve been here. He took a deep breath, prepared for the fact that you would most likely brush him off once more. He was not prepared, though, for the sight of you as you rounded the corner.

You were not prepared to see him sitting there, clad in a pressed suit, or for him to quite literally choke on the drink he was nursing as he took in your presence.

“Jesus, Bucky. Are you alright?” you inquired, conflicted between staying where you stood and approaching him.

A dismissive wave of his hand had you staying in place, your arms wrapping around your middle as you began to feel exposed to him.

“I’m fine, I’m good,” he coughed out, refilling his glass as if nothing happened.

You stood there quietly, completely unsure of what to do next. The silence was becoming louder and louder but you didn’t want to draw his attention to you. Not when you were looking like this. Not when he’d be able to see every curve and divot of your body, the protrusion of your stomach, the ample raise of your chest. You were really starting to regret not changing.

“Are you gonna stand there and stare all night or head to the party?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the glass before him. His tone was playful, but his voice had a rasp to it that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, uh - sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat as you slowly advanced in his direction. “Are, um-… are you gonna join the party?”

He huffed a small laugh, his eyes finally raising to meet yours only to find that you were looking almost everywhere but at him, effectively wiping the small smile from his face.

“I’m not so sure,” he said lowly, downing the contents of his glass as he kept his eyes on you.

You hummed, looking down at your hands before chancing a glance at him; his gaze on you so intense that you immediately looked away again.

“Well, I- I hope to see you there,” you said sincerely, wringing your fingers together. “You look really nice, Buck” you added quietly, looking up at him just long enough to flash him a warm smile before continuing through the kitchen.

“Did I do something wrong?” he called after you, the hurt in his voice impossible to miss.

“What?” you asked in confusion, turning to glance in his direction.

“Did I do something wrong?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Because ever since you moved in here, it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.”

You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that left you, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true.”

“No?” he asked, his tone taking on a new edge. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you can’t even fucking look at me right now. You practically run from me when I enter the same room, you do everything you can to avoid me, and let’s not forget the fact that I’m the only one around here who you don’t hug after getting back from missions.”

“Bucky-” you tried to explain, but the lump forming in your throat stopped you short.

“I just wanna know what I did,” he carried on, voice softer this time. “I don’t know if you’re angry with me or- or if you’re scared of me-”

“I am not scared of you,” you interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. “Please don’t think that.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” he asked quietly. “Everything is fine when I’m out on the field, we- I get along with you better than anyone. But then I come home, and it’s not the same.”

“It’s not-... it’s not like that, Bucky,” you whispered sadly, unintentionally looking away from him again.

“Yeah, if you say so,” he said curtly, sighing in defeat as he filled his glass again. “Just enjoy the party, okay?”

“You’re not coming?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice.

“Well, you’re just gonna avoid me anyway. Might as well make it easier for you and stay here,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the twirling glass in his hands.

“I don’t want you to think like that,” you admitted softly. “I- I don’t mean to do the things I do.”

“Then why do they happen?” he inquired, his eyes meeting yours and displaying a painful mix of hurt and confusion.

“Because,” you started, feeling your bottom lip quiver. “I mean, look at me, Buck,” you finished, as if that was explanation enough.

“Believe me, I’m looking,” he said gently. “And you look-... well, I wanna say you look beautiful, but that implies you don’t always look beautiful, so, I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he added, his voice so low he may as well have been speaking to himself, but you heard every word he muttered.

“...What?” you breathed out, staring over at him.

“What?” he questioned, glancing up to catch your eye.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat but it just kept on growing, forcing you to choke on your words.

“Hey, wait, don’t-... okay, now I really said something wrong, right?” he asked quickly, starting to panic as he watched your eyes fill with tears.

Shaking your head vehemently, you delicately wiped your eyes, hoping not to smudge the work that Wanda did for you. “No, you- I just didn’t expect you to say that. I-... I'm not used to hearing that."

"You're not?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

You almost laughed, and you probably would have if it wasn't such an embarrassing thing to admit. "No. I'm… guys don't really call girls who look like me beautiful."

He fell silent for a minute, eyeing you carefully before shifting in his seat, resting his arms on the table.

"You know, I've been alive for a pretty long time now," he said conversationally, as if you weren't on the cusp of a breakdown. "And I've also been quite literally around the whole world in that time. Some of it I remember, some of it… not so much. But even so, do you know what the one thing I can say with complete certainty is?"

You waited for him to go on for a moment before realizing he was actually looking for an answer. "No, what?" you manage to croak out.

He smiled softly, relaxing in his seat again. "I have, quite literally, never met anyone as beautiful as you. And I mean in both appearance and personality."

"But I- I'm not… I don't have the kind of body like the other women around here," you murmured, casting your gaze downwards as if you were ashamed of your words.

"So?" he asked incredulously. "Do you seriously think that you're automatically not beautiful just because you aren't the same size as them?"

"No, it- you can't- I'm not-" you tried to argue, but all you could get out were a few utterances before you had to choke back a sob, completely lost on how to express yourself.

"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked anxiously, fighting the urge to approach you.

"Yes. I mean no, I-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, taking a moment to consider your answer. "I've been too embarrassed to be around you. I-... I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and that I'd lose you."

"Repulsed by you? A woman who puts fucking goddesses to shame?" he asked in disbelief. "Did me choking on my drink earlier not prove how taken by you I am?"

"Is that what that was?" you wondered, letting out a watery laugh.

"Yeah, that's what that was," he confirmed with a soft chuckle. "A guy does a real life spit take when he sees the girl of his dreams looking like the focus of a goddamn renaissance painting and she doesn't even realize it," he mumbled in exasperation, yet his eyes carried a playful sparkle.

"The girl of your dreams?" you repeated in shock, your voice a nervous whisper.

"Was that too cliché?" he questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Maybe a little," you said playfully, sniffling quietly.

"I know how it feels, you know," he said softly. "To feel uncomfortable in your own body. But if you'd let me, I'll spend every day proving to you that I see you as nothing short of perfect."

You could only nod, giving him a weak smile as you fought back a wave of tears. "Yeah, I-... I could do that, too," you agreed quietly.

He grinned softly, greedily taking in your appearance once more before tearing his eyes away. "Come on," he urged, downing his drink before standing up. "You owe me about seven dances."

"Where does that number come from?" you asked with a laugh, watching as he approached you.

