#i won't say but there IS a right answer. to me.

[kooqitas]

#pairing: jungkook x reader.

#genre: smut MINORS DNI | #w.c: ~1800

#synopsis: crying on jungkook's shoulder might not have been the smartest idea in the world since now he's fucking you while your ex is calling.

#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f.), namjoon ex bf, rough sex. jk has a bick dick. maybe phone sex?

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it was friday when jungkook texted you asking if you were gonna the college party, and of course your answer was 'no'. breaking up with namjoon was one thing, but seeing him at a party where he would probably kiss several girls in front of you was a bit too much

"you can't stay home while the biggest party of the semester is going on"

'"yes i can, and i will!"

"god, why are you so complicated? at least come over to my house, i won't leave you suffering alone'

"i'm not suffering, jungkook!'

that's a lie. you were. a lot.

you ended up accepting jungkook's invitation, at first feeling bad for ruining the party for him, but jungkook was always the person who made you comfortable, usually when you went to parties with namjoon, he was the one who always stayed by your side while namjoon got drunk with his friends, he was the one who took you and namjoon home, the reality is that jungkook spent much more time by your side than your, now ex, boyfriend.

jungkook was excited, he came over and offered you wine and before you knew it you were on the couch, with your legs over his while he tried to convince you that it was namjoon who had lost you, not the other way around.

"he fuck so good, jungkook," you admitted, clearly overcome by the drink (added to your fertile period that made your panties damp at that very moment). "that pisses me off. he's arrogant, stupid, i hate him... but damn, the sex was so good"

jungkook laughed, as affected by the alcohol as you were, it's not like he'd never heard namjoon talk about sex with you, how wild and rough you two were.

it wasn't like jungkook had never heard you two...

but in that situation, knowing that you weren't together anymore, it was a little different...

"he pulled my hair, hit me, called me a whore, damn, it was so good, i can complain about him in many ways, except for this one, the son of a bitch made me cum like no one else"

"jesus!" jungkook said, taking a sip of his drink.

okay, things need to be pointed out, yes, jungkook was gorgeous, damn, he was hot, but you had never thought of him as a 'man' he was just your boyfriend's best friend, who always hung out with you at parties, who danced with you on the dance floor, who complimented your clothes and makeup, who complimented your smell, your lip gloss...

"i hope one day i can find someone who fucks me like him," you blurted out.

and jungkook took a deep breath, motivated a little by the drink, but deep down he knew that if it wasn't right then he might never have another chance. i mean, it was crazy, of course it was, who in their right mind would try to have sex with their best friend's ex-girlfriend when it hasn't even been a month since they broke up...

but jungkook wasn't the sanest person at the moment, in fact he never was when it came to you, not when he jerked off in the bathroom of namjoon's parents' beach house last month after seeing you parading around the pool in a red bikini.

"i can fuck you like him, in fact... i can fuck you even better"

"what?" you choked on your own saliva when you heard that.

jungkook took advantage of the fact that your legs were on top of his and started to leave a mischievous caress on your knee

"i told you i can fuck you better than him"

"jungkook..." you scolded him, but deep down that idea excited you.

"hi, love"

"fuck, that's not right"

"why not, why the hell are you so scared to do that?

"it's not for me, it's for you"

"well, i don't care... i've wanted to fuck you for a while now"

you choked again, but before you could say anything, jungkook took the glass from your hand and laid down with his body on top of yours.

you were going to ask again what the hell was that, what the hell was he doing, but jungkook kissed you, and there, fuck any lucid thought you could have.

the taste of wine in his mouth, his hot tongue entering your mouth with voracity, fuck any conscious shit, you needed to fuck with jungkook at that moment.

it was a blur until you were only in your panties underneath him while he sucked your tits, using his hand to play with the free nipple in a somewhat abrupt way, he seemed desperate, in reality, he was desperate, jungkook had been thinking about fucking you for so long that it seemed like a joke from the universe.

he finally took off his shirt and you smiled with his chest exposed, and jungkook just grunted, going back to kissing you while the tie of his shorts hit your waist. you knew he would be big, but nothing expected you for what you saw when he pulled down his shorts with his underwear all at once.

jungkook's cock was big, thick, full of veins and the purple head was already leaking precum. you couldn't hide your scared face when you saw it, making jungkook laugh.

'what's wrong?'

'fuck, that won't fit...'

'yes, it will, love, i'm gonna suck you and open you up for me, you're gonna take every inch of it and be a good girl on my cock!'

you gasped, agreeing, and jungkook laughed again, trailing kisses down your belly until he reached your panties... you quickly lifted your hips, a silent request for him to remove the fabric right away, and he obeyed.

the first thing jungkook did was smell your wet panties, the scene almost made you cum.

"if you taste as good as you smell, fuck, kitten..."

and jungkook sucked your clit, you moaned loudly, holding his hair. it was a mix of desperation and pleasure that you only felt when you had sex while stoned with your ex, and there was jungkook, ok, not 100% sober, but wanting you so fucking much...

you didn't even see when he inserted a finger, but at a certain point you were grabbing the couch's upholstery because he had three fingers inside you while he sucked your clit, your hips lifting desperately seeking more contact, at the same time trying to pull away, jungkook's long hair tickling your belly nicely, the way he put his fingers deeper and deeper...

you saw the ceiling of the room spin, and the next second jungkook had only his mouth on you.

sucking every drop.

you had never been sucked so well, but you were far from satisfied, so you were just grateful when without any prior warning jungkook entered you.

fuck, it burned, he was so fucking big. jungkook laughed, trying to contain his own arousal while you got used to his size. he ran his hand over your nipples, squeezing the tip, rubbing his fingertips on your belly, on your thigh... all while looking at you as if he wanted to devour you... and he did.

"jungkook..."

just his name was enough for him to understand, and then he thrust, his balls hitting you full on made you see stars. and the rhythm only increased, along with the brutality.

"i've wanted you like this for so long, fuck, imagining my cock destroying that tiny pussy"

you grabbed his shoulder, immersed in your own feeling and the noises you were making.

but something took you out of orbit.

ir rather, someone.

the shrill ring of the phone with the name 'namjoon' on the screen. you ignored the first call, the second, but on the third jungkook got irritated, he swiped right and simply accepted the call. your eyes widened, mumbling a 'what?'

but all jungkook said back was an 'answer', stopping his thrusting into you.

you obeyed.

damn the time you obeyed.

"where the fuck are you? why didn't you come to the party?"

"i... hm?"

"i'm asking why you didn't come to this fucking party, i got all dressed up, i bought a fucking bouquet, i bought your favorite chocolate, where the fuck are you?" namjoon was irritated, visibly irritated.

"i..." you tried to answer, fuck, what would you say to him? "i jus-OH" you moaned loudly, when jungkook moved inside you again, a little less aggressive than before, still strong.

you whispered a 'stop' but jungkook ignored it, laughing when you put your hand over your mouth trying not to moan loudly.

"you what?" namjoon questioned from the other side.

"i... i'm not very- very well" you choked on your own moans, while jungkook laughed.

you looked at him desperately, but he just laughed, whispering for you to continue talking on the phone. and of course you could hang up and end it all, but that feeling was so good... you felt like a slut, but you had never felt so good.

jungkook slapped your breasts audibly, enough for namjoon to hear.

"what's going on there?"

"nothing... is just thFUCK, JUNGKOOK!" you screamed without thinking as jungkook thrust even harder, the couch scraping on the living room floor as his balls slammed violently against you.

"wait, what? you said WHAT?"

at this point in the game, fuck any shit, you just ignored your ex-boyfriend, moaning loudly as jungkook fucked you like an animal, you knew namjoon was listening, he was following the line, but fuck any shit, you needed to cum, and thanks to this disgusting situation you would cum soon.

"are you fucking with my best friend? what type of whore are you?"

"my whore." jungkook took the phone from your hand, still thrusting angrily. "i'm fucking her delicious pussy, the one you kept telling me was tight, that it was delicious, fuck, you were right, it's so fucking delicious!"

and jungkook hung up, still laughing at you.

namjoon returned the call, the phone vibrating in jungkook's hand as he laughed evilly.

jungkook pressed the phone to your clit, the vibration being enough to make you cum exactly 10 seconds later, but jungkook went further...

he accepted namjoon's call, only to turn it into a video call, and then show his (maybe now ex) best friend, a video with a perfect angle of him cumming inside you.

before namjoon could say anything, jungkook hung up, his heavy body falling on top of yours.

"fuck that..." you tried to say.

"shhhh, let's think about it later? i just lost my best friend"

"do you regret it?"

"it depends... will I be able to fuck you more often?"

you thought, and it was pretty clear that you wanted to again, so why lie?

"if you want..."

"then no, fuck, i only regret not trying before..."

"u are crazy..." you laughed.

[verycoolusername1]

Don't think you understand

Summary: Quinn can't get ahold of his feelings, which leads him to push you away unintentionally.

Track 8 of short n' sweet - dumb & poetic

Warning! Slight miscommunication

A/N: This does have a happy ending :) and it's short. I apologize for that!! I just wanted to post something for the short n sweet masterlist(been delaying it)

And I gave you guys a bridgerton love confession kinda so enjoy that lmao

You haven't talked to him in weeks. The man was your best friend and you haven't talked to him in two months, how did this even happen?

Hmm, maybe when you had confessed your feelings to Quinn around the same time, you left without an answer, analyzing the blank look on his face, bringing enough of one for you.

This was your fifth tub of ice cream in two weeks, while on a call with Luke(and Jack, who also joined the supposed gossip session).

"Wait, so let me get this straight." Jack said, collecting his thoughts. "You told him you were in love with him, and he didn't say anything or have any reaction which led to you two not talking anymore?"

"Well, it certainly helps hearing it out loud." You grumbled.

"Sorry! I just need to recap so I know why I have to slap him when I next see him." Jack mutters the last part.

"You know, for him being the oldest, he sure is stupid." Luke chuckles.

"Pretty sure I'm the stupid one here, I mean, I thought he actually liked me back." You smiled Sadly.

"You think he doesn't like you in that way?" Jack asked, you nodded.

"Yeah, no, Quinn's definitely in love with you, Y/N. Have you seen the way he looks at you? The way his eyes seem to shine brighter when he talks about you." Luke shrugged.

"Okay, now you guys are feeding into my delusions." You rolled your eyes. "I lost my best friend because I couldn't control my feelings about him. And now I'm sitting on my kitchen floor, crying to Conan Gray while eating Ben & Jerry's."

There was a sudden knock on your door. Who could that be? It was late in the night in Vancouver.

"I'll be right back guys, don't hang up." You warned.

You walked up to the door and looked through the peephole and saw the man of the house standing on the other side. You unlocked it. How could you not?

"Quinn? What are you doin-?" You were cut off with Quinn kissing you passionately. You melted in the kiss before slowly breaking apart.

"I'm in love with you too." Quinn confessed. "I think I've been in love with you the moment I saw you falling off the swing when we were kids, if I'm being honest. It's very easy to fall in love with someone as special, charming, kind, heartless, caring, and comforting as you. I can't imagine being with anyone else other than you. And I don't even want to think about how sorry I am for not realizing it until now. But I love you Y/N, and I don't think I can ever stop - No, I know that I can't and won't."

Now it your time to be in shock.

"I understand if I'm too late, I just wanted you to know. I'm sorry for kissing you. I just wanted to know what it felt if it was the only time -" You cut Quinn off by kissing him.

"I love you too." You whispered. "Gosh you're so dumb and poetic."

Quinn chuckles. "What does that even mean?" He followed you into the house.

"Y/N!!! Did you get kidnapped? Omg Luke what if we gotta call the cops and tell them what happened and we gotta tell them she was crying about our idiotic brother-"

"Jack shut up." Luke looked at his brother bewildered.

"I'm just saying, could be a possibility." Jack mutters.

"I'm not dead guys." You picked up the phone.

"Y/N! You're alive. What happened? Who was at the door?" Luke asked, Jack chuckling behind him.

"Oh you know just this really hot guy." You answered simply.

"Okay? How hot was he? Is he gonna make you get over Quinn?" Jack asked.

"Very hot and no." You answered.

Quinn came into frame behind you, kissing you on your neck.

Jack and Luke's jaw drops. "No way!" "What the hell?"

"There are children present in this conversation, you guys are disgusting." Jack gestured to Luke who shoved him in response. "I'm 21!"

"Bye guys." Quinn hung up the phone.

"That was rude, you know." You looked back at him.

"I know, I just wanted to kiss you without them bickering." Quinn mumbles.

"And to think I was just crying over you not too long ago." You recalled.

"I'll make up for every tear you shed for my stupidity, I promise." Quinn's nose brushes yours.

"I know you will." You leaned in closer.

[noellez-best-life23]

“Someone named Logan,” Sam answers after a quick glance down at the paperwork in front of him. “Do you know him?” Ok so obviously I knew he was in this because the it says it but the way I giggling so school girlish when a crush is mentioned is not right so excited to be reading this now

A life with me isn't a life that you want for yourself. I wish you could see that I'm doing this because I care about you. I'll never be able to give you a fraction of what you deserve.” Ok but what is it with these hurt characters who won't let someone love them because they think we deserve better like let us love you

Ok so I love the whole part where they all meet Logan calling Bucky bub Bucky staring and the reader being the keep them on task and they way Bucky was like we go this way you go that way it has me giggling so much

“It's what HYDRA is using to conduct breeding experiments with the mutants,” Bucky answers in a strained voice. “And now we've all three been infected with it.” Uh oh oh no what could possibly happen 😉😉

Ok so the spicy smuty part after is so hot like why can't I just have both forever and Logan's sweet little talk about how Bucky loves her

“Bucky,” you attempt to interrupt him gently. He ignores it, needing to get this off of his chest before it eats him alive. Not me wanting to scream shut up Bucky and listen

“I did love Logan,” you cut him off. “I'll always care about him, and I'm thankful for what he and I had. Without it, I wouldn't have found you.”

