#ideas that make me crawl on the ceiling

[thesummerestsolstice]

There's this implication in Tolkien's writing that half-elves are kind-of immortal by default, and that they stop aging unless they choose mortality (though arguably they don't even really age then). See Arwen in the Lord of the Rings, who is several thousand years old and has clearly been living life as an elf, despite never having made the Peredhel choice.

I always wondered why Arwen was given that choice, actually. It seems like the Peredhel choice is mostly given to people who have a mortal parent and an immortal parent (Earendil, since Tuor was definitely mortal when he was born, and arguably Elwing depending on how you see Dior), or at least parents who are undecided (Elrond and Elros are born before Elwing and Earendil make their choices). Arwen is a fair bit more than half-elven, and has two immortal parents. And there's not really any evidence Elros's children got the choice. Why does she get to choose whether she wants to be mortal or immortal?

Now, this could just be some minor world building weirdness, but it raises another very interesting possibility. That Elrond, by the time his children were born, had not committed to being immortal, and was instead undecided. I feel like there's so much to explore in that idea. Maybe Elrond truly wasn't sure about his choice to stay immortal forever until much, much later in his life. Maybe he held off choosing specifically so his children would be able to. Maybe he didn't choose because he didn't want to have to pick between being an elf or a man, and just wanted to be a half-elf in peace.

There's also something very compelling to me about the idea of an Elrond who could have, at any point during the Second or Third Ages, decided to be mortal. Who could have left the grief and struggle of Middle-Earth behind forever, and who, nonetheless, always chose to stay; picking immortality, not once, but a thousand times over the course of his long life, no matter what difficulties he was faced with.

It would also be interesting to explore the idea that most of the people in Elrond's life assume he decided to be fully elven long ago, only to realize that that isn't actually true. I imagine it could be disconcerting, maybe even really anxiety-provoking to realize that someone you were certain would be around forever might not be. I also think it would be really hard for a lot of elves to understand why Elrond might not want to make that choice.

[screampied]

horny reader sending toji soapy titties pics when he's out so he gets home and makes her cum by just playing with her nipples and talking her through it :3

۫ ⭒ toji talking you through an órgasm after you tease him with pics while he’s at work

warnings. fem! reader, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, praise / mdni.

you always loathed whenever toji had work, meaning he’d be gone for so many hours.

boredom always overtook you.

you’d be laid on the bed, specifically his side of the bed while having a staring contest with the ceiling. nevertheless, you get an idea so you decide to take a nice relaxing bubble bath. with a good thirty minutes of straight silence—you reach for your phone, snapping a good two pictures of tits. the pretty bubbles of soap that ran down, you bring a hand up to give your nipple a soft squeeze as the camera flashed before sending it to toji.

giggling, you watch as the message immediately goes straight to read, meaning toji opened your picture immediately.

of course, it took toji about thirty seconds to actually reply — all he replies with is with a subtle, “That’s cute. I’ll be home in a few.”

deeply in thought, you pondered what that was about, you just couldn’t wait for toji to finally be home. you clearly missed him and even changed into something pretty for him.

nothing too risqué….

just one of his oversized shirts, you knew he loved whenever you walked around with nothing but one of his clothings. after drying yourself off and moisturizing with candied smelling lotion. you crawled back into the bed and as if right on cue, toji came through the door.

“toji!” you’d beam, stretching your arms out and about to hug him.

“nah baby, don’t touch me.” he grumbles in a gruff voice—you took in his scent, a strong rousing cologne scent that left you craving for more. he got into the bed and you gasp once he lifts up your ; his shirt. “you know you’re in trouble right?”

you grow quiet as he snuggles up against you, sliding off his shoes before bringing your straight into his arms. “what for?”

“girl,” he utters in a rasp, you let off a soft moan once toji drags you towards his lap—you’re facing the opposite way of him, and a rough hand of his grabs onto your right tit. “you’ve got some nerve, princess. not only were you touching yourself while i wasn’t here, but you also sent pictures of yourself to me while i was at work,” and you start to softly pant, feeling him swipe a thumb against your perky nipple. “what if i was around people huh? and they saw my cute baby all exposed ‘n provocative?”

“i’m…s-sorry, you huffed out a frustrated breath. his touch was so warm. you started to feel yourself getting heated, in that kind of way. the way that makes you drenched between your thighs. “you were gone all day ‘n i thought i’d show you myse—”

“i understand princess but you shouldn’t be touching yourself in the first place,” and for a moment his voice grew smooth and tender—you slump your head back against his chest before he moved his free hand towards between your legs. “what’d i tell you about touching yourself, girl? besides, ya can’t even do it properly.”

you heard the low snicker follow shortly afterwards, and he was so smug and condescending.

“ya can’t even touch yourself right, what makes you think you can make yourself cum?” he murmurs against your neck before playfully licking a stripe against your tender skin.

you start to whimper, feeling him squeeze against your left breast, another rubbing against your panties.

“i-i can.” you pout, intaking a sharp breath from the sheer warmth to of his touch.

“baby, y’er fingers are fuckin’ useless,” he chuckles. you frown from his teasing before you let off a soft moan once you feel toji’s thick fingers graze and brush against the middle part of your panties. “gotta do everything for you,” he sighs, planting a kiss against your collarbone. he felt you breathing back against him. you gnaw on your lip as toji’s still playing with your breasts. “did you touch down here?”

your breathing continued to pick up, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a brief second. “um, no.”

“um, yeah,” he hisses. toji’s jaw tightens and you let off a needy mewl once he runs a thumb down your slit before feeling it slowly sink in—you’re so wet it happens so easily, and your heads just lazily laid back against his chest. “if you didn’t touch yourself, how come you’re all drenched?”

“i was—”

“dumb soaked liars shouldn’t speak,” he cuts you off, and you moan once he presses a little pressure against your hardened nipple, feeling a bit a few droplets of water trickle down. “i don’t hold grudges though, especially not with you, baby,” and his words were tame and smooth right against your ear. “but i feel kinda bad. least i can do is give you an orgasm huh? ya want that, princess?”

you sniffle, giving his wrist a firm tug. “yesyes, please. touch me more.”

“shouldn’t do shit after that little slutty stunt you pulled,” he growls, and you moan once he starts to maneuver small circles against your cunt—two fingers now softly making its way inside. toji’s got your panties shoved to the side and your bottom lip quavers. “but…i don’t wanna make my baby more needy than she has to be.”

“toji,” you’d sulk, and the warmth of his breath forevermore continued to blow against your ear whenever he laughed. “make me cum, p-please.”

he was so smooth with his fingers, adding just enough pressure to where you’re feeling yourself grow hot and bothered each second.

“no one should see these girls but me,” he snickers, giving your nipple a soft squeeze. you were so sensitive, especially there—yet he knew that. “her too.” toji coyly grins, the top of his fingers prod against clit as he feels you bare around his digits. “can’t leave ya by yourself can i? i can just imagine how many others times you were here waiting, playing with yourself, hmpf.”

“it— it was just this one time.” you moaned, immense tension building up. a sudden breeze of from the cool air danced against your skin. toji smiles, knowing each exact angle to hit you with his fingers.

you remain sojourned against his chest, and toji brings his chin towards your right shoulder—you conceal an incoming moan once he’s just lightly ramming his fingers in and out of you. it’s sloppy, the plethora rings of squelches sang in harmony and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last. “and it’ll be the last right, baby?”

“yes. promise, toji please.” you’d hiccup, and as he still has one of your breasts in the inner depths of his hand, your legs trembled in longing desire.

“okay,” he purrs, nipping a kiss towards your neck. you pierce your nails into his arm before after a few long tension building moments. you cum, and you cum hard. you eye sight hazy, swallowing thickly you panted heavily. “good girl, good messy girl. relax.”

you huffed and puffed quietly, legs stuttering and shaking with such pleasure that you’re at an almost lost for words. so embarrassing you could barely pronounciate his name. your words broke and broke. “t-to-joiiii.”

“poor baby,” he whispers, fingers still shoved into your pussy. it stays there for the time being before you feel him curl his index finger just a few inches upward towards your sweet nub and you choke out a cry. “ooh. that’s a good little girl,” and his praises went straight to your heart. toji’s hand caressingly trailed down your chest towards your tummy before clearing his throat. “this won’t happen again, will it?”

“m-maybe.” you slur, and you’re taken aback once he turns you over to give you a chaste kiss.

toji stares at you before groaning. “thought you’d say that. what a fuckin’ shame,” and you gasp out a noise once toji makes you land on your chest before giving your ass a playful spank. “i’ve been too nice, princess. now i gotta really show you what your pictures did to me. so arch for me.”

[dreaming-medium]

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 8

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Breeding - Bang Chan

Word Count: 8.4k

Summary: Your family’s yearly vacation is here and once again, you’re single. To avoid having your dating life be poked and prodded by your relatives, you decide to turn your best friend for a little help. Everyone already knows him! What’s the worst that could happen if he pretends to be your boyfriend for the week?

—————————————————————————

“It’s going to be a disaster,” you lament, leaning your head back over your couch. Your coffee mug gripped tightly in your hand.

A random movie is playing on your TV, but neither you nor your best friend are paying attention.

“It will not,” Chan chides and nudges your arm with his elbow.

He sips his own drink slowly, watching you throw your arm over your eyes.

“Yes it will! Every year my family goes on this vacation to the mountains, and every year I’m reminded that I’m the only single adult in the family.”

You sigh.

“You’re not the only single one, what about your cousin?”

“He started dating someone about a month after last year’s vacation. They’re still together, so she’s coming on the trip.” Your tone switches to something less dramatic. “She’s lovely, by the way, you’d like her. Very friendly.”

Chan laughs. “So, you’re single and alone there, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s your family. ”

“They make fun of me the whole time! And if I do anything my mom doesn’t like, she’ll go ‘this is why you don’t have a boyfriend, Y/N.’ Ugh!”

“Aren’t there only four ‘older’ cousins?”

“Yes, and I’m the only single one above the age of seventeen. I’m twenty four and I am going to die alone.”

Your arm drops from your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling.

The air in your apartment is warm and comfortable. Candles burn on the table beside you, filling the house with a pleasant warm cinnamon scent.

It was always one of Chan’s favorites.

“How long until the trip?” he asks.

“Next weekend.”

“Not enough time for a dating app, huh?”

You force a laugh, “No. Can you imagine? ‘Coffee was great! You wanna come on a week-long vacation with me and my giant, loud family?’ They would run for the hills.”

“Your family is great and you know it.”

“I know, they’re just… obnoxiously close, that’s all. I love them, don’t get me wrong.” Your arm slides off your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling. “But if I need to listen to my aunt nitpick my appearance in passive aggressive ways to ‘help’, I might kill myself.”

Chan takes a long sip of his drink. “They’re not that bad.”

You roll your eyes. “They love you so much, what would you know? Every time I bring you around them I always get tons of questions afterwards about you. I think my cousin is in love with you.”

“Which one?”

“Lily.”

“She’s twelve.”

“Twelve and in love with you.”

Both of you sit in silence for a moment. Chan’s attention slides back to the TV. He’s looking at it, but he’s not absorbing what’s really playing.

Same with you, you’re too busy wrapped up in your thoughts when an idea hits you all of a sudden.

“That’s it!” you yell, sitting up straight. Your voice startles Chan and he almost spills his drink all over your couch.

“What? What’s it?” he asks quickly, checking his pants to make sure nothing spilled.

“You can come with me!”

“You want me to go on your family’s yearly vacation in place of a boyfriend?”

“I want you to come on my family’s yearly vacation as my boyfriend.”

Chan’s head snaps over to you, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. You’re already looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Please, Chan!” you beg before he has a chance to say no. “Please, please, please!” you repeat over and over again.

Placing your coffee on the table, you crawl closer to him on the couch, begging over and over again.

“They already love you so much! It would be so easy ! Plus, it’s all expenses paid! It’s a free vacation to a lake house in the mountains with your best friend!”

“Felix isn’t going.” Chan teases.

You whine and grab his free hand. “No, me! Your best friend! Pretty please Chan! I’ll owe you big time!”

He stares at you for a long moment, thinking it through in his head. You’re staring at him with big, pleading, sparkly eyes. He’s never been able to say no to that look.

He sucks his teeth, head cocking to the side for a second. The hand in yours twitches and he holds it, like a faux-shake.

“Fine,” he says. “But, you owe me dinner.”

Squealing, you throw your arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He wraps his beverage-free hand around you and hugs you back. “You’re seriously the best, thank you!”

“I know, I know. Now can we please finish the movie?”

——————————————

The trunk to your car slams shut, Chan dusts his hands off and then rests them on his hips.

“You look like a dad,” you tell him while coming up to the car with your backpack slung over your shoulder.

“A dad who packed the trunk of your car perfectly.” He eyes the backpack on your shoulder. “That goes in the backseat. I’m not opening the trunk again.”

Giggling, you open the backdoor and toss it in.

“Can you drive?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. “You know how much I hate driving.”

Chan sighs and holds his hand out for the keys.

“You’re the best!” you cheer and toss them to him.

“Yeah, you keep saying that.” Chan rolls his eyes and ducks into the driver’s side of the car. “Do you have the address?”

You duck inside the car and start typing on your phone. “I should have it in my texts, one sec.”

Scrolling through your phone, you try to find the text that your aunt sent you with the address. Your family has rented the same AirBnb every year since you were fourteen and yet you could never remember the address of the place.

As you’re searching for it, a phone call from your mom comes in.

“Oh, hold on.” You say to Chan and hit the answer button.

“Hey, ma!” you greet into the phone.

“Hey, sweetie! Are you on your way yet?”

“We just got into the car, actually. We’re about to leave.”

“I thought you would’ve left an hour ago.”

“Chan got held up at work, actually. Not his fault.”

At the mention of his name, Chan perks up and looks over at you, listening to the phone call intently.

“Ah, gotcha. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you two finally started dating.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still kinda new,” you lie through your teeth. You look up and make eye contact with Chan. “We only became official about…”

His eyes widen and he looks around panicked. Quickly, he holds up three fingers.

“About three week-”

He moves about wildly.

“Months! Three months ago! Sorry, I’m a little distracted putting all the bags in the car.”

Chan reacts to your lie comically, his chin jutting forward, head cocking to the side. You wave him off silently. Your mother doesn’t seem to clock your panic about the situation.

“I always saw how the two of you looked at each other, it was only a matter of time, really.”

A blush crawls up your neck and turns your ears and cheeks red. Chan looks down at his lap and coughs nervously, a blush of his own making its way onto his skin.

“Anyway, we better get going, mom! You know how talking on the phone while driving is illegal and all.”

“Make Chan drive! He’s the boyfriend.”

“You’re so right… And he should do so without putting up a fuss.”

Chan motions down to himself, as if to say ‘I’m already the one in the driver’s seat’. You wave him off again, trying to focus on your mother’s voice.

“Okay, okay, I’ll see you soon, but I expect some questions to be answered when I see you, Y/N!” Her voice is teasing, but it makes your blood run cold.

“Of course, mom. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye, love you!”

You don’t give her a chance to answer you before you hang up.

The silence in the car is so loud, the air is so still.

“So,” you say slowly. “We need to come up with a backstory, huh?”

“It seems so.”

Another bout of silence.

Neither of you are looking at each other, you’re both facing forward, staring out the windshield.

“I’ll uh… find the address.”

“Yeah.”

You clear your throat awkwardly and scroll through your phone. Chan waits a second before starting the car.

——————————————

Chan turned one of the final corners of the trip onto the street.

“Our first date?” he asks.

“Coffee at the cafe by my apartment.”

“Second date?”

“Movies, we saw Barbie. We went out to eat afterwards. A diner.”

“When did we become official?”

“Three months ago. May 6th. You asked me after our third date.”

“And?”

“You kissed me at my door.”

“Good.”

You both pause for a moment.

“How come I can’t be the one that kissed you?” you tease him.

Chan laughs out loud and turns the car into the driveway. “As if you would ever make the first move.”

You look at him incredulously. “I so would! You’re the one who gets too nervous to do anything. I say I kissed you, not the other way around.”

“No way, I kissed you.”

Chan puts the car into park.

“Absolutely not. I kissed you first.” you reply.

“Keep dreaming. I walked you to your door, we stood there and talked for a minute. You went to walk inside, but I stopped you and kissed you.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt.

“No, after we talked, there was an awkward silence and I could see how nervous you were and how you kept looking at my lips. So, I took the first step and kissed you.”

Grabbing the door handle, you wrench it open before Chan could issue a rebuttal again.

He calls your name from inside the car and lets out a loud groan afterwards.

“You can’t have all the firsts, now can you?” you call back, walking around to the trunk.

The front door to the house rips open and two of your little cousins come tearing out of the house with happy smiles.

“Y/N! Y/N!” they both call out, sprinting up to you.

Leaning down, you scoop both of them up into a hug with both arms, giving them an equally excited hello. Both of them hug you tightly.

They’re five and nine years old, girl and boy– the youngest of the cousins.

“Look who else I brought with me,” you giggle and look over at Chan, who was watching you from the side of the car. The door still opened, his arm leaning on the top.

Both of their tiny gazes turn towards him and just like that, you’re forgotten about.

“Chan!” They both cheer and run at him full tilt.

He wraps both of them up in his strong arms and picks them off the ground.

“Hello, you two!” he coos and gives them both kisses on their heads.

Something twinges within your heart seeing him interact with the two of them that way, it goes through you like an arrow. His brown eyes are so warm and sparkly holding your two little cousins close to him.

A genuine, bright smile pulled across his beautiful face.

Chan steps away from the car and puts them on the ground, they both complain. “Come on, I need to help Y/N with the bags. I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I made her carry them all by herself.”

Your heart thuds again. Boyfriend.

The two kids groan and give in, running back into the house, telling everyone of your arrival.

Chan watches them for a moment before turning to look at you with a sheepish smile. You smile back and knock twice on the hood of your car.

“Come on then, boyfriend. These bags won't carry themselves.”

He laughs and grabs the bags from the trunk, arguing with you when you try to lift some of the heavier bags. Well, you weren’t going to argue about carrying something if you didn’t need to.

The cold air conditioned house was a familiar sight when you walked through the front door. One of your aunts was near the entrance when you first came in.

“Y/N, Chan, you’re here! We have you both in the room down here, I hope that’s okay.” she says, pointing to the room down the hall. It’s one of only three bedrooms on the first floor.

“Yeah! That’s totally fine, thank you.”

You smile and walk to the room, dropping your bags down on the bed.

The singular bed in the room.

Chan follows you inside the room with your bags, plopping them down on the floor by the door. You turn to look at him, he’s staring at the bed, most likely thinking the same thing that you are.

He closes the door behind you both.

“I didn’t think about this part.” you say quietly just in case someone was outside the door.

He shrugs. “Just don’t hog the blankets,” he jokes. Chan brushes it off so easily.

What you don’t know is his heart is racing just as much as yours is. His mouth has gone completely dry and he had to gulp down some nerves before jesting with you.

It’s just a bed, right? Both of you can share a bed, no problem. Not at all.

The two of you have fallen asleep on the couch together before. But, it’s not quite the same as sharing a bedroom for the next week.

“I didn’t think you would need any blankets since you’re a human space heater.” You open your one bag and pull out a few smaller things.

“You’re just jealous because you’re cold all the time.” Chan stands on the other side of the bed, plugging his phone charger into the wall.

“I’m not cold all the time.”

“You’re in a sweatshirt and it’s eighty five degrees outside.”

“We had the air conditioning on in the car.”

There’s a few knocks on the bedroom door. “Dinner!”

——————————————

Contrary to what you both originally thought, your family did not grill the two of you interrogation style about your relationship. Instead, you were met with a lot of “It was only a matter of time”.

Each time one of your family members said something along those lines, both you and Chan would grow extremely shy, faces flushing and hearts racing.

Dinner was held in the back room attached to the large kitchen, a long dining table sat in the room, benches full of your family members lined it.

There were so many of you: eight cousins, three aunts, two uncles, two parents, one sister, one brother in law, one grandmother.

This was not the first time Chan had been around your extremely large family, not at all. He’s around you all the time, especially when he can’t go home to Australia for holidays. You always invite him to your family celebrations, and each time he’s more than thrilled to be there.

Everyone was so happy that he was there; part of you thinks they’re happier to see him than you.

Dinner came and went, it was filled with laughter and stories, like it usually is. Your dad and his brothers all teased one another, bringing up stories of being young in the 70’s and 80’s.

“Let’s do a movie night!” One of your younger cousins turns to her older brother. “You’ve been promising me that we would watch Star Wars.”

“You want to watch Star Wars tonight?” he replies.

“Yes, please! Cousins movie night!" She cheers and grabs her plate. “We can set the couches up like last year!”

Chan leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Movie night?”