"For how many parties you snubbed me at so far," he replied casually, stopping as he stood before you.

"I never snubbed you," you grumbled, peering up at him.

"Sure you didn't," he teased, carefully wiping the tears from your face.

"Do I still look okay?" you asked nervously, fidgiting slightly under his touch.

"Gorgeous as ever," he replied sincerely.

You couldn't help but grin, laughing a little anxiously. "Okay. Come on, or else we won't have enough time for all those dances."

Bucky laughed happily, taking your hand and rushing to join the party, having you giggling in his wake as you did your best to keep up.

You let him whisk you away for the rest of the night, leading you through all the dances you owed him; and a few more, for good measure, as Bucky put it.

He stayed true to his word, and there wasn't a second that you spent with him where you didn't feel like the most ravishing woman to walk the earth.

Especially when he took his precious time in the dark of the night to memorize and worship every inch of your body over and over again.

So as you sat here now, watching from across the room as he danced with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Foolish for letting your thoughts take away the extra time you could have had with him, foolish for ever thinking this incredible man would ever judge you for something so trivial. Foolish, foolish, foolish.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you heard from beside you, ripping you from your reverie.

You turned your head, grinning as you saw the very man himself had taken up the seat to your left. "What, get tired of dancing already, old man?"

He gasped, feigning offense as he took in your words. "I'd watch who you're calling old, sweetheart," he warned playfully.

"I'd watch who you're calling sweetheart. I happen to be a married woman now, you know," you replied jovially.

"Married, huh? Should've known I didn't stand a chance," he lamented, shaking his head. "How about a pity dance?" he suggested with a grin, holding his hand out to you.

You giggled softly, taking his hand with a grin of your own. "Lead the way, Mr. Barnes."

"Anything for you, Mrs. Barnes," he replied with a wink, leading you to the dance floor.

And just like he did three years ago, he whisked you away and led you through a whole seven dances; and a few more, for good measure.

You were a flame, finally ignited, and Bucky was your match.

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kquil · 2 years ago

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SIRIUS BLACK | 01:27 ⏤HIS FAVOURITE NEIGHBOUR

SUM : because of his ambition for music, sirius drives many of his neighbours to near madness until they eventually move away and then you move in...

G. : modern au ; muggle au ; rising rockstar sirius ; rising rockstar marauders ; neighbours au ; fluff

LENGTH : 0.8k

Sirius has gone through his fair share of neighbours and he can’t blame them; in his pursuit of music with the Marauders, his electric guitar has helped drive them away sooner than their contract ends. He has yet to maintain any pleasant interactions with his neighbours, all of the ones he’s had have been decent at first meeting but that’s usually when he’s greeted to welcome them into their new home, simple pleasantries. It’s a few days into living beside him that complaints start.

It doesn’t bother him too much, seeing as they never stay long enough or were pleasant enough to be around for Sirius to befriend them but it was still a shame.

And once again, the cycle restarts.

“Oh hey,” Sirius greets with his usual boyish grin, devilish and delinquent, “so you’re going to be my new neighbour, huh?”

“Yup,” you smile, setting down some of your final few boxes to outstretch a hand, “I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you…”

Sirius shakes your hand with a smile, “Sirius Black at your service,” he brings your knuckles to his lips and winks playfully as you giggle, “nice to meet you too,” he greets, disguising his internal grimace with some light humour; the thought that you may not be as sweet to him in just a few days from now brings a sour taste to his mouth. It’s a shame, because you’re super cute.

“Sirius…” you try saying his name with a growing smile on your face, “like the star?” Sirius nods with a shrug as you smile, “Cool name,”

“Thanks,” just as you’re about to pick up your boxes again, Sirius breaks the ice, “listen, I just wanted to warn you about something,” he uncharacteristically rubs the back of his neck with a hand, looking troubled as you raise a brow.

“What is it?”

“I’m a guitarist, I play the electric guitar, actually,” you smile, originally cautious but already understanding where he was going, “so I would play often and it gets loud, just some fair warning,”

“I see, thank you for letting me know,” you nod thankfully, smiling and pick up your boxes again.

“I’ll play only at reasonable times, I promise,”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you nod thankfully to him once more and go about moving in your things again, leaving Sirius to flash a bitter smile before making his way into his own home. You’re pleasant now but he’s sure you won’t stay sweet and adorable for long, you wouldn’t be the first…

Weeks pass and not a single complaint.

Sirius was ecstatic. Not a single fucking complaint! You’re a saint, always greeting him with your usual smile whenever you two catch each other and he gushes about you endlessly to the boys.

“She hasn’t complained once!” Sirius sighs with relief and connects his guitar to the amplifier, lowering the volume just slightly; he’s willing to be more courteous since you’re so understanding and pleasant, “what an angel,” he says more to himself than the boys as they share a look between one another.

“This’ll be the first time we’re practicing together though,” James reminds him as they settle behind their instruments, “this will definitely test her understanding,” he chuckles as Sirius bites his lip nervously. You were so perfect, he doesn’t want to see you go now. Not only do you not seem to mind the music but you’ve treated him to home baked goods every saturday too and he doesn’t want it to ever end; your cookies are unbeatable!

“Come on guys…” he starts but is cut off by James practicing his part of the drums, Remus soon joining him on bass with a sympathetic smile and Peter follows with the keyboard.

Muscle memory persuades Sirius to eventually join, playing only a few minutes more before he’s stopping everyone and forcefully lowering the volumes on Remus’s amplifier, on Peter’s keyboard and warning James to ease up on the drums or so help him…

“Alright alright, jeez, I just wanted to make sure this girl was the right one….” he pouts like a scolded child and the group continues to play with considerably lowered volumes. It was so far reduced that they were easily interrupted by a loud banging on the wall you shared with Sirius.

As soon as they stop, they hear you shout through, “TURN THAT SHIT UP! THIS IS MY TYPE’A MUSIC!”

Everyone laughs, Sirius with the most relief, throwing his head back and they all make the proper adjustments.

“Lucky,” Peter sighs with a pout, “I wish my neighbours were like her,”

“Don’t we all?” Remus agrees with a nod.

“Looks like she’s as perfect as you said, Pads,” James teases.

“You should try her cookies,” Sirius winks, “they’re to die for,”

“Lucky bastard,” someone whispers and Sirius just laughs.

PART TWO

A/N : i love rockstar sirius but what was his life like before all the fame? and then this timestamp came to be! i hope you enjoyed the reads, lovelies!

