#just something about them all getting to be young and stupid and happy

[megamindsecretlair]

Give Me Everything

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF, cursing, teasing, PIV, oral (male receiving), fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, use of the n-word, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: Thanksgiving Day was always a hustle and bustle of activity and noise, two things you don’t usually like even coming from a big family. While you flitted around checking in on everyone, you couldn’t help feeling a little selfish. After sending Terry a sexy picture while he was seated next to your father, you sneak off to your childhood bedroom to fulfill a little fantasy of yours.

Word Count: 5,518k

AO3 Link

A/N: Ya'll thought I was gonna let the holiday pass without a little treat? I lost the drabble challenge, but well, can't fight my brain no matter how hard I try. Happy Thanksgiving, happy bank holiday, or however you celebrate, many love and blessings to the greatest group of people ever. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

The rich smells of Thanksgiving food permeated the air and tickled your nostrils. You inhaled deeply as you flitted around the kitchen helping out the Aunties. No one messed with the Aunties on Thanksgiving.

You didn’t know how they managed to stay organized among the chaos. Between one of their husbands who constantly entered the kitchen asking when the food would be done and the little kids running throughout the house, it was a miracle they weren’t yelling and cursing up a storm.

“Fix me my medicine, baby,” Auntie Gee told you.

“Yes, ma’am,” you said. You pivoted away from helping Auntie Aileen with the yams and went over to the small pantry, grabbing supplies. You made a quick and dirty margarita for Auntie Gee and placed it in a glass. You already started in on another one because in one, two, three…

“I want one!” Auntie Mimi called out. You smiled to yourself, knowing your Aunties a little too well. Maybe you spent too much time around them all. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Your big family was a handful at times. But at the end of the day, it was nothing but good vibes and great conversation. The Aunties were currently going on about their favorite man, Denzel Washington.

“That man been fine his whole goddamn life!” Auntie Hope called from the round kitchen table. She cleaned the greens, taking the stems off and putting them into a red bowl, to be soaked in the kitchen sink a little later. Right now, your mom was at the farmhouse sink peeling potatoes. 

“Language, young lady!” Your grandmother, Grammy Alice, called out from the stove. She babysat the white sauce for the mac and cheese, carefully adding cheese and stirring to get the mixture right. 

“Sorry, momma,” Auntie Hope said. She grinned at you and winked. 

You giggled and handed Auntie Mimi her drink. “Thank you baby. You better get outta here before they snatch you to do something else,” she whispered.

And that’s why she was lowkey your favorite Auntie. You hugged and thanked her and then quietly slipped out while the Aunties discussed Denzel’s career. They categorically denounced Training Day as his best role. He was just playing a nigga, that’s all. They were stuck between John Q and Glory.

You left the spacious kitchen in a flash, disappearing around the corner and fell into the background as you soaked everything in. The well-decorated living room held most of the men yelling and screaming at the football game playing on the TV. They sat on the blue couch, lounge chairs, and picnic chairs all crowded around the large screen TV. You didn’t know a lick about the game, but by the sound of it, their team was making stupid ass decisions. 

Kids played Monopoly on the floor, a mix of little kids and the quieter teens who didn’t want to play with the older, rowdier teens outside. You carefully picked your way through the living room, stopping to place a kiss on your Dad’s withered cheek. You patted his shoulder and he brought his hand up to pat yours.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yes, sir. Food coming along,” you said.

He groaned aloud with the Uncles and boyfriends, everyone throwing up their hands and calling the ref out of his name.

“They need to get that blind mu’fucka off the field!” Uncle Cornell said. He was the only one semi-dressed up in a pair of slacks and a button up shirt. You didn’t know where Auntie Mimi found this character. 

Your dad chuckled, returning his attention to you. “Good, good. I’ma just sit here until your mom says it’s time,” your dad said with a secret grin. He made the mistake of entering the kitchen early one year, reaching for a piece of the ham and receiving a swift spoon to the back of the hand from Grammy Alice. He still had a little scar from how hard she popped him. 

“Probably for the best,” you said with a giggle. 

You left the living room, trekking through the raucous house in search for a little bit of peace. As much as you loved how big your family was, you were decidedly the opposite sometimes. You didn’t draw strength from being around so many people. You craved the quiet and silence that came with being by your lonesome. Probably a consequence of being an only child.

Perhaps that was one of the main things that drew you to your husband, Terry. He was the opposite to your family as well. Calm under pressure, quiet and unassuming despite his size; he really was perfect for you. 

You found him on the wide back porch with your cousins, sitting around a table playing dominoes. The teens and older cousins chased each other around the yard playing some game they made up years ago. You never understood the rules and your ass was too tired to continue chasing them around.

Some of the girl cousins watched their younger, baby siblings as they talked about whatever it was kids were into these days. Full. Your life was full to bursting and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You approached Terry and pecked his cheek. “Hey baby,” Terry said, lowering his dominoes to the table. He turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist from his seated position. 

“Just checking on you, is all,” you said. “You need anything?” 

Terry used his free hand to lift his half empty beer bottle. “Naw, I should be good for a minute. You need anything?” 

“She needs to leave the table so I can get back to whoopin�� yo ass, Marine boy!” Your cousin, Emery, yelled as he slammed down a domino. “Go on and put that thirty-five down for your boy!” He snickered as the game keeper, Darell, laughed and marked down Emery’s points. 

Terry chuckled and shook his head. He peeked over at the scorecard on the notebook by Darell’s elbow. “Maybe you need to go back to math class. I’m still winning,” Terry said. 

A chorus of oooh’s and damn’s and “You gon’ let him talk to you like that, playboy?” rung around the wooden table. Emery waved them all off, a small smile on his face. 

“Alright, alright. Game ain’t over. Why don’t you go on? You killing the mood, girl,” Emery said. 

“I’m killing the mood? Just like a hatin’ nigga to focus on somebody else while he losing,” you said.

“Damn!” Cousin Craig yelled out, his long skinny face cracking into a harsh, wheezing laugh that only triggered everybody else to start laughing. 

You kissed Terry on the cheek once more, admiring the clean beard on his face. He looked good enough to eat himself. He wore a simple powder blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans that really showcased his sexy ass. Just looking at him caused your stomach to do little belly flips.

Terry squeezed your side and smirked up at you as if he saw the direction of your nasty thoughts. He winked at you and you bid your farewell to the men and their little game. 

The majority of the day passed too quickly as you went from group to group, checking in on everyone. The domino game ended and the cousins joined the Uncles in the living room to check on the remainder of the game.

“Girl, don’t you ever sit down?” Your cousin, Robyn, asked. She was in your age group, relaxing with the other girl cousins who laid across multiple blankets, sipping their drinks of choice, and chilling out. 

You chuckled. “Girl no. Between your momma and mine, I keep getting called to do something. And I feel like if I sit down, I’ma pass out,” you said, shaking your head. 

Robyn and Ronda were twins of Auntie Aileen’s and they both shivered at the mention of their mother. “Please, don’t summon her,” Ronda said, shaking her head. “That lady trynna get me set up with her co-worker.” She stuck out her tongue and gagged.

“Not toxic enough for you?” Auntie Hope’s daughter, Stacie, asked.

“Hell no! That girl likes…theater,” Ronda said, making the word sound dirty. You laughed with your cousins, shaking your head at her. Ronda had the worst luck with women. Last year, one threatened to throw herself into traffic if Ronda didn’t come outside to talk to her. 

You and your cousins merely stared at her through the screen door and dared her to do it. You didn’t really mean it, but the girl was dramatic as hell and too full of herself to actually go through with it. 

“Dare I go check in on the Aunties?” You asked.

There was a resounding, “No!”, that seemed to echo even while outside. You laughed with your cousins. You were feeling restless, though. Anxious. You needed something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

Maybe it was just the holiday. You took after your mother in the sense that you had a strong need to make sure everybody was okay. Everybody had all their toes and fingers accounted for, no bruises, no yelling, or fighting. If everybody else was okay, then all was right in the world with you. 

But sometimes…you got a little impish. Like you wanted to cause trouble just to see what would happen. You wanted to disrupt the delicate balance of the house and festivities and do something wicked. 

An idea immediately came to mind and you didn’t think twice about it. You said goodbye to your cousins, stepping back into the house to check on your dad. Lately, he had been feeling more winded than usual. More tired. You urged him to go to the doctor, but the relationship between men and hospitals needed to be studied. He avoided it like it was a nail in a coffin. 

Terry sat next to your dad, yelling at the TV with him. He brought his beer to his lush lips and took a deep pull. Your core instantly heated looking at your man. There was precious little he did that didn’t absolutely turn you on. 

He caught you staring and winked at you. You grinned and took out your phone, snapping a quick picture of him. He tilted his head, giving you a look. You stuck your tongue out at him and then checked the score. You found a free recliner opposite your dad and sat down, finally taking the load off.

While everyone was distracted, you quickly sent Terry a text. He checked his smart watch and then glanced at you, furrowing his eyebrows in an unspoken question. You smiled sweetly at him while he dug out his phone and checked your message.

💬 You sent a photo.

“Can Big Daddy come play?”

Terry immediately placed his phone down on his thigh, turning wide eyes towards you. You rocked in the recliner, grinning at him. You had sent a thirst trap to him, one you snapped in the bathroom earlier in the day. You had meant to show him at a later time, maybe while he was at work and needed a pick me up. 

He scooted forward on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his beard and tried to suppress a grin, subtly shaking his head at you. 

You continued to rock, feeling pleased as punch. You tried to see if he was getting hard but he was bent too much forward. The men groaned at the latest ref’s call and you turned to the TV to see the teams setting up for another play. 

You glanced back at Terry who kept his eyes trained on you. When you caught his eye, he narrowed them slightly and then jerked his head towards the stairs. You grinned and got up first, heading up to the second floor that remained off limits to everybody. Less rooms to clean up afterwards. 

The great thing about having a big family was that it was easy to disappear with no one the wiser. You headed upstairs to your childhood bedroom, closing the door behind you. The room was just as you left it in your early twenties when you finally moved out. There was still stuffed animals and an overflowing bookshelf in the corner, a wide dresser stretched underneath your TV, and “grown-up” art on the walls. You sometimes missed the B2K and B5 posters had tacked to your wall for years. 

Anticipation churned in your stomach as you waited for Terry’s quiet footfalls to follow behind you on the shaggy, brown carpet. A moment later, there was a soft knock and then Terry entered, looking behind the door for you. You ushered him in and then closed and locked the door, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He had to bend down slightly so that it wasn’t incredibly awkward for you and he groaned. “You trynna get me killed?” He demanded, stepping back to look you in the face.

You giggled and clasped your hands behind your back. “Whatever do you mean?” You asked. 