“I do,” you grin at him. “I'm sorry it took me so long to see it. I was so scared of getting hurt again that I let it blind me.” You stroke your thumb over his cheek and he can't help but melt into your touch. He thinks he's fucking dreaming. What why am I tearing up

Ok I loved this it was so good with they spicy and that fluffy ending of the reader and Bucky this was amazing

no one does it better

bucky barnes x reader, past logan howlett x reader

bucky barnes x reader x logan howlett {SEX POLLEN}

word count: 8.8k

summary: sent on a mission with the man you never intended to fall for, you run into someone from your past who your heart has never been able to fully let go of.

a/n: couldn't decide who i wanted to write my next one-shot for so i thought, why not both? these men are both my weakness and this trope is my weakness so this was bound to happen at some point. also big shout-out to @embbarnes for her encouragement with this and assuring me that it isn't complete trash 🫶🏻💕

warnings/tags: 18+ mdni, smut, sex pollen therefore dubcon, fuck or die situation, mmf threesome, unprotected p in v, oral (m&f receiving), definitely some angst, love triangle elements, mainly reader's pov but there's some pov switches for bucky and logan too, dirty talk, reader is afab, no use of y/n, multiple orgasms, hints of praise kink and overstimulation, reader has telekinetic abilities but i don't focus on that much

my masterlist

The shrill, repetitive beeping of an alarm clock startles you awake and causes you to bolt upright in the bed you'd fallen asleep in.

Not your bed, you realize as you clutch Bucky's satin sheets to your naked chest. You'd accidentally passed out in his room after your time together last night.

“Shit,” you breathe as you glance over to the digital display of the alarm clock on the bedside table, next to where Bucky begins to stir from his sleep. It's seven thirty in the morning, and you're going to be late for a meeting on an upcoming mission if you don't get back to your room and get ready ASAP.

“I'm so sorry,” you mumble as he hits the snooze button of the outdated alarm with the side of his metal hand. “I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

You withdraw from the covers, throwing your legs over the side of the mattress as you start to reach down to gather your clothes that are flung precariously on the floor next to you, when you feel his flesh hand wrap around your forearm.

You glance back at him to find him smirking up at you, sleep still written across his face.

It shouldn't be possible for anyone to look so beautiful first thing in the morning, you think.

He pulls you back down to him by your arm, only letting go when your face is close enough for him to seal his lips around yours. He kisses you slowly, lazily - not at all like the hurried, heated mess of tongue and teeth from last night.

“I'm not sorry. You're really cute when you snore, actually,” he murmurs when he pulls away.

You roll your eyes, proceeding to pick your clothes up from his floor. “I do not snore,” you retort in mock defense. You yank yesterday's tank top over your head before standing to tug on your underwear and sweatpants. “But we are both going to be late for this meeting if we don't get our asses out of bed.”

You turn to face him, your eyes raking over his still relaxed position against his pillow. He sits up, a look that you can't quite place on his face - something between dejection and disappointment. Whatever it is, you know you're the reason for it.

“It's not a big deal, you know,” he starts lightly with a small smile. You quirk an eyebrow at him. “That you slept in my bed,” he clarifies. “You technically live in this building, so I don't think we crossed any imaginary line.”

You huff a laugh under your breath, a sinking feeling in your gut at the direction that you feel this conversation is headed.

You wouldn't admit it to him because of said imaginary lines, but you enjoyed sleeping next to Bucky. He's warm, and his presence is comforting, even to your subconscious. You slept the most peacefully that you have in months last night. Normally, you toss and turn and wake up multiple times throughout the night. But after falling asleep pressed up against him, you didn't wake a single time until his alarm started blaring and you opened your eyes to the early morning sunlight streaming through the cracks in his curtains.

But you and him both know what this is, and what this isn't. And as badly as such a large part of you wants to have more than this with him, you don't know if you're ready to put your heart on the line again.

“Get dressed, Barnes,” you say as you rip his comforter away from his body with the snap of your fingers, leaving him fully exposed. The sight makes you want to crawl back into the bed with him, but you force yourself to walk towards his door, ignoring the incredulous look on his face. “I'm not going to be the one to blame when Sam bitches that we're late.”

••••••

Bucky is trying his hardest to pay attention to the case details that Sam is rambling on about, he really is.

But it's hard when his brain keeps going back to the fact that you fell asleep in his fucking bed and stayed with him the entire night. Your naked body pressed against his, your familiar scent of lavender and honey invading his senses throughout the night anytime you'd stir beside him.

When he woke up around two o'clock and realized that you had never made your way back to your own bedroom down the hall, he knew that he should wake you up and let you know that you'd fallen asleep. He knew that's what you would have wanted. But as he laid beside you, listening to the even and peaceful pattern of your breathing, he couldn't bring himself to disturb you - and selfishly, just didn't want you to leave.

You had been clear from the start - your arrangement was to be sex only. And Bucky had been fine with that, truly. He had been in agreement with you. He needed to focus on adjusting to life as a pardoned man post blip, and you needed to focus on healing from - well, he wasn't sure of the exact details. He didn't want to press you too much, but he knew that you had essentially started your life over shortly before he met you.

As happy as it made him to wake up with you beside him this morning, he rationally knew that you wouldn't let it happen again.

And that thought bothers him more than it probably should.

“We've been in communication with Charles Xavier, founder of the X-Men.” Sam’s voice draws Bucky’s attention back to the situation at hand. You sit directly across the table from him, his gaze flicking to you at the mention of your former mentor's name. Your face remains neutral, but he doesn't miss the way your posture tenses. “Upwards of a dozen mutants in their early twenties have gone missing. They have reason to believe that they are being held at a warehouse outside of Lake Placid.”

“That's horrible,” you say with a shake of your head. “So where do Bucky and I come into this?” You sound almost nervous, Bucky thinks.

“The warehouse they are being held at is a former HYDRA base,” Sam explains with a glance at Bucky. “A warehouse that was specifically used for breeding experiments back in the fifties and sixties. The X-Men would like our help with this, seeing as how we not only have someone familiar with HYDRA, but someone who has worked with their team in the past, too.”

You give a slight, curt nod. Bucky knows that you're too much of a team player to argue, but he can read you like an open book - he can tell that you have reservations about this, though he doesn't fully know why.

He has his reservations, too. As if the thought of going into a potentially active HYDRA base isn't enough to put him on edge, knowing that the two of you were going to be working with your former team that you had left years ago only adds to his apprehension.

“What's the plan, exactly?” Bucky speaks up, forcing himself to look away from you and back to Sam.

“First things first, we need to figure out precisely what we are dealing with. We need confirmation that this is in fact where the mutants are being held, and exactly how many there are. The two of you will go to the warehouse for re-con, and one of Xavier's men will be meeting you there. Once we know–”

“Who?” You interrupt, sitting up straight in your chair. “Did he say who will be joining us?”

“Someone named Logan,” Sam answers after a quick glance down at the paperwork in front of him. “Do you know him?”

You go silent, pursing your lips. Bucky and Sam both look at you expectantly as you seem to space out. Sam calls your name in question.

“Uh, yeah,” you answer, your voice an octave higher than usual. “I do - I did,” you correct quickly. “I knew him.”

Bucky's eyes narrow at your out of character response. Normally, you're witty and quick off the mark. Right now, you seem taken off guard - and kind of look like you might throw up.

Sam seems to notice your reaction, but doesn't question you any further. Instead, he awkwardly clears his throat and passes identical folders to both you and Bucky.

Bucky notices the slightest shake of your hand as you grab it off of the table.

“Here's all the information you should need for now,” Sam says. “You guys head out at noon.”

You stand up from your chair and speed walk towards the door without another word, flinging the door open without a flick of your fingers.

Sam gives Bucky a look that says “fuck if I know” before Bucky dashes out of the briefing room after you.

“Hey!” He calls, catching up to you in several long strides. He grabs you by the wrist, effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“Do you want some breakfast? I'm going to order Postmates.” You say before he can get a word out. He glances from your panic-stricken eyes down to the clammy skin of your wrist.

“Postmates?” He asks, appalled that you're asking him about breakfast right now. “What? No. I'm - are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” you raise your eyebrows with a forced looking grin. “A bit peckish, but I'm fin–”

He rolls his eyes at your stubbornness.

“Who’s Logan?” He feels you tense beneath his grasp on your hand.

“He's an X-Man,” you say with a tight shrug before pulling your hand away from his and continuing back down the hallway.

Bucky really doesn't want to pry, or force you to talk about something that is obviously a touchy subject, but he's worried. The both of you are going to have to work with the guy in a matter of hours, after all.

“Yeah, Sam just told us that much,” he continues as he walks quickly to keep up with you. “But what's the deal? I take it you don't like the guy or–?”

You're the one that comes to a halt this time.

“Logan is a good man, and I have no doubt that he'll do everything he can to help these mutants that we're looking for. That's all that matters, okay?” You say in a tone that indicates the end of the discussion.

Bucky doesn’t push the topic any further, satisfied enough with your answer despite the voice in the back of his mind that is screaming that there's more to the story than your brief explanation.

“Now, do you want a breakfast burrito or not?”

••••••

It's actually pretty pathetic that nearly three years of healing can go down the drain with a simple mention of his name.

You knew that you still cared for him. You knew that part of you always would, no matter how much time and space was between you.

But when Sam mentioned his name in that briefing room, you felt as though no time had passed at all. You were right back in your bedroom at the X-Men's headquarters, packing up your belongings to leave behind the only life that you had ever truly known.

And it wasn't because you wanted to. You didn't want to at all, really. But you'd put your heart on the line for someone who wouldn't take it, one too many times. You had accepted that you had no future there. At least not the one that you so desperately craved.

A future with Logan.

“A life with me isn't a life that you want for yourself. I wish you could see that I'm doing this because I care about you. I'll never be able to give you a fraction of what you deserve.”

You remember how he wouldn't even look you in the eye as he broke the last piece of your heart with his words. Just stared at the empty shot glass on the table in front of him.

“You're giving up your last chance to even try.”

The last words you'd said to him play on repeat in your head the entire drive to Lake Placid.

You know that Bucky can tell that something is bothering you - and by extension, you can tell that something is bothering him. He hasn't once mentioned the mission at hand or attempted to turn on the radio, instead opting to drive in a heavy, loaded silence for the first hour of the car ride to the warehouse.

You glance at his side profile from the corner of your eye. His jaw is set tightly and his face otherwise expressionless, but you've known him long enough to know what he's thinking.

“We were together,” you blurt out quickly. He turns his head to look over at you in the passenger seat, his face not revealing his thoughts. “Logan and I. We were together.”

“It's okay. You don't owe me an explanation,” he replies in a stiff voice, his gaze turning back to the road in front of you. You notice his grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“I know I don't. But you still deserve one,” you continue as you begin to inadvertently pick at your cuticles. “If the situation were reversed, and we were about to walk into this with someone that you'd been with intimately in the past, I would appreciate knowing that beforehand.”

This seems to alleviate some of the tension that he's carrying. His grip on the steering wheel slackens, and he looks back over at you with a small smile.

“Well, thank you for telling me.”

“I'm sorry that I didn't let you know when you asked about him earlier,” you continue. “I was just.. taken off guard. It's been a long time since I've seen him, or even talked about him.”

“How long were you two together?”

You weren't surprised by the question, but you still found yourself unsure of how to answer. You knew the true answer would likely lead to follow up questions - follow up questions that would sting to answer out loud.

But over the course of the months that you've been sleeping with Bucky, you've fallen for him. You didn't mean to, and you didn't want to admit it to yourself at first, but it had been a while since you had been able to deny that fact to yourself. No matter how seeing Logan again after all these years goes, it won't change your feelings for Bucky. You don't know what the future looks like for you and Bucky, but you know you owe him honesty and transparency.

“Well,” you start. “We were never really officially.. together. But we were.. involved for a year when I broke things off.” You hope that he can read between the lines of your poor excuse of an explanation.

“Oh,” he answers shortly. You can't tell if your answer made him feel better or worse about the situation. “And why did you break things off?”

You look down at your hands in your lap as you clear your throat. “We wanted different things,” you shrug. “I wanted something more serious and he felt he wasn't capable of giving that to me.”

“Wasn't capable?”

“He had his reasons,” you sigh. “I know he cared for me, he could just never.. get out of his own head long enough to allow himself happiness. I don't hold it against him. It's been years, and I've made peace with it.”

“Were you…?” He trails off, his eyes flickering between you and the road that he turns onto. According to the GPS, the warehouse is just a few miles away now.

“In love with him?” You finish for him. He looks at you expectantly.

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. “I was.”

••••••

The words I don't know why I signed up for this shit keep playing on an endless loop in Logan's brain.

Every time, the words are followed by the image of your face.

He swears he's a fucking idiot. He doesn't even know if you'll be here. The Avengers have how many members at this point, anyway? What are the odds that you'll be here, out of all of them?

And even if you do happen to be here? Then what? It's been three years since he willingly let you walk out of his life. You've made a new life for yourself, found a new job and a family with them.

He didn't think this through, and he knows that. All he can do now is remind himself to focus on the mission, and worry about the rest later.

He can't allow himself to think what if he sees you again. Not when you always deserved better, and certainly do now that he's let so much time pass without even reaching out.

There's two things he's absolutely certain about, however. One, this warehouse reeks of sewage and mothballs.

Two, it's fucking empty.

He had arrived before the Avenger’s members that he is supposed to be meeting and immediately knew that something was off. His heightened senses detected no fresh human or mutant scents, or any kind of sounds emanating from the building.

He slipped through a back stairwell door to confirm his suspicions.

Completely deserted.

“Fuckin' hell,” Logan groans to himself as he storms down a hallway, shoving every door he comes to open to make sure that HYDRA left behind no bodies.

He finds no one, dead or alive, which is both concerning and comforting. He has no idea how, but HYDRA clearly got tipped off that they were onto them and emptied the place out at a moment's notice.

He turns around the corner at the end of the long hallway, going to search for any indication of where they could possibly be transporting the mutants to next, when a voice that he hasn’t heard in years and a whiff of lavender and honey stops him in his tracks.

••••••

“We had to have just missed them. They can't possibly be too far from here. We need to find Lo–”

You come to an abrupt halt when he rounds the corner just a few feet ahead of you. Bucky stops beside you, letting you take the lead.

“Logan,” you breathe. He hasn't aged a day - he looks exactly as he did the last time that you saw him, though that comes as no surprise.

His eyes pause on the small Avengers emblem on the breast pocket of your tactical suit before trailing his gaze up to yours.

Though it feels surreal to be standing in front of him after all this time, the gravity of the situation and the fact that Bucky's arm grazes against yours from beside you helps ground you.

“It's good to see you,” he greets you with a murmur of your name. “I wish it could be under different circumstances.”

Your only response is a stiff nod as you awkwardly clear your throat and turn to the man beside you, whose harsh stare has yet to leave Logan.