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins ; @astonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @goodoldfashionedluvergirl ; @tiensmamains

NAVI.

#☆ : timestamp #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black fic #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #marauders #marauders fic #rockstar sirius black #sirius black fanfiction

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delirious-donna · 6 months ago

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Tales From The Housekeeper [Extra Drabble]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

an: despite never being seen, the developing relationship between you and Kento has been witnessed up close. Mrs McGarden has been Nanami's cleaner for many years and she knows in her heart what is happening within the walls of the apartment... a little diary that I thought was a fun idea.

warning: none, SFW, fluff and humour

Series Masterlist

𝓜𝓻𝓼 𝓜𝓬𝓖𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷’𝓼 𝓒𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓛𝓸𝓰

𝓒𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮: Nanami Kento

𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼: general tidying, kitchen deep cleaned once a week and trash to be removed, vacuum and mop every other day, windows on a Friday, ad hoc jobs as and when

𝓒𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼: very polite, young professional man, values his privacy, has a younger sister who has been known to visit unexpectedly (she has her own key for the door, keycard for the elevator and the passcodes), sister aside it is unusual for others to be visiting. Enjoys homemade bread and good coffee (reminder to bring by baked goods every now and then – especially banana bread and caramel pecan muffins)

𝓢𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼: steer clear of anything overly floral, prefers subtle scents that evoke a sense of cleanliness, use Tom Ford Ébène Fumé reed diffuser in the master bedroom

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

No incidents to report. Apartment was empty on entry. Kitchen deep cleaned, skirting boards and cupboard doors included. Trash emptied. Took receipt of laundered items – left on master bed as requested. Replaced diffusers in living room and both bathrooms.

𝓣𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

Strange phone call from Miss Nanami, client’s younger sister. I… I don’t know how to feel about it all. Over the years of my employment, I have grown very fond of Mr Nanami and whilst I do not see him most of the times I am here, on the occasions we do cross paths, he is always courteous and easy to converse with. That being said, I am not sure if I wish to be a part of the scheme she has proposed. I will have to think on it this evening, perhaps I will run it past Mr McGarden to see what he thinks of it all…

Oh, before I forget. No other incidents to report. Linens from the beds stripped and remade with new sheets. All floors hoovered or mopped as planned. Plants watered.

𝓦𝓮𝓭𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

I don’t know if my conscious will hold out, but I have decided that I could not ignore the plight of Miss Karin’s friend. What kind of woman would I be if I were not to allow a young woman a safe place to stay? I’ll be honest, Miss Karin was extremely persuasive… she would make an excellent lawyer. All I have to do is act oblivious if asked, which should not be a problem given the upcoming business trip. It might be nice to have a feminine presence in the apartment, and I can remove all trace of her before Mr Nanami returns, of that I am certain.

One broken coffee mug (I expect my clumsiness was a result of my slightly frayed nerves) and I have left a note with the promise of replacing it. Couch cushions fluffed, blankets refolded and the ceiling fan and other hard to reach areas dusted. Counters sprayed down with disinfectant. List made for tomorrow – operation deep clean.

𝓣𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

If I listed everything here it would take me an age. Suffice it to say the apartment is spotless, and I have left a Tupperware box of fruit scones for Mr Nanami to take away with him on his trip (my guilty conscious acting again and Mr McGarden was rather upset that there were no leftovers for him). Funny that I didn’t see his luggage out of the closet yet, perhaps he is packing last minute. I am both nervous and excited. I feel like a co-conspirator of some awful heist!

𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂

I am a nervous wreck… I barely slept last night and found myself starting work far earlier than normal simply because I couldn’t relax. All last-minute details straightened out. Mr Nanami had left for work or the airport by the time I arrived. Unusually there were some leftovers from the previous evening left out – a crystal tumbler with a hint of whisky in the bottom and a bowl with the stems of grapes. It’s not like him to not pick up after himself but maybe he was in a rush. I left as quickly as I could, not wishing to startle the poor girl who would be staying in the apartment. This is going to be fine, right? Oh, dear lord, what have I let myself in for…

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

If I avoid being fired it will be a miracle. From what I’ve heard there was a mix-up and now Mr Nanami knows of his sister’s scheme and apparently, she might have thrown me under the bus too. I will be having words with her as soon as she deems to answer my calls, the little madam. I caught the barest glimpse of the guest this morning as she was heading into her room, she smiled and I got the sense that despite the confusion, she is happy to be here.

Mr Nanami, on the other hand, had less to say to me than I thought. He asked if I had known about Miss Karin’s plan and I couldn’t play dumb, not under his gaze. The man can be intimidating without really trying and I hope to goodness he hasn’t scared the poor woman. Rather than react with anger, he simply tightened his jaw and gave a firm nod. There is something different about him, I’m not sure what makes me say that, call it woman’s intuition. I am on reduced hours until his guest leaves and I can only hope he doesn’t reconsider my offer of resignation. I really would miss him as a client.

𝓣𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

There is something brewing here, I can feel it. What I claimed as woman’s intuition is now so much more. Mr Nanami is more relaxed than I have ever seen him, and he wears it well. It is nice to see him looking less tired, his eyes are brighter, and I would swear he smiles more frequently. His companion is doing wonders for his mood and no wonder, she is such a lovely young thing. Very intelligent, witty, and most importantly, she doesn’t let anyone walk over her. We have chatted once or twice but only for a minute. I like her, and I don’t believe I am alone in that sentiment.

I keep forgetting to detail my tasks, I would forget my head if it weren’t screwed on as Mr McGarden likes to remind me. Linens changed. Laundry ordered for collection on Monday morning. Floors cleaned. Mug replaced from last week. Plants watered and pruned.

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

Oh, my days. I don’t know what to think. The atmosphere continues to change every time I visit. Today it seems the two of them have ventured to the National Museum together. Would one consider that a date? Maybe I am reading into things too much. Too many Mills and Boon novels in my nightstand. He deserves happiness. Money can only afford so much. I’ve worked for Mr Nanami long enough to want to see him settle and be happy. I dare not get my hopes up but it’s impossible when I witness these furtive little glances between them. It’s also rather funny how they seem to fall silent whenever I am within earshot. It reminds me of my courting days…

Living area straightened, a dog-eared book found down the side of the couch cushions, and I doubt it belongs to Mr Nanami. His bookshelves are stuffed full, but each book is in pristine, unread condition. The man simply does not have time for reading. Maybe they will change. Floors cleaned. I can’t help but notice that the apartment feels far more lived in than it ever has. Diffuser changed in the master bedroom.