Terry smirked and advanced on you, causing you to bite your lip and retreat. He crossed the distance in one second, his long legs carrying him forward. He cupped your neck in both of his warm, strong hands and you moaned, eyes sinking lower now that you were back in his capable hands. 

“You think you slick sendin’ that picture while I was right next to your dad?” He asked.

You giggled again. Ugh, you couldn’t help it. He made you feel so feminine and girly whenever he went all big and strong on you. You were working on being more bold, opening your mouth and asking for what you wanted. But sometimes, you got so twisted up with nerves your mouth didn’t work. 

“Did you like it?” You asked. 

Terry squeezed your neck and you sighed at the pressure. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. “You know I liked it,” he said, glancing down at the front of his pants. You followed his gaze and noticed his dick pressed against the fabric of his jeans. You reached out to rub his bulge. 

He lifted an eyebrow at you. “What’s gotten into you?” He asked.

“I can’t just want my man?” You asked. You continued to rub him, watching as his own eyes drooped. His naturally dark eyelashes nearly fanned his high cheekbones. 

“You know, there is one fantasy I always wanted to act out,” you said, forcing yourself to say the words. Even after years of marriage, Terry made you feel like a school girl with a crush. Guess you could never really shake that bit of shyness from growing up in a loud household and seeking only peace. 

“Is that right,” he murmured. 

“Mhmm. I never really got to have boys in my room growing up,” you said. You blinked up at him with a smile hovering over your lips. Terry lightly squeezed your neck, stepping closer, as you continued to rub him through his jeans. His breathing increased, soft pitfalls loud in your ear because he was so close to you. 

“Am I the first boy in your room?” He asked. 

“Maybe. But don’t get a big head about it,” you said. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. His thumbs rubbed across your pulse points on both sides of your neck, turning you stupid in less than a second. You lost your train of thought as the rough slide of his fingers sent electric zings down to the tips of your toes. Your panties grew damp as you sighed. 

You kept waiting for the honeymoon phase to be over, but after a while, you just accepted that you two were just that intense for each other. Growing up, you saw your grandparents, parents, and extended family all find the love of their lives, each carving out a special relationship with their significant others. 

But it was Auntie Aileen’s marriage that you admired. Sometimes she and her husband seemed to communicate with just a look. Like they were the only two people in the world and everything else was background noise. You wanted and craved that. And by some miracle, you found that with Mr. Terry Richmond. 

“And, there’s a few things that I always wanted to do with a boy in my room if I ever got the chance,” you said. Your hands slipped to his jeans, unbuttoning them and then sliding the zipper down. 

“Mm, I think I like where this is going. You know, I had a similar fantasy,” he said. He smirked as you lowered his jeans enough to get to his boxer briefs. His dick was hot to the touch through the fabric, balls heavy, and you slipped your hand beneath the waistband to get to your prize. 

“Is that so?” You asked, palming his dick. He hissed and then released the sigh in a shudder. You grinned, feeling like the most powerful person ever. Just you gripping him caused a reaction. It was heady and intoxicating and you would never get sick of it. 

“Mhm. See, I always wanted to fuck my wife in her childhood home. Like it was a badge of honor or somethin’,” he said, his voice getting deeper and rougher. 

You shivered. Your panties were practically soaked now. Your pussy throbbed at the thought of you both having similar fantasies. You stepped back from his hands around your neck and then dropped down your knees. 

Terry’s eyebrows lifted as you grinned at him. You pressed your nose into his crotch and nuzzled. Terry sighed, petting your head as you tugged his briefs down to expose the long, thick length of him. 

The tip of his dick swelled, pre-cum already beading. You swiped your tongue out and licked it causing Terry to jerk his hips forward. “As much as I love this, we better hurry before one of the Aunties come looking for you,” he said.

You pouted. He was right. A bunch of girls to choose from to handle anything around the house and somehow it always fell to you. 

You sighed and kissed his dick, making it jump. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll make it up to you later,” you said.

Terry laughed and pleasure zinged through you. You loved pleasing your man. Whether it was making him laugh, checking in on him, or pleasing him during sex, you loved it when you could just make him feel good. 

Terry helped guide his dick into your mouth and you looked up at him while you worked in tandem. He pushed in and you sunk onto his dick, wrapping your lips around him. His hairs tickled your face but you kept your mind focused on making him cum as quickly as possible. 

Little did he know, you were in a competition with yourself to make him bust faster and faster. Maybe it was simply the competitive spirit in you. But you swore you’ve come from just a look from him. Turnabout was only fair play. 

Light from your window illuminated Terry through the slats of the blinds. He tipped his head back, mouth falling open as you worked him over with your tongue and hands. You gripped his base, squeezing how he liked while you took the rest in your mouth.

“Fuuck, this mouth of yours,” he moaned. Your pussy throbbed harder, growing wet from the sounds of his moans, the look of pleasure on his face. His eyes were closed, hands around the back of your head to push your mouth further down. 

You took him in and bobbed your head, really getting into pleasing him. You shifted on your knees and squeezed his dick harder. You moaned around his length, getting lost in the feeling of him throbbing in your mouth. His dick poked your cheek and you teased the tip with your tongue.

“Just like that,” he coached so you did it again. You teased the tip while you sucked him off, loud gawking echoing in your ears. 

Saliva slipped from your mouth and drooped down your chin, letting him slip easier in and out. You increased your ministrations, bobbing in a frenzy, watching for any signs of his discomfort. 

You saw none of that. Instead, his face was twisted in a sexy mix of pleasure and pain. Soft moans escaped his mouth as you kept going, kept trying to take him deeper, kept trying to swallow him whole. 

“Fuckin’ perfect. So fuckin’ perfect with my dick in your mouth,” he cooed. 

You moaned, growing unbearably wet at his words. Your jaw started to ache but you ignored it in favor of wanting to get him off. Wanting him to bust in your mouth. You widened your jaw and he sunk in a little deeper.

He groaned and looked down at you. “I’m finna bust,” he whispered.

You grinned around his dick and kept up what you were doing until he gripped your head and spilled down your throat. His moans were their own aphrodisiac, filling you with pride that you got your man off so quickly. You swallowed his cum, something you were still getting used to, and then continued to suck. 

Terry huffed, hips jerking forward, as he couldn’t decide between laughing and moaning. He had to gently push at your head to make you stop and he eased his dick out. “You must think you’re cute,” he said.

You pinched your thumb and forefinger together. “A little,” you said. 

Terry chuckled, grabbing your hands and helping you stand. He kissed you, gripping your face to his to make you stay. You sighed with a moan, wrapping your arms around him. You made out for a good, long while, soaking up each other’s desperate kisses. 

“My turn,” he whispered against your lips. 

You only had a brief moment to catch the devious, nearly evil look in his eye as he lifted your plain gray T-shirt over your head. He didn’t take it off, instead he just wanted the collar over your head to expose your black, lacy bra. 

He groaned, getting a live view of the sexy picture you sent him earlier. He thumbed your nipples through the bra, making them bead up. He backed you towards your closet door, then dropped his head to suck on your nipples around your bra.

You moaned, gripping the back of his neck. “Oh fuck,” you moaned.

“Shhh. We ain’t trynna get caught ‘cause of your nasty ass,” he said.

“My nasty ass?” You asked with a giggle. 

“Your nasty, sexy, delicious ass, yes,” Terry said in between licking and kissing your titties. He used his index finger in between the cups to lower it, exposing your nipples to his gaze. He tucked the cups of your bra beneath your titties and went back to sucking on them. 

Each suckle sent a wave of heat through your body and if you weren’t careful, you’d turn into a raging inferno right there in your childhood bedroom. Your moans only increased, getting louder the more he worked that glorious, hot tongue on you. 

You wished you had enough time to get your pussy licked on. But you were already pushing the envelope at the moment with so many people just downstairs. Risk of discovery only turned you on more, your pussy clenching around nothing. 

Terry slipped his hand down your leggings and past your underwear, finding you soaked. He paused with your nipple in his mouth. “You got this wet from sucking me off?” He asked with his mouth full. 

You nodded. “Sure did,” you said.

Terry closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “Good to know,” he murmured. 

You didn’t have time to ask him about that because he went back to sucking on your titties while he plunged two fingers into your pussy. You cried out, and he gave you a warning look, before working those long, thick fingers in and out of you.

“I-I didn’t suck you off to get something back,” you whispered. As much as you would like to turn this into a full on session, you were also cognizant of the time. Surely, someone would come looking soon, right? You weren’t exactly subtle heading upstairs. 

“Think I’ma leave my favorite girl like this?” He asked. He emphasized his point by plunging his fingers faster, the squelching of your pussy smacked in the room. 

“Oh, baby. Oh, Terry, please, I’m gonna…unnf,” you moaned as quietly as you were able. 

“That’s okay, baby, you cum on these fingers. You cum all over this fingers f’me,” he murmured, still treating your titties like his favorite meal. He kissed, suckled, and nibbled until you turned into a puddle in his arms.

You were only held up by your hands around his neck and his arms around you. You shook violently, trapping his fingers between your thighs as you rode out your orgasm. Terry still managed to wiggle his fingers inside, rubbing against a sweet, sweet spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. 

Your nails dug into his soft sweater and you shivered on your way down from it. Terry kissed and rubbed his beard against your nipples. Was the man trying to kill you? 

He leaned back and smiled at you. “I love the look you give me after you cum,” he said.

You giggled. “What look is that, sir?” You asked.

“Like a well-satiated woman. That’s always my goal,” he said.

You smiled and tilted your hand. “You better be careful talking to me like that. I might think you wanna marry me,” you said.

Terry chuckled. “Oh, I wanna do more than marry you,” he said. He grinned and then gripped the waistband of your leggings and panties. He slid the pants down your legs, his hand traveling behind to rub against your thighs. 

You stared at each other, smiles hovering on your faces, as he got them down to your calves. You stepped out of them and Terry wasted no time picking you up. You yelped as he spread you wide open, hooking your thighs around his waist.

Holding his hand under your ass, he used his other one to guide his dick into your slick heat. Your eyes widened at the glorious, burning stretch as you sank down onto him. Your toes curled as he sank in deeper and deeper, your essence making the trip easy. 

Terry maneuvered his arms under your knees, so that he could easily lift you up and down on his dick. You gripped onto him for dear life, turning wide, panicked eyes to him. You didn’t think he’d drop you, no, your husband was too strong and capable for that. You just felt like you were about to rip apart at the seams and he was the only thing keeping you together. 

“You did say you wanted Big Daddy to come and play, right?” He whispered, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, smooth, and so damn hot you clenched around his dick. He groaned and lifted you off his dick just to sink back in. 

“Don’t be using my words against me,” you said.

“Oh word?” He asked with a grin. All the niceties flew out of the window. He started slamming you up and down on his dick, that stretching burn making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, bringing your face closer to his. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck and held on while he fucked you, stuffed you, and filled you so completely you felt him all over. He was in your heart, your mind, and your soul, writing his name in the threads of your being. 