“There’s a den upstairs with a couple couches, we push them together to make a giant bed and all watch movies at night. Very common L/N Family Activity on vacation.” you answer, leaning closer to him. “The adults usually go to bed and all the cousins watch movies.”

“Sounds exciting.”

Both of you chuckle and smile at one another. His dimples showing. You two seem to be in your own little bubble.

Chan’s leaning so close his body heat is radiating through your clothes. The fabric of his shirt is brushing against your bare arm.

“You’ll find that there’s a certain schedule to each day, breakfast, play down at the lake, lunch, back to the lake, get ready for dinner, eat dinner, movie time.”

“I think I can get used to that.”

“You better.”

A throat clears by you. Your aunt is looking at the two of you with a playful smile. “Are you both going to help clean up or what?”

——————————————

“Dibs on sitting next to Y/N!” One of your little cousins calls out after you all finished pushing the couches together.

“No, I want to sit next to her!” Another yells out.

The youngest runs up and throws his arms around your hips, hugging you close to him. Both arms don’t make it around you all the way.

“No, me!”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. He holds you tighter and it knocks you off balance slightly.

“Come on, hon, you got to sit next to me at dinner, let someone else have a turn.” you coo down to him.

“No!” he pouts and hugs you tighter. You grimace and try to pry his arms off you.

Chan comes out of nowhere and picks your cousin off the ground in one fell swoop. “How about me, huh?” he teases and tickles your cousin with his one free hand.

Your cousin starts giggling like crazy.

“Don’t I get to sit next to my girlfriend?” he jokes and tickles him even more.

The biggest smile stretches over your face, heart warming once more.

Chan drops your cousin onto the couches, he bounces a bit, still laughing.

The tickle torture continues now that both of Chan’s hands are free. Giggles turn into cackles.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t fight the smile on your face and the feeling that stirs in your stomach. Are you ovulating? You have to be. There’s no other explanation for the flutter within your chest.

He just looks so natural like that. The teasing looked adorable.

It wasn’t until one of your older cousins came into the room before your gaze was taken away from Chan.

“Lovesick, eh?” he says in your ear.

“Oh, shut up.” You hit him in the arm.

“I know that look anywhere, Y/N. You can’t fool me.” He laughs and then walks to take his spot on the big couch huddle with his girlfriend.

Chan picks your little cousin up by the ankle and starts dragging him around. Both of their laughter was music to your ears.

“Okay, okay! Move time!” You call out to the two of them. Chan looks over at you immediately with the goofiest grin on his face.

Your little cousin groans.

“Give me my boyfriend back,” you tease and climb onto the couch.

After several minutes of figuring out seating and finding the movie on the TV, everyone was finally settled.

Chan sat directly next to you, his arm on the back of the couch behind you. Both of your legs stretched out in front of you and a shared blanket draped over you both.

The opening title sequence of Star Wars starts playing and silence falls over your cousins for the first time since you got there.

Absent-mindedly, Chan’s fingers lightly brush over the skin of your exposed shoulder from behind you. They trace small shapes lightly.

You can’t even focus on the movie in front of you, Chan’s touch is too distracting.

Your sister and her fiance sat on the other side of you. She leaned over and whispered in your ear about twenty minutes into the movie.

“You can cuddle with your boyfriend, you know.”

A flush crawls up your neck. “Yeah, of course I know that. I just didn’t want to–”

Chan must’ve heard her, his hand closes over your shoulder and brings you closer to him. Your body turns into his, head tucked underneath his chin. His body warmth seeps into you as soon as you press into him.

The cherry on top is when he presses a kiss to the crown of your hair before resting his chin on top of your head. A shockwave of goosebumps ripples through your body.

Thinking you were chilly, Chan wraps his other arm around you and holds you even closer.

Well, if he’s playing the part.

You intertwine your legs with his underneath the blanket. His heart jumps in his chest and he has to fight the urge to press another kiss into your hair.

Chan knew he was pushing his luck with the first one, but it just felt so natural, he couldn’t help himself. Every single time the two of you touch, he instinctually takes it further into a romantic zone.

Previously, he would restrain himself from advancing these moments with you, but now? He doesn’t need to hold himself back. He can let his body react naturally.

The movie continues on, whenever a younger cousin would ask any questions about the movie, one of the older kids would answer.

Whenever Chan was the one to answer, his voice would rumble deep within his chest. The later it got, the raspier it sounded.

Throughout the movie, you both just got more and more tangled up underneath the blanket. You slid an arm around to rest your hand on Chan’s chest; fingers mindlessly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt.

Chan melted into your touch so easily.

In all the years you’ve been close friends, you’ve never been this level of a human pretzel while hanging out. He’s relishing every moment of it. Your shared body heat mingling is intoxicating to him.

He’s such a tactile person, physical touch is definitely his love language.

Chan can’t remember a time he was ever this cozy while watching a movie.

One of his hands moves from your shoulder and into your hair, running his fingers through the strands gently.

Every muscle in your body relaxes when he starts scratching at your scalp lightly. His soft exhales puff out on your head. Normally, this would bother you, but instead you find it soothing.

Both of you were fighting against your eyelids towards the end of the movie. The little kids fell asleep about ten minutes before the credits rolled.

Chan squeezes you tighter for a moment before whispering into your hair, “Time for bed.”

Your heart squeezes. “I gotta help get the little ones to bed.”

“I got it,” he answers. “Go wash up and get to bed. I’ll be downstairs in a few.”

Words can’t even describe how much your heart melts at his words.

Pull it together, Y/N. He’s your fake boyfriend for the week, remember? Not your real one.

It’s Chan – Bang Chan. The same guy who held your hair each time you drank yourself sick in college. The guy who camps out at your dining room table to work because he claims the Wi-Fi is better at your apartment.

Nevertheless, you peel yourself off of him, untangling your limbs and sitting up.

“You’re the best,” you say to him with a sleepy smile.

“I know.”

——————————————

Sunlight streams in through the bedroom window and the air conditioning unit continuously hums in the room.

A strong arm squeezing tighter around your body is what drags you out of dreamland.

A searingly hot body is pressed flush against the back of yours; legs tangled up, back to chest, soft exhales blowing into your hair lightly.

The haze of sleep still has your mind in its grip. All you know in that moment is that it’s so cozy, so warm, so nice that you can’t help but press your body backwards into that serene clasp.

The arm tightens again and brings you even closer.

A nose nuzzles further into the back of your head.

Chan, it’s Chan behind you.

You should care. You should be prying his arm off your waist and scooting over away from him.

But you don’t want to. It’s too nice.

It’s so peaceful, you’re about to drift back to sleep when the sound of two separate footsteps run towards your bedroom door.

They’re so loud, it rips you from sleep and you tense up, preparing for impact.

Your bedroom door is practically flung open.

Chan jolts against your body at the noise, his eyes snap open, arm tightening around you even more in a protective manner.

He has about two seconds to get his bearings before both cousins leap onto the bed, yelling at you both to wake up.

Chan releases you and turns over onto his back with a deep groan.

You groan and squint your eyes closed, bringing the covers up over your head.

“Noooo…” you moan out.

Chan laughs and grabs one little cousin closely, hugging her close to his chest. “Are you in here to sleep in bed with us? I sure hope so since it’s still soooo early.”

She giggles and tries to fight against his strong arms. “No!” she cackles. “You have to eat breakfast so we can go swimming down at the lake!”

Your other, more calm, cousin squirms underneath the covers and cuddles up to you. Slinging an arm around him, you keep your eyes closed and try to let your mind drift off again.

This is not the first time he’s done this, and it most likely will not be the last. It breaks your heart thinking about the year he feels like he’s too old to do this.

Chan is practically wrestling with your cousin next to you. She squeals when he turns on his side with her encased in his arms.

“Chaaan!” she giggles.

After a few moments, he lets her go and she clambers off the bed.

“Come on, Chan! Come sit next to me at breakfast!” She pulls on his hand closest to the edge of the bed.

He laughs and turns his head to look at you. You’re fast asleep again with your younger cousin asleep in your arms.

Chan’s heart slams against his ribcage and his stomach does a cartwheel.

Your sleeping face is so peaceful, and the way your little cousin has the same hair color as you had the cogs in his mind turning.

What if that was your kid in your arms, not just a cousin?

What if it was his?

His eyes flicker all over your face.

Something stirs in his mind, shooting down his spine. If it wasn’t for your other little cousin yanking on his arm over and over again, probably would’ve watched you for a few more moments, allowing his mind to roam into dangerous territory.

——————————————

“You’re staring.” Your aunt sits next to Chan with a plate full of food.

He’s camped out on the back porch of the cabin. It overlooks the wooden stairs that lead down to the dock hanging over the lake.

You’re lounging out on a floaty, pina colada in your hand– courtesy of him. He had walked it down to you only a few moments ago.

When it was announced that it was lunch time, you told Chan you wanted to work on your tan without worrying about your cousins splashing you every five seconds.

Maybe making you a frozen drink was just an excuse to see your face light up when he brought it to you. Maybe it was an excuse to watch the water droplets slide over your body up close.

Chan clears his throat and tears his eyes off your lazing form. Clearly, he’d been caught staring at your bikini clad form.

She nudges his arm playfully. “Don’t be embarrassed, it would be weirder if you didn’t stare, you know.”

Your family can be so crass sometimes.

Chan laughs and takes a bite of the sandwich on his plate. “It’s just nice to see her relaxing for once.”

“Has she been working herself into the ground again?”

“She never stops.”

Your aunt nods and looks back down at you before taking a bite of her own food. “Also helps that she looks good in that bathing suit.” She pauses. “Damn, your kids will be good looking.”

Chan chokes on his bite of food, his body jerks forward and he slams his fist into his chest to try and get it down.

Your aunt pats him on the back a few times, laughing at his expense.

“What?” She questions with an evil chuckle. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

“We’ve only been together for three months,” he wheezes out, still hitting his chest. The clump of food is sitting in his throat.

“And?”

“It’s too early to think about stuff like that,” he lies through his teeth.

You’re not even his. You’re not. This week will end and you’ll have to go back to just being best friends.

He’ll have to pretend that he wasn’t fake sleeping for the last hour before you woke up just to have his arms around you for a little while longer.

“Please.” Your aunt rolls her eyes and goes back to her food when another family member joins the table.

Chan takes a long swig of water before letting his eyes flicker to you once more. Your free hand hangs down in the water, head tilted back to dip into the cool lake, exposing your long, beautiful neck.

In his swim trunks, his cock twitches and he takes an even bigger drink of water.

——————————————

The torture continues endlessly for the two of you.

It’s the fourth night when it’s just you and Chan left awake.

Rain is pouring against the windows outside, the fireplace is lit, TV playing something in the background.

“I’m never going to get to bed.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t have had coffee with dessert,” you tease Chan, nudging his arm.

“Your uncle offered me a cup and I panicked.”

“You don’t even like coffee.”

“I know!” He whined.

You laugh at his expense. “Come on,” you tug on his arm. “You promised you would play pool with me.”

“When did I say that?”

“Literally this morning!”

“Fine, fine.”

He allows you to pull him off the couch with a dorky smile on his face. He loves giving you a hard time for no reason at all.

The pool table sat in the front room, just a few steps away from your bedroom.

Every time the two of you had gone to play pool, other family members would get in the way and pull one of you two in another direction.

Tonight was really the first night you both had to yourselves.

“You break,” you tell him once everything is set up. He nods and lines up his shot. After a second, he hits the cue ball perfectly into the cluster and all the balls scatter along the table, but nothing sinks into the pocket.

“Pity,” you tease him.

“Pity,” he repeats, mocking your tone.

Laughing, you bend over and line up your own shot. From across the table, Chan watches your form bend over, his lip pulling between his teeth mindlessly.

You hit the ball and sink one in.

With a cheer on the quieter side, you look at him with a smirk. He rolls his eyes playfully as you line up another shot.

The game continues just like this for a bit. Both of you going back and forth, missing most shots, but also nailing some good ones.

You’re tied at the end, racing to try and sink the 8-ball before the other person.

Leaning over the table right in front of him, you try and set up your aim.

“Wait,” Chan says quietly before you can pull the pool stick back to take your shot.

He leans down over you, pressing his back into yours, arms coming around you. He guides your aim to hit the cue ball differently.

The entire time, your heart rate is increasing exponentially.

“Just a bit more to the left,” he whispers in your ear. Chills rip down your body and you gulp. His voice sounds so low and sensual.

His hand over yours adjusts with tiny, miniscule movements. He keeps changing the aim a bit to the left, then a bit to the right, like he’s prolonging the contact.

Behind you, his hips are pressed into yours. It’s taking every ounce of willpower and control for him not to get hard in his sweats.

Especially, since in this position, he potentially could–

“Pull back,” he rasps. You follow his instructions immediately. He helps guide the pool stick back, hesitating for a moment. His chest inflates with a deep breath.

He breathes in the smell of your shampoo.

“Shoot,” he exhales.

With his guidance, you both shoot the ball, standing up quickly to watch it bounce off the 8-ball and then sinking into the corner pocket.

You cheer and jump up, turning around to face him directly.

“Take that!”

When you turned to face him, he hadn’t backed away yet. You’re practically nose to nose with Chan. A gasp catches in your throat from his proximity.

And yet, he still doesn’t back away. He continues to stare at you, his eyes dart from yours, down to your lips, then back up to your eyes again.

“Y/N,” he breathes out.

You swallow nervously and hold his eye contact.

Chan’s jaw clenches once, his hands ball into fists at his sides. Every single ounce of constraint is being tested within his body right now.

Cracks are going up the dam of his self control.

You’re not moving away; why aren’t you moving away from him?

He watches your eyes flicker down to his lips once and that’s all it takes for his mind to snap.

Chan lunges forward, grabbing your face with both of his hands and smashing your lips together. You let out a surprised noise against his mouth, your pool stick clattering to the ground.

Every bit of pent up aggression from the last few days is poured into the first kiss.

His hands aren’t on your face for long. He can’t keep still, sliding them all over your body; into your hair, down your sides, grabbing your hips, he’s everywhere.

“Fuck,” he growls against your lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit.”

Even though he’s apologizing, he can’t stop himself. He can’t stop slotting his lips over yours, devouring your very being.

Chan’s eyebrows are pinched together painfully. He’s pinning your body against the pool table with his hips.

You grab at his shirt and pull him closer.

“Shut up,” you say in between heated kisses.

“But I–”

“Shut up.” Your tongue runs over his bottom lip and his mind whites out. Every rebuttal fell from his mind, through the floor and into the Earth.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his face even closer to yours as he licks into your mouth. With each turn of your heads, your noses brush against one another.

Chan runs his hands down your body and grabs underneath your thighs, picking you up and placing you on the pool table.

Your legs part and he stands in between them, never leaving your lips once.

As he runs his hands up your legs, he squeezes your bare thighs every few inches. It makes your core clench and body tingle.

Your fingers run up through his hair, grabbing tightly and pulling. Chan moans into your mouth and moves his hands to grab at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

“Chan,” you whisper on his lips. He responds with a grunt. “Need you.”

God.

His hands fly to your legs again, grabbing you by the knees, he yanks your hips forward. Your clothed core comes into direct contact with his erection.

“I can give you exactly what you need, baby.” he nips your lip with his teeth. “I can take good care of you, yeah?”

Trailing his fingers up, he toys with the waistband of your shorts. At the same time, he moves his kisses down your neck. You tilt your head back to give him more access.

“Wanna take these off, babygirl?” he moans when you roll your hips into his.

“Yes, please.” you hiss in response.

Lifting your hips, he grabs the fabric and slides it down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with the forgotten pool stick.

Kisses trail lower and lower down your neck as he lowers to the ground.

Chan pulls away to kneel onto the ground.

His eyes are heated and strong when they meet yours. A dark scarlet color covers his cheeks and down his neck, disappearing into his sleeveless shirt.

Both of his hands grab at your thighs when he looks down at your glistening cunt. You’re absolutely soaking wet by now.

Since the moment he helped you line up your shot, you felt your panties dampening.

Wasting no time, Chan leans forward and runs his tongue from the bottom of your slit all the way up to the top, swirling around your clit and sucking gently.

Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, the other rests on the table behind you to keep your balance.

He repeats the action again, this time with more fervor and you squint your eyes shut, head tossing back from the pleasure that rips down your spine like a zipper.

Chan’s hands tighten around your thighs, eyes staring up at you and studying each reaction closely.

You taste so fucking good. He can’t get enough of you. His tongue greedily scoops up your juices, licking around your clit to feel you grind into his face.

His cock throbs with each moan, each whine that makes it through your fingers held tightly over your mouth.

After one long suck on your clit, Chan dips his tongue inside you, licking at your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, the hand over your mouth flies down to grip at his hair.

He can’t help but smirk into your folds.

Every single moan is music to his ears.

Slowly, he inches his fingers over and when he moves his tongue up to your clit, he slides a finger into you, immediately curling it up to hit that spongy spot inside you.

“Jesus fuck–!” you cry out as quiet as you can manage.

It doesn’t slip your mind that you’re quite literally in a house full of relatives who could wake up and come into the front room at any moment and see the two of you.

But the fear just adds an extra layer of arousal to you.

“Does that feel good, babygirl?” Chan mutters into your cunt. “Does it feel good to have my fingers inside you?”

He thrusts his finger in and out slowly, those brown eyes studying you like a predator studies prey.

You bite your lip, eyes closed, and nod your head.

Chan adds a second finger and your head tosses back again. He can feel you clench down hard on his fingers when he licks your clit in long, even strokes.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your body.

“Chan,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby?” he teases, licking up slowly, the pace of his fingers is equally as slow. But, regardless of the pace, he’s still coaxing you towards the edge of an orgasm. It’s building slowly, you can feel it in the pit of your stomach.

“Shit,” you buck your hips into his face when he does one particularly hard thrust.

“Use your words, little girl.” He bites your thigh and then goes back to your folds. You clench around him hard at the name.

How are you supposed to use your words when your voice keeps getting caught in your throat? When every time you think you can open your mouth, a sultry moan tumbles out.

“N-Need you,” you manage to strain out.

A devilish smile pulls at his lips. He begins to thrust faster with his fingers, licking your clit quicker.

“Need me?” He asks in between licks. “You need me?”

Veins are popping in your neck from straining to keep your voice down.

“Yes, fuck!” You hiss out. “ I need you.”

In between his legs, Chan can feel his cock weeping with precum. His mind is so clouded with lust he can barely think straight.

Desperately, he wishes that you didn’t have to keep your voice down. He wants to make you scream.

Faster and faster he thrusts and licks at your soaking cunt, greedily tasting your juices.

Your thighs twitch on either side of his head the closer you get to your orgasm.

“Chan,” you grab his attention by yanking on his hair. He grunts and looks up at you through his lashes, lips still devouring you. “Inside, inside. I need your cock inside me.”

Your words go straight to his dick, he licks at your cunt a few more times before standing to his feet quickly to lock your lips together, fingers still buried inside you.

When you taste your own slick on his tongue, your eyes roll back in your head and you clench around him. Chan smirks into the kiss, curling his fingers up.

He’s relentless. Tongue sliding over yours, moans being eaten up by a greedy mouth while his fingers fuck into you.

With more strength than you thought you had, you pry Chan’s lips off yours by pulling his hair back.

“If you don’t fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I’ll pin you down and ride you until your cock can’t cum anymore.”

An exhale is punched from his chest. His mind whites out. Chan’s mouth drops open and his fingers stutter within you.

Did you really just say that? That sounds like a fucking dream.

“Babygirl,” he growls darkly. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

Your eyes darken and you pull his hair again. “Fuck me until I can’t walk, Chris.”

Chan rips his fingers out of your cunt, grabs both of your hips and roughly pulls you off the pool table.

He fists a hand in the back of your hair and spins you around, shoving your head down, bending you over completely.

You’re lucky you had half a mind to put your arms out to rest your weight on your elbows.

Using his one foot, he knocks the inside of yours outwards to spread your legs even more.

“Fucking look at that,” he marvels, running his free hand up your ass and kneading a handful. After a second he reels back and brings his hand down with a painful smack.

Your one hand flies to your mouth to cover the squeak that you make.

“Bent over, soaking wet cunt just fucking waiting to take my cock.” His hand tightens in your hair. The other hand rips his sweatpants down to take his cock out. “What a good girl you are.”

Chan can’t remember a time he’s ever been this hard.

Casting a look over your shoulder, you look back at Chan. His eyes are blown out, lip pulled in a sneer as he fists his cock, staring directly at your fluttering walls clench around nothing.

“You wanna fill me up, Channie?”

His eyes snap up to yours with a predator-like stare. His hand stops pumping his own cock, hell, he even stops breathing.

Chan’s jaw clenches, every ounce of self control is being drained. How much more of this can he fucking take before he passes out?

“What?” His voice is so strained and hoarse.