“This is my partner, Bucky,” you introduce them, gesturing between the two. “Bucky, this is Logan.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you, bub,” Logan grunts after a pregnant pause. You don't miss the way Bucky's eyes narrow at him at the nickname.

“He always stare this much?” Logan asks when Bucky offers nothing in response other than a curt nod. An almost sadistic smile begins to spread across Bucky's face at Logan's remark, causing you to grab his bicep in a firm hold right as he opens his mouth to respond.

“Let’s stay focused, yeah?” You glance back and forth between the two of them. The entire situation is nerve racking enough, the last thing you need is the two of them at each other's throats. “We need to do a sweep of each level to see if there's any kind of evidence as to exactly what they’re doing and where they could be headed next.”

“Great idea,” Bucky speaks up as he puts his hand on your lower back and angles you away from Logan. “You and I will check out the east wing,” he says to you, moving you in the opposite direction by applying pressure to your back as he begins to walk away.

“And you can check out the basement,” he calls to Logan over his shoulder.

You think you hear Logan chuckle under his breath as he begins to walk towards a stairwell. Luckily, without any argument.

“Subtle,” you mumble as Bucky steers you around a corner and then drops his hold on your back. “Was that really necessary?”

“I didn’t like the way he called me bub.”

“He calls everyone bub,” you snort.

“Does he call you bub?”

“Well, no–”

“Exactly.”

You throw your hands up in surrender, not wanting this to turn into an actual argument. You and Bucky work in silence as you clear the east wing of the warehouse, checking each room for any signs of what has happened and where HYDRA could be heading with the mutants next.

You find over half a dozen small rooms with hospital style beds, each rigged with hand and ankle cuffs. Almost all of them have blood stained sheets, and you have to fight off the nausea that begins to grow in your stomach at the sights and smells.

After clearing all of the makeshift bedrooms, the two of you come to a set of large, metal double doors at the end of the hallway. There's glass paneling on each one, but they're so caked in dust and grime that it's impossible to peer through them.

“Stand back,” Bucky instructs you gently. “I'll go in first.” You take a step back, allowing him to press his frame against one of the doors. It opens with a shrill creak, revealing a large room full of surgical tables, monitors, and shelves overfilled with various vials and bottles of unknown substances.

Bucky enters the room, holding the door open for you to follow him inside.

“We should take pictures of all of this,” you start, glancing around at all of the packed shelves. Bucky lets go of the door, looking around the room with you. “I don't know what any of this shit–”

You're cut off by the sound of the metal door slamming to a harsh close behind the two of you, immediately followed by dozens of glass vials shattering against the cement floor when a wooden shelf collapses.

It all happens so fast that you don't even have time to think about using your powers to stop it.

You both jump back, distancing yourselves from the thick plumes of red and black smoke that erupt from the pile of shattered glass. The room is quickly filled with a thick stench of something akin to vinegar. You burst into a coughing fit as Bucky tugs you away from the wreckage, shielding your face to the best of his ability with his metal arm.

“That can't be fucking good,” you manage to get out in between coughs. The billows of smoke continue to grow higher, effectively blocking you and Bucky from the doorway. To get out of the room, you'd have to walk right through it.

“Maybe it'll dissipate in a sec–”

You're cut off by a sharp stabbing pain that starts in your lower belly and radiates all the way through your diaphragm and pelvis.

“Fuck!” you yelp out, clutching at your stomach. Bucky immediately lunges towards you, preventing you from completely crumpling over.

“What is it?” He asks, panic evident in his voice. “Hey, look at me, what's going–”

He can’t get the rest of his question out before he's letting out a sharp hiss, his hands moving to clutch his own stomach. “Oh, fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth.

“What was that?” You cry. Your legs suddenly feel like jelly, and before you can grab onto one of the surgical tables for support, you're falling to your knees on the hard cement floor.

Before Bucky can manage any kind of response, your head is snapping towards the entryway to the room that's concealed by the cloud of smoke. You can hear Logan calling your name from down the hallway.

“Logan!” You yell back just as another jolt of pain hits your gut. “Don't! Don't come in here!”

But just as the warning leaves your lips, Logan is slamming the double doors open and walking directly into the chemical cloud.

“Goddammit, what the hell?” He yells as he begins viciously coughing. Bucky falls to the floor next to you, his face distorted in pain.

It's as you're looking at his face - his plush pink lips and perfectly chiseled jawline - that your heart rate begins to skyrocket.

Logan emerges from the dark burgundy cloud, looking completely bewildered as he takes in the state of you and Bucky on the floor. His gaze settles on you in concern.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“The shelf fell,” you grunt out, looking over to the smoke that's now beginning to dissipate. “A bunch of vials shattered. Whatever was in them–”

You can't finish the sentence before you're overtaken by discomfort in your groin. You look down at the zipper of your tactical suit, trying to make any sense of what is happening. It feels as if you’ve pissed yourself - your underwear is suddenly uncomfortably sticky and wet.

“What was in those vials?” Logan demands. You look up, frantically glancing between him and Bucky. Logan stumbles backwards, clutching his stomach with one hand as he leans against a surgical table for support.

“It's what HYDRA is using to conduct breeding experiments with the mutants,” Bucky answers in a strained voice. “And now we've all three been infected with it.”

••••••

Logan thinks that for the first time in two hundred years, he could actually fucking die. His lungs feel like they are collapsing within the cavity of his chest and liquid fire courses through his veins. He looks at you, doubled over in pain on the ground as Bucky crouches next to you and rubs circles on your lower back in a futile attempt to comfort you.

Logan has never considered himself to be a jealous man, but the mere sight of him touching you through your tactical suit makes his blood boil even hotter than it already was. He knows that if you had shown up here alone and the two of you found yourselves in this position, Logan would already have you bent over this table with his cock buried up to your stomach.

It's eating him alive - the drug, yes, but also the thought that you could possibly feel for Bucky what you once felt for him.

He knows he has no right to feel this way. Not when he had every opportunity to prevent you from walking away from him, and didn't take any of them. Not when you'd still be with the X-Men today, if you hadn't felt like your only chance at moving on from him was by leaving.

He knows all of this. But the drug in his system is making him really fucking irrational and possessive over someone who clearly doesn't belong to him anymore.

Doesn't belong to him and never did, he reminds himself. He has himself to thank for that.

“She's your girl, is she not?” Logan spits out through gritted teeth. “Don't let me stop you.”

He has to get out of here. He has to get somewhere far the fuck away from you before he -

“Logan, don't be ridiculous,” you groan from where you're crouched on the ground. “We are miles away from civilization. This will kill you before you can even–”

Your voice alone is enough to make his cock feel like it's going to explode.

“Kill me?” He chuckles. “You've clearly forgotten a lot about me, sweetheart.”

He turns to leave the room when Bucky's voice brings him to a halt.

“She's right. They're experimenting on mutants, you don't think they've taken regenerative powers into consideration? This shit has been reformulated to kill anyone with a beating heart.”

“What are you suggesting, huh?” Logan demands at Bucky. He doesn't know if what he is saying is true or not - he just knows that the room feels over a hundred degrees every time he looks at you and that it's a miracle he hasn't sliced this Bucky's guy's neck to get you alone yet. “If that's true, there's only one way out of this. For all of us. Something tells me you won't be okay with that.”

If the way that Bucky glared at him when they first met didn't tell him enough, the pheromones that practically radiated off of him certainly did. He may not know the intimate details of your and Bucky's relationship, but one thing is plain as day - the man is in love with you, and Logan can't blame him for it.

Bucky forces himself up into a standing position, you still slumped on the floor by his feet. He takes a step toward Logan, allowing Logan to see the sweat that drips down his forehead and his dilated pupils.

“Okay with it?” Bucky chuckles grimly. “Of course I'm not okay with it. The thought of you touching her makes me want to choke the life out of you myself, but the thought of you dying and causing her even more pain? I'm even less okay with that.”

“No one is dying,” you exclaim from beneath them, looking up at both of them with bloodshot eyes. “We're going to do what it takes to make it through this. Okay? All of us.”

••••••

There wasn't enough time to overthink it. If there was, this wouldn't be happening.

You were acting on pure instincts - instincts that were screaming at you to keep them both, and yourself, alive.

There's a tiny, faint voice in the back of your mind that reminds you of all of the potential consequences of this - of what the aftermath of this will be like. But then there's a louder, more dominating voice that overpowers it, telling you to give into this drug and save yourself, save Logan, save Bucky.

Bucky hauls you up to your feet, pulling you off the cement flooring by the tops of your arms.

“You sure about this?” He asks lowly, walking you backwards until the backs of your thighs come in contact with a surgical table. It amazes you - how he's somehow able to still be so considerate of you when this drug is ravaging his body, too.

You look back and forth between him and Logan, both of them doing their best to conceal the considerable pain that they're in.

You suddenly find it hard to care about how fucked of a situation that you're in. Not when all you want is to feel them, touch them, taste them both.

Logan walks over to the two of you in two long strides. You perch on the ledge of the surgical table, Bucky and Logan standing side by side in front of you, trapping you between them and the bed. Their scents are overwhelming - Bucky's piney aftershave and Logan's faint musk of old tobacco.

“Order me away,” Logan murmurs breathlessly. “Tell me to leave right now, and I will, even if it kills me.”

“No,” you practically bark at Logan, tugging him down by the tactical vest until his face is just inches from yours. “I am sure about this,” you implore. You drop your hold on his vest, bringing your hand to the zipper at the top of your own tactical suit and ripping it downwards, exposing your stomach and your lace clad breasts. You push the stretchy material away from your shoulders and down your arms, leaving yourself exposed from the waist up with the exception of your bra.

In any other scenario, you would have felt insecure about being so exposed in front of the both of them. But right now, with the drug spurring you on and the way that both of their eyes rake over your figure, it's an empowering high.

“Lay down,” Bucky instructs you gently, restraint in his voice. “Gotta get you out of this suit so we can take care of you.”

You don't hesitate to do as he asks, scooting backwards onto thin foam padding of the surgical table and laying down on your back. Bucky follows your lead, caging you to the bed with his metal arm as he hovers above you on the poor excuse of a mattress. He rips the thin lace material of your bralette away from your breast, immediately attaching his mouth to your nipple. You hiss, arching into the sensation.

Logan stands at the end of the bed, making quick work of shedding you of your boots before shimmying your tactical suit and your panties the rest of the way down your body. He groans at the sight of your exposed, wet cunt.

Bucky pulls away and you whimper at the loss of contact. He grins up at you, and then looks down at where Logan is now kneeling at the bottom of the table. He splays his large hands on your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart.

“Go for it,” Bucky encourages him. “It's only fair. I had her just last night, after all.”

The possessive edge to his voice with the not so subtle reminder of who gets to fuck you now sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, making your pussy clench.

Logan growls at his words - there's no better word for the sound. Deep, dark and guttural, he growls before lowering his mouth to your wet heat.

There's an instantaneous relief wash over you as his tongue licks a thick strip from your hole and up to your clit. He moans into you as you lock your thighs around either side of his head, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin.

You pull Bucky down to you, crushing your lips against his. He brings his flesh hand to your exposed breast again, palming and pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger.

You feel drunk off of the way that both of their tongues explore you - Bucky's mingling with your own and Logan's lapping at your pussy. You snake your hands between your and Bucky's bodies, cupping his evident bulge in your palm through his tactical pants. He thrusts his hips into your touch, but you know it’s not enough to provide him any kind of relief. Your fingers fumble with the buttons and zipper of his pants until you’re able to free his cock. You stroke him in one hand, smearing the pre-cum around his tip up and down his length. His forehead rests against yours as his eyes roll back into his head.

With your other hand, you reach down to where Logan is nestled between your thighs and lace your fingers between the tufts of his hair. It’s all so strangely familiar - the feeling of Bucky twitching in your palm and Logan’s lips locked around your clit.

Despite the time that's passed since the last time he's touched you, Logan still knows your body like the back of his hand. He knows you're close when you start bucking your hips against his mouth, chasing your release with the friction. He brings a calloused finger to the base of your cunt, circling the tip of it in the excess of your juices before slipping it into you with ease. He quickly adds a second, dragging the digits along the velvet walls of your cunt. Bucky captures your lips in his once more as you pump him rapidly in your hand and you feel the coil in your belly heat and tighten when he slips his tongue inside your mouth.

You cum with a cry that gets lost in Bucky's mouth, Logan working you through your orgasm with his tongue and fingers until you've stopped writhing against his face.

“She makes the prettiest sounds when she's fucked out of her mind, doesn't she?” Logan slurs as he sits up on his knees and begins to unbutton his pants. His lips and beard glisten with your slick.

“Tell me about it,” Bucky agrees, pulling himself out of your hand. He helps you into a sitting position and then cups your jawline in both of his face, forcing you to look up at him.

“Which one of us do you want first, huh?”

Drunk off of their words in your post-orgasm haze, all you can do is shake your head. You know either one of them would fill you up just right, alleviating the still present ache in your gut.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Logan purrs as he yanks his pants and boxers down to his knees with one hand and pumps his length in the other. “Gotta tell us what you want. You're the one calling the shots here.”

It's the way that they're both looking at you like they'd do anything you asked of them that gives you the courage to take control of the situation.

“Come up here,” you instruct Logan. Bucky hops off of the bed, giving you space to maneuver yourself onto your hands and knees. Logan crawls around you, until his cock is directly in front of your face.

Bucky takes it upon himself to take Logan's prior position at the base of the bed, stroking himself in his hand as he lines himself up at your entrance. He teases your hole for a moment, unable to hold back any longer as he sinks his length into you. You gasp at the fullness of it, instantly rocking back against him as he digs both his metal and flesh fingers into the meat of your hips.

Logan fists his cock, the tip glistening just inches in front of your mouth. You stick out your tongue, licking up the beads of pre-cum that drip down the head. He curses under his breath, nudging your lips apart with the tip. His eyes flutter closed as you take him in your mouth, inch by inch until he hits the back of your throat. Behind you, Bucky works up to a brutal pace that has you moaning around Logan's cock in your mouth.

“You look so pretty like this,” Logan praises from above you as he cradles your head in his hands, keeping you right where he wants you. “Always been so pretty. You know that?”

You bob your head along his length, bringing one hand to massage the base of his shaft.

It's all overwhelming - the angle that Bucky is hitting your cervix over and over again, and the lack of oxygen from Logan completely filling your mouth and throat.