“There’s my good girl. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you,” he said.

You whined against his face, peppering him with sloppy kisses. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I like when you get bold. Let me know you want this dick,” he said. He rubbed his beard against your cheek and you moaned.

“I want it. Please, I want it,” you whispered. 

Knocking drew your attention to your door. You turned wide eyes to Terry who stopped moving. He glanced towards the door. 

“Baby, you in there?” Your mom called out. Your heart beat in double time, fear turning your insides icy.

“What should I do?” You whispered. Okay, you lied, getting caught would suck ass right now. There was no way to explain this to your mom. You just didn’t talk about these things with her. As far as she was concerned, you were married but still a virgin.

“If you don’t answer, she gonna send a search party,” he whispered back.

“Yeah, mom?” You called out. 

“What are you doing in there? Food’s getting ready to be done so I need your help organizing the line,” she said.

“Yes, mommy, I-I wasn’t feeling well so I came to lay down,” you called out. 

“Do you need some medicine? You want me to grab Terry?” She asked. 

Terry grinned and started moving you up and down on his dick again. Your jaw dropped, tummy fluctuating between arousal and fear. The normal butterflies in your stomach were having a field day. 

You slapped at his shoulder to get him to stop. Or quit fucking around. He couldn’t think this was a great idea, making you take his dick like this while talking to your mom. He grinned innocently, moving his lips down back to your nipples to suck.

You closed your eyes, not knowing where to focus your attention. “Uh-no! I’m okay! I’ll be out soon, promise!” Oh, fuck, he hit a good spot inside you and you clutched him to you.

“Alright, better come on. Your Uncle Remy ‘bout to work my damn nerves,” your mother sniffed as she presumably went on down the hallway. 

You gasped and tapped Terry’s shoulder again. Terry answered you with a chuckle and then ended on a moan. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he moaned like it was a glorious revelation. His deep voice skated along your nerve endings, making your tummy flip with desire. 

“Terry, please!” You moaned.

“Big Daddy ain’t finished yet,” he said and nuzzled your neck. He placed kisses there while he pumped his arms, moving you up and down on his dick. Your toes curled once more, fast approaching that train to nirvana. 

“Oh, please, Big Daddy, I can’t take it,” you cried. 

“Sure you can. Cum on this dick so I can fill you up. Let me feel it,” he said into your neck. His groans joined yours, hips jerking into you like he was close as well. “Soak this dick, baby.”

You dropped your head to his shoulder and let the orgasm roll over you like a subway train. You twitched and jerked on him, keening whines and cries filling your room as you lost sound in your right eye. 

Or maybe this was that nirvana you were dreaming of. Maybe you slipped into another plane of existence where your souls danced and entwined for eternity. Either way, Terry’s groans brought you back to this side of existence while he stuffed you full of his cum.

The hot, thick spurts throbbed with his dick, sliding against your inner walls. You cried, feeling overwhelmed and thoroughly fucked out. You both panted and huffed as you came down, gathering your senses post-nut. 

You smiled dopily at your man and he flashed you a beautiful, wide grin. “There’s that look I love so much,” he said.

“You are dangerous,” you said.

He chuckled. “Saying I’m dangerous while your pussy feel this good squeezing my dick. Just say you don’t wanna let go,” he said.

You squeezed his dick and he laughed, lowering you carefully to the floor. Once he slipped out, his cum came rushing out of you and you closed your eyes to enjoy the sensation. Terry suddenly pushed his cum right back in.

“Terry!” You screamed. 

He chuckled. “I can’t help it. I like watching my cum slide out of you,” he said. He planted a kiss on your forehead and you smiled at him while you crossed the room to your dresser. Sometimes, you came to spend the night with your parents to help keep an eye on your dad while your mom got a break.

You grabbed an extra pair of panties and a towel from off of your bed. You cleaned yourself up as best as you were able and then slipped your leggings back on. Thank goodness that a bathroom was directly across from your room. You wouldn’t have to trek far to get fully cleaned up. 

Terry stuffed that dangerous monster back into his jeans. You stood, transfixed, watching him slide the denim over his dick and zip up his pants with a little hop. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Big Daddy,” you said, admiring your man.

“Happy Thanksgiving, baby,” he said, pulling you into a hug and one final kiss before leaving your room in a cloud of marital bliss.

The end.

I love you all and I'm so thankful for you. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 happy birthday

synopsis: it's a known fact that zoro can't stand his birthday... but when you finally discover the date, you can't help putting together something special

cw: nsfw (male & fem receiving), spanking, dirty talk, zoro's a little rough, some leather, some comfort, maybe a little ooc zoro but who gives a shit, reader + nami = trouble, usopp's a real og, reader can see visions, reader has black angel wings, both aren't really pertinent to the story but they're described, etc.

a/n: happy thanksgiving!

"Ladies, I need your assistance," you stated, plainly, approaching your two best friends—who were lounging on the deck chairs—and plopping yourself down next to them.

This was beyond urgent.

"Of course, (y/n)," Nami nodded, dropping her magazine in her lap and glancing up at you with an inviting smile. "What's up?"

"Is everything alright?" Robin asked, slightly concerned.

"Everything's... fine," you nodded, unconvincingly, actively trying to think up a way to explain. "I just... I did a thing... and learned something I probably shouldn't have... about Zoro."

'Huh?'

"About Zoro?" she raised a brow, now even more intrigued.

"Did he hurt you? Or say something stupid again?" Nami's gaze turned sharp, the woman sitting up rigidly in her seat, ready to go to war. "If he did, I swear, I'll wring his muscly-ass neck!"

"No, no! Not that," you quickly assured, shaking your head. "It's something from his past... from before he met me."

"What happened?" Robin asked, shutting her book, now fully invested. "From the start, if you don't mind."

You nodded, looking down at your lap and recalling the events of the last hour.

"I was doing my daily meditation on the roof of the crow's nest, y'know, like I always do, when I was suddenly hit with a vision," you started. "Now, it didn't come as harshly as the others typically do, so I assumed that it was going to be about something trivial. But that changed when a young Zoro suddenly came into view."

The women sat quietly, listening intently as they took in each word.

"He was training, super aggressively, mind you, when all of a sudden this group of kids comes running up to him asking when he was going to stop."

Crossing one leg over the other, you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Of course, Zoro being Zoro, said he wasn't gonna finish any time soon, but, and get this, the kids say But you're gonna miss your birthday party!"

Nami and Robin gasped, eyes widening slightly.

It was common knowledge that the swordsman wasn't very fond of birthdays—or rather his birthday, specifically.

Whenever asked about it, he often dodged the question, or just ignored it altogether, not bothering with Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's chaotic antics in trying to get him to spill the beans.

Even you were unsuccessful, the man managing to smoothly redirect the conversation with the rough timbre of his voice, knowing it distracted you easily, along with other physical means.

Eventually, you gave up hope, seeing as you didn't even have a clue as to what season the day fell in.

But now... you had a date.

And it was today.

"I know he hates it, but I can't just sit on this," you whined, slumping in the chair. "Before, it wasn't like I could do anything because I didn't know when. But now that I do, I can't in clear conscience do nothing for his birthday..."

"I'm not sure," Robin sighed, quizzically. "There might be a reason why he doesn't celebrate. Maybe something bad happened and caused him to hate the day."

"Or maybe he's just being his typical, difficult self?" Nami scoffed, rolling her eyes before turning to you. "I think it's sweet that you wanna do something nice for him. And I know exactly what you need to do in order to make this the best day of his life!"

Confused, you watched as she leaned over, reaching under her chair and grabbing a book bound with rich, wine-colored leather, the image of a muscular man with extremely long hair and billowing shirt on the cover.

"A book?" you raised a brow. "Zoro's... not really a reader. Especially not something like this."

"No, silly. What's inside the book."

"Paper?"

"Romance."

With an exasperated sigh, she flipped through a couple pages, eyes lighting up when she found the page she was looking for.

"This novel is like a playbook on how to seduce a man," she happily handed it over, allowing you to skim over the text. "Follow that scene to the letter, and you'll have him counting down the minutes until his next birthday. I guarantee it."

"Are you sure?" your nose scrunched slightly at the cheesiness, confused as to why the author kept on mentioning the love interest's rippling pectorals. "This isn't really my style..."

"Trust me!" she grinned, giving you a soft pat on the back. "It's foolproof."

Glancing toward Robin for confirmation, she could only shrug, resting her hands in her lap.

"You know Zoro the best... Do what you think suits both you and him," she advised. "Even if that means trying something new."

Closing the book, your eyes found their way to the cover, your mouth fighting off the urge to stick out its tongue at the sight of the man's chiseled smolder.

He looked more like a girl than you...

"I'll take your word for it."

"(y/n)?" Zoro called, knocking on the door to the women's quarters before carefully pushing it open, slightly frustrated to find that you were, once again, not there.

Well, at least that eliminates the cabin...

Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned around, opting to shift his search toward the deck.

'Where the hell did she run off to?'

It was late, and the swordsman had been searching for the past twenty minutes, having already been through the kitchen, the dining room, the sick bay, the aquarium, the library, and the workrooms, with still no trace of you.

This, of course, was very odd considering you were usually within arms reach of him, the two of you seeming to just naturally float around each other, even as you did your daily routines.

Not only that, but also the fact that he hadn't seen you all day, seeing as Usopp dragged all the men along on a Boys Day Out.

Though, Zoro didn't understand why he felt the need to worry so much.

He knew a million times over that you were a strong and capable woman, and that if anything were to happen, you could more than adequately hold your own.

But for some odd reason, reminding himself of this fact wasn't subduing the concern spiking in his chest.

'Dammit...'

He had to find you and kill this feeling before he could think any deeper into it.

"(y/n)!" he called, looking around as he walked out on deck. "(y/n)!"

When he was no response, he simply tried again, not planning on stopping until you revealed yourself.

"Will you shut up?!" Nami groaned from her spot from one of the lounge chairs, brows furrowed as she looked up from her maps. "You sound like a lost little puppy."

Zoro rolled his eyes at her theatrics, turning to face her.

"Where's (y/n)?" he asked, curtly.

"She's in the crow's nest," the navigator stated, simply, turning her attention back to the papers strewn over her lap. "Said something about waiting for you... though I'm sure you're too busy ruining the peaceful atmosphere."

Sassily, she flipped one of the parchments over, lazily skimming over its contents.

"Mosshead..."

The man scoffed, expression turning sour at the obvious jab.

"If you'd told me where she was sooner, I wouldn't have shouted!"

"If you'd asked me where she was sooner, I would've told you!"

"Whatever!"

He turned away in a huff, walking over to the ladder and grabbing onto the cool metal.

"Good luck!" Nami called, cheekily, waving as he left. "You're gonna need it!"