Your eyes narrow and you wiggle your hips tauntingly. “Come on, Chan.”

Chan’s eyes darken. He fists your hair and shoves your face down on the table and slams his cock inside you.

Your mouth stretches open in a silent scream, but you don’t let the noise make it out of your body.

Chan’s eyes roll to the back. You feel so fucking good.

“Holy shit.” He moans out. “Jesus fuck you’re so fighting tight.”

He wastes no time, pulling his cock out to slam back inside you. Your back arches and hips press into his to meet his thrust.

Each sharp wave of pleasure shoots down your legs and into your toes.

Small gasps and whines make their way through your lips.

Chan leans down, yanking your hair back to pick your head up slightly. His face comes down next to yours.

“You like this, yeah?” He whispers harshly. Thrust after thrust slams against your cervix. “You like when it’s rough?”

Closing your eyes tightly, you keep your mouth shut, trying to nod with his hand so tightly wound in the crown of your hair.

“Better be quiet, then. Don’t want someone coming out and seeing you look like a cum hungry, whore.”

Over and over again he fucks into you.

After one harsh thrust, your mouth drops open and before you can moan loudly, Chan’s free hand covers your mouth tightly.

“Feels that good to have my cock inside you, huh? Can’t control that pretty mouth, you’re so fucked out.”

You whine and nod again. Nails digging into the felt of the pool table underneath you.

Hot, white pleasure is coursing through your veins. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life.

Chan leans down more and bites at the side of your neck, lapping at the skin and leaving small marks that will fade by the morning.

“You’re fucking lucky you have to be in a bathing suit in front of your family tomorrow. Otherwise I would leave my fucking mark all over you.” He bites, but doesn’t suck. “Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

Another whine is stopped by his hand.

“I have a better idea, babygirl.” He bites your earlobe, pace slowing down within you. Instead, he thrusts deeper, you can practically feel him within your gut. “I’m going to do exactly what you said, yeah? Fill you up? Make that pussy sloppy with my fucking load.”

Your hips jerk back into his to try and encourage him to pick up the pace. Chan only tightens his hold in your hair.

“You’re going to take whatever I give you, every last fucking drop. Even after I pull out, I’ll stuff you with my fucking fingers so nothing gets wasted.”

Arching your back, you press into him more.

“You want that, huh?” He growls, biting your ear. His pace picks up gradually, each thrust rougher and faster than the last. “You want my seed inside you?”

You nod pathetically.

“You want me to fuck a baby into you?”

His thrusts start growing erratic.

You never expected him to be this talkative during sex. But he hasn’t shut up once.

Another nod accompanied with a whine comes from you. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure.

“Gunna carry my kids, got the fucking perfect hips for it, yeah? You’ll look so fucking hot all pregnant with our kids. Fuck.”

He’s so lost and fucked out, he can’t stop his mouth from running, spewing all his fantasies.

Moving his hand from your mouth, he trails it down to grab at your throat.

“Chan!” You moan out, licking your dry lips.

“Can feel you clenching, babygirl. You gonna cum for me? Gunna cream on my cock? Suck up my cum and hold onto it with this tight fucking pussy?”

“Yes yes yes yes.” You pant over and over again. “Kiss me, kiss me, please”

When you turn your head, your lips smash together.

The coil in your gut is seconds from snapping.

You bite Chan’s lip and pull back.

“Fuck me full, daddy.”

Every muscle in his body tensed and his thrusts turn into something animalistic. The hand in your hair is so tight your scalp is screaming.

“Say it again.”

“Fu-huck,” is all you’re able to manage.

“Say it again.” He barks in your ear. You’re not going to be able sit down tomorrow.

“Daddy.”

A bite to your neck.

“Again.”

“Daddy! Fuck me, daddy!”

“Holy shit.” He whines in your ear. Hearing you say that makes him feel fucking insane. His body is acting on its own.

With a few more thrusts both of you are thrown over the edge at the same time. Your cunt clenching around him so tight, Chan can barely breathe.

His cock spurts and sprays within you, painting your walls white.

Every single sensation feels so good you think you leave for body for a few minutes. Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.

His entire body is wrapped around yours. Grunts in your ear keep you grounded.

You feel so full.

Chan came inside you so much that it’s leaking out and dripping down the inside of your legs.

He pants heavily into your ear.

Releasing your neck, he lovingly runs his hand down your side, caressing your hip, massaging circles into the bone.

His hand slides around and cups your lower stomach tenderly.

Slowly, he unwinds his hand from your hair, kissing at the roots he’s been relentlessly pulling on. He scratches and rubs at your scalp to ease the ache.

But still, he hasn’t pulled out.

Chan kisses the top of your head and down to your face, kissing the cheek he’s able to reach.

You can’t catch your breath.

“Y/N,” he whispers into your hair.

You hum back to him, eyes still closed in bliss.

“I love you.”

Your heart jumps in your chest, Chan feels you clench around him.

“I love you too.” It falls from your lips so easily, like it’s been sitting there for so long, just waiting to be heard.

Both of your heads turn to kiss one another.

It’s so ungodly sweet for the events that just took place minutes ago.

His lips are so soft and plush, especially from being swollen from your steamy kisses.

Inside you, you can feel his cock twitch. Is he…?

Breathlessly, you pull away from his sweet kiss.

“Are you still hard?” you pant.

Sheepishly, he smiles and ruts into you. A moan catches in your throat.

“Babygirl, I’ve been waiting for so long to fuck you. It’s going to take a few times before I’m ready to call it a night.”

[alvojake]

Needy Girl | Y.JW

「pairing」 : bf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 1.4k

「synopsis」 : jungwon had invited you over just to spend his time studying while you sat on his bed, watching him. after growing bored, you came up with the perfect plan to distract him, and it worked, just not how you anticipated.

「genre」 : smut

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, oral (m. receiving), slight fingering, cum eating, face fucking, petnames (doll, babe...), slight choking, small amount of unprotected sex at the end, derogatory names (slut, whore...), degradation, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : this was originally supposed to be a hard thought because of this picture, but my inability to write anything small strikes once again... also this is for the lovely nia (@intromortal) as payback for those links you sent in the gc :>

You started to wonder why your boyfriend even invited you over to his dorm if all he was going to do was focus on his studies. Maybe it was because he just wanted your company, but you weren't sure. 

However, what you did know was that you were getting bored and needy, having been deprived of your boyfriend's touch all week due to finals. Just when you thought you would finally get your boyfriend's touch, kiss, dick. It was pulled out of your reach once more. 

"Wonnie..." you whined out once more, draping your arms over his shoulder, face buried in his neck. "When are you gonna be done? I'm bored." 

Jungwon sighed, dropping the pen that sat between his fingers to grab your wandering hands. His eyes closed, trying to keep his cool. In the span of just two hours, you had distracted him countless times.

"Doll, I told you that I'd be all yours as soon as I was done." He spoke with a tinge of annoyance in his tone. Pouting, you pulled your face out of his neck and rested your chin on his shoulder. 

"But you've been studying for the past two hours. Can't you take a break?" you grumbled, fingers toying with the fabric of his shirt.

Jungwon inhaled deeply, pulling your hands away from his body and pushing you back a bit. His actions caused you to glare at him, and you started to grow annoyed. 

"This exam is important, y/n. I can't waste any time lounging around." He didn't even spare you a glance as he picked his pen back up and returned to the textbook that lay before him. 

Biting your tongue, you stomped back over to the bed and flopped down with a huff. Staring at the ceiling, you thought about what you could do. Going home was always an option, but that seemed like the easy way out. 

No, you wanted to get your boyfriend's attention regardless of how you went about it. 

Turning your head, your eyes landed on your boyfriend's slouched form. The pen was hanging from his lips as he read something, and he looked lost in thought. Your eyes then trailed down to his bouncing thigh, the motion bringing back memories of when he would make you ride his thigh. The images make you squeeze your thighs together, your panties growing wet. 

Your eyes then go to the slight tent in his sweatpants, and your mouth wateres at the sight. Just then, an idea pops into your mind, causing you to sit up, a smirk tugging on the corner of your lips. 

Getting off of the bed, you slowly make your way over to Jungwon's desk, trying not to gain his attention. Which with some kind of miracle that you hadn't. 

Dropping to your knees, you crawled under the desk, making sure not to touch him just yet. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you move between his spread legs, hands falling on his thighs. Jungwon let out a sharp gasp, his body jolting at your touch.

"What are you doing, babe?" his voice was strained. His eyes fell on you as he pushed his chair back slightly.

You just gave him an innocent smile, "Don't worry about me; go back to your studying since it's so important."

Jungwon bit his tongue as your hands wandered up his thighs, dangerously close to his clothed dick. He tried his best to ignore your antics while he went back to his papers. However, your fingers slipping past the waistband of his sweats was very, very distracting. 

Your fingertips were cold on his skin as you tugged the fabric down until his semi-hard dick was pulled from its confines. A choked groan was pulled from his lips as you wrapped your fingers around him, pumping languidly. His hips bucked into your hand as your thumb brushed over his tip, a deep groan falling from his lips. 

Then your movements stopped, causing him to look down at you with furrowed eyebrows and question why you had stopped. 

"Focus on your work won," your tone was flat as you brought your face closer to his hardening dick. 

"How am I supposed to focus when you're- fuck." his body shivered when you pressed your tongue against the underside of his cock, licking a long stripe up to his tip, "when you got your pretty mouth on my dick?"

Humming at the slight taste of his pre-cum, the vibrations making Jungwon's thighs tense, eyes rolling back slightly. 

You couldn't help but smirk internally, knowing you had him in the palm of your hand. Watching as his head falls back when you wrap your cherry red lips around his tip, sucking lightly. 

"F-Fuckkk!" Jungwon's fingers dropped the pen before threading through your hair, keeping your mouth on him. 

Your thighs squeezed together at the feeling of him growing harder in your mouth. Your panties were soaked through with arousal under your miniskirt, begging for attention. 

A muffled whine vibrated around Jungwon's cock as your fingers slipped under your skirt, toying with your clit. Tilting his head back up, jungwon's hooded eyes fell back on you, taking in your closed eyes and flushed face, but then he noticed where your other hand was.

"Are you touching yourself?" he growled, hand pushing your head down until his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag, the construction of your throat making him groan. "such an impatient little slut."

Tears brimmed in your eyes as his hips bucked up into your mouth, his hands keeping your head in place. Your nails dug into his thighs as you pulled away from your pussy. 

"Shit..." jungwon breathed out, head falling back once more as he continued to fuck your throat, soaking in all of your incoherent noises and gargles as you choked on his dick.

Your eyes rolled back as you pressed your tongue to the underside of his throbbing dick, humming softly. The vibrations caused the dark-haired male's body to shiver, a deep, guttural groan falling from his parted lips. 

"Fuck 'm gonna cum, yeah," he thrusts his hips up further, making you choke even more on his dick, tears streaming down your face to mix with the spit and pre-cum that covered your chin. "Since you're such a needy whore, you better take it all." he hissed, bucking his hips one last time before he spilled his seed deep in your throat. 

You tried to swallow as much as you could, but his tip continuously hitting the back of your throat as he rolled his hips made it quite hard to do so. Resulting in some spilling past your lips and down your chin before dripping onto your chest. 

With a few more small thrusts, Jungwon finally pulled you off of his cock, allowing you to breathe. Pushing himself away from the desk, he took in your disheveled appearance. Your hair was messy while your face was covered in tears, spit, and cum. Your eyes, however, still looked at him with need, causing him to smirk. 

Spreading his legs, he took his semi-hard dick in his hand, pumping slowly, using your saliva and his cum as a lubricant. Titling his head slightly, he looked at you with a sinister gleam in his eye, motioning for you to come forward.

"Get up here and ride me like the desperate, needy slut that you are." His words stung in all the good ways, only leaving you dripping in your panties even more. Scrambling to your feet, you quickly straddle his lap, hands on his shoulders. 

Lifting your hips, you reach down to move your panties to the side, far too desperate to take them off. Jungwon then lined the tip of his dick with your dripping entrance, but his grip on your hip kept you from sinking down onto him. You started to let out a whine but were quickly silenced when his hand wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.

"And you better not cum until I tell you to, got that doll?" he growled, his warm breath fanning over your wet face. You were quick to nod, keeping your eyes on him, but they soon rolled to the back of your head as he pulled you down onto him in one fell swoop, a choked moan tearing from your lungs.

You didn't move for a moment, trying to adjust, but jungwon was far too impatient and rolled his hips into yours, pulling a high-pitched moan from your lips. His hands find your ass underneath your skirt, squeezing harshly.

"Better get to work, or you won't be cumming anytime soon," he smirked as he watched you struggle to ride him, already knowing it was going to be a long night.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[adayumantium]

Should I Stay Or Should I Go? 

Logan Howlett x fem! Reader smut

a/n: insp by the song by The Clash & graphic by @moosgraphics :)

Summary: Logan Howlett's annoying ass consumes your waking days. You're friends, you're not, you're arguing, you're not...whats the deal? How can such a pain in your ass make you feel so much better?

W/C: 1.6k+ my bad

tags/warnings: ENEMIES TO LOVERS YAHHHHHHHH, implied age gap (but like bc he’s 200,,,), terms of endearment (doll, princess, kid, baby), friendly combat, cursing, MDNI 18+ IM SO SERIOUS, kitchen hate sex WOOOO, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (WRAP IT GUYS) 

Your foot connects with Logan’s chest, pushing him back with a swift kick. He grunts, heels dragging as he struggles to regain his footing. Sweat rolls off his temple, making its way down his neck. 

“Can’t keep up, old man?” you smirk, returning to a guarding stance. There were few things as exhilarating as a good sparring match, especially with Logan. You liked the physical challenge of someone bigger and more experienced than you. Not to mention the banter. You would never admit it, but even the most bitter of his words shot electricity between your thighs. 

“Is that mouth capable of anything that doesn’t give me a headache?” he huffs, lurching forward and throwing his own punches.

“Oh, sweetheart, you wish,” you beckon him with a motion of your fingers.

Maybe too cocky, you dodge once, twice, before Logan lands a blow that knocks you to the ground.

“Shit,” you groan, laying your head back on the cool training mat. 

“Had enough, princess?” Logan straddles your hips, towering over you. God, something about him. You consider your options. Against anyone else, a buck of the hips might send them flying, but Logan was maybe 400 pounds of metal and muscle. You were exhausted, sore, and just a bit distracted by the way Logan’s perspiration made his white tank cling to his sculpted muscles. You sighed, tapping the floor twice.

“Whatever,” you huffed, and Logan grinned before getting back to his feet. He held a hand out to help you up, and as your fingers graced his much larger ones, you felt the contact shiver up your arm. You swallowed silently, trying to ignore the tension in your neck and shoulders. 

“Y’know, you’re gettin’ better out there, doll. Maybe one day, you’ll be able to handle me,” Logan nodded. 

“Shut up,” you scowl. 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, kid. It was a compliment,” Logan rolls his eyes, leaving before you could conjure up a decent comeback. Ugh. As you make your way back to your own room, you can’t shake the interaction. Really, every interaction you’ve ever had with him. It was always teasing, always belittling one another, but you craved every inkling of it. You hated to admit it, but the idea of beating Logan made you want to be better and train harder. You loved having him on his knees, at your mercy. 

Stepping into the shower, you work to scrub the feeling of him off your skin. The feeling of him towering over you on the mat and the way it made your throat feel tight. The smell of tobacco and leather so far up your nose you can taste it. 

How could something so frustrating feel so good? 

Crawling into bed that night was no better. You stare at the ceiling for hours, restless as you replay your conversations with Logan in your mind. He was so infuriating, the way he pins your wrists during drills or threatens to wipe a sly smile off your face. Why are you so desperate to have him be present in your everyday life? Maybe, after all this time, you just have to get it out in the open. It’s late, though; no one can think clearly at this time of night. You eventually drift to sleep, and your subconscious betrays you with dreams of the Wolverine. 

An early morning jog is always exactly what you need. The rising sun and singing birds are waking up, and it reminds you how nice life in the mansion actually is. Peace and quiet is a virtue in a life as chaotic as yours. Sometimes, life happens too quickly. Short of breath, you fumble back inside, gracious for cool air and endorphins keeping you upright. 

Your stomach growling grounds you. You stand on your toes, pulling cereal down from the cabinets. Opening the fridge, you frown. Who drank the last of the milk? You sigh, a creek in the floor putting your senses on edge. Asked and answered. You whip around to see Logan leaning against the counter nursing his own bowl of cereal.

“Take a picture, huh? It’ll last longer,” he mutters, bringing the bowl to his mouth and taking an obnoxious slurp. 

“Of course you took the last of it, kitty,” you cooed, knowing his disdain for it. 

“Watch your mouth, doll,” Logan grunts, going to rinse his bowl without further acknowledging your physical proximity. 

“Or what?” you challenge, eyes squinting. The calm you felt melts away, replaced by that irritating itch Logan always spiked in your body. Your chest rose with rage, though you were mindful of your sleeping housemates at the early hour. In the loudest whisper you can muster, you let Logan have a piece of your mind. 

 “Seriously, what’s your problem, Logan? All you ever do is antagonize me, and I’m sick of it!” you clench your fists, meeting the man’s eyes. 

“You're playing a dangerous game, darlin',” he turns off the water, placing the bowl in the drying rack. You were fairly certain he was only doing this to piss you off and ignore you further; you’d never seen him do a dish. “Now, shut your mouth,” he growls. Your heart pounds so loudly, you could hear it in your ears. 

“Make me,” the whisper escapes your lips before you could think anything of it, and the world stops turning.

 Logan whips around, using his hips to pin yours to the counter as he greedily presses his lips to yours. Despite your surprise, you couldn’t help but find your hands tangling themselves around Logan’s neck, pulling him closer eagerly. In the chaos and hunger, you bite his lip, briefly making him bleed before it heals itself. Logan slips his tongue into your mouth, making you dizzy as he flicks it over yours. Fuck. You can taste his breakfast, the cereal you never got, and something about it makes you crazier. You run your fingers through his hair, engulfing every inch of him he lets you have.

“Mmm, oh,” you whisper. 

“Antagonizing you.” he mocks you in a whisper, sucking on your neck. “Do you have any idea how batshit crazy you drive me?” Logan scoffs. “Always runnin’ that pretty mouth, always flaunting that perfect body,” he huffs, slipping his hands around your ass and down your thighs as he lifts you onto the countertop with ease. “Probably just to get my attention, too,” Logan shakes his head, playing with the waistband of your shorts. The heat starts to gather in your belly as his fingers brush against your stomach. You tilt your head back, giving him more space for his tongue to explore your neck as he dips his hand into your panties. 

“W-why would I want your attention?” you roll your eyes; in pleasure or annoyance, neither of you can tell as he makes his way to your pussy. 

“Shut up, y/n,” Logan kisses you again, sucking on your bottom lip as his fingers work your clit. You whimper, legs spreading to meet him. “Oh, there you are. Gooooood girl,” he nods. “Finally, ya listen,” he purrs. “See what listenin’ gets you?” he mumbles into your lips, and you can’t help but whimper at his touch. If your fighting was passionate, this was intoxicating. 

“You want me to fill you, princess?” Logan asked, fingers playing with you. “You’re soaked for me,” he chuckled. You nod slowly. 

“What, shy all of a sudden?” he bites his lip with a chuckle, slipping two fingers into your entrance. “Where’s all that bark, baby? I know you’ve got quite a bite on you, too,” he nods, pumping his fingers into you as he runs a thumb along your clit. 

“Lo- fuck,” you hiss, adjusting to the size of his hands inside you. The way he felt made your face flush and your breath hitch, and fuck, fuck, fuck, you wanted more. 

“Just like that, I’ve gotcha,” Logan leans forward, letting you wrap your legs around his back. “You got it,” he comforts. “Cum for me, darlin’?” he insists as you jut your hips forward onto him. Chasing the high, you start to feel the knot come undone, and your breath becomes frantic. Logan holds you, no signs of slowing as you whimper on his fingers. 

Unadulterated pleasure ripples through you, and only then does Logan remove himself from you. As if he couldn’t get any hotter, you watch, drunk with pleasure, as he sucks your juices off of his fingers.

 You take the opportunity to fumble with his belt, eager to know the rest of him. “Christ,” he mutters, working to help you free his aching cock from his jeans. 

Logan’s erection springs free, obviously just as eager to know you. Touching his forehead to yours, Logan pulls your hips closer, teasing your entrance. Fuck, he was big.

“Please,” you begged, and sure as hell he was going to give it to you. Logan buried himself into you, covering your mouth as you gasped. 