“So fucking tight, too,” Bucky coos as he loops his arm around your midsection, bringing his flesh fingers to rub your clit. Logan begins to piston his hips back and forth, making you gag each time he rams against the back of your throat. The lack of air has your cheeks stained with a steady stream of tears. “Taking both of us so well. Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

His words send you over the edge, a second orgasm washing over you. You pull yourself off of Logan’s dick, all but going limp on the shitty foam mattress beneath you as Bucky spills into you from behind. Logan keeps a firm grasp on your shoulders, helping to keep you upright as you come down for your climax.

As you try to regulate your breathing, you’re overcome with relief at knowing that Bucky’s going to be okay - and relief at the absence of searing pain in your own gut when Bucky pulls out of you. Relief that is short-lived when you look up to see that Logan’s face is still contorted in pain.

“Lay down,” you instruct him breathlessly. “I’ll take care of you.”

Instead of doing as you ask, he pulls you up to him by the tops of your arms and melds his lips to yours. It hits you that although his cock was just down your throat, this is the first time that the two of you have kissed in years. He tastes exactly as you remember - there’s always an underlying hint of sweet tobacco and bourbon.

Despite the urgency of the situation, he takes his time kissing you. He’s almost hesitant at first, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip as if asking for permission before slipping it inside your mouth. You're vaguely aware of the sound of the metal doors creaking open and then clicking closed in the background.

It's over as quickly as it begins. When he pulls away, he's looking down at you, the pain that he's in no longer visibly displayed on his features. As if your kiss alone was a balm.

“I had to do that, just once. Just one more time.”

And with that he maneuvers himself so that he's laying flat against the surgical table, pulling you across him so that your thighs straddle either side of his hips. You glance around the room, realizing that Bucky is nowhere to be seen.

You can't say that you blame him - with the drugs dissipating from his system now that he's had his release, of course he wouldn't want to stick around for what's to come.

What did you expect him to do, stand to the sidelines and watch? Still, a wave of panic washes over you at not knowing where he's at - physically or mentally.

“I'll make this quick, sweetheart,” Logan murmurs from beneath you, noticing your distraction. “This will all be over soon.”

This draws your attention back to him, and panic is replaced with guilt - guilt that he still has these chemicals making every fiber of his being undoubtedly feel like he's on fire, while you now feel okay.

“Don't worry about me,” you tell him, cradling his jaw in the palm of your hand from above him. You lean forward on your knees, using your other hand to align his erection with your entrance. You sink yourself onto him in one swift motion, gasping at the stretch of his girth. “Just focus on yourself,” you whisper through the burn.

You give yourself a brief moment to adjust to the angle before rocking forward, pulling out almost completely before sinking back down. His facial features visibly relax at your movements, your walls fluttering around his length and alleviating all of his discomfort.

“That's it,” he encourages as you pick up your pace. “Just like that.” His large hands come to grip your hips, helping to move you up and down. He thrusts up, meeting each of your movements with his own. “Feel just as perfect as you always have.”

You can tell he's close when the movements of his hips grow sloppy and his breathing becomes erratic. One, two, three more harsh thrusts and he's spilling into you - his brows furrowed together and his teeth dug into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood if it weren't for the fact that the indentations heal as quickly as they appear.

You let out an audible sigh of relief as you pull yourself off of him, a mixture of both his and Bucky's cum leaking down your inner thighs.

You're okay. Logan's okay. Bucky's okay. Okay being a relative term, of course. But you were all three going to live.

You sit on the edge of the table as Logan stands up and tucks himself back into his pants. He grabs your underwear and tactical suit from where they'd been discarded on the floor and hands them to you.

“You okay?” He asks hesitantly.

“Yeah,” you answer as you slide your panties up your thighs. He looks away, wanting to give you the privacy to dress yourself now that you're no longer under the influence of the drugs. “Yeah, I think so. Are you?”

“Feeling a lot better than I was just five minutes ago.”

The two of you fall into a heavy silence as you proceed to put on your clothing and boots. Logan pulls out a cigar and a lighter from one of the interior pockets of his vest and lights it up. You can't help but laugh under your breath - some things never change.

“Listen,” Logan starts as he exhales a puff of a smoke. “I know this wasn't anyone's fault and we all did what we had to do, but I'm sorry if this causes any issues between you and your boyfriend.”

“You don't need to be sorry,” you assure him. “And he's not my boyfriend,” you add in a smaller voice.

“Could have fooled me,” Logan huffs with another inhale of his cigar. “Practically smelled it on him the second that I saw the two of you together.”

“Smelled it on him?”

Logan takes a step closer to you, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Sweetheart, that man loves you. A blind man could see it.”

A lump forms in your throat as you take in his words. Could they be true? Could Bucky really love you? You weren't naive enough to think that he feels nothing for you - you've always known that he cares for you.

Maybe, just maybe it's possible - possible that you have spent so much time and effort keeping your walls up that you were blind to the fact that he could be in love with you.

“Look, I'm not trying to overstep here,” Logan continues when you don't respond. “I just want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted for you. Just don't make the same mistakes that I did, yeah? If you love the guy, tell him.”

You jump down from the edge of the table, coming to stand directly in front of Logan. Sincerity flickers in his hazel eyes - hazel eyes that you used to be in love with and will always have love for.

But it's different now. You know it, and he does too.

You raise up on the tips of your toes and plant a small kiss near the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you, Logan,” you murmur. “Take care of yourself.”

••••••

The two hour long car ride back to the compound feels eternal despite the fact that Bucky drives a steady fifteen miles an hour over the speed limit the entire time.

After you ran out of the warehouse looking for him, Bucky was quick to make sure that you were okay. After being assured that you were physically fine, he wasted no time in ushering you back to the vehicle and getting the fuck out of Lake Placid.

He knew that you and him would have to have a conversation. He knew that you were itching to bring it up - could tell that you were nervous by the way that you dug your nails into the palm of your hands and repeatedly cracked your knuckles throughout the drive back home.

But he wasn't ready to hear it. He wasn't ready to hear how seeing Logan after all of this time brought up so many feelings that you thought were buried. He wasn't ready to hear how kissing him again made you realize that you couldn't kiss him anymore.

He wasn't ready to accept the fact that the last time he got to fuck you, he had to share you with the man that you'd undoubtedly be going back to.

So when he sees you part your lips to speak from his peripheral vision, he pretends he doesn't notice and quickly turns up the volume to the radio, blaring some shitty early 2000's pop song that sounds like nails on a chalkboard to him.

Anything sounds better than the words that he dreads coming from your mouth.

As soon as the two of you arrive back to the compound, you're both whisked in different directions for medical exams and separate debriefings on what happened during the mission.

By the time he's finished getting the third degree from Sam, and has given a blood sample so that the research team can study the drug that the three of you had been exposed to, he's ready to sleep for a solid twenty-four hours.

But he knows he won't be able to fall asleep with the ten pound brick that sits in the pit of his stomach at the thought of how the next conversation between you and him is bound to go.

He's walking back to his room, practically dragging his feet, when he walks by your door - it's slightly ajar, and light creeps into the otherwise dark hallway from the opening. He pauses to listen, hearing only the soft shuffle of your slippers on your rug and the low volume of your TV, undoubtedly playing one of your comfort shows.

He takes a deep breath before giving a soft knock to your bedroom door. He hears your footsteps approach the door, his heart sinking to his stomach before you can even open it.

“Bucky,” you breathe. He relaxes the slightest bit at the fact that you sound relieved to see him. “Come in,” you tell him as you open the door wider for him.

He enters the familiar, comforting space of your bedroom. You've lit several tea light candles throughout the small space, and he sees that his assumption about your comfort show playing is correct.

“I was going to come check on you in a little bit,” you tell him as you sit down next to him. “Are you okay?” You ask him gently.

He gulps, not knowing where to begin.

“I'm alright, all things considered,” he offers with a forced smile. “Listen,” he continues, suddenly unable to hold your gaze. His eyes flitter around your room, as if he's trying to memorize all of the little details. “I know you're probably exhausted, but I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for what happened today. I'm sure that it was harder on you than it was on either of us. I know you loved him, and I get it if you still do and don't want to continue this now. I wouldn't blame you if you went back–”

“Bucky,” you attempt to interrupt him gently. He ignores it, needing to get this off of his chest before it eats him alive.

“--back to him. But I just need you to know that this doesn't change anything for me. We did what we had to do for us all to make it out of that alive, but I don't want anything to change between you and I. I hope we can.. go back to normal.”

He finally looks back to you once he finishes rambling.

“I don't want things to go back to normal for us.”

He assumed that's what was coming, but it doesn't make it sting any less. He clears his throat, and starts to push himself off of your bed when you grab his hand.

“I don't want things to go back to normal for us because I'm in love with you, Bucky.”

You close the small amount of space between the two of you, cupping his head in your hands and pulling his face to yours. You slate your lips over his and before he can even process what you've said, he's wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you onto his lap.

Because I'm in love with you, Bucky replays on repeat in his head as he kisses you until you're breathless above him.

“You love me? But - Logan - what about–” He stutters out as he stares up at you.

“I did love Logan,” you cut him off. “I'll always care about him, and I'm thankful for what he and I had. Without it, I wouldn't have found you.”

“You love me,” he states in disbelief.

“I do,” you grin at him. “I'm sorry it took me so long to see it. I was so scared of getting hurt again that I let it blind me.” You stroke your thumb over his cheek and he can't help but melt into your touch. He thinks he's fucking dreaming.

You love him. It sounds too good to be true. But he knows you too well enough to know that you wouldn't say it if you didn't mean it.

He can see it in your eyes, just how true it is.

“I love you,” he breathes before bringing his lips to yours once more. He kisses you like it's the first time he ever has - takes his time exploring your mouth with his, he nips and sucks on the swell of your bottom lip with his teeth.

You break the kiss, a playful smile blooming on your face.

“I was about to hop in the shower when you knocked. Would you want to take one with me?”

He can't help but return the smile. “You're inviting me to shower with you? Next thing I know you're going to be falling asleep in my bed on purpose.”

You snap your fingers, and Bucky hears the water from your shower begin to beat down on the floor of the tub.

“Oh, you're sleeping in my bed tonight, if that wasn't obvious.”

DISCLAIMER i promise i love logan howlett with my whole heart!!! ❤️ i don't normally write angst so i wanted to try something a bit out of my comfort zone. it's been a little while since i've written for bucky so that motivated me to gear this story more towards him, but there's plenty of happy logan pieces on my masterlist 🫶🏻💕

[merrycrisis-if]

So is merry crisis not gonna be an if anymore but rather a vn? What does that mean for its progress? I'm a bit worried tbh...

Also i thought you were working alone on it but you keep saying "we" in your new monsoon games posts? I'm genuinely confused about everything. Maybe i missed smth...

Heya! Super fair question, and I get where you're coming from. I love Merry Crisis as it is right now, and I know how concerning it may be to see me spending time "fixing something that ain't broke".

I just want to emphasise two things that I think might reassure you somewhat:

I'm very much still focusing on writing Merry Crisis above all else, and that's always going to be my priority. (I love writing first and foremost!)

That said, I've been giving it a lot of thought, and I do truly believe that my vision for Merry Crisis leans more toward visual novel than it is fully text-based; the reason why I started with COG/HG is simply that it was the thing that got me into Interactive Fiction, and the only language I knew 2 years ago. Now, 2 years later, I can genuinely say that my coding/programming skills have improved, and discovering Ren'py really clicked. Like, I feel in my bones that this is the form of the story that I want to tell, and I'm glad to have it in my arsenal/as one of my options now.

On the second point, I hope it at least counts for something that I am not making the decision lightly, and I genuinely think that when you guys see it in the form I'm imagining, you'll love it too/be as excited as I am. More details / answers to the rest of your questions below the cut.

I'm still going to be focusing on writing merry crisis while I find artists- and even when I do settle on artists, since I won't be the one doing the art (thankfully), writing progress should still be made at the same(ish) speed.

That said, porting to a visual novel format does require a fair amount of editing, and yes, I will need to balance that with writing new content.

As for the actual details of implementation and what language/format I will be updating in, I am currently writing the new chapter in choicescript, and it will be updated in that format for 1 more chapter at least (possibly more). Hope that answers things!

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1312

Chapter 37:

When you walked into the Iron Maiden and climbed the first two steps, you did not expect to hear Jen shouting for anyone other than herself.

"Lilla! Lilia!"

Her shouts echoed across the stone walls, and you let Agatha continue up ahead as you turned and chose to check what was going in.

Yet when you found her hitting her fists against a dirt wall, shouting the name of a certain witch that was not amongst you... you realized.

Your lips pressed against one another, forming a flat line and momentarily you closed your eyes; offering a silent prayer and a moment of respectful peace for the brave witch.

Lilia was not close to you, and the way she often stared at you made you keep your distance from her. But in the end, she cared for the coven; more than anyone.

In the end, she sacrificed herself so the rest of you could move forward; one trial closer in reaching the end of the road and the much needed prize.

A prize, one would start questioning if it was worth it, after all the mental and physical torture... and the losses.

Jen needed a moment to recover, tears being wiped by the back of her hand before she sat down by the steps; trying to process yet another loss.

One that she truly felt this time.

Teen joined her while you stood close. You could have left them behind, go find Agatha, but you chose not to. They needed to mourn, to process everything before being able to continue.

Agatha would be fine, for she was not stupid enough to walk away. Yet you could not help but have this feeling... that something was not right.

"Rio." Jen started, unsure where to start. "Green Witch with a capital G. She told us who she was in the very beginning." She continued, earning Billy's attention, who was not catching up.

"Green Craft is about the cycle of all living things. Growth and decay in constant flow." You chose to enlighten him, leaning against the stone wall with hands folded in front of your chest.

At least you were out of that dress, which was perhaps the only positive thing you could think of right now. That and the fact that you were alive, one trial closer in getting out of this helish road.

Billy looked at you, not surprised you knew. He had come to realise, with your past related to Agatha, that you knew far more than the rest of the coven members.

"So Agatha's ex is Death." He concluded, trying to wrap his head around the idea that death was a woman; one capable of faling in love from the looks of it. "Well, one of her exes." he looked at you again.

You kept your lips pressed to one another. "Pretty much,"

"That makes sense," he commuted. Somehow, it did make sense; though by now, he did question his sanity and mind.

"You knew, didn't you?" Jen asked next, her gaze on your form.

This time, though, she was too tired to judge. Too tired to throw any sparky remarks. She just wanted some more answers. She deserved to know after all the trials she had been through with the coven.

You sighed. "I did."

"And you didn't tell us."