𝓦𝓮𝓭𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

She left. I don’t know what else to say. The apartment is a mess, well, as messy as I’ve ever seen it. Decorative ribbon on the living room floor, a half empty bottle of whisky on the kitchen island, two mugs unused but set out… Mr Nanami refuses to speak to me, refuses to even meet my eye. I’d take it for anger if I didn’t know better. There is guilt in his gaze. Whatever happened yesterday, he won’t be drawn on the matter. I’ve thought to call Miss Karin but is it my place? Never have I seen the man so dishevelled and utterly miserable. I suspect he hasn’t bathed as I can smell the lingering alcohol when he slouches past. I don’t like this. I should have never meddled in his affairs. Just when I thought he might have found someone to brighten his days… oh, it’s such a mess.

Kitchen disinfected, dishwasher emptied and reloaded. Living area tidied except for the ribbon which I dare not touch. Bedrooms… the guest room is barren and sad. Mr Nanami prevented me from stripping the linens, in fact, he practically shooed me from the room. Bathrooms cleaned. There is a lump in my throat as I write this. I wish I had never been a part of any of this, not when it has seemingly ended so disastrously. What shall I do? I suppose that nothing would be the best answer, it is not my business to meddle in.

𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂

No one was home. I worry that Mr Nanami is not eating, there is very little trash and no leftovers in the fridge. I couldn’t help but peek inside the bedroom next to his and I found it exactly as it had been the last time I was here. The sheets are made but the ruffles show the clear form of a body huddled atop the bed. I’m not sure if it’s from the poor girl or if Mr Nanami has taken to sleeping in here. A sadness remains and I’ve taken to completing my tasks as quickly as possible to escape the gloom. If things have not improved over the weekend… perhaps I can offer a friendly ear? I doubt he would accept the offer, but I can’t continue on like this and feeling partly responsible.

Windows washed. Floors cleaned. Empty liquor bottles taken out for recycling… he never normally drinks this heavily.

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

I was running late today, and of all the days to fall behind. It must be serendipitous! The key was barely in the lock when my phone rang from the depths of my bag. Lo and behold… Miss Karin had finally returned my calls. I was halfway through giving her a mouthful when she cut me off with seven words that I will remember for years to come.

He left work to go find her.

I’m in shock. Never have I known Mr Nanami to leave work before the day was done. In fact, he often worked far later than he needed to just to stay ahead of the competition. There was something in Miss Karin’s voice, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she knows more than she was letting on. I could have cried on the spot.

Linens changed although I have again left the guest bedroom. Kitchen deep cleaned. Plants watered and pruned. Dusting done. I took the liberty of baking some bread whilst I was here. The sun was long down by the time I left. I guess I lingered in the hopes of maybe seeing them both, but it wasn’t to be. There is hope in my heart once more and I will nurture it. Mr McGarden picked me up this evening and listened to me on the drive home. He told me about a saying from the country he was born and raised in… ‘whits fur ye’ll no go by ye’, which means what is for you will not go by you and I believe that in my heart.

There will be a happy ending, or I will eat my hat!

#delirious writes #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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shotmrmiller · 11 months ago

Note

cbf!Price?!?!

You mean your older brother's even older friend?

You'd been born in the US to an American mom and a British dad; but his job moved you all back across the pond. New country, new school, new people--it had been hell for you and your brother. But the family next door were so welcoming, especially their only kid, John.

Who always called you 'sunshine', gave you piggyback rides at rugby matches so you didn't get lost in the crowd, and never said "Hello" but, "There's my favorite girl".

The same cbf!Price who was your scary dog privilege when you fell in love with the underground punk scene and wanted to go to the sketchiest concerts.

When he'd enlisted, you'd cried for days, but couldn't bring yourself to tell him why you were so heartbroken, no matter how many times he asked, brows furrowed with concern. "Its only a couple months, luv, then I'll be on post just down the road. We'll still have our weekends."

And he kept that promise, as much as he could, even after you moved out of your parent's home to attend university.

It was forever on the tip of your tongue; the words you so desperately wanted to say, had to bite back, otherwise they'd destroy that precious friendship....

.... I can only imagine the myriad of unfortunate ways he might accidentally hear you whispering his name and those words....

with my brash personality, im fucking him the day he's to leave for basic. js.

no regrets around here.

ohmygod! imagine him being captain now, and he brings you to meet the boys.

Johnny whistles low the moment he lays eyes on you. "Steamin' Jesus, Captain. Tha' yer friend? She single?"

John does not answer him.

Kyle is kind, sweet, and courteous. Suspiciously so. It gives John flashbacks of how he acts towards women he wants to bed.

Right.

Simon's just his big, quiet self. He's intimidating, but you're not afraid—after all, you grew up with your bully older brother and John.

John notices his eyes gleam when you talk at him, yes, at, because Simon doesn't respond. But he listens. And he's been listening a little too intently, staring at your dainty hands gesture animatedly.

That's enough, he thinks.

"Time t'go home, love." You pout but wave goodbye at the boys and head towards his vehicle.

Johnny opens his mouth to speak but John quickly intervenes, that unless he wants to start fucking pushing, keep his thoughts to himself.

"I'll see you all at base tomorrow."

On the ride home, you tell him that they were all very nice. John's grip on the steering wheel tightens and says that as nice as they are, they go through women more than they do magazines.

"Oh." Did he imagine the disappointment laced in your voice?

"Do you?" What?

"I don't do it often."

"Oh." He turns his head to look at you, but you're staring out the window.

His heart races and elation thrums through his veins. You definitely sounded upset. John looks straight ahead and speeds up to take you home.

His home.

There's only you for him, and if you won't take the first step, then he will.

side note: what if he didn't return those feelings? christ id eat my fucking phone. im running away!!! no one look at me how embarrassing!!! his eyes soften, and he's like, "Oh. I'm so sorry, love. You and I practically grew up together."

That really stings. And then he brings his little girlfriend over to meet you and your brother, and you stiffly shake her hand and go to your room to cry.

Someone softly knocks on your door, and you don't move to open it, just yell at whoever is at the door to fuck off in a warbly voice. John's muffled I'm sorry deepens the crack in your heart.

"'S'alright, John. I'll be okay."

You did this to yourself, anyway.