"The hell?" he grumbled, starting his trek to the crow's nest, muttering to himself in confusion as he approached the top.

He would never understand her...

Hoisting himself up on the balcony, his brow quirked at the soft hum of music coming from the other side of the wall.

'Music?'

Confused, he listened closer, slowly beginning to make out the sound of a saxophone, which was playing over a smooth jazz background.

You never listened to music when you worked out, much less the sultry nonsense flowing through his ears.

And even though he could hear that, he had yet to hear you grunt out a rep, or rack a weight.

What the hell was going on with everyone today?

Curiosity piqued, he opened the door, eyes widening and heart dropping to his ass at the sight that met him on the other side.

Somehow, the crow's nest had been turned into some sort of makeshift love den, the lights dimmed and the mat area lined with lush pillows and fur blankets, candles illuminating the surrounding area and incense filling the room with a light haze, which smelled of sandalwood and jasmine.

And there, in the middle of it all, sat an angel...

Zoro's breath hitched, eyes widening slightly as he caught sight of your naked form.

You were laying on your side, delicious curves on display in the smallest, tightest leather corset he'd ever seen, your tits practically spilling out the top.

Your hair, freshly washed, cascaded beautifully down your side, framing your face and slightly shading your eyes in a way that gave his hand an itch to tug it.

Not to mention your newly-lotioned skin glowing in the soft candlelight, making you look so smooth and soft and primed for grabbing.

And your dark wings only added to the appeal.

The soft music seemed to be coming from a small transponder snail in the corner, its eyes turned toward the wall in hopes of protecting its innocence from the events to come.

"(y/n)..." he started, both confused and painfully aroused, as he shut the door behind himself, locking it. "What're you doing?"

You faltered, an awkward expression settling on your face.

"Being... sexy?"

Zoro paused a moment, waiting to see if you'd change your answer, before breaking into a small fit of chuckles.

Instantly, your face flushed, embarrassment beginning to sink in.

You knew this was stupid!

"Don't laugh, you ass! I was trying to surprise you!" you whined, abruptly sitting up, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You found out it was my birthday today, didn't you?" he cut to the chase, stalking forward. "And then Nami put you up to this?"

The dots were all connecting.

Usopp keeping him off the ship.

You going missing.

Nami's odd comment.

You were trying to seduce him as a birthday present.

Not that he was complaining...

Your lip jutted out in a slight pout, your eyes avoiding all contact with the man as he moved closer.

"I know you don't like celebrating your birthday, but Nami gave me some book that was supposed to explain exactly what men want... and I figured you still deserved something nice..." you limply explained, turning away from him. "But, in hindsight, it was stupid..."

Sitting down in front of you, his pointer and thumb came up to hold your chin, turning you to face him, where you were met with a soft kiss on your forehead.

"It was sweet," he corrected, thumb smoothing over the skin of your cheek. "Even if you look anything but sweet right now... I can tell you put a lot of effort into this."

You perked up at the last part, turning to him eagerly, eyes glinting with hope.

"Really?" you asked, sounding surprised, your expression downright adorable.

Suddenly, the music, the clothes, and the absolutely tantalizing scent of you began to work their magic on him.

All of his thoughts and reason faded into thin air as he stared at your gorgeous, doe eyes.

"Really," he confirmed, voice low and wanting.

And you could only let out a tiny gasp before he grabbed you by the back of the neck and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss wasn't soft or careful.

The kiss was rough; hungry; slow as he drew moans and gasps out of you.

He kissed you like he hadn't done so in ages, and you were starting to believe he hadn't.

His lips were soft, the taste of sake and mint on his tongue.

You let his hand move along your back and ass, roughly squeezing the flesh and making you moan.

Taking advantage over your open mouth, he slid his tongue alongside your bottom lip before slipping it inside in your mouth.

He grunted hungrily as your tongue began to swirl with his, swapping spit and exchanging breath.

The act made your pussy clench impatiently behind the leather, wanting to be touched and treated.

By him.

Zoro then pulled away enough to speak, eyes hooded and dark.

"Where'd you get this little number from?" he murmured hotly against your lips, calloused hands coming up to roughly knead your hips, feeling up the fabric under his fingertips. "Tell me."

One of his hands snuck down to squeeze your ass, and you let him, biting back a whimper in the process.

"W-Went into town," you softly stuttered. "Bought the outfit the girl was wearing in the book."

He started to line kisses all over your jaw, hungrily moving down to your neck; your collarbone; and your naked shoulders.

"Fuck," he growled into your skin. "Too damn good to be true."

His hands roamed up and down your sides, squeezing and fondling.

"Been wantin' your fine ass since I walked in here..."

"You like it—?" The rest of your question doesn't leave your lips as he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you toward him, so close that air couldn't even move between you.

Your bodies were pressed flushed against each other, so close that you can feel the painfully hard bulge in his robe.

He was turned on by you.

He was really turned on by you.

That fact made you delirious.

His lips pressed against yours again, kissing them so much that your mouth was beginning to turn raw.

He began to settle himself among the pillows and blankets, never breaking the kiss, before plopping down on the nearest, largest cushion.

Then, he gripped your hips and coaxed you onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him.

Instinctively, you ground down into his hardening member, enlisting a groan from deep within his throat.

The sound traveled straight to your core.

You wanted more.

"I want you, Zoro," you sultrily whispered in a sudden burst of confidence, manicured hands gliding over his strong shoulders. "Please... I don't think I can wait."

To show how serious you were, your hands came up to undo the laces on your back, freeing your chest for him to see.

The shock in his steel gray eyes is replaced with sheer hunger when he caught a full view of your perfect tits, sitting there just waiting to be touched.

"You little minx..." he chuckled, amused. "Lemme get a feel of you first."

You bit your lip as he leaned forward, laying you down against the brown, furry blanket before prying your legs open.

And there he got a good look of your sobbing wet pussy, the crotch of your leather suit having been cut out.

Eyes widening at the sight, he looked almost pained.

You were going to be the death of him.

"Christ, (y/n)..." he hissed, leaning down to get a better look, gaping at your sex. "You tryin' t'kill me?"

His eyes flicked up to yours, hands still on your thighs.

'Okay?' his eyes asked.

Wordlessly, you nodded, unable to speak.

But that wasn't gonna slide.

Slowly, he began to brush his fingers up and down your wet slit, paying close attention to your reaction.

"Words, pretty," he growled. "Gimme words."

"Yes!" you moaned, toes curling at the feeling of his fingers on your cunt. "Please, Zo'... please touch me."

He gave you a wolfish grin at your pitiful whines, but didn't keep you waiting.

Swooping down, he captured your clit in his mouth, suckling and eating your pussy like a starving man.

He was relentless with his tongue slashed, flicks and long licks up and down your slit.

And you loved it.

Your hips writhed and whined against his mouth, trying to get him closer.

Your pussy pushed past his soft lips, which drew mindless shapes and nonsense words across your needy core.

"You're so wet," he mumbled into your pussy. "Doin' all this in your little suit turns you on that much, pretty?"

You moaned in response, unable to form words, especially when he reached one hand up to play with your breast.

And it only got better when Zoro began to tease your entrance with his middle finger, dipping the tip in and out of your wet pussy.

"You want this?" he asked, voice nothing but a low growl.

You nodded vigorusly, pulling a laugh from the man's lips.

"So needy," he teased as he began to slowly slid his finger inside of you. "S'been a while since we fooled around... Have I not been takin' care of this pussy?"

"Y—!" you gasped, eyes blown wide as you felt your pussy stretch around three, thick fingers.

He aimed up to brush against your clit as he slid his fingers in and out of you, while also leaning down to suck on it, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

You could feel yourself quickly beginning to reach your peak.

'No! Not like this!'

"Wait, Zoro!" you whined, writhing against him. "Not yet!"

He immediately ceased his movement and pulled away from you, glaring confusingly.

"'Scuse me?" he asked, not sounding happy with your protest.

You nearly laughed at his reaction.

"It's your birthday," you explained. "I'm 'sposed to be the one making you feel good. So lay down."

Zoro still looked pissed he couldn't make you cum, but listened anyway.

He laid down, mouth and chin glistening from your juices, and you moved to sit on top of him.

Slowly, you began to kiss and suck your essence off of his mouth, earning low groans from him

Your hands slid down to his broad chest and you gripped his robe.

"Off please?" you asked, peering up at him through your lashes.

You don't have to ask twice.

In a flash, he tugged his arms out his sleeves, pushing his robe and haramaki down to leave him in just his boxers.

You took a moment to admire his beautiful body—so hard and defined with muscle and scars, his lower stomach sinewy with green hair.

He was so, so gorgeous.

Slowly, you glided your hands up and down his hard body, admiring his well-defined pecs and abs.

"You're perfect," you whispered before leaning in to peck his scars, running your lips softly over each.

The low moans and mmms Zoro let slide out his mouth were delicious to you.

They only heighten your arousal, along with the music still playing in the background.

You never pictured yourself getting off on a scene like this, but you supposed it took the right person to bring the freak out of you.

Smoothly, you began to kiss down his hardened stomach until you came down to his boxers, which were already hanging low on his hips.

"Fuck, baby," he hummed, watching you work.

His lips were parted and his eyes were hooded, completely entranced by you.

Finally ridding him of his underwear, you began to think you bit off more than you could chew—or suck, rather—when you get a look at his cock for the first time in weeks.

Lately, between your training schedules and antics with the crew, the two of you had barely had a moment to yourselves.

But you never thought you'd forget how well-endowed he was, dick thick and curved slightly to the left, green hair curling around his stomach and pubic area.

"Hasn't been that long, has it?" he chuckled, teasingly, raising a brow. "You havin' second thoughts?"

"No..." you scoffed, cheeks puffed.

Not wanting to disappoint him, you opened your mouth and slowly began to slide his dick against your tongue.

"There we go," he cooed, relaxing into the blanket. "Good girl... take it all in."

You followed his instruction, your jaw and mouth stretching to accommodate his size.

"Mmm-hmm," you hummed around his cock, he vibrations causing him to moan.

You relished the sounds, wanting more, so you began to move your head back and forth, taking his cock in and out your throat.

You gagged and spat all along his dick, causing saliva to drip down his balls and your chin, making your blowjob extra sloppy.

And Zoro was eating up every second.

He tossed his head back as his eyes rolled in the back of his head, giving you sight that you took a mental snapshot of for a rainy day.

He was so, so sexy.

And to be able to make him feel good gave you the motivation to fight against your aching jaw and burning throat as you continued to fuck him with your throat.

"Doin' so good, baby," he grunted, rolling his hips into your mouth. "So good for me..."

But to your surprise, he suddenly pulled his cock out your mouth.

"But if I'm gonna cum, it's either gonna be on that pretty ass or those pretty' tits ."

You smirked, sitting up and lacing your hand with his, "How about inside?" you purred.