“What did I say about shutting up, doll,” he tsked, pulling you down onto his hips again and again. “Geez, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Logan whispered, thrusts becoming frantic. For the player he was known to be, Logan was awfully smitten with you. “Doll, I- fuck,” he moaned softly, pounding your pussy. “I’m gonna-” 

“Cum in me,” you nod eagerly, wanting to feel his warmth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, y/n, fuck-” Logan grunted, face dissolving into pleasure as he filled you. Relief coursed through both of you, panting, unable to look one another in the face as the world continued on its axis. “Didn’t think you had it in you, princess,” Logan mumbled, burying his head into your shoulder. “...You don’t think we could do that again sometime, do ya?” 

You smiled. “I told you I could handle you,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head

[cyber333angel]

hiiiii can you do something where like the reader and Logan are just driving and her like feet are on his lap and they stop in the middle of nowhere and have a whole make out session 💕💕

you and logan go on a much needed road trip to somewhere he says he’s been and knows that you would love, more than fond the idea you guys go out for the weekend. as you watch him drive, looking effortlessly handsome as usual as you rest your feet on his lap. feeling him rub your feet casually as he looks ahead on the road carrying on a conversation with you which goes a little faint in your head, accidentally getting distracted looking at the older man. gazing at all his features like his kitty ears that are actually just the tuffs of his messy brunette hair, his sharp jawline that’s covered with the stubble hairs of his beard and his thick biceps that stretch out his white shirt— but you come back to your senses when logan squeezes your thigh saying your name, “you listening to me bub?” making you snap back and look at him, nodding which makes logan chuckle, “yeah, what did I just say?” you think of what to say because you obviously weren’t listening, coming up with a random made up sentence. “err-you asked if I wanted to go to the mall and the answer is yes!” you say with a smile, hoping to distract him from the fact that you were just staring at his muscles, your legs still resting on his lap. it wasn’t much of a good coverup though, “no i asked if you were okay kid, pay attention.” logan says stroking the bottom of your chin with a light chuckle as he switches back and forth on you and the road. you nod and he dismisses it as you getting a little hazy from the long drive and you get distracted, again. the warmth in his hand is so comforting, snuggling your head more into his rough fingertips you close your eyes, logan running his thumb over your eyelid softly with a hum. he drags his thumb across your face gently going from your cheeks to your lips, cupping your face as you grab his hand. bringing his thumb to your mouth, your breath hitching on his fingers as you start to get into subby headspace, sucking on his fingers. the more your tongue swivels around his thumb the more needy you get, whining in the passengers seat oblivious to the fact that logan just pulled into some empty driveway in the middle of nowhere. you snap out of it when logan takes his hand away patting at his lap, “i told you to tell me if you were okay needy girl, come sit.” making you a little shy but you comply and crawl from your seat to his. resting your thighs on his lap peeking around the window shyly with logans hands placed on your ass, hearing him speak suddenly. “you gonna let me take care of you bub? hm?” he says with a soft smile and you nod quickly, leaning in for kiss as you close your eyes.

..that’s how you end up with your panties and shorts in the backseat, grinding on logans lap with a sob as you kiss him. almost sucking the skin off each others lips the way the two of you are kissing, passionately as he whispers sweet words to you trying to get you to your climax. “easy baby, makin a mess all over your old man’s pants..” he says with a chuckle, looking up at you with tears in your eyes mewling for him. “wanna cum lo..i can’t do it by myself..!” you cry, looking at logan with pouty eyes, already getting lazy from grinding your needy cunt on his lap. “aw ill help you sweet girl, did so well for me already.” he says placing his hand on the globes of your ass, moving you front and backwards on the roughness of his jeans. your sensitive clit getting so stimulated from the feeling of his logans bulge pressing up into you, moaning with your head up to the car ceiling. balancing your hands on the blades of the older man’s shoulders, breathing hard as you feel logans eyes looking up at you, praising you so sweetly. “that’s it, good girl..doing so good bub. so fuckin pretty..” his words only make you more overstimulated as you feel your climax creeping up in you, your messy cunt twitching on logans lap making you quiver and lose your breath. “m’cumming lo.. feels s’good..” and he just nods cheering you on, thrusting your hips onto him as you cream all over the fabric of his pants, clawing at his shoulders while you chew on your lip. hearing a grunt and a quiet growl from the man below you, both you and logan making a mess all over the jeans. you look at him with a smile, giggling about this whole situation, both you catching your breath as you give each other a sweet kiss.

[chestersturniolo]

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

• based on this request & chris saying he can never go to sleep on an argument •

｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡‎‧₊˚✧ ｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡‎‧₊˚✧ ｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡‎‧₊˚✧ ｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡‎‧₊˚✧

The argument had simmered down, but the tension between you and Chris was still thick.You sat curled up on the couch, arms crossed, refusing to look at him. Chris stood a few feet away, pacing slightly, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“I don’t even know why you’re so mad” he said, his voice tired and irritated

You shot him a glance, shaking your head,

“Of course you don’t” you mutter

That made him stop pacing. His shoulders tensed, and he let out a deep sigh, clearly trying to keep his cool. You could feel him looking at you, but you kept your eyes on the TV, pretending to care about the show playing in the background.

“y/n, c’mon. I’m trying to talk to you. Can we please just work this out?” His voice softened now, less confrontational.

You were still upset, your mind replaying the argument from earlier.

“I don’t want to talk right now” you say coldly.

Chris sighed again before taking a few steps toward you. “You know I hate this. I hate when we go to bed mad”

You ignored him, but he wasn’t about to give up that easily. “Seriously y/n... What if something happens tonight? What if we don’t get to fix this? I always apologize before bed… you know that”

The mention of that particular habit stung a bit. You knew about it—how Chris had once explained to you, half-joking but half-serious, that he had this rule with himself. He always apologized before going to bed, just in case. He’d even said something like, “What if one of us dies or something, and we didn’t make up?”

It had seemed silly back then, but now, in the quiet of your disagreement, it didn’t feel so ridiculous. But you were still annoyed.

“You don’t need to say that to try and make me feel guilty chris” you huff, standing from the couch. “i need some space”

Without another word, you walked toward the bedroom, leaving Chris standing there,defeated.

You heard him sigh as you closed the bedroom door behind you, and as much as it tugged at your heart, you couldn’t help but feel like you needed space. The weight of his earlier words still stung, and you didn’t feel like facing him right now. Not when your emotions were still raw.

You crawled into bed, pulling the blankets tightly around you, trying to block out the thoughts in your head. You weren’t sure how long you lay there, staring at the ceiling. Eventually, the exhaustion took over, and your eyelids grew heavy, your body giving in to rest.

Chris stood in the living room for what felt like forever after you left, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He hated this—hated the distance, the silence, and more than anything, hated that you had gone to bed without hearing him out.

He glanced at the clock. It was already late, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. You might have been done with the argument, but he couldn’t settle with it. Not like this.

After a few minutes of pacing, Chris made his way to the bedroom door, hesitating for a second before pushing it open. The room was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside. You were curled up on your side, your breathing soft, already fast asleep.

Chris bit his lip, standing there for a moment. He could leave you be, let you sleep, but the idea of going to bed himself while you were still upset? It wasn’t happening. He grabbed his gaming chair from the corner of the room and rolled it up beside the bed, settling into it with a quiet sigh. If he couldn’t fix things before going to sleep, he’d simply stay awake.

Sitting there in the stillness, Chris found himself watching you, his fingers anxiously picking at the edges of his nails. His mind kept racing, replaying the argument, the way your eyes had hardened at him. He hated that look, and more than anything, he hated knowing you went to sleep feeling like that.

Time passed slowly, the night stretching on. Chris kept his watchfulness, unable to tear his eyes away from you for too long.

~

At around 4am, you stirred, rolling over to get more comfortable. Your body felt heavy, still caught in that space between sleep and waking. Your eyes fluttered open, your heart immediately jumping, panic surging through your half-asleep mind,at the silhouette infront of you. But as your vision cleared, you realized it was Chris. He was sitting there in his gaming chair, his elbows resting on his knees, head down, biting his nails nervously.

You blinked, groggy and confused. “Chris? What are you doing?”

Chris looked up quickly, surprised that you were awake. His eyes were tired, a mixture of relief and exhaustion written across his face. “I stayed up” he said softly.

You frowned slightly, still half asleep and not fully processing what he was saying. “What? Are you crazy?”

Chris let out a small, tired chuckle, leaning back in his chair. “Ma, I told you… I can’t sleep when we’re like this. You didn’t wanna hear me out, so I stayed up”

You blinked again, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. Your heart softened at the sight of him, still sitting by your side, too stubborn to let go of his need to apologize. You felt a pang of guilt for being so distant, for shutting him out earlier.

“Chris…” you whispered, sitting up slightly “You didn’t have to stay up”

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did. You know I can’t just leave things like that”

You sighed, reaching over and grabbing his hand, pulling him closer. “You’re so stubborn”

He smiled softly, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Yeah, well, so are you”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at that, the tension between you two finally dissolving. You squeezed his hand, “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I was just… I don’t know, upset”

Chris shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I should’ve tried to see the point you were trying to make instead of blowing it up into an argument. I hate that you went to bed like that”

You tugged on his hand, pulling him closer to the edge of the bed. “Come here. You need sleep too”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to the empty space beside you. “Are we good?”

You nodded, giving him a soft, tired smile. “Yes Chris. We’re good”

With that, Chris finally stood up and climbed into bed beside you, immediately wrapping his arms around you as you curled into his chest. His warmth and presence instantly made you feel at ease, and the weight of the argument seemed so far away now.

“I love you” he whispered, his voice soft against your hair.

“I love you too” you mumbled, already drifting back to sleep in his arms, knowing that everything would be okay when the morning fully arrived.

｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡‎‧₊˚✧ ｡☾ ﾟ｡‎‧₊˚✧ ｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡‎‧₊˚✧ ｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡‎‧₊˚✧ ｡

A/N; thankyou sm for the request anon lylyly!!🫶🏼

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

something similar i’ve written here

MASTERLIST

taglist; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4

@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom

[littledovesnow]

a growing family pt. 2

a/n: yay for part 2!! read part one here

word count: 1.8k

warnings: pregnancy, pretty canon-level violence and stuff i think. also i'm sorry in advance about this part <3

-----

"Now, Mr. Snow, you and your wife leave tomorrow for your District Tour." Lucky Flickerman spoke into microphone, eyes bouncing between Coriolanus and you.

Coriolanus nodded, not quite sure where this was going. He was briefed on the. main topics that Flickerman would go over during the interview and this was not one of them.

"Is there any worry about the twins? Congratulations, by the way! Twins! How lucky are you!"

You smiled, patting your husband's hand to signal that you would answer this question.

"Thank you, Lucky," you started, sweet smile on your face. "I've been in conversation with my medical team, and we've all come to an agreement that it's quite safe for me to travel with Coriolanus and the rest of his cabinet. I'm not due for another couple of months, anyway."

Coriolanus smiled at you, voicing his answer, as well. "We've also spoken to the OB/GYN, and she will be joining us on the latter half of the tour. We hope she can just enjoy the travel, not needed for any medical emergencies."

Lucky nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Now, Coriolanus, you've mentioned in some changes to the Hunger Games in the coming years. We've had questions coming in from watchers, but first, a few words from our generous sponsors."

The red light went off on top of the cameras, and you let the superficial smile fall from your face, hand going to rub your lower back.

"Your back still hurt, love?" Coriolanus asked, noticing your discomfort.

"I think our kids are going to be soccer professional, Coryo." You grumbled, one of the twins had been kicking mercilessly for a few weeks.

Coriolanus chuckled, removing your hand, using his palm to massage the area. "Well, you can tell them off when they're out here."

Lucky, who had been observing the couple from his spot on the seat across from them, wore a smile. "One thing that my wife asked I do when she was pregnant with Caesar was massage her back every night. Sometimes she still makes me do it."

You smiled at the TV host, humming. "Not a bad idea. Coryo, I think I know what your next job will be."

Coriolanus snorted, hand still massaging your back. "Anything for the mother of my children."

-----

The train car you were currently seated in was more luxurious than you remembered, seats having been upholstered from your last trip out of the Capitol.

You looked away from the mountain ranges decorating the horizon when the door opened, Coriolanus entering.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, coming to sit in the seat across from you, moving your feet from the seat to his lap.

Humming, you leant your head back as he began massaging them. "Better now. What was that meeting for? I thought you had travel days free."

Coriolanus pondered over how to answer, not wanting to tell you he had just had some rebels executed for a potential threat in Six. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

Opening an eye to look at him, you could read the man like an open book. "How many were there?"

There was a beat of silence before Coriolanus spoke up.

"Four. Would have been three but some things you can't avoid."

You didn't reply, simply wiggling your foot when Coriolanus' hands stopped massaging the arch of your foot.

He laughed, resuming the action as you two watched the mountain ranges and nature outside of the train.

-----

You yawned, staring at the ceiling of the Crane's hotel in District Three. It was nearing one in the morning, and you had gotten a sum total of about two and a half hours since you and Coriolanus crawled into the bed.

Moving as quietly as you could, you rose from the bed, waiting a beat to see if Coriolanus woke up.

His rather loud snore told you he was still off dreaming, something you were thankful for. He had a lot on his shoulders, and you didn't want to add onto the never-ending pile of worry and stress with the upcoming election.

Moving to the bathroom, you softly closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. The twins had been keeping you up at night more frequently, and your OB/GYN said it was just because while they were starting to get a regular sleep pattern, they couldn't tell day from night and often slept during the day.

When you opened the door, you frowned when you saw your husband sitting up in the bed, cheek still indented from the creases in the pillow.

"What are you doing up?" He asked, voice hoarse from sleep.

Rubbing one hand across your ever-growing bump, sleepily blinking at the man across from you. "Your children are wide awake, it seems."

Coriolanus smiled, patting the spot you had previously occupied. "Come here, I'll rub your back."

With the promise of that, you made your way back into the bed, stuffing one of the many pillows on the bed between your knees.

"Oh, well hello, little one."

You looked at where Coriolanus was staring at your bump, tiny foot barely visible. "Oh that's the most disturbing thing I think I've ever seen."

"Don't say that!" Coriolanus chided, though there was a smile on his face. "That's your child in there!"

"Coryo, you shouldn't be able to see their hands from outside!" You laughed, even though your OB/GYN said it was very possible to start to see little hands and feet as there became less and less free space.

Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your hairline, rubbing the place where the foot was. "Hi, babies. Please let your mother sleep, she needs to help me win over the hearts of Panem."

Rolling your eyes, you moved Coriolanus' hand to your back, letting your head fall back against a pillow. "Rub my back."

"Yes dear."

-----

Hand clasped tightly in Coriolanus' you two followed the Peacekeepers to the barracks to meet with the district's mayor and Commanding Peacekeeper.

You two had won the hearts over a majority of each District you've visited, but as you two traveled farther from the Capitol, you knew it would be more difficult and the chance of threats and rebels increased.

The number of Peacekeepers surrounding you two had grown within each stop, Coriolanus wanting to make sure nothing happened to his wife and mother of his children, his heirs.

"Mr. and Mrs. Snow, we're very pleased you two could be here!" The mayor smiled, shaking both of your hands.

You returned the sentiment, eyes locked on the plush-looking chair behind him. "Is it alright if I sit? My feet are killing me."

The mayor, who seemed to have just realized how large your bump had grown, nodded quickly, gesturing to the chair you had pointed to.

Coriolanus stood behind you, one hand smoothing your hair as he and the mayor discussed the afternoon's speeches and tour around the main hub.

"Will you be joining us, Mrs. Snow?"

"No, she's been feeling a little more tired." Coriolanus replied before you could speak up.

The mayor frowned, seemingly disappointed.

"Is there a problem?" You asked, feeling Coriolanus' hand still at the nape of your neck.

"Well, the children here have been so excited to meet you, but I'm sure seeing Mr. Snow will be just as fine."

Coriolanus knew you had a soft spot for children, how they still saw the best in everything. "Love, you barely slept last night. It's safer if you rest."

"Coryo, it won't be too long. And besides, we have a couple travel days I can catch up on sleep."

You ignored your husband's deep frown, instead smiling at the mayor. "We can't possibly let the kids down, can we?"

The mayor clapped happily, rising from his seat. "Well then, shall we go?"

You stood from the chair with some help from your husband, who placed a hand on your lower back, unable to keep his hands off of you.

"You're a spoiled brat, you know that?" He whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"And you love me for it." You replied, sharp smile on your face.

-----

Coriolanus watched as you followed a few of the schoolchildren around the classroom, letting them explain the backgrounds of their various posters and projects.

"She's going to be a wonderful mother." The mayor spoke, standing next to Coriolanus.

He nodded, watching you kneel down to listen more to a rather small girl, your eyes focused on her entirely. "She already is."

"Mr. Snow, Mayor, we're going to be late if we don't head for the town square now."

Nodding, Coriolanus walked over to your side, kneeling down next to you and the young girl. "Hi, love. Mind introducing me to your friend?"

You looked at your husband, and then at the young girl. "Coryo, meet Clementine. Her friends call her Clemmie."

Coriolanus saw the twinkle in your eye as you looked back at the girl. "It's lovely to meet you, Clemmie. You know, Mrs. Snow and I have a friend named Clemmie."

"Really?" Little Clementine asked, eyes wide.

Nodding, Coriolanus helped you stand up straight. "We do, but don't worry, we can have two Clemmies. Now, I do have to steal Mrs. Snow now, we have to go to town square."

Clementine pouted, but nodded. "It was nice to meet you!"

"You, too, Clemmie! Good luck with your new brother!" You smiled, squeezing Coriolanus' hand as the two of you followed some Peacekeepers out of the school and down to the town square and stage.

You've only seen the stage on television for the Reaping Ceremonies, it looked larger on screen. "She was so sweet, Coryo. She was telling me how her mother looked like me and now she has a little brother."

Coriolanus smiled, thumb rubbing your hand. "That's very sweet. I'm sure you made her ent-"

A loud explosion cut Coriolanus off, Peacekeepers immediately springing into action, separating the two of you to get you both to safety.

There were a few more explosions around the stage, sending debris and dirt in the air.

"Coryo!" You called, trying to wriggle out of the Peacekeepers' grip and find your husband.

You coughed as you inhaled smoke, eyes wide to spot Coriolanus. "Let me go! I need to find Coriolanus!"

"Ma'am, you need to come with us! We have orders to bring both you and Mr. Snow to a safe room, please cooperate."

You had a disdain for the Peacekeeper who spoke to you rather harshly, feeling his hands tighten their grip on your bicep.

Stumbling a few times, you had finally made it to the small bunker, heart hammering when you saw Coriolanus and the mayor already in there, dirt on both of their faces and clothing.

"Love," Coriolanus sighed in relief, though it was short-lived as he ran his eyes over your body. "Love, you're bleeding."

-----

a/n: oh how i love a good cliff-hanger

[348kg]

blow your mind (jongseob)

ꕤ kim jongseob 김종섭 (jongseob) x reader

18+ mdni

wc : 3.4k

tags : afab reader, fluff and crack if you squint, smut, vaginal sex, oral sex (both ways), vaginal fingering, cum swallowing, seob is a virgin, original characters, soul mentioned

synopsis : your best friend asks you to help him get ready for a date

part two

an : my account has grown so much and it's only been a week thank u!!! i'm lurking on x for all the p1 waterbomb content rn i'm going insane

"you're a virgin?"

jongseob's eyes widened and he could feel his face turn red as he shot you a glare.

"what's wrong with that?"

"nothing's wrong!" you throw your hands up in defense. "i just saw you sneak into a bedroom with a girl at shota's party last month, so i assumed."

"we made out and did... other things. but it didn't escalate past that."

you nodded, shifting in your spot on jongseob's bedroom floor. "so what are you asking me right now?"

he takes a bite of his samgyetang and doesn't dare look you in the eye. "minju asked me to hangout at her house on friday and i wanna be ready."

"so you wanna fuck?"

"well when you put it like that—"

"why me? being able to say you lost your v-card to bae minju is something to brag about."

"it would be less awkward with you, i think. you're... experienced, right?"

"yeah, but having drunk sex once doesn't make me an all-knowing prostitute, seob." you giggle, pretending to look into an imaginary crystal ball. he doesn't seem to find it funny.

"i just thought i'd ask, if you don't want to then it's okay."

you shake your head, scooting closer to him so that you're side by side, arms grazing his. "i'll do it." his head shoots up. "i just don't want your expectations to be crazy high. i'm not that freaky."

he laughs before his face turns serious again. "are you sure? did i pressure you?"

"oh my god, seobie. yes, i'm sure. when did you say you were going to minju's?"

"friday night."

"okay, so we have," you grab your phone to check the time. "five days. let's take it slow? we can do other stuff first."

"other stuff? as in...?"

"what, you wanted to get straight to it?"

"NO! i mean— no. we can do other stuff first, yeah."

"great. wanna start now?" the way you were being so nonchalant and casual about everything had jongseob sweating.

"now? right here?"