In honour of her grief and Lilia's sacrifice, you chose not to react to her words. "You didn't ask me, not her, not anyone," you replied calmly.

It was Jen's turn to sigh. "No, we didn't." she placed the back of her head against the wall.

Silence enveloped the group of three, no one truly knowing what to say. Some were even hesitant to move, trying to savour as much as they could, this little moment of peace.

Who knew what they would face next? How quick will the next trial come meet them?

As you three sat there, it was then that your fellow witches took notice that someone was missing.

"Where is Agatha?" Jen questioned, looking around but finding no sign of the magicless witch.

"Up ahead. She should be waiting for us, " you informed, one thumb pointing over your shoulder towards the way the steps were leading.

Jen scoffed. "Yeah, right?"

"She knows alone won't do her any good in the trials," you reminded Jen as you offered your hand to pull her up on your feet. "The Road needs us together. It's the only way."

Defeated, she accepted your hand and let you pull her up; surprised by your strength. You definitely did not look that strong...and yet again, you did not look a lot of things if she were to be frank.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Path led you back to the forest, unsure if it was the same place you had started of further down the Road. Everything looked the same, but you did not trail back to question. There was no need.

As you three walked in a line, you could not help but start a conversation. Though the topic was not much to your liking.

"I mean, how did they even meet?" Billy wondered.

"Um, over corpses, I imagine." Jen answered before the duo looked at you.

You sighed. "I am afraid you are asking the wrong witch," you confessed.

"But you were first, right? You knew Agatha before Rio, didn't you?" She asked you next, remembering what Evanora's ghost was saying in the cabin.

Though Jen was still puzzled by that interaction. Evanora hated you, and Jen suspected it was because you had chosen Agatha in the end. But something was telling her there was something more.

Pieces of your puzzle were missing, making it harder to get a good image of who you truly are and what your past is.

"I was," you answered simply, clearly not wishing to continue this discussion.

It was not easy for you either. Your feelings mixed about the topic and you needed time, to finally make a decision about it... to make peace with it.

"You must have really hurt her if her next ex ended up being Death itself."

You took a deep breath at Jen's words. You had chosen not to react so far, simply as a respect to her grief, but even you had limits to your patience.

Billy took notice, and he did not really like how that topic had changed to focus on you and your rather cryptic relationship with Agatha.

And it was not right talking about Agatha behind her back, as if she was not going to show up any time soon.

"Well... I don't care," he joined the conversation. "It simply shows more proof that Agatha has feelings."

His words made you smile faintly, but you hid it from Jen, who you didn't have to look to feel her disagreement rising.

"That was your takeaway?" She scoffed. "I do not understand your loyalty to her. Hers, I understand, but not you. "

"It's not loyalty. It's analysis." Billy quickly defended himself.

"Oh, look who grew up."

"I'm fully aware that Agatha Harkness can never be anything but a coven-less witch."

You did not manage to hide your expression at those words, which seemed to sting you as much as they would Agatha.

Yet before you could ask anything, someone else beat you to it.

"Ouch!" Agatha exclaimed as she came from behind some plans.

Your eyes locked, and you could once again see right through her. You could see that something was odd, something had taken place but you were not sure what.

A part of you told you it had to do with Rio, but you wouldn't put your hand in the fire of it.

One thing was certain, though.

Agatha's mask was back on. Any moments of true humility, humanity, and empathy long gone by now. She had locked them all away once again.

Chapter 38

[robo-writing]

Fic I’d love to write if I wasn’t in a creative rut:

I have reached the point in my life I realize I just have a straight kink for authority/spanking so reader fic where the Reader and Logan are paired up on a mission and they purposefully ignore him and get them into trouble and he’s fucking pissed about it, maybe a throwaway, “I should tan your fucking hide for that.”

Reader just replies with a, “Prove it, jackass.”

Cue when they’re alone that night, reader gets shanghaied and ends up, nude, hands tied, over his knee, Logan ranting as he brings his palm down, not even counting just going until he sees fit

Is this deeply self indulgent and specific to me? Maybe, but oh well, there you go :-3c

It's one of those stereotypes that you see in cheesy porn films—the defiant brat and the strong authority figure ready to give her the discipline she clearly never got before. A trope that's been played out far too many times— —and yet, it's exactly why you're currently like this. The authority figure—Logan in this case, and you—the brat, who in Logan's words: "Needed a major attitude adjustment." And his proven method of adjustment involved you, spread across his lap with your ass laid bare, his to admire when it jiggles beneath the friction of his palm. Each slap has you reeling, thighs pressed together, the shock of it sending you forward until his strong hand pulls you by the hair and forces you right where he wants you. You cry into his thigh, hands white-knuckled into the sheets as he goes on and on, blow by blow, the sound of each one followed by his cruel voice echoing through the air. "Got real quiet when you got put on my lap—" Slap. "Come on, nothing to say? Sure wanted to mouth off earlier." Slap. You can hear the mockery in his tone, voice low. "Don't get shy on me, where's all that fire gone?" Slap. Slap. Slap. You're reduced to sniffling, hiccuped sobs and it's only now he gives you a break. Gently, as if cradling a child, he lifts you in his arms, a hand against your backside as to not aggravate your already sensitive skin. He pulls your hair away from your face, wipes your tears from your face with his thumb. He waits patiently for you to compose yourself, then speaks. "Hey, gimme a check-in, how you holding up?" It's hard to speak at first, voice caught in your chest before you're able to respond. "G-Good, feels good." "Yeah?" Logan affirms. "Really took a beating there." You start to giggle, and he gives a smile in return. "There she is, I missed that sound." You hum, curling yourself further into his arms. He smells like the earth, like a forest fresh from the rain. It's almost enough to distract you from the sting of his hands, but not enough. "Probably won't be able to sit down for a while." You mutter. "Yeah, probably not," he answers, carrying you to the bed. "Shouldn't've mouthed off though."

[beef-brisket]

Adam looked at Lucifer. He felt bad. He didn't want to upset Charlie. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

Adam: ...I'll fix the place up.

When Charlie didn't say anything, Adam got to work.

Lucifer sat next to his daughter in silence. He felt like he should say something. Well, he knows he has to say something. But what?

Lucifer has a habit of making things worse, and his relationship with Charlie is already so strained.

Lucifer: ...Charlie-

Charlie: Why?

Lucifer: I....can't answer that in a way that'll satisfy you. She's... hurt a lot of us.

Charlie: I know... but hurting her doesn't help things. I'm trying- trying to make a safe space here. I can't have fighting here- and she's the Queen, dad! She rules Hell to! I know she's in Heaven... and she... but she's...

Lucifer: I know, Charlie. I'm sorry...

Charlie: ...she won't come back for me... will she?

Lucifer: ...I can't say, for sure, hun... she's confusing, to say the least. I know it might not mean as much- but I'm here. And I won't leave you. Not again. I support you. I support this place and its residents. I won't leave you, Charlie. I promise.

Lucifer and Charlie sit in silence. He's worried he didn't say the right thing as his daughter starts shaking. He can hear her crying even though she's trying to be quiet.

He reaches over and puts his arm over her shoulder. Charlie instantly wraps her arms around his neck. Lucifer pulls her in for a hug, unfolding his wings and wrapping them around her.

Lucifer: I'm here, Charlie. And I'm not leaving. Not again.

Charlie: ...promise...?

Lucifer: I promise. With everything I have.

Lowkey want an au where Adam has Alastors' powers.

The tentacles

The eyes

The changing size

The shadows

The sass

The deal making

Him owning Husk and Nifty

The musical numbers

The radio control

The tentacles- have I mentioned that before?

The rivalry with Lucifer

Maybe he replaces Alastor entirely. No Alastor. Only Adam. It's always been Adam.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

Only Adam lol This is good! His Husk and Nifty could be Lute and Peter.

He doesn't have to smile all the time does he?

Yessss, and he plays rock instead of jazz lol And yes of course there is a rivalry lol

[userautumn]

He knows he shouldn't, but Buck texts Tommy anyway. Once Jee is covered in chocolate and cookie crumbs, once she's drifting off to sleep against his arm with Moana playing softly in the background, he pulls up their text thread with his unoccupied hand and clicks on the message bar. He ignores the grey and blue messages that sit above, messages—warm, kind, and loving—that speak to a happier time and instead chooses to type out a quick message.

Jee misses you.

He sends off the text and then pockets his phone. Slips out of Jee's sticky grasp so he can start cleaning the kitchen before it's time to put her to bed. He's so deep in thought that he almost misses the way his phone vibrates in his pocket.

What did she say?

"Uncle Tommy come play?"

Tommy doesn't respond for a while, long enough that Buck gets to imagine his face, pinched and in pain, with tears in his eyes. Or maybe Tommy's just fine. Maybe Buck is the one pinched and in pain, emotional and so damn sick of crying all the time.

I'm sorry.

Sorry to her or sorry to me?

It's not fair. Buck knows it's not as soon as he sends it, but Tommy replies seconds later anyway.

Sorry to both of you.

Buck stares at the text until his screen goes blank, trying to decide which of the emotions he's currently drowning in that he wants to feel. He settles on anger.

If you were that sorry, you wouldn't have dumped me three days after our six month anniversary.

Never mind.

This was dumb.

I shouldn't have bothered.

Sorry to have bothered you.

Bye.

Goodbye, Evan.

Buck's heart lurches into his throat at the sight of his name on screen, his eyes widening and his breath quickening. An embarrassing rush of hope stirs deep in his chest before he can clamp down on it and it feels like breathing for the first time in weeks. Another text comes through immediately after.

Sorry. It's a habit. I'm so sorry. Goodnight, Buck. Please tell Jee-Yun that I hope to see her soon.

Buck stares for a long moment, then lets out a laugh, thin and mirthless, as humiliation—so much fucking humiliation—crawls up his gut, filling his mouth with bile and shame. Right. He should have known. Did know, probably, somewhere deep down in his gut. But Evan Buckley has always been a dreamer, a believer in the impossible. Even and especially when it costs him.

I'm not going to lie to her.

Tommy doesn't answer, and this time, Buck knows he won't. He slides his phone back into his pocket and stares down at the countertop. His hands are braced on the flat, smooth surface, the fingers of one hand slick with soapy water. He doesn't cry, but it's a damn near close thing. Hell, with the pain currently slicing and carving its way through his chest, he could probably scream with it, but he won't. He won't scare Jee and he won't wake the neighbors, he'll just... deal with it. Like he has been dealing with it, like he always deals with it.

Buck takes a deep breath. Then he grabs the dishcloth he'd thrown aside and walks back over to the sink. Dips the rag in hot, soapy water and wrings it out before returning to wipe down the counters once more. Whatever. All of this is just... whatever. Tommy breaks his heart—he lets Tommy break his heart—for the second time in a row and it's just fucking whatever. Right now, the kitchen needs to be cleaned and Jee-Yun needs to be woken up so she can brush her teeth before he tucks her in, and life does what it does best: it goes on.

He can cry about Tommy Kinard later. It's not like he gets much sleep these nights anyway.

[nakylvr]

hiiii can I request gp!sophia x fem!reader with angst prompt 1 + smut prompt 10 where basically reader just had a huge fight with her ex bf and went to sophia bc she’s her best friend (that she’s also lowkey really attracted to) and sophia tries to cheer reader up (by fucking her) but she’s really sweet and fluffy during it🫶🏼

(sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but I hope you get what I mean😭english is not my first language💜)

bestie this is so good...you made perfect sense i understood completely 🫶 thank you so much for requesting!

— ALL I WANTED ⚓️

sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: angst prompt 1("i didn't know where else to go") + smut prompt 10("don't worry, i'll take care of you") from my 100 follower event OR you have a big fight with your boyfriend and break up. going to your best friend sophia, things take a turn by how she "cheers you up"

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, g!p!sophia, soft dom!sophia, sub!reader, soft sex, lots of praise, unprotected sex, cumming inside

you stood in front of the door of your best friend's apartment. your arms were folded in on yourself, practically hugging yourself as you waited for the door to open. it was cold outside, feeling the chill breeze as you wore merely a thin sweater and leggings. you glance away for a split second, and suddenly the door opens revealing sophia, whose expression quickly goes from happy to concerned at the sight of you.

"oh my god, are you okay?" she immediately questions. "here, come inside. you're probably freezing." she grabs your arm and pulls you inside, closing the door behind you.

"sorry for showing up like this," you apologize quietly as you look down at the ground. "i didn't know where else to go," your voice cracks as you say this.

sophia can instantly tell something is wrong. the first thing being you apologizing when she would never be upset with you for randomly showing up in the middle of the night. second being the way your eyes won't meet hers. and third, the crack in your voice.

"hey, hey," she says softly, placing her hands on your shoulders. "what's wrong? what happened?" her tone is so caring and genuine like she always is with you. she hates seeing you upset to the point of near crying, but she doesn't know how to help if she doesn't know what's wrong.

"it-it's just my boyfriend and i got in a huge fight...he broke up with me and basically kicked me out so...i came here," your voice is quiet as you speak, still not being able to meet her eyes.

sophia's eyes go wide for a second at your answer. but when you finally look at her, eyes filled with tears, her breath hitches in her throat. she can't lie and say she doesn't think this is a blessing in disguise given the fact she's been pining for you for years now, but couldn't do anything with that stupid boyfriend of yours around, cause she does think it. she knows you feel the same, at least she thinks it with the lingering stares you've been giving her more recently and the way you've talked to her lately. she tries to think quickly of what's the best option to do right now, too many different thoughts running through her head as she stares back at you. hesitantly, she moves her hands from your shoulders to cup your face in her hands, seeing the way your eyes subtly widen at her action and hoping she isn't fucking this up. "how about i help cheer you up?"

you're frozen in your spot as sophia asks you the question, and you're not sure how to respond. you don't have a complete understanding of what she's meaning, your mind going in a direction you assume would never happen ever no matter how much you wanted. "what do you mean by that?" you respond quietly.

"whatever you want it to mean," sophia answers in the same voice. "i'm here for anything you need or want."

those words are enough reassurance you need to finally say what you've been wanting to say for a while now. "kiss me," you whisper.

sophia tries to fight the smile that creeps on her face at your reply, but fails miserably as she leans in and closes the gap between you and her. she can taste the remainder of your lipgloss on your lips that you applied earlier in the day, sighing softly against your lips. your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer to you before parting from the kiss. your face is inches away from hers, and your fingers play with her hair as you stare into her eyes.

"you're a really good kisser," you murmur. "how were you planning on cheering me up?" you ask next.