You'd already gotten the hook-ups from Chopper, though embarrassing, and were stocked full of necessary precautions.

And, of course, that was all you needed to say to get Zoro to smash his lips hungrily against yours.

"This gift jus' keeps gettin' better and better," he cheekily growled against your mouth, flipping you both over and laying you down on the brown fur. "Now choose how I'm doin' you before I do it for you."

Not wasting any time, you laid down on your stomach, presenting your ass and dripping pussy for him as you moved a pillow under your hips.

You then looked back at him, only to find him sitting there and stroking himself to the sight of you.

"Like this," you whispered, breathlessly. "Fuck me just like this, Zo'."

Zoro was going fucking feral behind you, and it took everything in his being not to shove his entire length in side you as he began to move closer.

"God, look at you... stainin' the cushions," he sighed as he began to rub your pussy with his cock. "Sittin' nice and pretty just for me..."

Starting out, he went in slow, taking his sweet time to allow you to get used to him.

As soon as his tip entered you, your jaw dropped and your eyes blew wide from the stretch.

No one could ever compare to how warm and solid Zoro felt snuggled up in your pussy.

No one.

You were so glad you had the fur of the blanket to grip at he took a hold of your hips and bottomed out inside of you.

"F-Fuck, Zoro!" you whined, burying your face in the pillows.

He began to bump his hips against yours a little faster now, the sound of skin slapping filling the air as his heavy balls hit your clit.

"C'mon, now, pretty," he huffed. "Y'said you were my present, yeah? Be a good girl and take me then. Make me proud."

He moved to fuck you harder, taking a handful of your ass before giving it a harsh slap.

The feeling was just too much.

He was so deep.

Your eyes were seeing stars, ones that far surpassed the ones lining the night sky.

You had no chance to comprehend anything, too busy taking Zoro's fat cock as he fucked you into oblivion in your little leather, corset.

"Feels good, don't it?" he grunted in your ear.

One of his hands moved to smack your ass again, a wanton moan ripping from your throat.

"Bet you've dreamed about this," he growled at you. "Bet you couldn't wait until I got home tonight."

He leaned down toward you, his lips grazing your ear.

"Bet you've been waiting to get split on my dick for so long."

"Gods, Zoro, yes!" you screamed out to the heavens, fisting the blanket for dear life as he fucked you harder.

You'd never felt like this before; so gone.

Your eyes are closed and your mind is blank, only able to thing of the man towering above you, turned dumb by the waves of pleasure washing over you.

The pleasure was just too good, and you could feel it beginning to build in your core.

"M'gonna cum!" you practically sobbed, your head thrown back. "Zoro!"

The man let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, slightly hiking up his leg to get a better angle.

"Me, too," he grunted. "Want you to take it."

He pressed his lips to your ear, leaning down so his dick hit that spot that had you seeing the entire universe behind your eyes.

"Fuckin' cum for me, pretty," he demanded. "Let me know how good I'm makin' you feel."

And you do.

Moans and gasps leave your lips like a chorus as that coil in your stomach finally snapped.

You unraveled, cumming all over Zoro's dick.

"Oh, my Gods!" you screamed, voice reaching the high heavens.

Your eyes spilled tears of ecstasy as he talked you through it, telling you how good of a girl you were as he stroked your outer thighs.

"Gonna cum, too," he grunted, hips snapping aganist your ass again and again as he chased his high. "You gonna take all of it, baby, hm?"

"Y-Yes!" you choked out, tossing your ass back to meet his thrusts, wanting to make him feel good, too.

He gripped your hips for dear life and came deep inside you with husky, loud moan that made your stomach leap and your pussy clench around his pulsing cock.

You took every ounce he had to offer, not once pulling away.

You could feel it coating your walls, filling you up to the point where you curled your toes and gasped at the feeling coursing through your body.

Finally, Zoro's hips began to slow until he finally came to a stop, pulling out of you with a soft groan.

But he wasn't done.

Still hard, he slid his head over your lower back and ass, coating your skin in his cum.

"So you smell like me," he grunted. "No other man'll even try."

You let out a weak, spent moan as your hips finally dropped, Zoro finally releasing his hold on you as he flopped to your side.

Grabbing you, he pulled your body into him, allowing you to snuggle into his side as he grabbed the blanket, wrapping you both in its warmth.

With the adrenaline now wearing off, and you so limp in his grasp, he began to worry, glancing down at you with a hint of concern

"You alright?" he carefully asked, slightly nudging you. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You slowly shook your head, still in a daze.

"That was amazing," you sighed, pressing further into his warm side. "Best I ever had..."

A proud smile stretched across Zoro's face, chest puffing slightly at the praise.

"So... did this make your birthday a little better?" you nervously asked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Grinning, he gave you two kisses on your cheek, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your jaw.

"It did," he hummed contently. "By a hell of a lot more than a little."

Yes!

Internally, you gave yourself a huge high five, insanely proud that Mission: Mosshead was a success.

And now, you believed you deserved some snuggles in return.

"Cuddle with me?" you cooed, looking up at him through your lashes.

Zoro chuckled, rolling his eyes at you.

"Such a baby," he teased, securely wrapping his muscled arms around you, squeezing. "You're lucky I like you."

"Just like?"

"You know what I mean."

"I think I wanna hear you say it."

"I think I wanna take a nap."

"Zoro..."

"(y/n)..."

"Happy birthday."

"I love you."

[moonflowerdamie]

yellowjackets college au fics you are so special to me <3

(maybe maybe my next fic…? 🫦)

[perenlop]

yeah its important to have interests that arent just for children as an adult because at the end of the day it’s good for you and the way you percieve media overall to have a variety of things that you like but like you also shouldnt make fun of adults who are passionate about childrens media and imply theyre stupid for it. i think both of these takes can exist at once

[milo-is-rambling]

Recently every conversation with my mom has left me feeling like a child again

[inkedbybarnes]

unclear

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.

i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”

wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.

although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.

"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"

"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.

"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."

you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.

but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.

"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"

wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.

the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.

although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.

after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.

considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.

he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.

"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.

"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"

you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.

your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.

"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"

"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"

before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."

and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."

you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.

you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.

it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.

"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"

"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."

"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"

friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.

your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.

with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.

your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.

"ah, fuck."

you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.

"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"

you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"

your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.

"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"

"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"

"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."

"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."

"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."

"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."

oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.

"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."

you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.

"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."

"bucky..."

"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."

"even if i ask for your arm?"

he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"

"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."

his girl. you loved hearing that.

"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.

"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"

"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."

"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."

"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.

"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"

you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"

he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."

your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.

"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."

bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"

you smiled. "like the old times."

in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.

"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.

"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."

"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.

"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."

bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.

and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.

a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[captainsaveawoah]

Idk. Something, something secret baby/double life except Johnny and you are together and you’re kept a secret (surprise the man is secretive about his life) from the team.

Bit of a timeline au, You date a few years, you two get married, but it’s still all a secret. Price has an idea, his will has changed, signed off on it himself but doesn’t dig too deep, knows his boys will come to him.

Gaz is the first to comment, Johnny never taking anyone home. Can hear the man most nights finishing into his hands with a groan that sounds something like a name. Johnny just laughs and tips his beer, steering the conversation away.

Ghost though. Can see it. The way Johnny, despite wanting to charge in, gun ‘em down, will take caution, the worry in his words when he’s hurt or downed, not for himself but for someone at home.

Yet, Johnny stays quiet. Doesn’t say a word, rushes back to a “cold, empty apartment” Simon can tell when he and his bird are having a rough patch (little bit of a ghoap thing because they are as gay as they come idk) can tell when Johnny and his bird are in a good place. But the man doesn’t say a damned thing.

You and Johnny have sex… a lot of sex, when he’s home of course. A young couple, so in love, so happy, so wrapped in each other it’s like you made for one another.

You get married, he builds you a house, moves you to Scotland of course. “Need our weens to speak like their papa, yeah?” Knocks you up. Gives you THE CHUBBIEST little boy with his daddies eyes. You know about the task force, know they don’t know about you. You wish they did, wish you knew them personally, they’re the only family Johnny has, but you know Johnny keeps you away for your safety.

He’s about 3 when Simon is at your door. Your eyes widen, like you think you’re dreaming before your on the ground screaming and BEGGING Simon to say it’s not true.

The big guy sticks around, Johnny had felt he wouldn’t come home on this one, told Simon about you before the mission. Asked him to look after you and his son if he doesn’t make it home for supper. Ghost shrugs him off, makes some stupid joke but watches Johnny’s body crumple to the ground as he gets shot in the head.

Johnny told him it had to be him, “Kyle’s got a bird. Captain’s got too much on his plate. Plus you seem to escape death at every turn. Need you to take care of my heart.”

Your son is quick to take to Simon. You not so much, he hangs around, eats all your food, changes his clothes all the time, crowds your space while you grieve the man who became your whole.

But there are days, when you hear Simon and think it’s Johnny. There are days when Simon holds your son and you see Johnny. There are days when Simon’s head is between your thighs you feel like it’s Johnny. You feel bad, he tells you it’s okay. And you believe him, you feel it, mourn it with each passing day, knowing that one day you’ll look up and see only Simon, Johnny will always be there, but one day it’ll just be Simon.

Idk tho.

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

GUARDIAN GLOVES (M)

★  PAIRING: Boxer! Jeno x Reader 

☆ WORD COUNT: 12k

★ GENRE(S): Brother’s Bestfriend AU, Childhood Friend AU?, Smut

☆ SUMMARY:  No matter how badly you want to start over, your rebellious past follows you to college, and you can't run from it forever Your brother Jaemin was your rock growing up, but now that he has left for an out-of-state university, he can no longer save you. You do not want to burden your brother's best friend, but he might be the only one who can save you from the person of your past who refuses to let you go.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, sexual intercourse, fighting, harassment, and stalking, mentions of violence, guns and drugs, abusive relationships.

☆★ NOTES: Read with caution, please; some scenes can be intense. Leave nice comments, please <3 

It was a mistake; you knew it was a mistake; your brother and friends both told you so. Now, due to the enormous amounts of red flags you have ignored, you have found yourself in some hot water. What can you say? Love makes you blind.

“You cant keep putting up with this! We need to do something,” your friend Ryujin stressed “This has been going on for too long; im scared something serious might happen” You were worried that wrinkles might form from how much shes been furrowing her brow.

“Im fine! Its not even that serious, ok? Just drop it,” you say, sitting on your bed with your head buried in your hands as your roommate paced the dorm room. You had never seen her so upset. 

“No! I will not sit here while my best friend gets harassed! We need to report this!”

“We are NOT reporting this ryu; that will only make things worse.” you sigh before sitting back to look your friend dead in the eyes

“He pushed you down the stairs!?” 

“It was a mistake!”