"on your bed, dumbass. unless you want to finger me on the floor." oh. jongseob was not unaccustomed to your blunt way of speaking, but he swore the temperature in the room dropped 5 degrees when you stood up and turned around to offer your hand to help him up too. you hoped he didn't notice how much your palms were sweating. you crawled onto his bed, leaning against the wall and burned holes in the back of his head as you watched him turn the lights down.

"how do you wanna do this?" he asked, voice low as he situated himself next to you.

"you tell me! this was your idea." the way you were staring at him gave him the confidence to wrap his hands around your waist and haul you into his lap. you squealed, giggling as you felt him place his big hands on the sides of your thighs. jongseob wasn't sure if he should kiss you— something that would make this feel a little too intimate— which was a boundary he wasn't sure you were okay with crossing, so he opted for the next best thing. he lowered his head, nudging your chin with his nose so he'd have better access to your neck.

the first thing you feel is his teeth scraping against you before his lips close around your skin. your breath hitched as he sucked and kissed bruises into your neck, your eyes trained on his ceiling as he adjusted the neckline of your shirt to expose your collarbones. you let out a whine when he started to pinch your nipples through your shirt as he attached himself to you again. you were sure when you left his place later your neck would be entirely purple.

you inhale sharply when he suddenly detaches from you with a pop, hands gripping your waist again to flip you so you were no longer facing him. your back was now flat against his, his hands still on your waist as sounds of his breathing filled your ear. you felt him fiddle with the outline of your panties that poked out of your pants slightly.

"is this okay?" he whispered, and you mindlessly nodded, completely wrecked just by the sound of his voice. it was a joint effort as you both began tugging your pants down, followed by your lacy panties that you hoped he thought were pretty. it didn't matter since they were immediately thrown to the floor as his hand snuck between your legs.

you gasped and your eyes squeezed shut when you felt his fingers begin to trace a path around your core. he spread your slick around, testing the waters before he slowly rubbed at your clit.

"fuck, how're you so wet already?"

"been horny all week. oops." your giggle turns into a moan as he circles your clit at a pace that has you losing control, legs twitching and mouth snapping open. without thought, your hips desperately buck upwards into nothing as strangled sounds escape your mouth.

you reach behind you to grip his arm with one hand and bed sheets with the other. "seobie, fuck!" he continues to massage your clit as he slowly slipped a finger inside your sopping hole, and you only register then just how big his hands are, as you feel him reach so deep inside you that it has you gasping for air and breathing his name. he curls his fingers inside of you, moving them in and out at a similar pace to his other hand. the only sound you could hear in his room was your pussy squelching with every movement he made.

it was so, so wrong that jongseob was the one to elicit these noises from you, but the thrill of having your best friend in this way— in this unfamiliar, uncharted way— only pushed you closer to your limit. the way he whispered in your ear, telling you how good you were doing for him did not help as you began to see stars, hips matching the speed of his hands as they pathetically rutted upwards every time he hit that spot.

"don't stop— oh my god, seob, seob, seob. i'm so close."

he pressed his fingers hard against your walls. "i got you, go on."

lewd, broken moans spill from your lips as your orgasm hit you at full force, walls sucking his fingers inside, cum leaking out of you onto his bed sheets. the only thing keeping you in place is his chest, and you leaned into it as your body spasmed, looking down at yourself to see the mess you made of his bedding and to watch his fingers slow down and eventually slip out of you.

you lay against him for a moment, panting, taking a second to come back to reality before you shoot up, spinning around to slap his arm.

"ow!"

"seob! i thought you said you were inexperienced! that was insane! i don't think i've ever finished that hard on a guy's fingers in my life!" he sits in shock as you ramble, and a grin slowly creeps its way onto his face.

"i've never had sex. never said i wasn't good at the other stuff." your jaw drops, and suddenly you are very aware that your entire lower half is fully exposed to him, so you stand up and scan the room for the spot that your clothes were thrown to. he fiddled awkwardly with his hands as he watched you get dressed.

"so..." you start, "i forgot i have plans with joohyun tonight. she just texted." you hold your phone up to show him. "can we continue this tomorrow?"

he stared at you, now stood in his doorway. "i— yeah. same time, same place?" his palms were sweating at the sight of your pretty face that was now completely disheveled because of him.

"yeah. i'll return the favor, too. bye, seobie." he opens his mouth to say something in response, but you're already out the door.

-

you

[8:34pm] im omw!!!

seobie 🐯

[8:39pm] ordering food now u want wings?

you quickly typed out a reply before shoving your phone back into your pocket. you felt the tips of your ears burning, as they had been every time an image of jongseob's face popped into your head during the last 24 hours. it only registered with you when you had gotten home the night before that you had gotten yourself in deep shit, considering that you didn't think any guy would be able to get you off with his fingers again after the stunt jongseob pulled. if he was as good with his mouth as he was with his fingers— which you were sure he was, given the way he could rap— then you were absolutely screwed.

you could feel arousal pool between your legs as you walked down a side street towards jongseob's apartment, thinking about how good he would feel with his face between your legs, his hands wandering all over— you paused, noticing that you had somehow walked 4 blocks in what seemed like 30 seconds, and were now stood outside of jongseob's building.

you text him to buzz you in, which he does, and you felt your hands shake as you hiked the stairs up to the third floor. you had no idea why, he was the same seobie he'd always been, except now he knew what your vagina looked like. so what?

you let yourself in with the spare key he'd given you when he first moved in, and you find him sat in his desk chair scrolling on his phone. you slide your bag off your arm and mindlessly toss it into a corner with a thud to signal your entrance to him.

"hey."

"hi, seobie." you sit on the edge of his bed and he moves to sit next to you. you tug at his shirt. "this new?"

"uh, yeah. i got it last week."

"it's nice. you wanna take it off?" he turns to you, dumbfounded at your straightforwardness, and watches in awe as you immediately begin to peel your tank top off your body, leaving you in only a sheer blue bralette that showed off your perky tits and the outline of your nipples. jongseob's cheeks flush and he can feel his dick harden in his sweatpants at the sight of the hickeys he had left on your body. you crawl closer to him and smile as you touch his arm. he wordlessly tosses his baggy t-shirt to the side and pulls you to straddle his lap.

he tugs on your bra. "this is pretty."

"thank you. i thought you'd like it." you whisper, and he feels the wind get knocked out of him.

jongseob remembered in that moment that all of this— all of you— was supposed to be getting him ready to please another girl. he definitely found himself forgetting after you left the night before, recalling how he relentlessly jerked himself off in his shower with you in mind, the noises he evoked from you and the facial expressions you made as he worked you through you orgasm taking over his thoughts.

he doesn't even register that you had ducked down and started to suck at his collarbone, mumbling something along the lines of said i'd return the favor. you use your tongue to lick a path down his chest, sucking bruises into his skin the same way he did to you, and his breathing picks up as he watches you drop to your knees. you hook your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and tug them down with no hesitation. you're slightly overwhelmed by how big he looks, intimidated by the tent in his boxers. you finally tear the fabric away to reveal his cock— which is just as long and girthy as you expected— and it hits his stomach with a dull thud.

you slide your hand up his length a few times, to get a better feel of his size, and he lets out a low, strangled groan as he grips the edge of his bed. it's hot to the touch and is already dripping with precum, so you take him in your mouth, smearing the salty pre against your tongue.

he cries out, and it turns you on in a way you can't describe. every sound he made because of you had your panties dampening by the second, a soft moan that left your lips was muffled by his tip in your mouth. your tongue licked at his tip painfully slow, and it had jongseob's hands moving to your hair as begs spilled from his lips.

"holy shit, yn, please, please."

he sinks deeper into your mouth, thighs threatening to close around your head in pleasure as the underside of his cock slides against your tongue. you take him down your throat inch by inch, as far as your gag reflex would allow. you wrap a hand around the base of his cock when you feel like you can't push any further. you started to move your head up and down, tears pricking your eyes at the way your jaw ached every time his length hit the back of your throat.

you were a gagging, choking mess, and jongseob couldn't hold back as he subconsciously began to thrust his hips upwards, fucking your throat.

"holy fuck i'm so fucking close holyfuckholyfuck." a string of curses left his mouth before he let out one final cry of your name, ropes of come squirting out of his tip as he wrecked your throat. you grin when you finally pull off of him, wiping the mixture of spit and cum off your chin. you watch his chest rise and fall as he laid back against his mattress to catch his breath.

"please," he breathes out, causing your ears to perk up. "please let me eat your pussy."

you let out a laugh at his desperation, but don't say anything in opposition as you tug your pants off and join him on the bed. he repositions himself so that his head is on his pillow and you throw one of your legs over his body so that they rested on either side of him and your core hovered over his face, his hands now rooted on your hips to hold you in place. his nose nudged your blue panties that matched your bralette and he used his teeth to pull at the fabric before he moved his hand farther up your thigh to rip them off of you and discard them to the floor.

you throw your head back as his tongue made contact with your sopping hole, swirling it around the rim. your hands fly to hold onto his headboard when he tilts his head upwards so that he could suck your swollen clit into his mouth, whimpers leaving your lips as a sudden pang of jealousy hits you when you thought about the other girls jongseob had probably done this with. you have no idea why.

his head moved at a steady rhythm as he licked through your folds over and over, tongue flicking upwards whenever he circled back to your clit. your toes curled and your back arched with every stroke, waves of pleasure pulsing through your body. he grunted and whined into your cunt as you grinded against his face, desperately chasing the high you felt coming closer every time he stuck his tongue in your entrance or harshly sucked your clit.

your legs trembled and your grip on his bed frame hardened as you flooded his tongue, screaming his name when he did one final swipe through your slit to lap up your fluids, leaving only his spit after he finally pulled away.

when your legs stopped shaking and your senses came back to you, you shuffled down his body so that your hips were touching, lifting yours up slightly so he could sit up and have you on his lap again. you felt his rock hard cock press against you and you don't even register that you had leaned forward to kiss him until you felt his hands cupping your cheeks and his tongue moving against yours. he kissed you with a pent-up passion that could only come from a first kiss, and you could taste yourself on him and it made you moan out loud into his mouth. he kissed you harder to swallow any sounds you were making.

you hated how good it felt to be held by him like this, knowing that it wasn't truly for you, but you were willing to take what you could get. jongseob, on the other hand, could only think about how he was never going to look in another girl's direction again.

"mmphm. seobie." you whined and he realized your bra was still on when the mesh of it rubbed against his chest, so he went to fiddle with the strap and peel it off of you, arm by arm. he grabbed your tit and pinched at your hard nipples, never getting enough of the sounds that came out of your mouth for him. you pulled away from him— immediately missing the feeling of his mouth on yours— and batted your lashes at him.

"do you wanna do it now?" he stared at you, head nodding vehemently. you grinned at the way his cock twitched just at the idea of being inside of you. in a sudden movement, he surged forward to hook his forearms under your thighs and flip your position so that he was on top of you, your head hitting his pillow. he lifted his hips until the head of his cock caught on your clit, hips pulling back after to drag it through your slit and eventually to your entrance.

"you're sure?" you mumble, and he doesn't hesitate to slide inside of you. you didn't remember him being this big in your throat but apparently he was, because you felt like you were being split apart, mouth agape and eyes shutting as he pressed deeper inside of you. he's kissing you before you have the chance to breathe, kissing you with so much fervor that had you questioning everything you've ever felt towards him. he pulled away and pressed his forehead into your shoulder. you found yourself doubting that he was a virgin, considering the way he seemed so familiar with his thrusts. you could feel him in your stomach as he pounded into you, feeling every inch, throb and twitch of his cock against your walls.

his hand gripped your hip and you tilted your head to watch his mushroom tip slip in and out of you, moaning at the sound of your own wetness. you wrap your legs around his middle and he lifts his hips up to fuck you at an angle that had you losing vision, your grunts and moans mixing together as he bends down to reconnect your lips for the third time tonight.

he speeds up, hips now moving at a pace that has your jaw snapping open. you don't even have to tell him that you're close, the way your moans of his name became more incoherent and the way your face began to crumple were signal enough. he moved his hand from your hip to between your thighs as he incessantly rubbed your clit, kissing your neck as you babbled praise against him, pleasure becoming overwhelming.

"oh, fuck." jongseob could barely hear his own voice breaking as you squeezed around him, his arms shook overtop of you and his thrusts became messier at the sound of you calling for him.

"jongseob! gonna— gonna come!" you sobbed, unable to stop the tears from flowing down your face, and you reached to pull him closer to you as you came around him. your gummy walls squeezed impossibly tighter, fluttering around his now twitching cock as he pulled out and spilled onto your stomach. he flopped down beside you, pressing kisses wherever his lips could reach as you both floated back to consciousness.

you shifted in your spot to look at him. "i don't believe you."

"huh?'

"you are not a virgin!"

"what? yes i am— ah— was." he sputters and you giggle, moving next to him to drape your arm over his middle and rest your face against his neck. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then grabbed your chin to angle your face so he could kiss your lips. you sigh.

"seobie?" he hums in response.

"what about minju?"

"…who?"

© 348kg please do not copy my work

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

I just had the Idea, like Imagine, the S/o from Muzan, Koku, Douma and Akaza (seperate) finds a spider and is REALLY Scared of it. How would they react?

The mental image of the S/O shrieking in terror and one of these men just absolutely pegging it all the way from one side of the house to the other just to find out its a spider that scared the S/O amuses me greatly (≧▽≦)

Also I have arachnophobia and honestly spiders get my skin crawling in terror... they just give me the ick

Honestly thanks for sliding this into my askbox! It was fun to imagine and write what these men would think and do during such a scenario!

Muzan Kibutsuji, Kokushibo, Douma/Doma + Akaza reacting to their S/O being scared of a spider - Headcanons:

Muzan Kibutsuji:

He was just doing an experiment, just messing around with chemicals to get a reaction

When he hear's you scream

Fucking speed demon o'hoy as he speeds across the house to find you, nails hardening and lengthen and tentacles wanting to burst out from his skin to get rid of what's harmed you

And when he reaches where you are, hands cracking the foundations of the door with a snarl on his lips until his eyes land on you

Muzan stands there - his fear quells and is instead replaced with a thankful neutrality - breathing slowly reverting back to normal as he takes in your shaken form standing on one of the tables in the home's library

With a quirk of his brow his gaze drifts to where your shaking finger points and lands on the calm + poised form of a spider

Muzan stares at it

The spider stares back

Before it's promptly squished under a book

Your carried out of the room like a bride

"For scaring me you get to sit in my lab" Muzan says, going back to mixing chemicals "And if your good, it'll be me that makes you scream in ecstasy later"

Muzan knows spider's scare you so usually just kills them before you see one - although the odd few go get to live

Kokushibo:

Kokushibo was meditating - his usual activity after a long day

It's silent, the house in a state of stillness and the world outside holding it's breathe as Kokushibo breathes in...then out..

And its shattered by your scream of fear

His body moves quicker than his mind

Hand on his katana as he rushes to where you are and as see's you cowering in the hallway, eyes flicking to and fro to see where your fear is placed to see the 8-legged fiend

"It's a spider...." He states plainly, eyes blinking as his stance relaxes "......again?"

"Can you please make it go away!" You whisper-shout, eyes peaking through your fingers at him "It's really scary"

Kokushibo simply sighs

Moving silently to catch the spider with a drinking cup and a piece of parchment from the ceiling and releasing it outside

He picks you up and dusts you off with a small smile

"Next time just shout my name, I'll handle the spiders"

Douma/Doma:

Douma/Doma had just finished a sermon

Narrowly escaping his followers clutches from having to give more false kindness and advice that he probably didn't mean

Until he hears you scream

Fear flushes his insides cold and worry makes his chest ache as he runs to your shared quarters

First, he blinks - taking in the scene of your shaking form and the rather harmless spider on the wall

Then his brain starts working at a mile a minute before everything clicks into place

You (S/O) + Spider + Scream from you = Fear = New form of entertainment

Douma/Doma smirks - something filled with malice and a polite mock sympathy - before making his way across the room to soothe you

Before promptly catching the spider and chasing you with it...

Yes, this is funny for him and no, he won't stop until he's tired

After having his fun - for what felt like a millennia - Douma/Doma releases the spider outside

And with a chuckle, kisses your forehead and leaves you

Douma/Doma just doesn't understand why you're scared of spiders until you sit down with him before bed and tell him off for earlier

After that he orders his followers to either kill spiders on sight or move them into the garden

Akaza:

He was training in the garden when he heard you scream out in terror

Making record time to get to you by simply leaping from the garden through the bedroom's open window

Eyes moving wildly trying to find the source of your terror - his heart aching when seeing your eyes shimmering with tears and a scared wobble to your lip

Until landing on the black mass on the floor scuttling about... "a....a spider?" He says inquisitively, his head tilting in confusion

When he realizes that it was the spider that made you scream, Akaza kinda just stares at it for a little while before joining you on the bed to get away from it and soothe you

Then 5 minutes roll into 10 minutes and your both sat there, chilling on the bed in a hug and waiting for the spider to leave

"It's gone now...."

Accidentally stands on the spider

Yes, he screams

No, the spider doesn't make it

But you do get to laugh

Akaza now doesn't go near spiders....

[lowkeycasanova]

Hiiii! Can you write about Zoro being really needy for Y/N when he’s horny? The idea of him lowkey letting go of the tough guy act and being a little submissive is so hot

Needy

Zoro needs some "help" getting off

zoro x f!reader

warning: smut

While in the middle of doing your morning routine in the bathroom, you heard the shuffling of the sheets through the cracked door, and presumed that Zoro finally woke up. Upon hearing what sounded like soft moans, you furrowed a brow. Peeking through the door and turning your head in the direction of the sounds, you blinked a couple times to adjust your eyes to the darkness in the bedroom as the sun wasn't completely up.

You see Zoro sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to you. One arm holding his weight as his hand pressed into the sheets, and the other in front of him while he hung his head. He's doing exactly what you thought.

You step closer and watch as he slowly pumps himself, unable to stop the desperate grunts that were leaving his mouth. Bringing yourself closer to him, you get comfortable right behind him, resting on your knees while you press your chin to his shoulder.

He's not startled by your presence, more like relaxed, as if he knew you were already there. He extends his neck and looks towards the ceiling. You press a kiss to his jawline and felt his carotid artery pulsating.

Your hands roam the expanse of his back. From his waist to his shoulders, you massage the ample flesh, taking a moment to admire his muscles.

His legs are spread with his hand wrapped around his cock that's dripping an embarrassing amount of precum.

The sight alone makes you become slick between your thighs. Your soft fingers dance across the skin of his toned chest, your mouth to his ear. "You're so hard." your hot breath fans across him, making him even more sensitive.

"No shit." he breaths. "What are we gonna do about it?"

"Not we....you."

He tilts his head to the side to face you. The hopeful anticipation crumbling into confusion. "Excuse me?" he furrows his brows.

"Remember last week when you had me get off on my own because you wanted to watch? Well now it's my turn."

He frowns at your sternness but you don't miss the slight pout. As he looks into your eyes, he hopes that you change your mind. You stand your ground.

He tsked in annoyance and shuffled himself to get his head back on the pillow while you shifted away.

He starts with thumbing his slit, drawing small circles and hissing from how sensitive he was. Then proceeding to start pumping the shaft of his cock, slicking noises filling the room along with his heavy pants and moans. Glancing at you every couple seconds, he takes in the way the outline your nipples peek through your shirt to help him out as your not wearing a bra. His eyes drop further down to your thighs, wishing they were spread open for him.

Time ticked by and he had his lip pulled between his teeth, head back, and thighs tensed. You watched in awe as he jerked himself off. His toes are scrunched, and when his grip tightens around his cock, his hips buck and a small moan escapes his lips, like a much needed breath. But he can't cum too fast.

Then he slows his pace, paying more attention to his tip, flicking his thumb over it, imagining you sucking him and taking all his precum in your mouth.

"That's it." you tell him.

You crawl over to lay beside him, shoulder to shoulder. This is the best view and your mouth begins to water. It takes everything in you to not give into temptation and to stand on your word.

With tentative fingers, you slightly brush the skin of his thigh and draw lazy patterns on his skin. A shiver runs down his spine and Zoro watches as maybe, just maybe you'll reach his cock. You don't.

"Fucking tease." he grunts and swiftly averts his gaze. You smile.

His brows knitted together as he worked his hand up and down, the flushed, wet head vanishing and reappearing. You continued your movements and a whine escaped from his throat as hooded eyes followed your every move.

"Keep going." you instruct.

"But I-"

"Keep going." you cut him off.

"Fuck." he groaned so deep that you knew he was close.

"You can do it. You deserve it." your encouragement in a soft tone is what got him.

His breathing sputters as he cums. Thick white ropes paint his abs along with his knuckles and it seems like every muscle in his body tenses. He doesn't stop just yet because the friction is just that good. But when he finally finishes, he looks down as sees you taking a hold of his hand to wipe the cum from his knuckles with your fingers and taste him.