"will you let me show you?" sophia responds. "let me take care of you like you deserve." her hands move to your waist, somehow managing to pull you even closer.

"please," you say in a quiet voice.

that's all sophia needs to hear before she's pulling you to her bedroom, kissing you continuously and almost tripping when she hits the bed. she swiftly picks you up and lays you down on the bed, crawling above you and peering down at you. her hands find the hem of your swearer and she looks at you, silently asking for your permission to remove it. you nod your head, and she slowly pulls it up over your head, leaving you in your bra and leggings.

"you're so beautiful," sophia murmurs, her hands drifting up and down your torso. they stop at the waistband of your leggings, her fingers hooking around it and lightly tugging them down your legs and off along with your panties. "you have no idea how much i've wanted this," she says, her eyes wandering over your body, her cock throbbing in her boxers at the sight of you in front of her. she quickly discards her shirt and shorts, leaving her in her boxers that had a wet spot from the precum leaking from her tip. she brings a hand between your legs, fingers dragging along your folds before slowly slipping two into your wet heat.

"s-sophia," you whimper out when she slowly thrusts her fingers in and out of you.

your walls suck her fingers in greedily, making her only want you more as she pulls her fingers out after a few seconds, needing to feel you around her cock. she strips off her boxers, her cock springing out, the head red and dripping beads of precum. supporting herself up with one of her arms near your head, the other holds the base of her length, sliding up and down your dripping pussy, collecting your slick on her tip. "don't worry, i'll take care of you," she tells you softly. "are you ready?"

you nod your head, whimpering at the feeling of her rubbing against you. "yes- please i need you so bad," your voice comes out whinier than you wanted, but you can't find it in you to care seeing the way sophia's eyes darken at your words.

slowly, she pushes inside of you, watching the way your eyes roll back at the size of her filling you up. sophia curses under her breath at your walls squeezing around her tightly, stopping once she was fully in you. "you tell me when you want me to move, okay?" she presses a quick kiss on your lips.

your jaw falls open as you feel her stretching you out, a quiet whimper coming from you when she stops. you nod again at her words, taking a few shallow breaths before speaking. "y-you can move now."

inch by inch, sophia pulls out before sliding back in, the wetness of your pussy making it oh so easy for her to build a slow pace. "you're so pretty," she says, leaning down and kissing you. "god, you're so tight," she hisses against your lips.

quiet moans fall from your lips as she sets a slow pace, almost embarrassed of getting too loud, whimpering at her words as she kisses you. your arms hook around her neck, pulling her closer. parting from the kiss, you breathe heavily as you stare up at her, biting down on your lower lip to try and keep quiet.

sophia's eyes don't leave yours once, keeping eye contact while maintaining her slow pace. she didn't want to get rough with you in your current state, she was happy enough for this to be happening in general. plus, she seriously doubted your dumbass boyfriend gave a fuck about whether you actually came or not. so she was going to make sure you would. "don't be shy, princess," she pushes some of your hair out of your face. "let me hear you, my love. i wanna hear the pretty noises you make."

your face heats up at the realization that she wants to hear you, finally letting go of your lip from your teeth and freely moaning like she wanted. "sh-shit sophia," you whine her name. you're surprised at how slow and gentle the girl above you is being, as if she was worried she would hurt you when you know she would never even think of hurting you once. but, it was nice. she was right, she was making you feel the way you deserved.

hearing her name coming from you in that whiny tone has sophia's cock twitching in you, letting out quiet grunts with her gaze still on you. "how does it feel, baby?" she asks you, genuine. she needs to know she's making you feel good, she needs to hear you say it. she doesn't know how she's keeping up this slow, almost agonizing pace, but seeing your reactions each time she slowly pushes back in is enough for her to keep at it. "tell me how it feels."

"g-good," you manage out through moans. "it fe-feels so g-good- fuck- you're making m-me feel so good," you emphasize on 'you're' so that she knows that she's the only one on your mind. it was true, you couldn't even think about anything else except for the way she feels like this. you didn't even remember why you came here, and you didn't care, either.

"fuck," sophia breathes out at your response. she can tell you've long forgotten why you originally came to her place, and that mixed with you emphasizing that she's the one making you feel this good has her swelling with pride. "you're so beautiful like this. i love you so so much," she mumbles, not realizing the way her words could sound to you.

you can barely process her words, only hearing the 'i love you', and that alone has you clenching tightly around her cock, somehow getting even wetter than you already were. "i lo-love you too- o-oh my god!" your eyes roll back when you feel her tip nudge against your g-spot. "fu-fuck!" you feel tears welling in your eyes as you feel yourself getting closer to cumming.

seeing the tears in your eyes has sophia cooing at you, cupping your cheek with one of her hands and wiping the stray tear that falls. "shh, you're close, yeah?" she says quietly. she slowly speeds up her thrusts just a little bit, pushing so deep into you that she can practically see the outline of her cock bulging from your stomach making her twitch again. "i'm close too- shit!- tel-tell me where you want me," her words are starting to get interrupted by little whimpers escaping her throat as she feels herself get closer.

you nod your head quickly at her question, murmuring out, "ye-yes," through your noises that are getting louder and whinier. her next words have your head spinning to come up with a response. staring up into her eyes as she stares down at you, you know the answer you're going to give. "i-in me, please, i'm o-on the pill, please cum in me, please," you're begging for her in a way that would be embarrassing to you in any other moment, but you can't find it in you to care.

sophia's eyes go wide when you tell her what you want, but she isn't going to deny your requests in any shape or form. "don't worry, my love," she tells you before kissing you, moaning into the kiss and speeding up just a little bit more.

whining her name as she kisses you, you pull her down impossibly closer to you, your bodies practically pressed against each other. your legs wrap around her hips, bringing her even closer to you. pulling out of the kiss, you rest your forehead against hers, looking deeply into her eyes as short breaths and moans of her name leave your mouth. "f-fuck, sophia 'm so close,"

"go on," she pecks your lips quickly. "cum for me, my pretty girl. so pretty for me like this, god," she groans quietly.

after one final thrust, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you cum so hard you end up seeing white, your hands clawing at her back. not even a minute later, sophia is putting her face in your neck and letting out a long drawn-out whine as spurts of her cum fill you up to the brim. she stays there for a moment or two, breathing heavily into your neck before slowly pulling out of you. a whimper falls from your lips at the feeling, your arms still hooked around her neck and holding her close to you.

"do you...really love me in this way?" you whisper quietly.

sophia pulls her face from your neck at your hesitant question, looking down at you and nodding her head. "of course. i just didn't want to do anything while you were with him," she answers truthfully.

you nod slowly, clearly hesitating about asking the next question you were thinking of. "do you want...to be with me?"

there's a look in sophia's eyes that you can't figure out, as if she's struggling with a response. "yes," she says in a quiet voice.

"then i'm yours," you smile at her, moving your hands to cup her cheeks. "i love you."

sophia's face instantly lights up when you speak, a wide smile tugging on her lips. "i love you too, so much."

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

BEFORE I START

Yes, another story of Curly. What can i do? I love him.

THIS IS ALL INSPIRED BY THIS AWESOME ARTIST THAT I FOUND ON TIKTOK

btw the curly of this story will kook like this so you can already imagine him.

The user is ladonb.kokosa

PLEASE GO CHECK THEIR ART ITS WONDERFUL

That being said. Lets get start with

PART 1 - NEXT

"Cryostasis ended"

"His vital signs are stable"

"Who could it be?"

"Disinfect the wounds"

"There are no more survivors"

"They authorized us to give him the implant."

The man could hear several voices in the distance, he saw silhouettes, shadows, he couldn't distinguish the people around him.

He felt them putting a mask on him to anesthetize him, and everything went dark again.

When he woke up, he saw a woman checking his signs, and he was astonished to recognize her despite some of her physical changes.

She was his fiancée, the woman he was supposed to marry after that trip.

Why did she look like that? She seemed older, but in his sigth, she remained beautiful.

He made some sounds to get her attention, causing her to turn and look at him. She approached and pressed something on his neck.

Curly: "Linda..."

Linda: "...No... Tell me it's not you..."

The woman immediately stepped back, covering her mouth, unable to believe what she was seeing.

She didn't recognize the man laying in that bed in front of her, and she prayed so hard that he wasn't the man she was going to marry, but the fact that he recognized her confirmed her fear.

He could understand the terror on her face, but he didn't know there was something else he didn't know.

She took a deep breath and set her fear aside, sitting next to the man.

Linda: "Curly... If it really is you..." she said, still holding out a small hope that it wasn't him, "You were cryogenically frozen for 20 years... They rescued you because the Tulpar re-entered orbit near Earth before running out of energy, they were able to detect it and bring it back without causing damage, and that's how they found you inside... You have been in the hospital for two weeks today..."

He wanted to laugh as if what he was being told was a bad joke, it couldn't have been that long, right?

But looking closely at her, the small wrinkles now on her face and the few gray hairs she had showed her that she was real.

Linda: "They didn't find any more survivors and... The same press has taken care of paying your medical expenses because they want to hear your story... You have an implant in your neck so you can speak, a voice box, you have to press it if you have difficulties but in a while you won't need to do it anymore... and they did a skin graft... Including some prosthetics..."

She carefully took the prosthetics of his arms and raised them so he could see them, Curly felt like a completely different being.

Linda: "I recommend that you ask for what you want now because... As soon as they find out you're awake... They're going to bombard you with questions and the press will come here, they won't show any mercy."

The man tried to raise the prosthesis and pressed his implant on his neck to be able to speak.

Curly: "What about us?"

Linda: "Oh Curly..." she sighed, "When you didn't come back, I thought the worst... That you were dead... I just keep going with my life... I married someone else, I have two children... There is no longer an 'us'."

Before he could say anything else, a reporter peeked in and made a fuss upon seeing him awake; the place filled up in seconds.

The woman lowered her head and left the room in search of security to throw out the press, but the harassment didn't end there.

Curly chose to give them the answers to the questions they had by scheduling a meeting at the hospital.

Thanks to this, many people started donating things to him, including money to help him reintegrate into society.

But beyond the kindness of people, no one wanted to take care of him and help him, not even the nurses, they said they couldn't spend too much time near him.

Linda took care of him during his stay in the hospital while they fixed up his house that had been left abandoned.

Linda: "I found someone who can take care of you."

She commented while pushing his wheelchair, entering his house, that it looked completely renovated.

Linda: "I don't know if you still remember that I mentioned my younger sister, (Y/n), a couple of times?"

Curly: "The one who lived with your father?"

Linda: "That's right... My mom got full custody of her after a few years, and since then she has been living with her until she became independent shortly after turning 18..." 

Curly: "She was 12 back then..."

Linda: "She recently lost her job, I thought it would be a good opportunity for her. She is very responsible, I promise."

When they arrived in the room, he could see a woman standing and looking at the paintings hanging on the walls.

He had never met his fiancée's sister, but he had heard many stories about her, about how her father unjustly gained custody by labeling their mother as crazy, and since then they had fought to get the girl back.

He had been struck by how incredibly different she was from her sister; you two didn't seem related at all.

Linda: "Good thing you were already here," she mentioned with a smile to catch your attention. 

When you turned to look at them, Curly didn't expect such seriousness from you towards your older sister. 

"...Thank you for the job opportunity, I will do my best to help you," you mentioned, looking at the man, ignoring the woman. 

Linda: "Let me show you where everything is-"

"I've already been getting familiar with the place, it's not necessary, you can go."

Linda: "At least let me tell you which medications you should-"

"You have already sent me a message with clear instructions. I can do this, Lin."

Curly: "You should be more respectful to your older sister."

Upon hearing him speak, you turned to look at him again, without any expression. 

"...Lin"

Linda: "I'll leave, there is no problem. I'm sure you've already memorized everything to the letter. If you have any problem, don't hesitate to call me."

She indicated, she didn't want to make a scene and left without even saying goodbye to either of them. 

"...So you are Curly... It's a pleasure to meet you, I hope we get along well."

You had already made a bad first impression on Curly by treating the love of his life so poorly. 

"Lin left your pill organizer with me, and gave me the schedule for them, it's time for the first pill."

You took a bottle and opened it to take a pill, causing the man to tense up a bit as he remembered moments when he was given his painkillers.

Noticing his nervousness, you tilted your head somewhat confused and went to get something to drink so he could take the pill. 

What a surprise he got when you brought him a cup of chocolate along with the pill. 

"When I was little... I didn't know how to swallow pills, I would choke, so I would bite them... My dad used to give me pills with chocolate milk so I wouldn't have a bad taste in my mouth, don't you like the taste of the pills? These can be very bitter..." 

He thought it was very kind of you to consider that, immediately regretting having judged you without knowing anything about you. 

You helped him take the pills, giving him chocolate to drink slowly, it really helped with the bitter taste. 

Maybe... you weren't so bad.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Obvs it wouldn't happen because imprints don't work that way, but what if Jacob imprinted on CARLISLE?

You're hilarious, anon, that's what you are.

Alright, let's do this.

Jacob Imprints on Carlisle Cullen: A Timeline

The thing is, Jacob doesn't notice for a fairly long time. Remember that Jacob hardly ever meets any of the Cullens until fairly late in the series. In Twilight and New Moon, before shifting, he was extremely embarrassed by his father's superstitious attitude that's so bad it's to the point where he's told the entire tribe that none of them are to go to Forks hospital (which as the closest hospital in a rural area, and one with a now very qualified surgeon that they won't otherwise be able to get to for several hours, this is... a very extreme choice that speaks to just how seriously the Quileute view the Cullen problem).

Jacob meets Edward once in Twilight, at a distance, when he tells Bella at Prom "So... my dad told me to break up with your vampire boyfriend and that the spooky tribe will be watching you :/ ah ha ha ha ha ha".

And then the Cullens are gone until the end of New Moon, at which point Jacob only runs into Carlisle Cullen in Eclipse when the shapeshifters and the Cullens have agreed to join forces to stop the newborn army and to have their solitary training session where they take this seriously.

The Cullens Jacob gets to have lovely interactions with beforehand are Alice at the end of New Moon (in which Alice has some choice words) and Edward who is... Edward.

But not the others.

(The movies where the Cullens and wolves run into each other hunting Victoria, and get into a catfight, is just the movies and was an entirely ridiculous scene.)

What this means is that we've gone through all of Twilight, New Moon, and most of Eclipse. Jacob is pining after Bella, in this torrid love triangle with Edward the blood sucking demon as his rival, has kissed Bella, and has spent an entire novel trying to convince Bella that she's in love with him and "also, don't become a vampire" without much luck on either front.