You met Yuta during your junior year of high school. He was your typical run-of-the mill bad boy; he skipped classes, hung out late, and got high. You knew he was trouble, but that was what you wanted. You grew up rebellious; you were young and dumb. You just wanted attention, and hanging with the wrong crowd got you plenty. You felt unstoppable when you were with Yuta and his crew. When Yuta would parade you around school in your too-short skirt and pretty long legs, you felt special; you felt wanted. Your friends hated him, and they hated what you became. You didn’t listen to their warnings, and you stuck around. 

You stuck around even when skipped classes turned into stolen cars and the weed highs turned into selling. You were stupid to think you could keep up with his lifestyle. You just wanted to piss your family off. You were used to bad boys, but Yuta was something else. 

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself “Look, he's clearly getting bold; I'm afraid he’ll seriously hurt you!” 

“Please, drop it,” you beg in exhaustion. Its been a long day. You had classes all day, and with your yuta problem, you found yourself getting tired a lot faster. You had to turn in his class work on top of yours, which resulted in more time spent in the library. You had been getting home later and later. 

“What about Jaemin? Have you told him? You know he would do anything for you.”

Your brother left for college the year before you. You couldn't ask him to fight your battles  anymore. He got a full ride and was off in another state, living his life, while you were at home bawling your eyes out over the fact that the heartbreaking bad boy broke your heart. 

You had finally broken up with Yuta when you realized he was cheating on you. You should have seen it coming, honestly, The day you checked his phone and found the messages, he didnt even try to pretend like he cared. He had been talking to several other girls while he was with you. You felt so stupid, and that was your last straw. Let us just say he was not happy about it, and he and his friends have been harassing you since.

“That's exactly why I can't tell him; I don't need him flying out just to take care of my issues; I can handle them on my own. He's got his own life; he can't afford any more distractions.”

Your brother was practically your hero growing up. Whenever you were in trouble, he was by your side to protect you. Even though he was really only your stepbrother, he didn’t love you any less. You would always be his little sister.

 Jaemin had been in and out of the boxing ring for years. Bad boyfriends weren't anything new to you or him; he was the one who typically kept them in check. You were the main reason he picked up fighting; he knew, as your older brother, it was his job to protect you, and he would do it to his last breath. He tried to warn you about Yuta, but you didn't listen. You knew he would drop anything if it meant coming to your aid, but you couldn't ask that of him. 

You also know he would never let you live it down. 

You thought once high school was over, you would finally be able to escape Yuta’s torment, but he followed you to your new school. Your brother warned you about him, and now he's not here to protect you anymore. 

"Ok, what about Jeno?” She states hesitantly,

“Absolutely NOT!” you scowl, throwing yourself back into the sheets to hide under the covers

“Yes! Jaemin literally told you to go to him if you need anything! He probably knew you would be too proud to contact him if you were in trouble.”

You sit back up and throw the covers off of you. “It’s not his problem! I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out, ok?” you state firmly

"Fine, you know what fine, its getting late I’m heading to bed…but I swear if he—”

"Ok, Ryujin, thanks really,” you say sincerely. You could never be mad at Ryujin; she was only looking out for you, and you knew she meant well. For all that it was worth, you knew she would always have your back. She would run head-first into battle for you.

You could definitely be mad at Ryujin. In fact, you've been upset for the last hour.

She promised a surprise for you; she said she wanted to take you somewhere to take your mind off of the whole Y*ta situation. Honestly, you were grateful to be getting out of the house; you had been limiting yourself to only going to classes. You were trying your hardest to not run into him. 

You make sure to dress prettily. You were just too excited to finally have a reason to dress up again. You were so excited, you didn't even blink at the all-too-familiar signs and buildings as Ryujin pulled into the parking lot of a run-down boxing gym.

It's not until you have walked into the threshold and over to the rusty sideline benches that you feel overdressed and out of place. Your eyes scan the room, and everything feels so familiar yet out of place that you feel stupid for not realizing sooner.

As your eyes take in the old tattered banners and boxing ring, you realize you were walked blind into your brother's old gym. He and Jeno used to come here all the time to spar and train. This place used to run official matches and business, but it went bankrupt and had to close. Now it was just a place that hosted underground fighting. 

You knew what this was about, and you were upset that Ryujin fooled you into coming. You crossed your arms protectively over your chest, and you had hungry eyes staring at you from each angle.

“You...are... insane,” you hissed at her in anger after you two got settled in your seats. 

“And you are a coward. I'm sorry I lied Ok, but we need his help,” she contests

“You just walked me into a den full of hungry wolves. We're gonna need a lot more than help now!” You whisper harshly.

"Oh, come on, you know jeno’s not gonna let anything happen to you”

It was as if saying his name aloud summoned him; the next thing you know, he is in the ring.

You can't help but hold your breath at the sight. He had grown since the last time you saw him, and you didn't even think that was possible. His face was more refined and sculpted, and his arms were toned with muscles. His shoulders would have had you drooling if it weren’t for the perdicament you were in. They were broad and covered in cuts and bruises, much like the rest of his body. His body relaxes as he shakes away his nerves. He was standing in one corner of the ring, while his opponent stood menacingly at the other end. You think you hear the announcer call out his name—was it Jaehyung? Jaehyoon? Something like that.

You try to duck your head, not wanting to be seen, but you stand out like a sore thumb. As Jeno finished up his quick stretches, his eyes somehow wandered to you. First comes shock, then confusion, and as he rakes his eyes over your outfit, he’s overcome with anger.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

You could hear the scolding now…

”it's too cold to be wearing that”

“it's too dangerous for you to be here”

“This isn't some show; don't bring your friends here”

It wasn't even your fault you were here! You already knew he was not going to hear any of that, though.

He fixes you with a stare that says, “We’ll talk later,” and you groan in annoyance.

Before you can even open your mouth to give Ryujin another piece of your mind, the match begins and draws your attention back to the ring.

Jeno sizes up his opponent as they circle each other, looking for openings. His opponent, Jae Something, was twice his size, and honestly, you were a little afraid for Jenos sake. Jae was inpatient and struck first. Jenos weaves left and holds his guard strong. Jeno played the defense; he was patient, and you find that his fighting style was the mirror opposite of his personality. Even though Jeno had a tendency to lose his temper, it was fascinating to watch him change when he stepped into the ring. He moved with poise and thoughtfulness at every turn. 

Jenos patience rewarded him and he saw an opening In his opponents gaurd. He struck Jae, causing him to stumble back on unsecure footing. This allowed jeno to push his opponent back and switch to offense. Jae was already worn out, and Jeno used this to his advantage, knocking him down and out after hounding him with jabs and hooks.

Jeno was an endurance fighter; his goal wasn't to win through brutality but by outlasting his opponent in a fight.

You were amazed at how far he had come. He was a skilled fighter, as he always had been, but now, after years of honing his craft, you could see he was nothing like the boy you knew before.

The match was over and you were brought back to reality as you realized just what kind of scene you were in. This was an illegal boxing match, and now that it was over, the illegal part really started to stand out. Bets had been placed on the matches before hand and were now being fulfilled. Money was being passed around, and some exchanges even turned aggressive. You knew Jeno had probably wanted you to stick around for your lashings, but this was your queue to get the fuck out of there. You grab Ryujin's hand and try to lead her away from the ever-increasingly aggravated crowd. You navigate through groups of people as you hurry towards the exit. 

On your way, you trip over your stupid heels that Ryujin convinced you to wear and accidentally bump shoulders with someone. You find your footing and apologize. You try to walk away, pulling Ryujin behind you, but feel a rough hand on your shoulder pulling you back.

“Where do you think your going?” a gravelly voice calls out.

“I already apologized; let me go,” you grit out, trying to pull away from the man. He was a little bit taller than you and was twice your age. You noticed the wad of cash in one of his hands and the sickishly sweet smile on his face, and you figured he must have placed a winning bet.

“Don't be like that; how about I take you and your friend here out and we go somewhere private” he says while flashing his money. “Of course you'll have to work for it if you want a tip,” he says repulsively.

From the corner of your eye, you see Jeno pushing through the crowd. The look on his face gives you the chills. 

“Don’t be scared, baby; I don't bite,” the man says. 

Oh, you’re not scared of him; your scared for him.

You know what's coming before it happens, and the man is on the ground in seconds. His money flits through the air before joining him on the ground. The man is clutching his face, and before Jeno can get his hands on him again, men dressed in all black pull the man to his feet and drag him out. You figured they must have been something like security. 

Everything happens so fast, but all you know is that you and Ryujin are both being pulled by an angry Jeno deeper into the building into some back room. Ryujin looks a bit shaken, but you assure her everything is okay now.

 It was dark and chilly in the room. The cement walls offered no warmth as you stood in the middle of what you assumed to be an old locker room. The back of the building was really coming apart; water leaked from the ceiling, and it smelled like mildew. No one really occupies the space anymore. 

Now occupying the space were Jeno,currently trying to reel in his nerves as he drags a hand down his face; Ryujin, shifting from one foot to another awkwardly; and you, who crossed your arms definitely over your chest as you waited for Jeno’s reprimanding.

“You know what I'm going to say,” he huffs.

“I'm sorry, it's really not her fault I'm the one who drug her here; I didn't realize how dangerous it would be” Ryujin tried to defend you, but she didn't know Jeno like you did. He wasnt one for excuses.

“Who are you?” He asks dismissively.  

Jeno had never met Ryujin before. Ryujin had only heard about him through the stories you would tell her about growing up with him and your brother.

“Im a friend; we didn’t come here without a reason we wanted to—” She says but doesnt get to finish

"Jeno, dont be rude. She was only trying to help.” You interrupt. You could not have her bring that up now; you needed his attention back on you. 

“I'm sorry, Ryujin. Can you give us a moment?” He sighs in apology.

Ryujin gives you a look but takes the hint and doesn't push the topic again. She reluctantly walks to the door and waits outside the room. 

Once the door shuts behind her, Jeno wastes no time telling you off. “I dont know why your here or whats going on but you need to leave. You know better than this,” he scolds

You wanted to jump off a cliff. This is absolutely not how you wanted to meet him again. You had imagined this meeting a thousand times in your head. When you finally reconnected, you were supposed to show him how mature you had gotten. This whole fiasco definitely sets you back 10 steps. 

“I wouldn't be here …I wouldn't be dressed like this if I had known we would end up here. It was a mistake. We'll leave, ok?" You say arms crossed and closed off as you dig your heel into the ground.

Even after all this time, he still had a soft spot for you. No matter how hard he tried to be stern with you, one look at the pout on your face made him feel bad. He walks over and closes the small distance between you two. He engulfs you in a hug, and you’re reminded of home. He reminds you so much of your past that it makes you nostalgic. He kisses the top of your head affectionately and lets go, and you’re reminded just how smelly and musty he is as his sticky skin peels from yours.