Damn it. His mind was fuzzy enough.

He likes to think that you don't know what you're doing to him, but that's not the case. You're very much aware and knowing that you're the one that can make him go from growling to a sputtering mess felt like a superpower.

[alixmarauders]

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x fem reader

angst / fluff

word count: 1.2 k words

CW: mention of an abusive household

TW: panic attack, it’s not a super detailed scene but it takes up like 1/3 of the fic 🩷

tag list: @staarflowerr @liviessun @reggieswriter @call-me-mishi @moonyxoxo @jaguarthecat @queerndepressed @kerst666 @delusional-4-fake-people @twilightlover2007

part 1 , part 2 , part 3

Unfortunately, you couldn’t ignore your feelings forever, and you had to learn it in the hard way.

You were feeling slightly anxious, but it wasn’t something you weren’t used to, so you just shoved everything down like you always did and started studying. Ten minutes in, your hands were slightly shaking, but still you brushed it off, until it became so bad you hit your ink bottle, spilling the black liquid all over your papers.  

Suddenly you were in your old room, sat at your little pink desk, staring at the mess in front of you, the tears flowing freely at the prospect of having ruined all of your drawings, while your mother was screaming  at you for being so emotional; to her eyes your emotions were a burden, something to be ashamed of, if you cried you were considered a failure. Pretending to be heartless wasn’t really a choice growing up, more like a way to survive.

Your breath became laboured, suddenly the walls of your room were closing on you, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Your hands were now violently shaking, your heart galloping in your chest: you felt a sharp pain to your chest. You tried calling for someone, anyone, but your voice came out as a whisper. This was the first time something like this happened, your symptoms were just like the ones that people describe before having an heart attack: this didn’t help your anxious state, at all. 

You saw through blurry eyes Dorcas and Marlene by the door, their mood rapidly shifting, Cas rushing to you while the other one ran out of your dorm, and you could just feel grateful for being found.  

“Heart… attack, Cas” She shook her head. “Honey, I think it’s a panic attack. Come on, breathe.”

You didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath, maybe that’s why your head started feeling lighter. You inhaled sharply, mimicking Dorcas, who was now holding one of your hands on her chest, encouraging you to follow her movements.

Little by little, you felt your heart beating a little bit slower, your hands now only trembling slightly. After a while, Cas stopped exaggerating her breaths, and you fell in an uncomfortable silence. “Listen, Y/N, we have to go to the infirmary.” You started to protest, but she shushed you. “We have to, okay? You have to talk to a doctor about this, I think it was just a panic attack, but we can’t be too sure. Marlene’s waiting for us, let’s go”

You laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Madame Pomfrey told the girls to leave, you had to rest, but now you were feeling even more anxious: you thought about all the studying you were missing on to stare at the ceiling. It was pointless, she confirmed it was a panic attack, so what? You couldn’t spend the whole weekend on a hospital bed for it.

You stopped your sulking abruptly, seeing some type of movement in your peripheral vision.  It was slight, so much so that you thought you had imagined it, but then James’s head pop out of nowhere, making you nearly scream.

“Love, we have to talk, but we can’t do it here. So, crawl to me, we’re going to escape” Despite the fight you had, you couldn’t help but giggle slightly, doing as you were told. Once you were both under the invisibility cloak, staring into each other eyes, James sighed slightly, releasing a sigh. “Darling, we’re so, so sorry you have no idea how much. Dorcas told us you had a panic attack, we know we caused it” He kissed your forehead, making you melt under his touch. “The others are waiting for us, let’s go”

So, you followed him, paying extra attention to not make any noise. As soon as you stepped foot in the astronomy tower, Sirius ran to you, hugging you close to his chest. You stayed like that for a while, until you felt him sniffle: looking up to his eyes, they were puffy and red. “Angel, I am an awful boyfriend” You were about to contradict him, but he kept talking. “You had a panic attack and it was all my fault, if you want to break up, you’re totally right: I’ll leave, I shouldn’t have told you all of those things, you are the love of my life, and I messed everything up like I always do, I’m such a shitty-“

You slapped his face slightly, making him startle, then proceeded to kiss him. He melted under your touch, his hands found their way to your waist, holding you impossibly close to him.

After a while, you sighed, pulling yourself away from his embrace. “It wasn’t completely your fault, you know. I haven’t told you this yet, well, maybe I wasn’t even planning to, but I owe you an explanation. My parents weren’t… the best, and I’ve always been emotional. I know it might sound strange, but I cried literally at everything, and they used to shout at me for being weak. So, I had to build some type of armour, you know?” You took a deep breath, smiling despite the sharp pain you felt every time you talked about it, and the knot that made talking feel impossible. “It hurts to think about it, you know?”

“You don’t have to talk about it, we get it. It’s just- Why didn’t you tell us sooner? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, we would have been more careful” James looked at you like his heart just broke.

“I know, I should have, but I didn’t want to be a burden. Sirius receives those stupid letters every month, what I went through is nothing compared to what his family does to this day. My mother hasn’t reached out in what? Three years? It’s not a problem anymore, I just get overwhelmed sometimes”

Remus was frowning, but it was Sirius to talk. “Listen, just because they aren’t there to belittle you every chance they get, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you; these things are hard to get rid of, and I know this better than anyone else. Your body remembers what they told you, and you have to face that, but you don’t have to do it alone, understood? You can talk to us, you can tell us what you need, and we will do it for you, because we love you, and we’ll always be there for you”

You didn’t know if it was Sirius’s words or the fact that for the first time, you felt like you were being listened to, but as soon as the long-haired guy stopped talking you started crying like you hadn’t cried in a long time, your chest heaving. Your inner child was just now understanding that her feeling had always been valid, that she had never been too much.

“Love, what happened, please talk to us?” James voice sounded close to crying, but you just smiled through the tears, shaking your head.

“I-“ You stopped, clearing your throat. “I finally feel seen”

And as they crowded on you, hugging you close to their chest, you knew you’d be alright.

THIS IS THE LAST PART! IF YOU HAVE SOME REQUESTS SEND THEM 👯‍♀️💓

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (i)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.

A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3

Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.

Apparently. 

On God, he cannot fathom why.

He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.  

By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.  

“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.

“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. 

“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused. 

He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.

“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 

Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”

“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 

“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”

His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.  

“And also you signed the contract.”

Well. Shit. 

Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.

Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week. 

“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”

The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling. 

“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”

Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.

Maya stares at him.

Bucky stares back.

“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”

“No.” 

The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.

“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”

“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”

A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive. 

“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”

Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.

So they stick him in a couple of interviews.

Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.

Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.

He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.

They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.

They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there. 

The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks. 

They give him access to his Twitter. 

He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening. 

Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 

“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening. 

It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it. 

Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.

He begrudgingly agrees. 

Therefore, it begins. 

They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 

Then the jokes really start.

“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution. 

Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.  

He is not put in another video. 

And so he finds himself here. 

In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.

Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.

“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”

“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”

Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up. 

“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows. 

“No.” 

For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 

“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”

Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad. 

Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 

“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”

Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily. 

“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”

While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now. 

Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”

He wordlessly shakes his head. 

Been the former, seen too much of the latter.

Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”  

He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question. 

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”

“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”

“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.

“Other people have seen ghosts.”

“Good for other people.”

The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked. 

“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”

Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night. 

“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”

You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.

“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly. 

“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”

“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 

“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.

“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”

“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them. 

You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.

“Do you know what skinwalkers are?” 

“No.”

“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.

Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.  

“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”

“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–” 

“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum. 

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 

He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it. 

You were… loud. And open. 

Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium. 

Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”

Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.

“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”

Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.

“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”

 “Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow. 

“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.

“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”

“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates. 

“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”

“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head. 

“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”

“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”

“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.

Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues. 

“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.

Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. 

Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.

“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud. 

He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.

“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.

Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?” 

“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”

“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”

Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?

Yay. 

“One video,” he reiterates.

You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly. 

“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table. 

Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”

He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3

Next part

[nhaaauyen]

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART IV: TONIGHT, I WALK AWAY

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part I // part II // part III // part V

wc: 7.8k cw: violence, angst, major character death author's note: Honestly I'm starting to get why TWD writers do what they do after writing this chapter... I also apologize for taking so long for this chapter, my classes are starting now so updates will be a bit a slower </3 **also some eastereggs but the sonnet 73 quote I have is mentioned in the scene where Grayson talks about love. It's pretty much the translated modern English definition of the quote! The make a wish dialogue is also from the movie Dangerously Yours (1937), that scene always gets me so I had to include it haha

You drift in and out of consciousness, the world around you a hazy blur of pain and disjointed voices. Through the fog, you catch glimpses of three figures engaged in intense discussion.

Sevika's there, her face etched with worry. Beside her stands a tall, bald gaunt man and a mask covering the lower half of his face. His eyes are sunken, giving him an almost skeletal appearance. The third figure is shorter, with slicked-back dark hair and a prominent scar running down one side of his face, his right eye a striking shade of green.

Their voices filter through your muddled thoughts:

"...low on medical supplies for a procedure like this," the masked man says, his voice muffled and clinical. "There's no sure chance she can make it."

"I'll go to the hospital."

"It’s too dangerous." The scarred man's voice is sharp and skeptical.

"We've been low on supplies for too long," Sevika argues. "It's time we do it now. We cannot lose any more people."

Their words fade as you slip back into darkness, only to resurface again as you're being moved. You have no idea how much time has passed, but you're on some kind of gurney, the ceiling passing by overhead. You try to move, but your limbs feel heavy and unresponsive. Glancing down, you see your wrists are handcuffed to the sides of the bed.

Panic surges through you as you realize you're being rolled into what looks like a makeshift operating room. The masked man and the scarred one are there, now wearing blood-stained surgical gowns. You try to fight, to call out, but your body won't cooperate.

The scarred man leans over you, his mismatched eyes boring into yours. "It will be over soon," he says, his voice oddly soothing despite the circumstances. Then he's lowering a gas mask over your face, and the world fades to black.

When you wake again, your mind is clearer, though your body feels like it's been run over by a truck. The scarred man is sitting in a chair beside your bed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"Ah, you're awake," he says, leaning forward. "Good. I was beginning to wonder if we'd miscalculated."

You try to speak, but your throat is dry, raw. He holds up a hand, silencing you.  

"No need to strain yourself. I just wanted to... observe you.” He pauses. "It's been a long time since I've had to perform a procedure like that. It’s quite a reminder of what still lurks beyond these walls. How we’ve grown complacent."

Your eyes drift to his face, lingering on the scar that runs down the right side, bisecting his eye. The eye itself is a startling shade of green, almost luminescent against his pale skin. You must have been staring, because the man chuckles, a dry, humorless sound.

"Curious, aren’t you?" A sardonic smile twists his features. "It’s only natural - people always wonder. But few ever ask. It’s a souvenir from when Zaun was still crawling out of the muck. When men I called brothers tried to drag me back down for a piece of land." 

His finger traces the scar slowly, almost lovingly. "This... this was their parting gift." He trails off, then continues in a near-whisper. "Have you ever felt pain so exquisite it becomes transcendent? For days, I danced on the knife's edge between genius and madness."

His gaze refocuses on you, sharp and penetrating. "But pain, you see, can be transformative. It stripped away my naivety, my weakness. It forged me into something stronger, something capable of truly leading Zaun."

“I think I understand why Sevika is so fond of you." His lips curl into something that might be a smile but doesn't reach his eyes. "There's something in you, just like her. That part that's willing to sacrifice."

You furrow your brow, confusion, and wariness warring inside you.

"Some sacrifices are necessary to be made. But they're also weaknesses," He stands, smoothing down his shirt. "Something to consider."

With those cryptic words, he turns and leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. You're left alone, your mind racing with questions. Who were those men? What exactly happened to you? And how much time had gone by?

The weight of uncertainty presses down on you, and exhaustion soon follows. Despite your churning thoughts, your eyelids grow heavy, and you drift into an uneasy sleep.

When you wake again, its by the sound of shuffling feet and the creak of a door opening. The haze of sleep still clings to your mind as you slowly become aware of your surroundings.

Sevika enters, holding a plate of food. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

"Hey," she says finally, her voice softer than you've ever heard it.

"Hey yourself," you reply, unable to keep a slight tremor from your voice.

Sevika sets the plate on your bedside table, then stands awkwardly, as if unsure what to do with her hands. "Thought you might be hungry," she mumbles.

You nod, a thousand questions bubbling up inside you. Where has she been? Why didn't she visit sooner? What happened after the surgery? But looking at her now, seeing the dark circles under her eyes and the way she holds herself - tense, guarded - you decide those questions can wait.

Instead, you pat the bed beside you. "Sit with me?"

Sevika hesitates for a moment, then complies. As she settles beside you, you feel the warmth of her presence, so familiar yet somehow changed.

"I missed you," you say simply.

Sevika's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of emotion crossing her face before she schools it back to neutrality. "I... I'm glad you're okay," she replies, her voice gruff but sincere.

As you and Sevika sit together, you try to maintain a casual conversation, but there's an undercurrent of tension you can't ignore. Sevika's responses are clipped, her gaze never quite meeting yours. It's like she's looking through you, not at you.

"Hey," you say softly, reaching out to touch her arm. "What's going on?"

She turns slowly, her eyes finally meeting yours. But there’s something different in them, something that makes your heart clench. It’s infuriating, this distance she’s putting between you, this wall she’s building brick by brick.

“Sevika,” you say, trying to break through that wall. “Talk to me.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Nothing can happen between us again,” she says, the words falling heavy between you like a death sentence.

You stare at her, disbelief mingling with hurt. “What?”

Her gaze flickers, something like pain flashing in her eyes before she steels herself again. “We can’t do this,” she says, her voice low and strained. “We can’t keep pretending this… whatever this is… can last.”

You feel the ground shift beneath you like the world is falling away, leaving you teetering on the edge of a precipice. “You’re really going to say that after everything?” Your voice cracks, the hurt seeping through despite your best efforts to keep it at bay. “How do you kiss someone, make them believe there’s something real, and then just—throw it away?”

Sevika’s jaw clenches, and she looks away, as if unable to bear the sight of your pain. “You can be mad at me, hate me if you want,” she says. “But it has to be this way.”

“I’m not mad,” you reply, your heart breaking with every word. “I’m hurt, Sevika. I’m hurt because I care about you, and you’re pushing me away like none of it matters.”

“I know,” she whispers, her voice so soft it’s almost lost in the hum of the machines. 

“Then why?” you demand, your voice wavering as you struggle to understand. “Why are you doing this?”

She finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the anguish in her eyes is like a punch to the gut. “Because if I let myself love you,” she says, her voice breaking on the word, “I know we’d never have enough time. ”

Her words hit you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the despair that’s been brewing in your chest. “But isn't some time better than none at all? I'd rather have a handful of precious moments with you than spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if.'” The tears you’ve been holding back now streaming down your face. 

“Even if it hurts, even if it's brief – at least it would be real.”

Sevika shakes her head, her expression a storm of anger and fear. Her words come out in a rush, like she can't hold them back any longer.

"You don't understand. I was okay before you. I was okay with the idea of dying, of existing day after day without purpose until my time ran out. But now?" Her voice hardens. "Now I'm terrified. I'm not okay with losing you. I'm not okay with the thought that you could walk out that door and never come back."

“I didn't need this. I didn't need you to come along and give me a reason to call this godforsaken place home. I didn't need you to make me want to survive instead of just exist.”  She’s practically pleading now.  “Don't you see what you've done to me? Needing you means I have something to lose."

The weight of her confession crushes you, the finality of it sinking in. She’s not just pushing you away—she’s tearing herself apart to do it, ripping out the very thing that might make her feel alive, all because she’s so afraid of the pain it could bring.

“I’d shatter every bone in my body again if it meant keeping you safe,” you say, your voice trembling. “I’d do anything for you, Sevika, and it hurts so bad that you won’t let me.”

She turns her head away. “You’re too stubborn,” she whispers, her voice resigned. “You won’t stop, and neither will I, and it’ll kill us both in the end.”

“You look at me like I’m already dead,” you say, your voice cracking with the weight of your grief. “Like I’m a ghost you’ve been carrying around, waiting for the right moment to bury me.”

She flinches, the words cutting deep. “Because that’s what it feels like,” she confesses. “I feel like I’ve already lost you, and it’s killing me. I’d rather lose you now when we still have a chance to walk away than lose you out there, where I can’t protect you.”

The following silence is deafening, the air thick with everything neither of you can bring yourselves to say. You reach out, your hand trembling as you gently caress her cheek, trying to offer comfort in the only way you know how. She leans into your touch for a moment, her eyes closing as if she’s trying to savor it, to hold onto it before it’s gone.

“Are you doing this to protect me, or are you protecting yourself?” you ask softly, the question hanging in the air like a lifeline, offering her one last chance to admit the truth.

She opens her eyes, and the pain you see there nearly undoes you. “Both,” she admits. “I’m protecting both of us. I’ll never survive the day I lose you. And I can’t—” Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard, her eyes pleading with you to understand. “I can’t live.”

Your heart shatters as the reality of her words sinks in. She’s already decided, already convinced herself that this is the only way to keep you both safe, even if it means tearing herself apart in the process.

“Can I be alone?” you ask, your voice small and broken, the words barely escaping your lips.

Sevika nods, her expression tightening as she takes a step back. “Yeah,” she says. “I’ll go.”

She turns to leave, but before she can take another step, you reach out. “Sevika, wait,” you say, your voice filled with desperation. “Can you hand me my bag?”

She hesitates, her gaze flickering to the bag and then back to you. After a moment, she nods and hands it to you, her fingers brushing yours for the briefest of moments, sending a jolt of longing through you. You rummage through the bag, your heart pounding as you pull out the familiar fabric of her shawl.

You hold it out to her. “This belongs to you.”

Sevika stares at the shawl, her eyes widening as she realizes what it means. For a moment, she just stands there, looking at it like it’s a lifeline she’s too afraid to grasp. Then, she takes it from you.

She looks at you, and in her eyes, you see all the things she wants to say, all the things she’s too scared to admit. And then, without another word, she turns and walks out of the room, the door closing quietly behind her, leaving you alone with nothing but the ghost of her touch and the scent of her shawl lingering in the air.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

You didn’t accept any visitors for days, under the guise that you were too tired and needed the rest to recover. But as tempting as curling in bed and crying over a woman that you never even had a proper relationship with was, you knew you couldn’t hide away forever.

Blinking, you see a group of people piling into your room.

Vander's deep voice rumbles, "Easy now, let's not overwhelm her."

Caitlyn is standing over you. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Before you can answer, Powder chimes in, "Bet you feel like you've been hit by a truck. Am I right?"

"Something like that," you croak.

Your attention is drawn to the doorway where Grayson stands, little Ren in her arms. The child is clutching Grayson's yellow armband tightly.

Grayson sets Ren down gently. "Go on, little one," she says softly.

Ren doesn't need to be told twice. She rushes to your bedside, her small hands gripping the edge of the mattress. "Miss, are you okay?" she asks, her voice shakes slightly. "Will you be like Sevika?"

The innocence in her question tugs at your heart. You reach out, ignoring the twinge of pain from the movement and the mention of Sevika, to pat her hand. "No, darling," you reply softly. "Sevika is unique. I'll be just fine."

Grayson moves closer, her stern expression softening slightly. "That was brave," she says. "But also very idiotic of you."

You frown at the comment, the words too similar to Sevika’s at the prison.  

Vander's voice pulls you from your thoughts. "You gave us quite a scare," he says. "But you're tough. You'll pull through."

Caitlyn nods in agreement. "We've managed to replenish some of our medical supplies thanks to the hospital mission." she informs you. 

Vi adds with a smirk, "And don't even think about trying to get up and be a hero again anytime soon."

“Yeah… I wouldn’t dream of it,” you respond hoarsely.  

Over the next week, your family comes and goes, their visits being the highlight of your monotonous days.  Grayson usually stopped by with Ren, the two were closer than you expected but Marcus had flitted in and out of Ren’s life so often that Grayson stepped up as a parental figure.  You offered to take care of the kid while you were still bed-bound, and Grayson only reluctantly agreed when you assured her it wouldn’t obstruct your healing process.

You find yourself sitting up in bed, Ren cross-legged beside you. Math worksheets are spread out between you.

"If an apple cost three dollars and you needed to buy five apples, how much would that cost?"

Ren's brow furrows in concentration. "Um... fifteen dollars?"

You beam at her. "That's right! You're getting good at this."

A knock at the door interrupts your math lesson and Vi pokes her head in, her red hair slightly disheveled.

"Hey, time to get moving," she says with a grin.

You turn to Ren, giving her a warm smile. "Let's do this again tomorrow, sweetie?"