And now, the worst thing in the world happens.

The Moment

Very reluctantly, the Cullens and shapeshifters have both agreed that the threat is now so large that neither of them can contain it as an individual group. The Cullens have been rebuffed by the Denali who only agreed to help if they got the chance to commit genocide/have their revenge for the death of Laurent.

The shapeshifters, on the other side, hear that a horde of vampires the size of which they have never encountered before (when they're having issues dealing with just one, only one, vampire) is going to descend upon the town of Forks and, with extreme sadness, agree to a) help out the Cullens b) agree that they need the Cullens help on this one.

So, they get this training session (in which Bella shows up because... unclear why she's there, she really shouldn't have been there/really made the impression that they were flaunting the Bride of Dracula in the shapeshifter's faces) and the Cullens all watch as the wolves show up, more than they had ever suspected, Bella oohs over what a big red wolf Jacob is and--

I imagine they freeze, because they were wolves at the time, so they were all in the wolfy hive mind. This means every single one of them knows the second Jacob imprints and get to process it along with him.

Suddenly, Carlisle Cullen is Jacob's gravity, his reason for existence, his everything.

And he's a vampire.

Who is 300 years old. And physically twenty-three years old.

And he's married.

And Edward is right there hearing every thought the hive mind is having.

I imagine Emmett warily asks Edward what's going on. Is everything okay, or are they all about to kill each other and the treaty's off? Edward can't answer because. No. No.

"Seriously, Edward," I imagine Rosalie says, "What's happening?"

(Alice sure wishes she could see what was going on right now, at all, she sure wishes she could help here. Man, it would be great if she could use her gift and wasn't BLOCKED BY FUCKING WOLVES. WOULDN'T THAT BE GREAT?! WOULDN'T IT BE GREAT IF SHE HAD VISIONS THAT COULD TELL HER WHAT'S GOING ON RIGHT NOW?!)

The wolves don't want to answer either as none of them want to admit this is happening (except for Jacob who's still too brain scrambled to react yet).

Jacob, I imagine breaks first. He shifts (and he is... sadly... naked... for this...) and runs over to Carlisle Cullen, the center of his new existence, and happily explains that his universe has just turned on its head and whatever Carlisle Cullen needs from him, JACOB IS THERE, MAN.

Carlisle... doesn't... need... anything...

He's also very confused and alarmed. And can Jacob please put on his clothes?

Edward, reluctantly, explains to his father that Jacob has just er imprinted on him. It's a thing. No, it doesn't necessarily mean romantic love (probably) but Jacob is now Carlisle's.... person. But Jacob's clearly wrong because Carlisle is married and he doesn't need a new son or a friend or anything.

HE HAS HIS FAMILY.

Bella, meanwhile, is shocked, shocked and--confused--and--hurt. Was Jacob gay/bisexual this whole time? But no, Edward just said it didn't have to be romantic. But Bella's also had it explained to her that the imprinter is supposed to be the most important person in the imprintee's life. Sam left Leah so that he could marry Emily when he imprinted on her, and even if it is platonic--isn't Bella supposed to be Jacob's best friend? Wasn't he just telling her how in love with her he was? Hasn't he been the sun in her life?

But because of this single second of imprinting, from a corner Bella never expected... that's done now. Jacob won't be in love with her anymore, all that talk of Bella being in love with him won't matter at all, they'll be less close friends at most and...

And maybe that's a good thing? She's with Edward, she's marrying Edward in a few weeks, she wants to be with Edward. If Jacob gives up, or imprints, then they can stay the way they are without Jacob wanting her to give up on Edward.

It's just that Jacob's most important person will be Edward's vampire dad...

I imagine Sam shifts at this point as... the situation has changed a bit. And tries to get Jacob to calm down and, "We need to discuss this, Jacob" but Jacob isn't having it as the most important person in his life is standing there, staring at him, and clearly wants nothing to do with him.

And Jacob realizes--there's not any room for him. The man has a wife, he has children, WHAT IS JACOB SUPPOSED TO DO?! YOU NEED A BEST FRIEND, DOC?!

Everyone would really love to call off this training session by this point but... that vampire army is coming and they're running out of time.

They have to do this.

They do a speed run and then rush back to their prospective homes where they grill Edward (who has the wonders of spying telepathy) about what the fuck imprinting means and what's happening.

The shapeshifters go home to be extremely upset and try to reason with Jacob who... given how he acted in canon with Renesmee, probably runs to the Cullen's house screaming "CARLISSSSSSSSSSSSSSLE" out of terror that they'll leave in the middle of the night because of this.

Jacob immediately plots how he can stop the Cullens/Carlisle from leaving Forks. In this case, showing Charlie his wolf form would do nothing, as Bella's not the one turned and in theory they could just leave her behind and run if Jacob outed them. Similarly, getting Bella to end up with him and not turn would mean the Cullens would just vamoose.

Jacob concludes, in a moment of horror, the only way to guarantee the Cullens stay is if Bella and Edward get together and then Bella has to stay. Bella's what's connecting them to Forks, what's keeping them from disappearing, even what drew them back in the first place.

And he's right to be concerned as the Cullens are discussing just this. They have to stay through this newborn fight, but then... if it weren't for Bella they'd be leaving as quickly as possible and even then... maybe Carlisle and Esme should just go on ahead? Edward and Bella, do you have to get married right here in Forks/invite everyone from Forks?

Unfortunately, due to that wedding and the pesky detail of inviting Bella's friends and relatives, they really are stuck for at least a few weeks, until Bella and Edward can go off to college.

Jacob's Plan

Jacob then has a few short weeks to convince Carlisle Cullen that he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, he totally needs Jacob in his life, and pffff wife shmife.

So, Jacob does things like just... show up at the Cullen house. He just shows up. And at the hospital, and everywhere, trying to prove how cool he is to Carlisle who is just sad about all of this. He's so sad.

There has been much querying in both parties of "are we sure there isn't a way to get rid of this?" and both the Cullens and shapeshifters had concluded "no, not really, we don't even understand what the fuck this is".

And while Carlisle really wants to just up and leave... it sounds like he'd cause Jaocb mental anguish unheard of for the rst of his existence if he doesn't throw him some bone.

"We can go... fishing..."

(Bella was right in that Jacob has dropped her like it's hot. She hasn't seen him since the training.)

At the battle, instead of guarding Bella's tent in the night, Jacob insists on being where the rest of the Cullens are. Yeah yeah, Edward, have fun with wifey.

(This is not fun as Bella nearly freezes to death in the tent, and as there's no Jacob to keep her warm, Edward just has to sit there, panicking, as he sadly wishes he could warm Bella up himself buT hE's a MonStEr)

There is no "kiss me or I'll kill myself", Bella doesn't even see Jacob when the fighting happens or afterwards. I imagine Jacob's still hurt, (and gets quality time with Dr. Cullen and morphine as he recovers, yay!) and Bella... barely gets to see him then either.

At least Edward's upset about this too and annoyed, if for very different reasons.

Bella finds herself just... ending up with Edward, with no closure on how that Jacob thing would have gone if it would have gone everywhere. Jacob's not even promising to never speak to her again/kill her on sight anymore, he doesn't even seem to care about vampirism as all he wants to do is hang out with Carlisle Cullen, which is.... good? This is good? Is this good?

Jacob doesn't run out of town before the wedding, he's right there, the whole time, hanging out with Carlisle (who is gently trying to tell Jacob that, you know, the Cullens will have to leave this place and your whole family is here so you should... try... to get over this or be... um... long distance).

When Bella becomes pregnant, Jacob only cares that this is clearly stressing Carlisle out who is now supposed to figure out how to birth her demon, alien, horrifying spawn. Gosh, Bella.

(Bella misses her best friend).

And...

Damn.

Basically the rest of the series happens, as Jacob still protects pregnant Bella as he has to protect Carlisle, except that Jacob is imprinted on Vampire Dad and Bella's trying to have a very brave face about this.

SHE AND JACOB ARE STILL FRIENDS! (He just doesn't talk to her anymore...)

[mc-lukanette]

"We're busy down here right now," Sabine said, "but you know the way. Don't worry, she's not contagious."

Luka nodded and headed past the bakery to go up the stairs. He would've gone to see Marinette even if she had been contagious, but it helped that he wouldn't have to get into a debate with anyone over how close he should or shouldn't be to her.

The house, for the most part, seemed as it always did, though he caught the scent of soup in the kitchen. There was a pot sitting in the sink, further confirming the idea, and he checked the fridge to see if there were any leftovers. He needed to know and memorize the contents while he was there, not knowing when Marinette had last eaten or if he'd have to make a trip to get something for her.

When he was satisfied, he closed the fridge and ascended the stairs, knocking on the trap door of sorts leading to her room so she'd know he was there.

"Marinette," he called, "Can I come in?"

There was some mumbling on the other side, but he understood it well enough to know it was the affirmative kind. He let himself in, spotting Marinette laying on the chaise lounge and covered by the blanket from her bed. It might've been better for her to be lying on the bed itself, but when he glanced at the hard stairs, hard floor, and factored that in with how out of it she must be, he understood.

Marinette blinked at him, squinting like he wasn't quite clear in her vision, then snuggled against the chaise lounge and let out a droning, "Heeeeey, Luka~"

"Hey." He smiled. She needed sleep, looked as sick as she sounded over the phone, but was just as beautiful to him as always. He crossed the room to sit on the floor near her, leaning against her sickbed and reaching out to stroke her forehead. "Are your eyes bothering you?"

"Mm-mm." She shook her head, then let out a tiny cough. "Was hard to see past the sparkles."

"The sparkles?" he echoed, concerned. "You're seeing stars?"

"No," she groaned, offended somehow. "You're always sparkly to me."

He shut his eyes, having just been punched in the stomach by pure affection. No matter how close he and Marinette were, he was occasionally caught off-guard when she'd say something so heartfelt.

"The feeling's mutual," he said when he found his voice again, idly brushing aside strands of her bangs that he'd worried might bother her. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Her voice dragged as she thought about it. "Nnnot really? Ate a bit ago and had a drink."

"When was a bit ago?" he asked, suspicious.

Her lips pressed together, not answering. Scrutinizing her expression, he only let the subject go when he determined that it was because she genuinely didn't know the time rather than trying to "not burden him." They were still working on that in their relationship and he'd been guilty of it himself at times, so he was lenient with her.

Pushing himself up just enough to lean over her, he pressed a kiss to her temple. She let out a tiny, pleased squeak at it that he swiftly committed to memory; he'd happily push aside a few of the more unimportant things that he'd remembered from inside her fridge to make room for that cute noise.

"Are you tired?" he wondered, figuring that was the other important thing to check. "I won't go anywhere if you want to sleep."

"Nu-uh." She paused. "Not nu-uh to you staying here. I'm not tired, just dying."

He snorted at the extra rasp she'd intentionally put into her voice at that last word, then moved to sit on the chaise lounge itself rather than the floor. "You're strong. You'll beat this easily."

She looked at him with narrowed eyes, letting out a long, tiny hum. "And you're going to stay right there?"

He didn't know what the emphasis was for, but nodded. "Yeah."

"Mm." To his surprise, she pouted and turned away, effectively keeping her back to him.

Had he done something wrong? "Marinette?"

"It's okay." She coughed, not sounding okay." I'm sick, so I'm probably pretty gross right now. Of course you wouldn't."

Luka racked his brain, trying to understand what she meant, and then he remembered: ever since they'd started dating, he would always offer her cuddles whenever she was in a bad mood, when he felt she needed it, or simply when he wanted to.

He eyed the thick blanket, uncertain, imagining their combined body heat trapped under it. "Wouldn't it be too warm with me and the blanket?"

Not missing a beat, she replied in a mumble, "I'd get rid of the blanket before you."

Her parents almost definitely wouldn't approve of a teenage boy sleeping next to their sick teenage daughter, but that wasn't going to stop him. He took off his shoes before standing up and lifting a corner of the blanket to get inside. Slipping himself underneath, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, relishing in the shuddering exhale that followed.

"Feeling better?" he asked with a knowing smile.

"Much~" She giggled, turning herself just enough to try and nuzzle him. "I was thinking it'd be the perfect practice."

"Practice?" He couldn't help his curiosity. "Practice for what?"

"Spooning!" It was the loudest she'd been since he got there. "We've never spooned before. It'll be important if we ever share a bed to practice."

He had no response to that, though the room suddenly felt warmer. He didn't get how one could practice spooning - weren't they simply doing it right then? - but he acknowledged to himself that it could've been Marinette being a little dazed from being sick.

What he couldn't get past, however, was that apparently she'd thought about it enough that she saw it as important, and even imagined that they might share a bed someday. Did that imply that they'd be living together, or that they'd at least be so close to doing so that they constantly visited each other and slept over?

He sighed affectionately, burying his face into Marinette's hair. They were equals in that neither of them had prior dating experience before each other, but it was moments like these that reminded him of how not used to it he was. He'd given plenty of hugs and cheek kisses to his little sister to show that he cared, but this was so much more than a step up from that.

Even worse was when, a few minutes into the "spooning practice," Marinette started to shift in his arms and call out, "Luka? Turn around."

Despite not knowing what she was up to, he let her go, rolling over in the extremely limited space of the chaise lounge to face the other way. Her arms came around him and squeezed him tight, her breath hot against the back of his neck.

"It's my turn," she said, as if that was an excuse. "How is it?"

Too much. "It's great."

"Great!" She giggled practically right next to his ear, which was a second blow to his heart.

He took a wary glance at the way back into the kitchen, listening closely for any sign that someone might be coming up. After confirming it was safe, he tried to look at her over his shoulder. "But..."

"'But?" she asked curiously.

He twisted around to turn towards her again, despite her whines of protests that it was still her turn. Rather than having her be the little spoon though, he embraced her as she was and pulled her in so their chests were pressing together. The blanket was starting to fall off due to all of the movement, so he took one hand off of her to fix it.

"I missed seeing your face," he admitted, combing through her hair with his freed hand; it was rare that he got to see her with her hair down and intended to take full advantage of the opportunity.

"Wha—ah—buh—?" she stammered, but nothing coherent came out and she opted to hide herself against him. He heard her mumble something that he was sure was "I'd miss yours too," but he smiled and let her think he hadn't heard it.

They couldn't grow up fast enough.