“Gross,” you grumble

“I think you'll live,” he jokes with a smile. He's a lot calmer now. He leans down to meet your gaze “I'm sorry for being hard on you; I was just worried. You popped up out of nowhere after all this time.

It was so easy to fall back in step with him. You want to tell him everything; all you want is for him to fix everything, but you are no longer that little girl, and you are determined to prove it. 

You’re deep in thought when he asks, “Is everything OK, Storm?”

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname; you haven't heard that in awhile. He's always called you that; when you asked him why, he told you it was because you would stir up so much trouble wherever you went, growing up like a storm. It may have sounded negative, but he didn’t mean it like that. He always said it affectionately. 

“I'm fine; Ryujin brought me here because I said I missed home. She wanted to take me around to some familiar places. I guess she didn't know what really went down at this place” You try to cover up the truth.

Your campus wasn't too far from your hometown, and you go home almost every weekend, but hopefully Jeno doesn’t know that and buys the story. 

He looks a bit sceptical. "Lately, its been hard to come by you,” he says “Are you sure your not in any trouble?”

"I've just been busy with school; its nothing really,” you explain.

He just nods, and you know he does not believe it, but he doesn’t pry either. “Lets get you home; it's getting late” 

When you open the door, Ryujin falls forward, clearly listening in and she gives you a sheepish smile. You grab her arm and pull her along as jeno personally escorts you out and to ryujin's car.

He holds your door open for you and watches as you clamber inside before buckling your seat belt and closing your door for you. You internally groan in annoyance. He was never going to see you as anything but the 7th grade version of you that he first met. The girl needed her brother to save her from herself. 

You are grown now!

He can practically see the words printed on your forehead as he huckles to himself. He didn’t care; he would always take care of you, no matter how much you hated him for it.

 He motions for you to roll down the window before leaning into the car and caressing your face affectionately with his rough, bruised hand. You decide right then that you would never let him get hurt for your sake. He’s fought enough.

 “If you need anything, call, ok?” He says this before drawing his hand back. You don't respond, and he quirks an eyebrow.

"Ok,” You grumble 

“You have my number, right?”

“Yes!” You say a bit louder in annoyance.

"Ok, ok, I'm just checking, you never reach out, I just want to make sure your okay,” he continues 

“Actually, can I take your number? I'm practically her guardian now. I'll make sure to keep you updated if she needs anything” Your friend butts in with a smile.

Jeno happily gives her his number, and you just sit in the passenger seat like a child, watching as your parents fuss over you.

You are grown now!

Mondays are the worst days of the week, not because you have to go back to classes. You loved class, you loved learning and you loved your teachers. It wasn’t until college that you found out that you really enjoyed learning. Yuta would have definitely laughed at you if you told him that in high school. 

Yuta was the reason you hated Mondays. Mondays were the worst because they meant no more hiding. You couldn't stay in all day; you had to go to class, and that meant running into the devil. You were lucky enough to only have one class with Yuta, and that class only met on Mondays. 

You find your way to your seat at the back of the class, hoping to hide away from him, but you know he will find you. You felt his presence as he slipped into the seat next to you. 

“Morning doll, did you get my text?” 

You hated when he texted you; it was always a disturbing photo. Last time you opened a text from him, it was a video of him fucking some girl in a dark alleyway. In the video, he made the girl drop to her knees and open her mouth. He pressed the barrel of his gun into her mouth and made her suck it off. ‘Wish this was you’ was the text he sent after the video.

Since then, you have made it a point not to open his texts, but it seems like he wasn't going to let this one go.

“I’ve been busy; i hadnt had the chance to”

"Well, that's no good doll; why don't you open it now?” he smirks wickedly.

“I dont think—”

“Open it,” The playfulness slips off of his face and replaced with seriousness 

You never noticed it before, but Yuta could be terrifying. He never showed this side to you before, but your certain this was the side everyone else saw. He made a promise to follow you to the end of the earth, and so far he has kept true to it. 

He had gone from being your high school’s bad boy to the campus’s star athlete. Yuta had completely rebranded himself after graduation, and it made it even harder to report him. No one would believe you. He would just spin the story and make you out to be some bitter ex, making up lies to try to ruin his college career.

With shaky hands, you unlock your phone and go to your messages, clicking on the conversation with the unsaved number attached to it. There, you find a video waiting for you. You turn your volume all the way down and hit play. This time, it was a video of you a few nights ago, exiting the gym with Ryujin and Jeno. The camera work was shaky, and it seemed to have been taken from behind a car or a bushr? You couldnt tell but your heart was beating outside your chest.

Your eyes are glued to the screen as you feel a firm hand caress your tense shoulder until it grips the back of your neck. "Now why does it look like my doll is cheating” You freeze in place as your mouth hangs open. “Who is that?” he asks.

You had no idea he was following you. How long had he been following you? The grip on your neck tightens.

“Answer me,” he whispers cruelly, his eyes darkening with rage.

“He’s no one” tears well up in your eyes. Ryujin was right; this was getting out of hand.

“Let me catch you with him again; I'll make you regret it,” he whispers. He kisses the side of your head and breathes in the scent of your shampoo. He releases you, and you release the breath you had been holding. 

You can barely pay attention to anything your professor is saying; you just stare blankly at the front of the room.

You sent Ryujin a text to meet you in the library. You hated to dump all of this on her but you had to talk to someone. You could already tell she was frustrated with you about the situation, but she was the only one you could confide in. With her around, you didn't feel so alone in this. 

“He did what?!”

“Its ok, if I do what he says, everything will be fine; i have it under control,” you reply sheepishly

“No! You need to report his creepy ass to the cops!” she yells in disbelief.

“Keep it down; we’re in a library,” you remind her

“Dont try to change the subject,” she whispers 

“I'll figure this out” 

“We will figure this out.” she says, grabbing your hand and giving it a supportive squeeze.

When she lets go of your hand, hers slip under the table. You don't see it, but she’s texting someone, typing furiously before hitting send.

You try not to be mad at Ryujin, but you can't believe she went behind your back and snitched. Now, here in front of you, sits the last man on earth that you want to worry. Ryujin mouths a sorry and sends you an apologetic look. Jeno had arrived about ten minutes earlier, and he looked to be trying to keep his calm before confronting the matter.

“Is this some intervention?” you joke to lighten the mood. 

“Ryujin told me everything; do you think this is a joke?” He questioned, trying to stay patient with you. “Why didnt you tell me sooner”

You sigh, feeling ashamed. Everything was always so tense between you two. You had grown apart over the years, and it was difficult to think he was once like a second brother to you. But time was not the only factor to blame; high school also played a part. Puberty changed everything. It changed you, it changed jeno, and it definitely changed how you felt towards him. You had such a massive crush on him in high school that even your brother found it hard to ignore. You made Jaemin swear to secrecy and never tell a soul. If you had known Ryujin was going to call Jeno, you would have sucked it up and reached out to your brother.

You didn’t want Jeno to get involved. You kept telling yourself you didn't want him to get hurt, but you had to be honest with yourself. There was another reason you didn't want to ask for his help, and it was because you were still embarrassed. Anything was better than sitting in front of the man who rejected you. 

Summer freshman year of highschool

You thought you had finally grown up in his eyes; you thought your newfound curves were enough to make him see you as more than “Jaem’s little sister.” You thought you could fool yourself into believing you had a chance. 

It wasnt abnormal for jeno to sleep over at your place during highschool. He would crash in Jaemin’s room and eat breakfast with your family, like he lived there. One night, you catch him alone and tell him how you feel. You waited for him outside the bathroom. He was showering, and you were certain your brother was too engulfed in his game to interrupt you. Jeno had exited the bathroom wearing sweats and a tanktop, drying his hair with a towel. He had almost walked right by, not noticing you. You stood in front of him wearing a similar white tanktop and sleeping shorts, your nipples poking through the fabric of your shirt. You were so sure you would have his attention, but he just tentatively acknowledged you.

“Im sorry, was i taking too long?” he asked apologetically

"No, i actually wanted to talk to you about something”

He just nods his head and waits for you to continue

“I really like you, and I was hoping I could spend more time with you... just uh… the two of us,” you said shyly, unable to find the right words.

You couldnt meet his eye and stare at a random spot on the carpet

You felt a gentle hand stroke your head affectionately. You look up, hopefully but your world comes crashing down with his next few words

“Your like a sister to me; of course we can hang out more,” he smiles brightly, unknowingly ripping your heart out

Ever since that night, you have avoided him like the plague.

‘I just didn't want to worry you or jaem.” you say, ashamed.

“I won't tell him but if you think I'm going to sit back and let this happen, your wrong”

“I didn’t think it was that much of an issue yet.” you say, picking at your sleeves.

Jenos eyes harden with disbelief  “Are you serious? Not much of an issue?” he grits “Hes threatening you”

"Ok, ok, your right; I shouldn't be taking this lightly” You try to soothe things over with a weak smile.

“Give me your phone,” he says, holding out his hand

You unlock it and hand it to him, unsure of what he's going to do. After messing around with it, he hands it back. “I blocked him; dont even think about texting him again.” he warns

“Jeno! I have to; hes going to be pissed!” You take your phone back, looking through your messages, but you’re unable to find the conversation again. You didn't realize how much control he had over you. You thought all you had to do was follow his orders, and you would be alright; one day he would just get bored of you and stop. 

“Don't you hear yourself? Your scared!” he yells. He hated seeing you like this. He promised Jaemin that he would watch after you, but here he was, blind to the cruelty that you had endured. “Once this is all over, I'm telling Jaem.” 

(¬_¬) snitch 

He gets up, preparing to leave, while both you and Ryujin stare at each other. Well, you glare at her while she communicates a response with her eyes in return. He doesn’t turn to leave before saying one last thing: “Keep your phone on you at all times, and I'll be walking you from your classes from here on out,” he states sternly. 

“I dont know if that’s a good idea; he told me not—”

“Are you more afraid of him or me?” he asks you

Point taken.

You wait until Jeno is out of earshot before you whisper yell at your friend, “I told you not to tell him!”

“I had to! I was worried”

"Well, great, now he's worried and probably thinks I'm an irresponsible idiot!”

"Well, you are,” she counters, “whats your deal anyway? You seriously think Yuta is just going to leave you alone? He's gonna end up killing you!” she scolds.

You take a moment to process her words. She had a point, but she didn't know Yuta like you did; neither of them did. He was dangerous. You just wanted to keep your friends safe, but you might have gotten in over your head.

You finally make it to your destination; you drove to the old gym, hoping to find Jeno. You could have called or texted him, but you knew it would be easier to get your point across in person. You had at least wanted to let him know what he was getting himself into. Yuta was dangerous, and no matter how strong Jeno was, he wasn't bulletproof.

You park your cute little beetle and cringe; you definitely didn't belong in this scene, and everyone around was going to know it. A sticker-bombed Volkswagen Beetle in the middle of the parking lot of a broken-down and shady gym? Perfect combo!