Ren nods enthusiastically, gathering her papers. "Alright! Bye-bye, miss! I hope you feel better!"

As Ren scampers out, Vi approaches, offering her arm for support. You wince as you stand, your body still protesting the movement.

“Easy,” she murmurs, her tone softening as she watches your struggle. “Take it slow.”

You grit your teeth, focusing on her voice, on the feel of her arm supporting you. Slowly, you manage a few steps, each one a little less painful than the last. 

“How’s it feel?” Vi asks, keeping pace with you, her gaze never leaving your face.

“Like hell,” you admit with a shaky laugh, though there’s a small sense of victory in the simple act of standing on your own two feet again. “But better than yesterday.”

Vi nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Progress,” she says. “You’re getting stronger.”

As you slowly make your way down the hallway, Vi starts chatting about her day. "You wouldn't believe the shit from yesterday. We were chasing some survivors that tried to steal our shit through an alley, and then Sevika shows up out of nowhere and--" 

The moment the words are out, Vi winces, realizing her mistake too late.  You feel a sharp pang in your chest at the mention of Sevika's name. 

"Uh, anyway, we got the guy in the end.” she says.

“She… was?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Vi looks away, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Yeah,” she says softly. “Didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“It’s good,” you say, though the words feel like a lie even as they leave your lips. “It’s good that she caught them.”

Vi nods. “I’m sorry.” 

You shake your head, forcing a small smile. “It’s okay. It’s just… I miss her.  It’s stupid, we weren’t anything.”

“I know,” she says. “But it’s not stupid.”

There’s a long silence, the kind that’s filled with all the words neither of you know how to say. “If you didn’t have Caitlyn, would you be okay with all of this? Would you be able to live with everything we do?”

She’s quiet for a moment as she considers your words. “Do I have a choice?” she finally says, her voice tinged with a sadness you’ve rarely heard from her. “I have Powder. I have you, Vander… my family. I’d feel incomplete, sure, but I don’t have a choice. I have to keep going.”

“We’ll keep going, together.” She adds.

“Thanks, Vi.” Despite your gratefulness, her words feel like they’re coming from a distance, muffled by the grief you’re still trying to process. 

Your family helps you through it all, they talk to you about everything and nothing, filling the silence with stories. The days pass, and slowly, you begin to reclaim small pieces of yourself. You walk more, the physical therapy sessions become less of a struggle and more of a routine.

And each night, when the room is quiet and you’re alone with your thoughts, you think of Sevika. It’s not easy. Some days, the weight of it all feels unbearable, like you’re drowning in a sea of what-ifs and lost chances. But you keep going, step by step, knowing that it’s all you can do.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting session, you lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling as your thoughts drift. You think about Sevika, about the last time you saw her, the pain in her eyes as she walked away. And you wonder if she feels the same weight, if she’s struggling just as much to move on.

You close your eyes, and for a moment, you imagine her here, standing by your side. And as you drift off to sleep, you could swear you hear her voice, soft and broken, whispering in the dark.

“I failed you.”

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The pantry is filled with the scent of canned goods and the faint rustle of paper bags. You’re focused on stacking cans of beans when your grip falters, and one slips from your fingers.

Before it can hit the ground, a hand darts out and catches it. You look up to see a man with a cocky grin. He’s tall and lean, with slicked-back hair and piercing teal eyes.  You don’t know why, but he looked oddly familiar.

“Well, well,” he drawls. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing down here? Are we that understaffed that we’re making the injured work now?”

You snatch the can back from him. “Not that it’s any of your business,” you reply curtly, setting the can back on the shelf, “but I wanted to do this.”

He chuckles, leaning against the shelf with a casual arrogance. “Looks like supplies are running a bit thin,” he comments slyly, his eyes flicking to the half-empty shelves. “Maybe you should take it easy before you use up what little energy we have left.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your patience wearing thin. “I’m not interested in your opinion.”

Before he can retort, the door to the pantry swings open with a loud creak, and Sevika steps inside. The air changes instantly when her gaze zeroes in on the man. 

“Finn,” she growls. “What are you doing here?”

Finn straightens up and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just making sure our friend here isn’t overworking herself,” he says innocently.

“Get lost,” Sevika snaps. “Now.”

With a lazy shrug, Finn backs off, giving you a final, lingering look before sauntering out of the pantry. The door closes behind him, leaving you alone with Sevika. 

Sevika turns to you. “I was told you’re working here again,” she says, her voice sharp with disapproval. “Are you stupid? You’re barely healed.”

You bristle at her tone. "I needed to do something."

"Yeah, like babysitting Ren," she snaps. “Not this.”

"Why does it matter what I do?" you challenge, your voice rising.

For a moment, Sevika doesn’t answer, but then her eyes widen.

“You’re bleeding.” 

You blink, confused. “What?”

You look down and see a trickle of blood seeping through the bandages on your side. The pain hits you a second later, sharp and burning, but you grit your teeth, refusing to show weakness in front of her.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, trying to downplay it. “I can bandage it myself.”

But Sevika is already moving toward you, her expression darkening with worry. “You’re not going back to your place like this,” she mutters. “Come on. My place is closer.”

Before you can protest, she’s already scooping you up into her arms. The world blurs around you as she carries you through the streets and you’re too shocked to resist.

When you reach her place, she sets you down on the edge of her bed, her touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before she pulls away.

“Just sit,” she instructs as she moves to grab a first aid kit from a nearby drawer.

“I can do it.” 

Sevika shakes her head, her expression set in a way that leaves no room for argument. “I have experience with this,” she says quietly. “Let me.”

You watch in silence as she works. Her hands, usually so strong and rough, are gentle as they press a fresh bandage against your skin. There’s a tenderness in the way she handles you, in the way she refuses to meet your gaze as she focuses on the wound, that makes your chest ache.

Finally, Sevika finishes. She stands, the distance between you growing once more as she busies herself with putting away the first aid kit, her movements stiff and mechanical.

“Thanks.” You want to leave, not to be any more inconvenient than you already were but Sevika replies before you can say anything.

“You should rest,” she says, her voice flat, devoid of the warmth that was there just moments ago. “Don’t push yourself like that again.”

You reluctantly agree to stay and the tension in Sevika's shoulders eases slightly. She mumbles something about bringing dinner later and leaves you to rest.

Left alone, you take in your surroundings. The room is sparse, almost impersonal. Unlike the chaos in the other rooms, this space feels hollow. There are no personal belongings, no knick-knacks, nothing to suggest that she even uses this bed. It's as if the room itself is holding its breath, existing in a state of perpetual temporariness.

Exhaustion soon overtakes you, and you drift off to sleep. But you soon wake again at the sound of muffled voices.  Through the haze of half-consciousness, you hear one of Sevika's people inviting her to a party, but she declines. 

"Nah, I'm staying in today," you hear her say.

The voices fade, and you slowly wake up, disoriented. You stumble to the doorway of the living room, blinking sleep from your eyes. Sevika is there, dressed in casual clothes – a grey tank top and worn jeans with her hair down, falling in messy waves around her face.  She's cleaning up, a pile of bottles in her arms when she notices you.

"You're awake," she says, startled. "Shit, did I wake you up?"

You shake your head, your voice still rough with sleep. "No, you're good... Do you need help with that?"

"No. Fuck, sit down. What are you doing walking around?"

Still groggy, you comply without argument, sinking into the couch. Sevika dumps the bottles in a bag and turns back to you.

"I'm making dinner," she says, washing her hands at the sink. "You're okay with instant noodles and spam?"

The domesticity of the moment catches you off guard. "Sounds delicious," you manage to say.

Sevika nods and turns to the small kitchenette. You watch her move around the space. It's surreal, seeing her like this – relaxed, casual, making dinner for you both. For a moment, you can almost pretend things are different between you.

Sevika settles on the far arm of the couch next to you, the small distance between you both feeling more like a chasm. 

"Chopsticks or fork?" she asks, holding out both options.

"Chopsticks," you reply, and a ghost of a smile flickers across her face.

"Good choice," she murmurs, handing them to you.

You eat in comfortable silence, stealing glances at her when you think she's not looking. When you finish, Sevika collects the empty bowls.

"Want dessert?"

"Sure," you nod, watching as she retrieves an apple from the kitchen.

She settles back on the arm of the couch, peeling the apple with a small knife. "How's the physical therapy going?" Sevika asks, breaking the silence.

You shrug. "It's... going. Slow progress, but progress nonetheless."

She nods, placing slices onto a plate. "That's good. Don't push yourself too hard."

"Says the woman who never knows when to quit," you tease gently.

A wry smile tugs at her lips. "Do as I say, not as I do."

As you reach for the last slice, Sevika’s hand brushes your cheek. You freeze, the touch unexpected, and you look up at her, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest.

“There’s an eyelash,” she says softly, her voice gentle as she carefully removes it from your face. She holds it up for you to see, the tiny, delicate lash resting on her fingertip. “Make a wish.”

You stare at the eyelash, your mind racing with all the things you could wish for, should wish for. But the words stick in your throat, and you find yourself frozen, unable to think of anything that could possibly fix what’s been broken.

“Did you wish?”

You shake your head slightly, the corners of your mouth turning up in a sad smile. “I... I didn't get the chance.”

She raises an eyebrow, her gaze piercing as she studies you. “And there’s something you wish for?”

“Yes,” You hesitate, the words coming slowly, painfully, like pulling them from some deep, hidden place inside you. “I was wishing… that we were two other people. Two people who didn’t have to say goodbye.”

The silence that follows is thick, charged with the tension of emotions neither of you can afford to express. Sevika’s expression tightens, her jaw clenching as she absorbs your words.

“You know, if you say it out loud, it doesn’t come true,” she says, her voice rough, like she’s fighting against the vulnerability of the moment.

“Do you believe that?” 

She looks down at the eyelash, still resting on her finger, before blowing it away into the air. Her gaze follows it for a moment before she looks back at you. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unmovable, like a finality neither of you can escape. 

“We should sleep,” Sevika says finally. “It’s late.”

You nod, knowing she’s right. There’s nothing more to be said, nothing that can change the way things are. 

“Thank you,” you say softly.

Sevika looks at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nods, just once, and steps back, letting you go. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you echo, your heart heavy as you turn and walk away.

As you reach the end of the hallway, you glance back, just once. Sevika is still standing in the doorway, watching you, her figure framed by the dim light. There’s something in her posture, something in the way she’s holding herself that makes you think she might be wishing too—wishing for something that neither of you can have.

But then she steps back, closing the door behind her, and you’re left standing in the cold, empty hallway, the echoes of what could have been ringing in your ears.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the makeshift shooting range. You and Grayson stand side by side, both of you facing a row of targets at the far end of the field. You’ve been practicing your aim for a while now, but your focus has been off, your shots missing the mark more often than not.

“You haven’t said anything about my shit shot,” you mutter, glancing sideways at Grayson, expecting some form of criticism.

She shrugs, her eyes on the distant targets. "You're injured. Why would I?"

You snort. "Liar. Weeks ago, you'd have torn me apart. What's different now?"

Grayson doesn't answer, instead gesturing to a nearby bench overlooking the community below. You follow her, settling onto the worn wood with a sigh.The elevated view makes the world seem vast and small all at once.

Grayson passes you a canteen, and you take a long drink before speaking again. "You snitched to Sevika about me working."

Grayson raises an eyebrow. "Snitching? Are we ten?"

"She didn't need to know," you mutter, avoiding her gaze.

"You were going hurt yourself," Grayson says softly. "And you needed to see her. For closure, at least."

You fall silent, not wanting to delve into the complicated mess of emotions surrounding Sevika. Instead, you change the subject. "How's Ren?"

“Ren’s sleeping in today. She’s been up late these past few nights, working on that puzzle I gave her.”  Grayson’s face immediately brightens at the mention of Ren.

“She’s got that stubborn streak. Wonder where she gets it.” 

“Must be the company she keeps,” Grayson replies, her voice laced with affection. “Marcus is at the walls today, keeping an eye on things. It’s been quiet, for the most part.”

You nod, your gaze drifting back to the field. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” you muse. “Every day is the same. We do the same things, see the same faces… What makes it worth living?”

Grayson leans back on the bench, her eyes scanning the horizon as she considers her answer. “You make your own reasons,” she says finally, her tone thoughtful. “For me, it’s taking care of Ren. Making sure she has something to hold onto, something good in this world.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Grayson is choosing her words carefully. “I never thought of myself as the maternal type,” she continues, sounding almost wistful. “But with Ren… It’s different. She’s taught me more about love than I ever knew.  In whatever time I got left here, I want to continue it with her, to see her grow up and prove there’s still something more for us here.”

You feel a pang in your chest, suddenly remembering Sevika and her belief that there would never be enough time for the two of you. But where Grayson found strength in loving deeply despite that, Sevika chose to close herself off, to protect herself from the inevitable pain.

Grayson looks at you, her eyes filled with a quiet understanding. “Sometimes, the hardest thing is to keep loving, even when you know it won’t last. But that’s what makes it worth it. Knowing that you made the most of the time you had, that you loved fully, even if it hurts in the end.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the truth of them resonating with a painful clarity. 

“It’s hard,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “When you know it’s not going to last.”

Grayson nods, her expression gentle. “It is. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it. You have to find your own reason to keep going, to keep loving, even when it seems like everything is falling apart.”

The conversation settles into a quiet lull, the words lingering between you as the sun dips lower in the sky. You take another sip from the flask, the burn of the alcohol doing little to numb the ache in your chest.

“You’re always looking out for us, making sure we’re okay.” you say after a moment, your voice tinged with admiration. 

“I’m satisfied  – knowing that I’ve done what I can to make this place a little better, to take care of the people who matter.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, the words carrying more weight than you intended. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she replies gently. “We’re all in this together. And besides,” she adds with a small, teasing smile, “someone has to keep you in line.”

You chuckle, the sound lightening the heavy atmosphere just a bit.

But the peaceful moment on the hill was brief, the tranquility shattered by the sound of rapid footsteps and panicked crying. You and Grayson turn to see Ren running towards you, her face streaked with tears and her small body shaking with sobs.

Grayson immediately drops to her knees, catching Ren in her arms. "What happened, sweetheart?" she asks, her voice calm but laced with urgency.

Ren tries to speak through her tears, her words coming out in broken gasps. "Daddy said... we were going on a trip... but the monsters... they blocked us and he couldn’t close the gate... now they're coming to get us!"

As if on cue, screams erupt from the direction of the community. You and Grayson exchange a quick glance, both reaching for your weapons without hesitation.

Ren clings to Grayson's yellow armband, her eyes wide with terror. "I want to go with you!" she cries.

Grayson cups Ren's face gently, her voice soft but firm. "Darling, listen to me. I will come back, I promise. But right now, you need to get to safety. Can you be brave for me?"

Ren nods, her lower lip trembling. You know without words what needs to be done - get everyone to safety.

You both sprint down the hill, Grayson carrying Ren. As you near the community, the chaos becomes more apparent. Gunshots ring out, mixing with screams of panic and pain. People are running in all directions, fear etched on their faces.

Vi appears beside you, her red hair wild and her eyes blazing. "We're seriously underarmed right now!" she shouts over the noise. "Sevika's crew is out!"

"We have to make do," you yell back, scanning the area. You spot Caitlyn and a few others on the walls, their snipers picking off threats in the distance.

You, Vi, and the handful of armed residents form a protective line, herding panicked civilians towards their homes. "Get inside! Lock your doors!" you shout, your voice hoarse from the effort.

Children cry for their parents, the elderly struggle to move quickly enough. You see a young mother stumble, her baby wailing in her arms. You rush to her side, helping her to her feet and guiding her to safety.

Everywhere you look, there's movement – people running, fighting, falling. 

The air is thick with the stench of death and the deafening cacophony of gunfire. You're shoulder to shoulder with VI, both of you firing relentlessly at the endless wave of walkers. Sweat stings your eyes as you shout, "Vi! On your left!"

She pivots, taking down three walkers in quick succession. But for every one you drop, two more seem to take its place. The situation is rapidly spiraling out of control, and a sinking feeling in your gut tells you you're fighting a losing battle.

But suddenly, powerful headlights cut through the darkness as a convoy of trucks roars onto the scene. Your heart leaps – you'd recognize that cavalry anywhere.

As if materializing from thin air, more trucks appear, effortlessly mowing down walkers and clearing streets. One screeches to a halt in front of you, and then there she is.

A familiar figure vaults from the truck bed – Sevika, her red shawl billowing behind her. She swiftly unslings a shotgun from her back and starts blasting walkers left and right. Her face is composed, every feature carefully controlled, but when her eyes find yours, a fleeting shadow passes over them—a trace of fear and concern.

"You okay?" she shouts over the din, closing the distance between you.

You nod, breathless. "A lot are injured. I don't know, there's too many – I think they're coming from the west gate. Ren said something about Marcus not being able to close it."

Sevika's jaw tightens. She yanks out a radio, barking orders to dispatch teams to the west gate. In seconds, she's handing out weapons, her voice ringing with authority. "Split up! I want a team grabbing as many injured as possible. Anyone bitten, take them out."

As you move to join the fray, Sevika's hand clamps on your arm. "No," she growls. "What the hell are you doing? Get to safety with the others. You're still injured."

"Fine," you concede. "But I'm finding Grayson first."

Sevika gives a curt nod before sprinting back into action. You catch a glimpse of Vi, her red hair unmistakable as she leaps into a truck bed. 

You weave through the chaos, dodging walkers and searching for Grayson. Gunfire echoes off buildings, punctuated by the revving of engines and the sounds of walkers being dispatched. 

A scream to your left – you spin, firing instinctively. A walker drops, inches from a couple. You quickly wave to them to follow and you sprint to the safe house together. Your leg protests, but adrenaline keeps you moving.

Your heart pounds as you finally spot Grayson, but she's going the opposite direction. 

"Grayson!" you shout. "Sevika and her team are here. We need to get everyone to safety!"

She doesn't slow down. "There's someone stuck in a car!"

That's when you see it - a vehicle surrounded by a writhing mass of walkers, their decaying hands clawing at the windows. Inside, you catch a glimpse of a terrified face.

Without hesitation, you sprint after Grayson. The two of you work in tandem, picking off walkers. When you reach the car, Grayson covers you as you wrench the door open. A young boy, no older than seven, practically leaps into her arms.

"We've got to move!" Grayson shouts.

You guys run, the child clinging to her as you lead the way.  You’re clearing the path, and you’re halfway to the safehouse when you hear the dreaded click of an empty chamber.

"I'm out!" you yell.

Grayson turns, her eyes flashing with a decision you can see forming before she even speaks. "Take the kid. Go!"

"Wait, we can make it together!"

She shakes her head, placing the boy into your arms. "Sevika's crew is here, remember? I'll be okay. Get everyone to safety!"

Before you can protest, she's shoving you toward safety, using her body as a shield for the child. You run, every step feeling like a betrayal, but knowing you have to trust her.

You make it to a house, handing off the child to waiting arms. Your lungs burn as you gasp for air, eyes scanning the chaos for any sign of Grayson.

Suddenly, Sevika's there, her face smeared with grime and blood but her eyes alight with fierce triumph. "We closed the gate. Got them all."

Relief floods you for a moment, but then reality crashes back. "Wait, where's Grayson?"

Confusion flickers across Sevika's face, but before she can respond, a heart-wrenching wail cuts through the air. You both rush outside, joining a growing crowd.

The scene that greets you turns your blood to ice. Caitlyn is on the ground, her body wracked with sobs. Vi kneels beside her, arms wrapped around her shaking form. "I couldn't save her," Caitlyn chokes out between gasps. "I couldn't shoot them fast enough."

Her sniper lies discarded in the dirt, and that's when you see her. Grayson.

The world seems to tilt on its axis. You stumble forward, unable to process what you're seeing. Grayson, who was just beside you moments ago. Grayson, who sacrificed herself to save a child. Grayson, whose quiet strength held your community together.

She now lies on the ground, her body wracked with violent coughs, blood staining her lips. Her breaths had grown shallow, each one more of a struggle than the last, and when she reached for Sevika’s hand, you knew what she was asking for. Sevika’s fingers trembled as she grasped Grayson’s hand, and when Grayson whispered, “Do it,” you saw a flash of something break inside Sevika.

She obeyed.

The gunshot echoed in your ears, louder than the chaos around you, but it was the sight of Sevika gently closing Grayson’s eyes that broke you. Sevika had always been unbreakable, she seemed immune to the horrors of this world. But as she knelt beside Grayson, you saw the cracks forming.  She closed Grayson’s eyes, her hand trembling just for a second before she stood up, towering over the body like a stone sentinel. 

You could barely breathe, the grief suffocating you, making it impossible to think about anything other than how many bodies that needs burying tomorrow. How many families would be broken by the news? How many children would cry for family and friends who would never come home? 