The marriage invitation comes in the mail and you tear it to pieces.

Since you were young, you dreamt of being Mrs. Price, but now, that's all it'll ever be.

A childish dream.

#cbf!price #i need to write him more often!!!#hes so scrumptious!!!!

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existslikepristin · 1 year ago

Text

Hey @worldsover. Happy birthday.

Tags: NSFW, smut, Dreamcatcher, teacher!Jiu, student!Gahyeon, male reader, threesome, big ol’ noncon warning here, or is it dubcon?... no don’t fool yourself this is noncon, mysteeerious circumstances ooOOooOOh *finger wiggles*, no beta read and no editing I had to go fast cuz this is for a birthday and it’s already late by two days, blowjob, deepthroat, a little fluff, a little romance, a really poorly thought out B plot, absurdity, hypocritical “protagonists”, Jiu is stronk and rips clothes, the relationship is toxic but not the usual way, also butt stuff babyyy

B-Side: [title] ft. Gahyeon, Jiu

~~~~~

“Honestly,” Jiu says, slapping a bead of sweat off her forehead, “She's heavier than she looks. Must be a lot of muscle under there.”

You stare at Jiu, then at the other girl on your bed. What’s her name again? Gabriella? No, there’s no way that’s it. That’s a stupid guess.

“Gahyeon,” Jiu reminds you, as if reading your mind, “Do you remember what I told you about her? Well she did it again. She came into class drunk!”

Still in a certain amount of disbelief, you can only hope that Jiu’s telling you the truth, and that it’s the whole truth. If not, there will be no small amount of trouble stemming from this night. Jiu knows things. Specifically, she knows things because you’ve demonstrated them for her. You’ve regretted that for a while now, because Jiu is also impetuous, to put it mildly. If she managed to replicate—

“Turns out it’s really easy to do what you taught me on someone who’s already in a receptive and reduced state of mind like drunkenness.”

Fuck.

“Jiu, you can’t just…” you struggle for the words.

To describe how what she’s done is wrong? No.

To describe the harm Jiu may have inflicted? No.

To describe how absolutely fucked you may be here? Yeah, that’s probably the one.

“Can’t?” Jiu asks, “But it worked, didn’t it? I mean, I think it worked. Here…” Before you can stop her, she slaps Gahyeon’s thigh. “‘Ey! Get up and show us your tits, slut!”

You choke on your spit and flinch backward. This is bad. It’s not too late to run and remove yourself from any direct implication. Gahyeon’s starting to sit up, so you pivot around and take a stride toward the door.

“Damn,” Jiu half whispers, “Those are nice.”

No way.

Surely, your ears and eyes deceive you. When you turn back around, you’re assaulted with the view of what will most likely be considered assault. Gahyeon is upright, her sweater bunched up around her collarbone. Jiu is palming her bare chest, bouncing a boob as if she’s estimating its weight. To say that you’re mesmerized would not quite be accurate for a couple of reasons. For one, you’re terrified. Gahyeon’s half-lidded—but open—eyes take in your countenance, probably forming a permanent mental image that can and will be used against you in court. And for another, it’s Gahyeon that’s mesmerized in a sense. You can’t just claim to be in a state that someone else in the room is actively in. That would be asinine.

“Jiu…” you start, trying somehow to save face, “Jiu, stop, oh my go—”

“She always comes into class without a bra, and… well, this sweater isn’t the norm. Usually, it’s cleavage all the way down, or nips stabbing through a sheer tank top. So fucking distracting,” Jiu definitely doesn’t stop at your insistence. She ignores you entirely, groping, squeezing, pinching, every little motion sparking a twitch in your face. “Not that a pair of tits is inherently distracting, obviously. I’m no prude. Free the nipple, right? But she flaunts these! Pushing them together in my face when she hands in papers. Calls attention to them every chance she gets. Just the other day, she asked me to borrow a pencil, put it down her shirt in front of me, and then went back to her table and used a fucking G2! We’re working with volatile chemicals! She doesn’t have to be courteous, she just needs to think about some damn safety!”

You blink, suddenly realizing that you waited for an entire rant to finish while doing nothing but stare at the mammary glands in your girlfriend’s hands. Maybe you’re mesmerized after all. Mesmer was a hack, so any word coming from his name is likely an accurate description for a half-assed (or full-boobed, in this case) party trick.

“Alright Jiu, you’ve had your fun,” you blurt out in the brief moment of clarity you can find, “Don’t you think the nice girl should be on her way?”

“Gahyeon? Nice girl? This slut? I’ve told you all the shit she pulls in class.”

“Including in the last thirty or so seconds, yes.”

“And you think she should just get to go?”

“I mean, morally speaking, we haven’t heard her say a word of consent here, so yeah, perhaps it would be best to—”

Jiu cuts you off with a cock-browed stink eye that reeks of the sentence: Are you fucking kidding me?

“Are we gonna have a problem here?” Jiu asks, out loud this time.

“Whaaat?” you creak, “Nooo, no. I’m just saying, what if she…” You pause, trying to indicate nonverbally some deeper implication to your words with a series of bonkers facial expressions. Jiu hasn’t always been the most reliable at catching on to double entendres though. “What if she’s not into it?”

Jiu squints. “What? Are you saying all those other people have been into it? I sure didn’t hear them consenting.”

Fucking holy shit fuck, you’re fucked. Jiu’s fucked. You’re both so fucking fucked.

“NO.” You try to contain your volume, but it still comes out a bit loud, even through your gritted teeth. “I’m saying… what if… someone were to think… that perhaps… they might discuss this… with an official?”

There is a cursed moment of silence while Jiu simultaneously judges you and mulls over your words. Finally, she clicks her tongue, “You think I didn’t do it right, don’t you?”

You put your hands up, unsure of how to respond without giving everything away to the potentially fully aware Gahyeon.

“You really think I fucked it up, huh? Hey Gahyeon, what are you gonna remember later?”

The silence is palpable.

“See? Nothing. You always say they can’t talk back like this, right?”

“Because…” You pause to develop a new double entend—Who are you kidding? You’re already fucking fucked, as previously stated. “Because I tell them not to talk back! It’s not an inherent factor! Did you tell her not to talk back?!”

“Oh…” Jiu says.

“OH?!”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure I built that in.”

“Pretty sure?!”

“Look, like it or not, I’m gonna keep on keeping on with these titties. If you don’t think I did it right, you can run away. Otherwise, you can get your cock out of your pants.”