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

"Honey I'm home", but you don't remember taking a lover for tonight. Everything's been hectic and a cults been stalking you down so-

"Honey I'm home", it calls again. Trying out the words in its tongue and its coming from your seaside window. A shadowing voice when you peer out no one's there and the voice quiets down just for a moment. A moment too long, its like the voice was always there, just louder now. Then it went. Absolute silence. Was it only you and the stars when you touch the window?

"Honey, I'm home", but its sick, twisted. Much clearer than you've ever heard it and its right behind you.

There's nothing there again until your eyes clear up and finally recognize it isn't the darkness of the room. Then suddenly everything blinded you, it was bright. 

"Is this a better setting, honey?", the word sounded wrong to your ears, like a needle made to dig under your skin so perfectly, removed then set back into place. A bleeding wound stopped and deepened.

"Who are you?", instictive human curiousity, it slipped out before you could process it. Of course you were curious on whoever broke into your cabin and held your arms by your elbows. A hold so gentle a hold nonetheless. You didn't want to look up. He was most definitely taller than you and you could already feel his stare on the back of your head. Like he could see your soul.

"Mine?", he said it so simply too as if it was meant to be. It wasn't an answer, a statement that chilled your ears. Arms in mindless unsynchronization moved up your elbows to your arms, sliding and feeling under the cloth. Pressing down your elbows and circling around and gentler to your neck. Featherlight yet all surrounding, like his skin couldn't ever part from yours,  "Mine", he said again feeling the word out. Like it was right, it fit into your mind like gloves to his hands. 

"I think you have the wrong person", you must be. you don't remember meeting anyone taller than you nor anyone at all, you've been locked up in the past few days.

"Is that so?, then why won't you look at me? Let me see you", he's torturing you he must be. Like a pawn in his circus. The only way out was to play. So you turn to look at him and everything's all dark again, you can't see anything but those killing eyes. Pin sharp to the surface of your skin and skinning the surface when his hands slide down to the very top of your ribcage.

"Ah that's right, you must not be mine", he says noncommitally, as if you were an insignificant being. He was in a way much more significant. A height that towered over you, you could count his eyelashes when they were backened by the whites of his eyes. His hands released you and you didn't even realize you were holding in any breaths until you were heaving, unrelenting voice in your mind to never show your back to him. 

"I'm yours", his hands clasp around you again like a vice, holding you by your waist. Firm, tight grip that feels up every inch of your body without moving. Pulling you closer by a hand that just feels right at the curve of your spine. Hugging you softly, gently and clutching onto you like you were the first gift he's ever gotten.

A voice brushes over your eyes like a spell that puts you steadfast to sleep. In a moment's notice your body's not yours anymore. Turned into a doll you can feel through while he pets your hair like one. 

[ipleadbritney]

could we please have ↻ FLIP FLOP for the first kiss scene in three-sixteenths???

thank you dear!!! 💕

- kitty 💕 (aka three-sixteenths’ biggest fan)

for @utopiastri who's really the sweetest!! ask game post here thank you for letting me revisit three-sixteenths in oscar's pov!!

3/16 the first kiss, flip flop

“Uncomfortable?” Lando repeats. 

“With my magic. I don't want to make you throw up, or, you know.”

Oscar himself is one wrong move away from throwing up, actually. Yesterday threw him in for a spinner. Every time he blinks, he conjures up the walls of Monaco around him, waiting and waiting. 

He hoped to get some rest today, to let his magic stretch over the new place. Nico Rosberg mentioned in an interview once how telekinesis in Monaco is different. Everything's lighter. Oscar wouldn't mind trying it. 

But Lando called, and, well. Oscar was already skimming teleportation crash guides in the middle of their call.

Lando and curses is a horrible combination. It's taking everything in Oscar not to panic.

Lando clears his throat. “I asked you to come here so you could probe at it. And I'm not throwing up. Magic reflects the person, right? I answered your call for a reason, and I'm glad I did.”

How can Oscar not panic when Lando just says the sweetest things like it's nothing?

But someone has to be calm between the two of them, and Oscar's not going to pass the responsibility on the person who's cursed.

He rubs at the empty space where his suppressor usually is. Calm down. “I'm glad you answered my call, Lando. I really am.” 

Better him than anyone else. If Oscar's right, then—

True Love's Kiss is a powerful spell that has wavered in popularity in recent decades. Most historians agree it is common for any spell to have crests and troughs. This particular case, however, has stumped some of the wisest living magical minds. 

Has humanity polluted our world to the point of a Great Spell extinction? Do we even need True Love's Kiss anymore?

Oscar forces a smile, ignoring his thoughts. Not much a textbook can help them with, right?

Lando smiles back. Oscar loosens up. 

Maybe it's not True Love's Kiss. 

What if it is?

It doesn't have to be. Oscar can just kiss Lando right now. Fix the curse after. Free Lando's wrist. Explain somehow along the way that he like Lando enough to think he'd break True Love's Kiss if it came down to it.

It won't. 

Lando's phone vibrates and lights up with a text notification. Oscar barely makes out the name Charlie. 

“Aren't you going to read that?” Oscar asks.

Lando shakes his head, still smiling. Dazed. “No, it's probably a stupid notif—” he checks his phone “—fucking finally, Charlie's awake.”

He's mouthing the words as he reads them, something that hasn't escaped Oscar. Cute, of course, but also. The text can't be that long. 

Lando sits up straighter. He's re-reading the text. Again and again.

Worry's bubbling up inside Oscar. Unfortunately, his worries have a nasty way of materializing through his magic.

So does Lando's. There's buzzing in the air, like static TV.

He tightens the control on his magic. He won't be of any help to Lando if he's a mess on his own.

After what must've been the 20th re-read, Oscar asks, “What did Charles say?”

“I need to kiss someone Italian. To break the curse, I need to kiss someone Italian.”

Lando all but throws his phone to Oscar for him to check. Charles’ texts confirm Oscar's suspicions, or at least part of it. Being right is such an overrated emotion. 

Can TLKs be bound by other conditions apart from the whole yeah you're my one true love? Kiss-curses that aren't TLK are even rarer. Leave it up to the Monaco Grand Prix to attract generational magic users who can randomly cast a kiss-curse.

What if Charles misheard it? Misunderstood. Mistranslated. 

What if he didn't?

“I hoped it would be different,” Oscar starts. “Not that you'll have a hard time finding someone Italian to kiss, no, but uh, Sophie will have our heads. Because it'll cause a riot, maybe. Then they'll resurrect us so Sophie can have our heads again.”

Please let the floor swallow Oscar whole.

“Thanks, I guess?” Lando says, and his face is so open, you can see every single emotion he's feeling right now. 

Oscar wonders if Lando can read him the same way. Like how he's no longer surprised when Oscar sticks close to him in public, anticipates it. Leaves a little bit of space for Oscar to slide through. It's the type of understanding and clarity Oscar's always wanted.

“You know, I'm 3/16 Italian,” Oscar blurts out. 

Lando half-splutters, half-laughs. “You don't have to cheer me up, Osc."

“I didn't say it to just cheer you up. I'm here to help. That's why I'm here, yeah?”

For the first time since coming here— which is the first time he's ever been in Lando's apartment and everything is Lando Lando Lando —Oscar's mind is clear. 

“Reckon it'll work?” 

“Won't know if we won't try."

Oscar can still backtrack. He can salvage the threads of their professional relationship. Nevermind that their professionalism has turned into Lando practically sitting on his lap during meetings because his seat doesn't “seat right”. 

But Lando's beaming. “Sure. Let's do it.”

Huh. It can't be that easy. It can only be that easy if Lando likes Oscar back. He doesn't. Probably. “Oh, okay.”

Nothing happens. Is it up to Oscar? Well, Lando's handcuffed to his bed, so. Oscar needs to, good God. Oscar needs to.

“Do you think it's supposed to be, like…” Oscar took three magic-related electives and none of them talked about breaking possible kiss-curses.

“Kiss on the mouth?” Lando’s smile grows even wider. Does he? Like Oscar back? “You're the magic nerd here.”

“I'm really not.”

“Go big or go home,” Lando says.

Suddenly Lando hooks a finger on Oscar's collar and pulls him closer. Oscar kneels in front of Lando, one of his legs bracketed by Lando's thighs. Lando's pretty like this, looking up at Oscar. 

Oscar touches Lando's cheek. “This okay?” he murmurs.

Lando closes his eyes and leans into his touch. Nods.

Oscar presses a soft kiss on Lando's mouth. The buzzing's gone, has been for a long time, maybe. 

He pulls back just the slightest, but Lando's kissing him. Oscar is reeled right back in, deeper this time. Lando holds him by his waist. Gentle but secure.

Oscar's dreamt of this before, but those didn't. Get the details correct. Lando's sighs. His taste. His magic.

Fuck, Oscar's own magic. He can feel it slipping out of his control.

Lando parts open his mouth, a permission for Oscar to take. How much can Oscar take? How much is he willing to take?

There's a clicking sound and a wash of strange magic, bursting then fading away.

The handcuffs. Oscar almost forgot about that. 

They move apart, which is a bit hard with Lando's fingers curled up in his shirt.

The curse leaves behind a cloud of gold and green glitter. A few specks land on Lando's nose then melt off. 

“I'll call you first if I ever get cursed again,” Lando says, laughing. There's a halo surrounding his head. Oscar's magic. 

“I'm 1/16 Chinese.” He returns to his spot at the foot of the bed. “Call me even if you're not cursed?” 

“Don't jinx it, mate.”

Oscar's not going to jinx it. No hexes or curses or any love spells, either. He doesn't trust his magic to not influence Lando. He puts his suppressor on, and it sucks the fucking air out of the room. 

“Sorry,” he tells Lando. “It's, I've got my suppressor back on.”

“Yeah, why?”

“Broke the curse already, didn't we?”

Lando tilts his head, assessing. “We did.”

What do they do now? 

Lando takes the lead, as he usually does. “Want lunch? I'll reserve us a spot, so don't leave. Give me, like, 15.”

As if Oscar would ever say no to lunch with Lando. “I'd like that, sure. Let's get lunch.”

If it hadn't been a kiss-curse, they would've probably kissed some more. Oscar tries not to be too hung up about it.

[amusingmusie]

“You don't want it to end this way.

"What is going on? Tell me, Alastor, tell me now before this is ruined beyond repair! Give me answers! Talk to me!" you implore Alastor who looms in the doorway. Inky black shadows hover around his lean form, quivering and warbling while he twitches with the effort to come after you.

The edges of his lips curl upwards painfully. "If you have to ask-"

"No, fuck you. You don't get to finish that line. I'm done. Alastor, you're being unfair. This isn't funny. You're being mean."

You slide the engagement ring off of your finger and sling it at his feet.

It's done.

"...Are you forfeiting?" he asks softly. Something nasty is simmering beneath that gorgeous grin and honey eyes, you can tell. You're not blind to it, not now. "You signed the contract. You're playing the game until you admit defeat."

"No. No, you don't get to win." No, you won't give up and hand him this unfair triumph. Maybe he won this battle with your retreat, but he hasn't won the war. "I'm just done for now. Done until you can explain yourself and this mess, done until you'll hand over your secrets for me to hold."

A beat.

A breath.

A frown.”

Here you go, I spent way too long on this, it was supposed to be a comic, but I got really lazy. I wanted to say how much I enjoyed reading your story. I’m not an avid fanfic reader, and (in fact I think this is the only one I actively follow), but your story really drew me in, pun intended. Anyway, I wanted to draw this because that scene had me in a chokehold for the past week, and I succumbed to my self indulgence.

Also notes on the drawings;

1) The second panel is my favorite

2) Nel’s hair keeps changing size and I’m just realizing that now as a write this and it’s really pissing me off

3) I’m insanely proud of myself for drawing Al’s shoes, I’ve literally never rendered shoe before so I’m surprised it came out so good

4) The last panel was a pain in the ass because I couldn’t draw Al right without making him look stupid, hopefully I did him justice lol

(Btw the razzledax name is my alt account, I was planning on showing you this with that account because it’s for fan art, but apparently I can’t do that because I’m dumb and don’t know how to ask questions with my other pseudo. I’m no art thief!! Fuck that shit)

Consider my jaw officially dropped and on the floor. Holy SHIT. This is beautiful. Wow. Wow wow wow wow. Thank you so much, I'm quite literally honored to receive this.

[yoonia]

Hello^^

This is your annual (monthly) psa from little old me.

I'm sorry for being MIA. I had a ton of fun with my birthday bash event on October and I love that I ended up writing a couple of new pieces at the end aside from giving you guys some lovely moodboards to enjoy, which was a blast.

Unfortunately, on the final days of October, I started getting an allergy reaction from some of my meds, which led to me getting a weird skin infection appearing on my right arm and with a terrible inflammation on my upper arm. I also experienced a symptom similar to carpal tunnel syndrome which I got from hours of designing and drawing for work during the day and playing with canva and photoshop and writing on my computer at night, so I had to take a long break as soon as I finished my event and November came around.

To top it all, I think I'm a bit burnt out. I've been releasing a ton of things since August, and my mind (and I guess, my body) is asking for a break. I've been taking some time off from the internet and Tumblr because of this and have been focusing on recovering (bc your girl has bills to pay and I can't draw anything with this arm *sobs*).

I'm still recovering right now, with my arm still sore and hurting, but I'm slowly getting back to writing and creating some stuff again as I'm doing NaNoWriMo independently (without the site). Here's where we are at so far:

— Nefarious, that was planned to be released at the end of October, is about halfway done. I'm currently focusing on this one to release as soon as I'm done with it (because this won't be the last instalment from In Motion and I want to get the other out on December). Thanks to my break, I was able to open the draft with fresh eyes and...hated at least most of the things I wrote last month lol. so I'm in the middle of rewriting this and I can say that I'm making better progress with this so far.

— Carousel is still on rewriting process, with its weekly update continuing on Wattpad starting this month.

— The Bedroom Hymns is also on progress. I can only write for an hour or two each day due to my condition, so progress has been slow, but we're getting somewhere. I think I can release the new chapter right after Nefarious is released.

— Ever A Never After is continuing. Again, it's a slow progress, and I might release it sooner on Wattpad as small chapters if it comes down to it.

— I have a surprise project to release soon. I'm not sure when it's coming, but I'll be announcing it when I'm ready :)

That's all for now. Thank you for your patience and for making things fun for me back in October that you've given my a lot of motivation to write some new fics. I have a couple of messages waiting for me in my inbox which I'll be answering as soon as I'm available (again).

Be back soon! Take care, lovelies <333

xoxo, Dia