“Grayson?” Ren’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with innocence and confusion. The kid was supposed to be inside the safe house but instead, she stood there, eyes wide and uncomprehending, staring at the lifeless form on the ground. “Why is Grayson sleeping? Tell her to wake up… We won, didn’t we?”

You wanted to tell her something—anything—but the words choked in your throat. Ren dropped to her knees beside Grayson, her tiny hands shaking as they touched the cold, lifeless body.

Sevika finally moved, her expression unreadable, her walls up higher than ever. Without a word, she reached into her pocket and pulled out Grayson’s yellow band. She knelt down, her massive frame suddenly so small beside Ren, and gently placed the band in the child’s trembling hands.

Ren looked up at Sevika, eyes full of questions. But before anything could be said, Silco emerged from the shadows, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. He was flanked by his men, their faces grim and cold, and at the center of it all was Marcus.

He was barely recognizable—his face a mangled mess of bruises and blood. He was dragged forward, forced to his knees in the dirt where Grayson had fallen. The sight of him brought Sevika to her feet, her fists clenched tight. You could see the battle raging inside her, the desire to end him right then and there, but she held back.

"Look at him," he began, his tone soft, almost conversational, as if he were discussing something trivial. "A man who betrayed the very community that kept him protected him fed and protected. Who left nothing but the ashes of his own cowardice."

He walked slowly around Marcus, like a predator circling its prey. "This is the price of betrayal, the cost of thinking you can stand in the way of what must be done. You all know him," Silco continued, addressing the crowd that had gathered, their eyes fixed on the broken man at his feet. "You know his face, his uniform, his lies. But you must also know this: in a world where there are no second chances, there are no second thoughts."

Silco’s voice grew harder, colder, as he leaned down close to Marcus’s ear. "Your cowardice, your betrayal, a mistake that cost how many lives today? And now, you will pay the price for that."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final, and Marcus’s body shuddered, knowing what was coming. Silco straightened, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Let this be a lesson to all who would think to cross us, to cross me. There is no forgiveness in this world, only retribution."

You don’t know what happened next, because you’re taking Ren into your arms and you’re moving – away from the crowd, away from the punishment that you know her father will face.

Ren clings to you, burying her face in your chest, and you hold her close, wishing you could shield her from all of this. "What’s happening to Daddy?" she asks, her voice muffled by your shirt. "And Grayson?"

You didn’t have an answer. The only thing you could do was hold her tighter, trying to block out the screams, the fire, the blood.

Time passes, the night dragging on in a blur of grief. Inside the house, the silence was deafening. You had scrubbed the blood from Ren’s skin, but it still lingered in the air, the scent of death refusing to leave. Grayson’s face kept flashing before your eyes, her last breath, her last words, the way her body crumpled in Sevika’s arms.

And now, as you stared out the window, you saw them—Silco’s men, forming a straight, omnious line as they marched out into the night. At the center of it all was a giant wooden cross, and tied to it was Marcus. His head hung low, his body limp, but he was still alive.

Your breath caught in your throat when Sevika looked up at the window. For a moment, your eyes locked, and you saw nothing in her gaze but a cold, empty challenge. The Sevika you knew wasn’t there, but replaced by someone who had buried whatever was left of her soul beneath layers of survival and duty. She turns away, breaking the gaze as she climbed into the backseat of a vehicle.  You watch as the trucks disappeared into the night until the only thing you could see was the small form of the cross.

The night presses in around you, heavy with loss, and you wonder if anything would ever feel whole again.

taglist:

@mirconreadzztuff22 @lils-1979 @veoomvroom @schmoni

@poxismind @kittykatz1227 @archangeldyke-all @abbyssgf @ivorydevil

@lez-zuha @iamastar @jellyfishrnice @anemoxlys @l0vel3tterl0ver

@lavendersgirl @h0pe-scotch @lia-winther @kittykatz1227 @dontknowwhenispawned

@sevikitty @sarahduke @raphaellearp @cewl-casper @crying-lighting443

@sodavrr @sweet-lover-girl @love-sevikalove @pinkyykisses @glass-apothecary

@mulan-but-gay @lesbnrock @hyuckiesoftie

[tim-shii]

a blessing in disguise.

a/n: dad!sae and husband!sae in one post? more likely than you think. timmy being down bad for sae for the nth time, what's new? i didnt know where this story was heading while i was writing it halfway but the idea is dad!sae and husband!sae. also this is cute i love this work i will cry over this for months.

“sometimes, i’m pretty sure you’re only with me out of pity. how dare you? my love for you is sincere–”

“what are you babbling about now?” sae let out an exasperated sigh. you two are lounging in the living room. him, watching a soccer game of the rivaling team they’re going up against next week, and you, laying down on the couch with your feet on his lap, just blankly staring at the ceiling.

“…like i would even lay down in front of a moving train for you. or! i would, without a doubt, drink a poison that’s specifically for you. if you ever get in a coma, i would stab myself, juliet style, absolutely no hesitation. you don’t understand the lengths i would go through for you–”

“oh my god,” sae drags his palm down his face quite dramatically. “is this because i forgot to say ‘i love you’ this morning?”

“see? this is exactly my point. do you even like me?” you nudge his side with a sock clad foot.

he grabs a hold of your ankle and settled in back on his lap. “we’ve been married for five years. our son is literally five meters away playing with his sister.” sae replied with a pointed glare, visibly done with your antics. someone give him a break, he’s experiencing this exact predicament for the past seven years. he’s annoyed, yes, but it’s one of the reason he’s highly and deeply infatuated– in love with you.

you were about to retaliate but rushed footsteps and a sudden weight on your chest prevented you. “mommy!” speak of the little devil and he shall appear. kio, your 4-year-old son. behind him is kiho, your 1-year-old daughter, crawling as hard as she can trying to reach her older brother. immediately, you sat up on the sofa, pulling kio to your lap. “what– baby, are you crying? what’s going on?” you coo as you wipe the tears off his chubby cheeks.

“kiho bit me! we were just playing and then she suddenly–” while you were occupied with kio, sae abandoned his spot from the couch and opted to slide down to the floor instead. his eyes were focused on the adorable infant who is now crawling towards her beloved father. as soon as she’s only a foot away from him, sae scooped her up in his arms and retreated back to your side on the settee, “you bit your brother, kiho?” to which the infant just babbled incoherent with a wide grin.

sae smiles back at her before furrowing his brows. and it seems like you had the same thought as him when you looked at him with a confused frown.

“bit you?” you asked kio.

“yes, she did! it hurts! i think her bite left a mark!” he showed you his left forearm and there you see. the mark of a small baby tooth.

“she’s teething!” you exclaimed happily after kissing your son’s forearm. (“kisses make the pain go away.” you once told him when he tripped and scraped his knee at the park.) sae gently lift up kiho’s lips to peek at her gums, and ta-da! a cute tooth peeking back at him.

“she’s growing up too fast.” sae hummed, kissing kiho’s head, making her giggle.

“mommy, why did she bite me?” kio patted your cheek to get your attention back on him. “did i do something wrong? i thought she was having fun when we were playing together.” your heart felt stabbed, squeezed and stepped on ten times as kio looks at you with tears in his eyes.

“she was just showing affection, ki. she must’ve felt overjoyed with you but she didn’t know how to express it. she is a baby after all.”

“did i bite when i was a baby, too?”

“oh, absolutely. you bit your dad mostly.” you laughed at the memory of sae wincing in pain as his son decided to sink his growing teeth onto his father’s shoulder as he carried him.

“now. kiho, baby. say sorry to your brother.” sae held her in the middle of you two like a cat, his hands supporting his torso under her arms. however, instead of a garbled apology, kiho blew a raspberry to kio.

“hey, that wasn’t nice,” the little boy frowned.

“mom, don’t laugh– dad, stop laughing, too!” kiho followed the two of you and let out a gleeful squeal. all the while kio rubs the saliva off his face with your shirt.

“kio!” sae laughs even harder. kiho, too.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

[shootingstarwritings]

Body Surfing Lesson

“’Body surfing,’ is an important skill to learn as fledgling body possessors,” Gerald spoke to the hidden camera, putting on his teacher persona as best he could considering the ciscumstances. “Normally, it takes a lot of mana for us to take over other people, but the body surfing technique involves taking over multiple people over the course of a single day, using their own mana as a sort of ‘surfboard,’ to ride the waves of mana that flow inside of us all.” He inwardly cringed as he spoke, his current body very clearly unfitting for his lesson.

Gerald had no idea who had come up with such awful terminology, but it was far too late to change that. The small yet tight-knit community the possessors in the area had formed needed to have a sense of unity. Too much innocent blood had been shed for shame to hold Gerald back. ‘Far too many of you have been lost for me to get cold feet now,’ he thought to himself. Taking a deep breath, he continued his explanation for the future viewers.

“I’ve already spent quite a lot of my own mana to possess this young man,” Gerald forced his host to say. What was his name again…? He focused, face visibly tightening before his eyes widened in realization. “Jerry! Huh, it’s so close to my name.” He winced and made a mental note to himself to delete that part of the video. “It was difficult, y’know,” he said, pacing around in Jerry’s underwear with very little shame. He couldn’t help but strut, already enjoying the tight muscle in this youthful form. “I had to float into his cute little butt to take him over.”

Gerald grinned and slapped Jerry’s butt, enjoying the slight jiggling. He thought back earlier today as he launched into a story of how he had taken Jerry over for his class.

Gerald’s misty form had crawled through the apartment building’s pipes, searching for a nice and hot host that would catch people’s eyes while he tried to educate them. Then, he found Jerry exiting the shower and clad in just a pair of new-age briefs. Gerald stared at it in confusion, unsure if this is really what the young ones were really wearing. ‘Am I getting old?’ Gerald had briefly mused before launching himself towards Jerry’s ass.

“AH! Woah, ahhh…!” Jerry collapsed on his stomach, ass facing the ceiling as Gerald’s essence took him over. “Ah, pl-please… help…!” gasped Jerry, his hips thrusting on their own as he lost consciousness.

“Mmm, nice…” Gerald muttered as he sat up. He rubbed his stomach and then his bare, youthful legs. “It’s been a while since I was someone so young. And so hairless,” he chuckled.

“And that’s what happened,” he finished for his class. “It was lucky that this young man enjoys filming so much. Now I’ve got a nice and high-quality camera for this lesson rather than some janky phone.” It truly had been serendipity for him. Gerald giggled as he sat cross-legged in front of the camera, enjoying just how his borrowed form felt so exposed and yet so confident in his near-nudity. “So, I’ve got a dilemma. I want to move on and yet I’m pretty much exhausted my mana supplies—the essence of the soul. Say I even got into the trouble and I have to evacuate for whatever reason. What could I do in this situation?”

Gerald waited a quick second before continuing, “If you don’t know, that’s fine. This technique’s quite advanced. Not even some of our more veteran community members have even mastered it. Yours truly, however,” Gerald paused to place a hand on his chest, making sure to lightly tweak a nipple, “is well-versed enough in the arts to enlighten you.”

It wasn’t a secret nor difficult to figure out the theoretical part, but it was a challenge to divert the flow of energy instead of letting it be lost to entropy. It was similar to having a rush of anger and trying to convert the energy of that anger to something productive. In other words, it was turning anger to passion, turning sadness to compassion, and turning joy to kindness. The emotion behind it was just as important, if not more so, than the actual intention. 

‘Easier said than done,’ Gerald thought. ‘Honestly, I’d have to do a one-on-one with all of these new possessors for them to even get proficient at it. However, just imparting the knowledge would be enough… for now, at least.’

“Now, I have invited my host’s friend to come over soon. Before he arrives, I’m going to start masturbating my host’s body and preparing my mana.” One of the ways that mana flowed was through bodily fluids, with semen being one of the most potent ones. The emotions surrounding a climax allows a large flow of magic to surge through and even be present in the semen that one shoots at that moment of peak pleasure. “I won’t use my own mana,” summarized Gerald, “but instead use this young man’s mana from his own climax to possess his friend, Mike.”

Gerald was about to continue, but bit his lower lip as he heard the faintest knock from the front door. Then, Mike’s voice called out to be let in.

Grinning, Gerald placed a finger to his lips and winked at the camera. “Let the show begin.” It wasn’t difficult to begin jacking off in this youth’s body. Even stroke felt like a lightning strike and even gasp was just fuel to Gerald’s fiery lust--now reborn in this young vessel… for the time.

“C-C’mon in,” Gerald forced Jerry to say. He had left the apartment’s front door unlocked on purpose. With any luck, Mike would get curious and explore the lustful noises straight to Jerry’s room. “Door’s unlocked.” Everything was falling into place. Gerald had seen a few pictures of Mike. He was a cute ginger with a good body that used to play hockey in high school. Though his sports days were behind him, Mike still regularly went to the gym to keep a nice form. “Mmm…!” The thought of taking over another young hunk, one with fiery curly hair that was so much like his own during his teenage years, almost made Gerald cum on the spot.

“Hurry up…!” Gerald hissed. Just how much more did his thick cock need to finally cum. It was such a tease--to be on the verge of cumming but not getting there quite yet. “You stupid fucking himbo, fucking cum already!” Although he was on the verge of running out of time, Gerald couldn’t help but find the verbal abuse arousing as well. “Cum for me, boy. Lemme feel that stallion cock of yours burst all over your hairless, himbo body…”

“Jerry? That you? What’re you doing…?” Gerald could hear Mike’s approaching footfalls, and that only made the whole situation more erotic. Before losing his body, Mike would see his best friend cum all over himself like a shameless exhibitionist. And then, Gerald would do the same thing to Mike. Forget the class or keeping the peace, Gerald could only think of hopping between men and turning each of them into cum-obsessed cocksuckers.

“Hrrngh! Oh god…!” 

Yes… it was approaching. All Gerald needed to really turn this body on as he cranked the cock was a bit of foreplay. His core was beginning to tense, and he could feel himself rush past the point of no return.

Right at the precise moment, the door opened. “Jerry, what the fuck?!” Mike cried out as he saw his best friend beating his meat without a lick of shame.

Grining, Gerald forced Jerry to shout, “I’m fucking cumming…!” as torrents of cum shot high into the air in Mike’s direction.

‘Now, give me your body, boy.’

Riding that climatic wave, Gerald used the large pool mana that Jerry’s young body was shooting to propel his soul forward. Even though all of his own energy was spent, he felt rejuvenated, as though he was 20 years younger, as Jerry came. However, just like a normal wave crashing into the sea, it would not last forever. The energy could not be stored, only spent in that very moment; but that small burst in power was all Gerald needed as he dove into Mike’s body.

“Oomph!” Mike huffed as the force of Gerald diving into his body was enough to knock him off balance. He fell backwards and hit the ground, body convulsing as an invisible, unknowable force began to take him over. “Wh-What the fuck…?!” was all he could say as a cold and numb sensation spread from the tips of his fingers and toes into his core. “H-Help… ohh… please don’t…” Mike reached a trembling arm towards the doorknob, his fingers twitching as they tried to find anything to grab onto.

By the time Mike’s fingers gripped the brass knob, Gerald was already in control. “Mmm… delicious.” Something that Gerald noticed from certain bodies was that they somehow had some kind of spiritual ‘flavor.’ Mike reminded him of strawberries in a shortcake somehow. He licked his lips and chuckled at the light bristle of Mike’s bushy and manly beard. “Trying to be a real man, boy?”

Gerald forced Mike to sit up and then lie on his stomach. “Just a young man trying to be a big boy,” he chuckled as he positioned Mike’s ass high in the air, wiggling his hips the whole time. “But then a real man like Gerald took over my body. All with my best friend’s spunk as a springboard. God, what kinda friend--what kinda man--am I for letting that happen?”

A horrible idea suddenly crossed Gerald’s mind. Crawling back into Jerry’s room, Gerald opened Mike’s mouth and began to suck the remaining cum off of Jerry’s still twitching cock. “God, Mike, you’re so virile. I’m so glad you’re this cumslut’s friend,” said Gerald. Then he realized that he was still supposed to be explaining a lesson. 

Grabbing the camera, Gerald focused it on Mike’s face and began to speak. “Well, did you see that? I was all out of mana, but masturbating with a man’s other body, I was able to use his energy to possess this hunk of meat.” To illustrate his point, Gerald stripped most of Mike’s clothes until he was down to his boxer briefs. “See? And--” he stopped as he heard the front door open.

“Jerry? You home? What’d I tell you about leaving the front door unlocked?”

Jerry’s father. A tall and broad-shouldered man that, from what Gerald could tell from Jerry’s memory, wasn’t particularly fond of Mike due to his… ‘lifestyle.’ Was it due to something repressed? Mike certainly seemed to think so, but Gerald couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. Taking a look around and seeing the scene before him, Gerald began to internally panic--twisting Mike’s generally nonchalant expression into a stressed grimace.

‘Shit. His son’s unconscious, covered in cum,  and his best friend’s stripped down to his underwear.  If I saw this scene I’d think Mike was trying to date-rape my son! Don’t think I’ll be able to simply laugh off this little excursion. But… the only way to get out of this would be…’

Gerald had never attempted a double possession, with or without an explosive orgasm catapult. Was it a good thing that the camera was still recording? He wasn’t sure anymore. To be frank, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Loud, boisterous footfalls continued to ring in his ears.

Even in times of danger, Gerald knew he could rely on his libido to get him out. Throwing Mike’s underwear away, no longer caring about maintaining any sense of professionalism, Gerald got to work. Using what was left of Jerry’s cum as makeshift lube, he began to explore Mike’s tasty body with horned-up haste.

“The hell’s that, Jerry? Got a girl over?” Jerry’s father called out again. Gerald couldn’t help but giggle in-betweens his moans. If only he knew.

Mike’s gruff voice contrasted so wonderfully with his high-pitched and needy groans. His back arched and his toes curled as Gerald continued to beat his dick. The other hand freely explored the nice pelt of orange hair that coated Mike’s body.

‘What I wouldn’t give to just have a day with this guy,’ thought Gerald. A few tweeks of the nipples and he could already feel an orgasm building up. Just a few more minute and vigorous strokes and he’d be home free. “C’mon, cum for me…! Just a bit more.”

Jerry’s door flew open for the second time that day, and this time Jerry’s father roared in horror at the scene before him. “MIKE! What the fuck are you doing?! Jerry?!”

‘An audience,’ Gerald thought, smirking at the older man. ‘And not a bad looker either.’

“Hey, daddy-o,” Gerald forced Mike to say. He thrust into his grip, gyrating his hips as though to show off what his body could do to Jerry’s father. “Like the show? Have a seat, I can do so much for you if you want. I don’t mind some audience participation.” To emphasize his own point, Gerald raised a hand with a bit of pre-cum and slowly licked it off--savoring the sweet flavor.

Jerry’s father, mouth slightly agape and expression somewhere between horror and arousal, just stared at Gerald abusing Mike’s body. “Y-You’re sick,” he finally said, eyes glued to Mike’s swinging cock as it twitched. “What did you do to Jerry…?”

“Same thing I’m gonna do to you, daddy!” Gerald cried out in glee as Mike’s abused cock shot the first few rounds of semen. He bit his bottom lip, moans just barely muffled, as Mike’s hips naturally thrust with each shot. As the orgasm reached its end, Mike’s body began to tremble and grow limp as Gerald shot himself out. He rushed through the air and quickly dove right into Jerry’s father through his large chest.

“Hurugh! Ohh, what the fuck…?!” Unlike Mike, Jerry’s father remained standing even after Gerald dive bombed into his chest. However, despite his stronger will, he was unable to stop the tidal wave that crashed over his body. His broad arms gripped the door frame for support as his knees bent from the pressure. 

The invasive presence washed over him, filling him up slowly. It wasn’t unlike the first time his ex-wife had pegged him. The fear that came from being filled for the first time was matched only by the pleasure that followed. Just the thought of that night made his cargo shorts tighten. He knew that he should’ve been afraid and even outraged, but his body betrayed him in favor of the invasive presence. “M-More, please fuck me more…!” he whispered as his grip on the door frame tightened. Sweat dripped from his body as his soul let the tides carry him to a blissful and erotic rest.

“And that class,” Gerald forced his host to say, “is how you use your host to your advantage. Now, this is a more advanced technique, so don’t worry if you find it tricky at first.” Bill, Jerry’s father, was far more comfortable to Gerald than Jerry or Mike. The beefy look and authoritative voice also helped Gerald really get into the persona of a professor. It was like putting on a custom before getting into character. “But, as you can see from my improvised lesson plan, it’s possible to even chain multiple possessions in just one day! Really beats having to wait for the refractory period to end, huh?” He chuckled in Bill’s deep baritone, hands on his stomach as he felt Bill’s stolen body jiggle and quake with life. This was more like it.

And with the lesson done, Gerald now had plenty of time on his own to get familiar with Bill. Maybe Jerry and Mike would like to get involved as well…