“And the memory?!”

“Same diff. Built that in.”

“How?!”

Jiu sighs and climbs further onto the bed, behind Gahyeon. She snakes her hands around and continues groping away. Something that she whispers into Gahyeon’s ear gets Gahyeon to finish removing her sweater, and she merely sits, politely, silently, while continuing to be assaulted before your very eyes.

Suddenly, Gahyeon’s head is thrown back. It's not her doing it, it's Jiu with fingers entwined in her hair.

“Look at her,” Jiu hisses at you, “I don't even care if she does remember. She's a stupid hot slut who teases me every day, and has no respect for my cooking class. If anyone needs to get their pretty little throat fucked, it's her.”

Hang on, what?

“I'm going to get my strap and I'm going to fuck her so raw that she won't even be able to come into class for a week. Maybe then the other students can actually get something done for once—”

“Don't you teach chemistry?” you ask.

Jiu pauses her gripping of Gahyeon’s body. “Yeah…”

“I could have sworn you just said cooking.”

“What? That would sure be a silly class to teach!”

“I mean, not really. That would actually be pretty cool if you taught cooking. You're really good at it.”

Jiu’s head fully pokes out from behind Gahyeon. her eyes are glistening with tears. “Oh my gosh, you really think that?”

“Of course. Babe,” you pause, and move to stroke her cheek, “you've always been passionate about your cooking, and I just want you to pursue your career the way you want to. Cooking, chemistry, it's all the same to me as long as you're happy.”

She sniffs hard, clearing out her nose. “Aw, honey… You'd support me if all I taught was cooking? Really?”

“Absolutely.”

She gives you a pouty-lipped stare for a few seconds, clearly holding back the waterworks. “O-oooh, get over here!” She shoves Gahyeon over and holds out her arms.

With a smile, you take Jiu up on the embrace, squeezing her tightly and basking in her warmth.

Sniffling even harder directly into your ear, Jiu babbles little nothings for a moment, and then says, “You sweety, you… can I suck your cock?”

“Sure, babe,” you say, pulling her back a little so you can give her a brief kiss.

Jiu gets your pants off fast. She's always quick at that. Lots of practice. Your dick hangs free until she gets it in her hand, working you up to full mast while she kisses your neck. It only takes a quick pull from her on the hem of your shirt to remind you to take it off for her. As soon as you do, her kisses go lower, and lower, and lower. Your eyes naturally flutter closed and your hand alights on her head, not so much guiding her as petting her.

Then, you’re inside her. Her lips, so incredibly tender, wrap the head of your cock, and her tongue pulls you in deeper. It’s sensual, slow, relaxing even. All of your worries fade away. You stroke her hair, and look down at your lover to take in her beaut—fucking dammit, the girl’s still here! How the fuck did you forget?! She’s literally lying down, half naked, between you and Jiu, and this is very concerning, obviously!

“Jiu! Jiu, wait! We’ve got to do something with her!”

She pulls back, still rolling your cockhead over her tongue. “Oh. Yeah. Let’s fuck her! Sit up, slut!”

Gahyeon does as she’s instructed, slowly sitting straight back up and slotting herself between you and Jiu. Her tits end up smushed against your pelvis, hugging your dick. It’s not quite as good as a blowjob, but her boobs are big enough to fully engulf you, and that’s pretty great… but you can’t think about that right now.

“No, babe, we need her to—”

You just can’t get a word in today, can you? Jiu’s mouth covers yours. Her tongue dives in, stealing away whatever you were going to say and the throat on your dick turns any thoughts into pleasured moans. But that is a problem in and of itself, the throat on your dick. Because it’s not Jiu’s.

Sneaking a glance down, you see that it is in fact Gahyeon whose head has been shoved and is now deepthroating you with no resistance. Her hair is bunched up in Jiu’s hand, and she’s bent over at one hell of a severe angle. Her ass looks real good in those tiny, tight shorts from up here.

“Please, wait for just a second, Jiu.”

She backs off, but only barely. Her eyes capture yours, lock them in place, and throw away the keys. “Yes, honey?” Jiu has never been good at hiding her smiles.

“Okay, let’s fuck her.”

“Yeah!” Jiu jumps with joy, and would have continued the alliteration if allotted adequate hours, but instead she kisses you again, on the nose, cheek, and lips before falling onto her back to undress.

Ignoring the storm of projectiles that Jiu’s clothes become, you actually take a good look at Gahyeon. Her eyes are still half closed, just like before. In fact, her whole face is slack, fully relaxed, not something you often see when your cock (or anyone’s) is fully stuffed down their esophagus. A light bidirectional breeze tickles your stomach at a steady rate though, so if there’s a lesson to be taken away here, it seems the real secret to comfortable deepthroat is to be entirely unresponsive to the dick you’re sucking. Both arms are resting to her right side, where they landed after she was told to sit up.

Once Jiu is naked though, things change up rapidly. She grabs Gahyeon by the hips and yanks backward. Being the ragdoll that she currently is, Gahyeon limply falls forward and end up with one cheek shoved up against your hip. Miraculously, your dick being so far down her throat is what prevents her from face planting at the foot of the bed. Jiu pays this awkward positioning no mind as she, bare-handed, rips apart the sides of Gahyeon’s shorts and the underwear beneath, as if you needed the reminder that she’s both the beauty and the beast in your relationship. If it turns out she pulled everything off correctly today, she might be the brains too… Nah, she’ll always be your favorite dumbass. How on Earth did she convince you that she taught university level chemistry?

You politely readjust Gahyeon so she’s flush with your pelvis again, and you start to thrust. “Gabriella…” you start.

“Gahyeon,” Jiu corrects you as she yanks Gahyeon’s legs back again, diving between them and hungrily pressing her face into Gahyeon’s ass crack.

“Right. Gahyeon, hold yourself up and suck.”

Oddly, she doesn’t do as she’s told. That’s not how this normally goes. You continue thrusting down her throat, kind of monotonously. “Gahyeon?”

Jiu comes up from Gahyeon’s ass for a breath and to let you know, “Oh. Yeah, sorry. I forgot to mention, you need to say the trigger word.”

“You gave her a trigger word?” you ask, actually somewhat impressed, “Nice! What is it?”

Jiu beams a cheesy smile. “It’s ‘titties!’”

FUCK.

“TITTIES?!” you can’t contain the shout. Gahyeon twitches, but otherwise remains unresponsive.

“Hehehe, yup!” Jiu looks so pleased with herself.

“It’s supposed to be something that she’s not likely to hear!”

Jiu cocks that eyebrow again and waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, no decent person says ‘titties’ in public.”

You palm your face with both hands. One isn’t enough. Gahyeon slides off your cock and face plants at the foot of the bed. So much for avoiding that. “Dammit, everybody says ‘titties’ in public these days! More and more people every day!”

“But…” Jiu takes a quick breath. “If more people are saying it every day, that means not everyone is saying it in public yet.”

Claw down your cheeks, leaving red streaks. “That’s not the fucking point, Jiu! Lots and lots of people say it these days, especially on college campuses!”

Jiu screws up her face the way she does when she tries really hard to find the answer to a tough question. “Okay, how do we get rid of it?”

“Just tell her, but it doesn’t go away immediately. Every time she hears it, it lasts a little longer.”

“Oh. Easy. Ey, Gahyeon! Forget about ‘titties’ okay? It’s not your trigger word anymore.”

You glare at Jiu, but she ignores it, happily going back to devouring whichever hole she was working on before.

“Okay,” you whisper, “okay okay okay. Gahyeon, get up on your elbows.”

This time, Gahyeon does as she’s told, propping herself up. Excellent. You lift her head by the chin. You’ve always had a thing for a good pair of lips—it’s no wonder that you’re dating Jiu (for that, among her many other qualities)—so you find yourself rather taken with Gahyeon’s. They’re very slightly thinner than Jiu’s, but they’re curvy, like the rest of the girl. You run your thumb over her lower lip, simply taking the time to admire her. Jiu has good taste. And if what Jiu’s told you about the attempted seductions is accurate, so does Gahyeon.

“Tell me if you can talk now,” you mumble.

“I can,” Gahyeon mumbles back. Her voice is kind of… creaky.

“Are you any good at sucking cock?”

“Yes.”

“And do you enjoy sucking cock?”

“Sometimes.”

You roll your eyes at the lukewarm answer and straighten up so that your dick is directly in front of Gahyeon’s lips again. “Tonight, you love sucking cock. So take it deep.”

It’s still a requirement to place your dick to Gahyeon’s lips before she starts. In the state she’s in, she can only really react to physical touch and sounds consistently. She should be able to see, but what she sees may not be exactly the same as what she perceives. You’d be very curious to know what she is currently perceiving, but her ability to describe it is most likely inadequate, or even entirely inaccurate.

Regardless, she does as she was told. Just like before, she gets all the way down, but now it’s intentional (technically). And she is loving it (technically). There’s not a gag to be heard as she takes your cock as far down her throat as it will go, backs away until the tip is at her lips, and the process repeats. The corners of her lips curl up into the tiniest smile (at least, more than usual).

“Honey? Mind if I use this slut’s mouth?” Jiu asks you after a bit.

You’re tempted to say no and follow through with this face fuck until completion, but you know what they say: Always let your girlfriend do whatever she wants with the sluts that she brings into the house under mysterious circumstances. It’s common courtesy.

“Sure thing, babe. Gahyeon, get on your back so you can service Jiu.”

Gahyeon’s movement is suspiciously sluggish, as she slowly extracts your cock from her throat. She blinks a few times before pushing herself onto her hands and knees.

“What’s taking you so long?” you ask.

“I don’t understand,” Gahyeon responds, stopping her movement altogether.

“What part?”

“I don’t know a Jiu.”

You’re briefly puzzled, but you figure out the problem in the moment immediately before Jiu clears the air.

“My students call me Ms. Kim.”

You scowl. “Not even ‘Professor’ Kim, huh?”

Jiu shakes her head and shrugs.

Annoyed, you grab Gahyeon by the arm. She has no mechanism to resist. “Don’t you respect your professors, Gahyeon?”

“No,” she says simply.

Annoyance justified, you continue, “Why not?”

“They claim authority that they don’t generally deserve.”

“What if they work really hard?”

“It doesn’t matter if their ability to teach is hampered by the school.”

“Then why go to school?!”

“Taking down an establishment is impossible without knowing it intimately.”

You and Jiu both blink in surprise.

“Well, okay… What about your cooking professor?”

“I love Ms. Kim.”

Jiu puts her hand to her mouth and squeaks out, “You do?”

“Yes.”

Well now you’re getting somewhere. You lay Gahyeon down on her back and release her arm. The handprint fades slowly. “Why do you love Ms. Kim?”

“She teaches a valuable, practical skill without being pretentious and doesn’t shill fascist propaganda to her students. She is also extremely attractive.”

You smirk at Jiu, but continue addressing Gahyeon, “Have you tried to seduce Ms. Kim?”

“Yes, with minimal effort to avoid disrupting her work.”

“How would you feel if you did disrupt her?”

“I would feel the need to apologize.”

Jiu’s lower lip quivers and her eyes glisten with tears yet again. Crying is not an incredibly uncommon occurrence for her.

“Would you consider being her slutty little sex slave?”

“No.”

What a fucking downer! All that build up only for her to reject the proposal! You and Jiu gawk at each other incredulously.

“What?!” you demand, “Why not?! You just said you tried seducing her and find her extremely attractive, both of which are totally valid!”

“Unbalanced power dynamics in sexual relationships are morally reprehensible.”

Jiu and you share a look down at Gahyeon’s supine form and back, and then you both burst into laughter. Forget her being a downer, this girl’s hilarious!

You give Gahyeon’s bare thigh a couple of hearty slaps. “Sure, sure! That’s a good one, Gahyeon. You want to be a slut for Jiu!”

Then you remember that Gahyeon doesn’t know Jiu as “Jiu,” so you open you mouth to course correct, but Jiu goes first.

“Yeah, you little slut! You are going to get weak in the knees for Ms. Kim from now on. Hearing her voice will make you uncontrollably horny. Her spit will be a delicacy to you.”

You smile broadly. Jiu really has learned a lot. She’s incepting Gahyeon correctly, using the second person future tense without contractions! What a fantastic, sinister girlfriend you found yourself!

“Your ‘morals’ will always be worth compromising when it comes to Ms. Kim,” Jiu keeps going, voice curiously peppy for something so dark, “Ms. Kim will own your holes, and your desire to please her in every way will rival your desire to undo the societal imbalances caused by authoritarian capitalists. You will do anything for Ms. Kim.”

Clap for that devious performance. Applaud, even. Jiu grins from ear to ear. “How was that, honey?”

“Excellent, babe! And for a first attempt, too? Incredible.”

Jiu blushes, “Well, I did try it once before on another student.”

You nod approvingly. “Did that one go just as well?”

“He hasn’t left his work station without first cleaning it in the last two weeks, so it seems to have been good!”

“Oh, that guy? I was wondering where all the complaints about him had gone.”

Jiu slips her hands beneath Gahyeon’s shoulders and yanks her to the side, finding a good position to straddle her head. “I can fill you in on the details later, but for now I think you should hurry up. Don’t want to let my new slut’s ass dry out.”

You hoist Gahyeon’s legs out of the way, dipping down to investigate. Indeed, her tiny rosebud is gleaming with saliva. So it was her asshole that Jiu was eating out! No sense in allowing such a lovely, courteous thing go to waste! Before you get back up and line up your cock, you give it a quick lick. You can’t help yourself. Jiu’s spit is delectable. Fitting, for such a good cook.

Speaking of fitting, your cock and Gahyeon’s ass? Fantastic fit. The preparation provided by Jiu is what really seals the deal though. The entry is a dream, metaphorically for you and something close to literally for Gahyeon. You expect you’ll have an absolute blast once you start fucking in earnest, but you want to wait for Jiu to get settled in first.

And Jiu does just that. She faces you and settles in on Gahyeon’s face, as expected, humming cheerfully. It’s hard to believe just how enamored you are with the way she wiggles side to side, getting a feel for the facial contours most suited to being seating.

“Get a taste of Ms. Kim’s pussy, Gahyeon, and tell her what you think of it,” you suggest, already knowing that Gahyeon is in for a treat.

Gahyeon sticks out her tongue, and immediately recoils with a gasp. “You taste so much better than I imagined!”

She knocked it out of the park with that one. It’s uncommon for anybody to show much of any enthusiasm in this state of mind unless they’re specifically told to.

“Awww!” Jiu coos, “You little sweetheart! Eat me out, deeply.”

Gahyeon seemed quite unbothered about sucking your cock, but she seems downright pumped about this. Her arms even leap up, blindly falling over Jiu’s thighs. Jiu squeals with delight as Gahyeon’s tongue flies over her clit, through her petals, and straight inside her. You can see the sparks in Jiu’s eyes before they shut tight, the instability in her legs before she presses her palms into Gahyeon’s breasts, and the crack of a smile before she groans in blissful passion.

Oh, Jiu. Such a good woman, doing such bad things.

Suddenly, you remember you’re balls deep inside this girl’s ass. Right. You can admire Jiu and still get yourself off.

Pull back a stroke and slam back in. It doesn’t matter one bit to Gahyeon how rough you are, but you don’t want to do anything that would ruin Jiu’s enjoyment, so you push down on Gahyeon’s hips, pinning her mostly in place (it’s not perfectly effective) while you fuck her.

That puts you and Jiu face to face. Heavy breaths hit each other over and over. You kiss. You lean into each other, nipping lips and necks, giggling darkly. Sharing a little sex toy like this is perfect for affirming your affection for each other. Jiu stares into your eyes, trying desperately not to blink as she reaches climax.

“Beautiful,” you whisper, caressing her trembling jawline.

When she manages to get a lungful of air, Jiu whimpers back, “I love you, honey.”

“Love you too,” you return. You punctuate with a new kiss, firmly gripping the back of Jiu’s head to ensure you can stay attached while you both pound and grind away. You even give her hair a tight little tug, which seems to give her a miniature, aftershock sort of orgasm.

Surely, you imagine, she must be all but drowning Gahyeon, but that’s no reason to stop. Not when the girl’s neurons are registering the fulfillment of her fantasies (whether they be brand new fantasies or older ones), and her body reacts accordingly, her pussy grooling all over your cock and making your ass-smashing even smoother. You even detect moment or two of slight tightening. All these orgasms urge you to join in, and you have no reason not to.

Except, perhaps, one.

You take Jiu’s hand and give her knuckles a quick kiss. “Jiu…”

She already knows. With a completely unnecessary seductive lip bite, she slips off of Gahyeon’s face and down until she’s fully on top of the girl, back to Gahyeon’s stomach, legs spread to fold around you.

Pull out of Gahyeon. The toy doesn’t matter anymore, not when you have Jiu below you. Your cum is for her. Without looking, you find her pussy easily, naturally, even. It’s unclear to you whether you were this close to cumming already or if it’s just Jiu’s body that speeds you along that path, but it begins as soon as you reach her furthest depths. Now this is a perfect fit. You drop on top of her, desperate for her mouth on yours again as you fill her with pump after pump after pump of your crème de la penis. She moans your name repeatedly between hitched breaths, and you repeat hers as well, voices indicative of a need that falls on every level of the hierarchy. Only once you’ve been thoroughly depleted do you notice the little sharp pains of Jiu’s nails digging into your shoulder and back.

Neither of you move, if you don’t include your heaving chests, focusing on each other’s eyes and bathing in each other’s auras. This time, you say it first, “I love you, Jiu.”

“I love you,” she tells you back.

The three words practically turn into a chant, until each of you is smiling uncontrollably and rubbing your noses together as if you can’t come up with something more interesting to do.

Eventually, as all things must end, you break apart with a last giggle. You’ve gone soft, but you don’t know when exactly your spent dick fell out of Jiu. Taking a quick look, she’s leaking an incredible amount of cum directly onto her student’s pussy.

Sighing wistfully, Jiu reaches back over her shoulder to stroke Gahyeon’s hair. “Well, how long do you think it will be before she’s begging me to use her?”

“Well, normally it takes a few months for someone to mull it over, but every time she goes under it’ll speed things up. If someone were to give her a super common trigger that she’ll hear accidentally multiple times a day… maybe two, three weeks?”

Jiu whines incoherently and rolls off of Gahyeon’s body, casually grabbing a boob and rolling it about. “Oh, I’m sorry for having faith in humanity, that people would have the decency not to say ‘titties’ in public. Anyway… I guess I’ll just have to keep her close while I wait.”

You nod approvingly and massage the back of Jiu’s leg.

“Hey, since you said she wants to be my slut tonight, what do you think would happen if I woke her up right now?” Jiu asks. She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Gahyeon, wak—”

Your anxiety spikes.

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