Luckily, there were only a few cars tonight. You figured it must not be fight night, and you prayed that you found Jeno inside. You gather up your courage and march inside. You make your way down a narrow hallway that opens up into the main gym, and that's where you find him. There were a few other fighters occupying the space, but they seemed to be wrapping up. Jeno must not be the only one who comes here to let off steam, you assume. 

"Oh, who's this cute thing?” one of the guys says as you catch his eye on his way out.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you Haechan; thats Jenos Girl,” another voice says, coming up behind him before slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Excuse him,” he says politely before pulling Haechan away and scolding him.

The one that wasn’t Haechan was there the night Jeno punched that weirdo out. Apparently the whole gym knew you as Jeno’s girl, according to his rambling. Their arguing fades away and the last thing you hear before complete silence is “Get off me Renjun your musty”

You laugh to yourself before scanning the room, and you bring your eyes back to the man nestled in the corner. He's facing a punching bag with his hands tightly wrapped and his headphones secure on his head. He wasn't still for a second, staying light on his feet as he threw a few hooks at the bag. 

You were almost afraid to accidentally sneak up on him because that would not end well. You stay cautious and keep a safe distance, choosing to call his name a few times to get his attention. Your practically screaming, but he can't hear you. You wonder what brand of headphones he had because that noise cancellation was crazy! You choose a different approach and spot a disregarded boxing glove on a side table. You walk the short distance, grab the item and chunk it at the back of Jeno’s head. 

Now clearly, you weren’t trying to poke a bear. You were aiming more towards his broad shoulders, given that was a better target, but your aim was off, and you almost knocked the expensive-looking headphone off his head.

Jeno whips around angrily, opening his mouth to curse, but stops himself short once he notices you. He settles for a deep, exasperated sigh and a sharp glare. He must have been at it for awhile because he was drenched in sweat, and his bangs hung messily in his eyes and were dripping sweat. He pushed the wet hair back from his eyes, showing his forehead. He looked so good when he was angry; his eyes were narrowed dangerously, and his chest heaved heavily.

“Why are you fucking with me?” He says this, coldly pulling his headphones off his ears and letting them hang around his neck "You better have a good reason for being here when there is a psycho after you. I clearly remember telling you to stay away from this place?” 

Oh yeah, you definitely poked the bear. Hes pissed.

“Are you sure you want to get involved?” You try to find your words. “Yuta isnt like the little boys you and jaemin used to beat up in highschool”

“You could never keep yourself out of trouble, huh?”

“I'm not asking for your help!”

“Drop the act for once, would you? Your not tough so stop acting like it!”

“I’m not being tough; I just don't want to be a bother! I'm not the same kid! When I’m falling, you always save me, and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being weak. I don't need your help, so why don’t you drop the older brother act? Your barely even older than me!” You pitch back

“Jaemin told me to look out for you so thats what im doing,” he huffs 

“And that's your only reason, right? Your just looking out for me because my brother said so” you scoff, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. " How about this? I take you in the ring and show you what I got. Let me show you I can take care of myself” You cross your arms and send him a defiant look.

“Are you seriously—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head in disbelief “You know what fine. Show me what you got”

You smile in triumph and walk over to the center of the gym, where the ring sits. You take off your shoes and crawl inside. The mat felt cool under your feet; it was a grounding sensation, and just once you understood why Jeno loved standing in it, even if it meant fighting. You scan the gym, and memories fill in all the rust, broken pipes and holes in the wall as you remember what the gym used to be. Your stuck in a trance until you feel something soft but firm hit you in the head, knocking you from your daydream.

“That was payback…. but you also need to be mindful of your surroundings. Not starting off so well, angel,” Jeno says, shaking his head as he adjusts the punching mitts over his hands. 

You’re brought back to the present and finally notice the boxing gloves at your feet. You get the memo and put them on. 

“This can't be too hard,” you mutter to yourself.

Your both centered in the ring and you focus on jenos movements. You grew up being dragged to almost all of your brother's matches; you figured you had watched long enough to catch on to some moves. You throw a punch at Jenos mitt, and he cushions the blow. He lets you get comfortable throwing a few punches before he counters. He makes his movements very big and obvious; you can see his strike from a mile away. You weave under it and throw a punch at his gaurding mitt. 

Hes going easy on you

You continue to spar, and Jeno is in full coach mode. He's guiding you in the correct stance and helping you learn what to look for when someone strikes. You've been at it for about 30 minutes now, and you've gotten faster at dodging and reading his movements. He’s still going extremely easy on you, but upping the ante just a little. You were completely absorbed in the lesson.

“Nice hook, put you jab lacks power,” he instructs.

You were good at putting your body into your hooks, but you just couldn't build enough momentum for a strong jab. You try again, but it falls flat, and Jeno shakes his head. 

“Follow through; come on, try it again,” he encourages you. You take a breath and send a jab into his mitt. Still not enough. 

Jeno takes off the mitts and moves in closer towards you.

"Here, watch me,” he says, raising his gaurd and striking the air. “You want to step into it, see?” He shows you again, a little bit slower.

You give a determined hum and copy his movement, but you can tell by Jeno’s face that you're missing the mark. 

"Ok, come here; let me show you” Jeno moves in behind you and grabs your arms. He helps you fix your posture and you instantly heat up at the contact. You try to keep it together, but the way his chest was pressed up against your back and the way he was breathing heavily in your ear had you reeling. "Ok, now focus, step into it and jab.” 

He moves one hand down to your waist and pushes you forward, guiding your step, while the other helps you jab. He was so close. You wanted to blame the sudden weakness in your limbs on the endless training he has you doing, but you know its from the heat of his body.

“Are you okay? That one was really weak. Are you shaking?” Jeno looks at you from over your shoulder, worried. 

You meet his gaze and nod silently. He's so close. His lips are a breath away, and all you have to do is turn your head to meet his lips. The hand holding your waist travels up your side and grabs your chin. He tilts your head up a little, and his lips are meeting yours. You turn in his grasp and kiss him back. His lips are so soft, and when you pull away, you immediately miss the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“I'm sorry; I shouldn't have done that,” he says softly.

Before you can protest, he pulls away from you, cleans up the equipment you two used, and calls it a night. You let him walk you to your car, and you say nothing before you drive away. If it wasn't awkward before, it definitely would be now.

How could he kiss you and then pretend like nothing happened? You’re too embarrassed to bring it up again. Does this count as being rejected for a second time? Nah, he kissed you; you're not taking another L. 

It had been a week so far, and Jeno had shown up promptly to all your classes. He shouldered your bags and carried your books as you both walked across campus. Neither of you brought up the kiss, but fortunately, it wasn't awkward anymore. He had started teaching you to defend yourself at the gym sometimes after class. Those moments felt the most intimate. You could feel his passion when he taught you, and it warmed you in all the right places. You two talked about everything in these moments. You shared embarrassing memories from high school, and he told you stories about Jaemin that you would never let your brother live down. You talked about everything but the kiss. You wonder if he regretted it?

The funny thing about college was that the classrooms were so big and there were so many students that it was hard to keep track of who was who. That's how Jeno ended up in you’re lecture every Monday. It was the only class you had with Yuta, and Jeno wasn’t taking any chances. You told him it wasn't a good idea, and the eyes burning into the back of your head were proof of that. Jeno was by your side the entire period, and to onlookers, you two probably looked like a couple. He had scooted your chair directly next to him and was practically shoulder to shoulder with you. 

“Back up; I can feel you breathing down my neck” 

“I want to see what your doing”

Jeno didn't go to college. He mainly just worked during the day and fought on the weekends for extra cash. His parents were absent for the most part, and he kind of took care of himself growing up. He didn't really have a support system growing up, and that was one of the main reasons he found himself at your house. The only other place he felt safe was the gym. You could only imagine how devastated he was when it shut down. You can understand why he decided to stick around when things turned shady. Jeno earned enough money to support himself, so he never felt the need to go to college, which is why Jaemin didn't feel to bad about dumping you off on his shoulder.

“I can't concentrate Jen,” you scold.

He spends half the class peaking over your shoulder as you work and the other half asleep on the desk. Some guard dog he was.

Yuta didn't bother you during class anymore, and you were grateful. You could finally focus on bringing your grades back up, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was plotting against you the entire time. After class, he would hang out in the library or, if you had a long day, the gym before returning to pick you up.

Later that day, Jeno was supposed to meet you after your econ class, which was your last class of the day, but you were surprised to not see him silently leaning up against the wall opposite the door. You try your best to calm your nerves as you try to decide if you should wait for him or not. You tried not to freak out; he was probably fine. Maybe he thought you could handle walking yourself home for once; you couldn't expect him to be there all the time. Not to mention you hadn't run into Yuta anywhere other than class.  

Your last class ends late, and the sun has already gone down, so you were really reluctant to leave without Jeno. You try your best to channel the old you, the one that ran with bad crowds, the one who feared no one and nothing, and the newer you, who had trained with Jeno and learned how to protect yourself. You put on your best face and begin trekking home.

As you walked, you realized It wasn't so bad; you had honestly forgotten how nice it felt to just walk around by yourself and clear your head. You were enjoying your walk home, and you were about two blocks from your dorm when you felt something in the air shift. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone. You try to pick up your pace as subtly as possible and pull your phone from your bag. You dial Jeno’s number with quickness and wait for him to pick it up. You can feel the person behind you’s steps quicken. 

Come on, please

You beg internally as you break out into a small jog. Screw being subtle; someone was clearly following you. You didn’t dare chance a look over your shoulder as you cut across a lawn; his phone went to voicemail, and you dialed again. The person behind you is right on your heels and you drop your phone as a firm hand grabs your arm. Your first reflex is to scream, but you remember Jenos teachings: you jab your elbow as hard as you can into the attacker's ribs. Your about to break his grip when you hear a familiar groan. You turn around to look at your attacker, and you notice its just Jeno.

He's looking at you with a worried expression, like he didn't just chase you for a full block.

“What are you doing!?” 

“I was trying to catch up to you!” He lets you go and holds his ribs, groaning in pain.

“Why didn't you pick up weirdo? I thought someone was going to get me!”

“I was running late and left my phone at home; I thought you would at least wait for me,” he states

You calm your nerves and sign in relief. You shake off your backpack and shove it into his chest.

“Dont be late again; what if something had happened”

“You know I would never let anything happen to you, right?” His eyebrows furrow, and he looks into your eyes. He needs you to know that he would throw down everything to make sure you were okay.

“I know that” Your heart skips a beat, and he grabs your hand reassuringly. You were grateful for the night sky because you could feel your face heating up.

"Good,” 

You finally arrive at your off-campus dorm and make your way inside. Your roommate didn't seem to be home yet; typically, she came home late because she had to work late at her job so you were grateful for the time you had alone with jeno. 

It isn't until he sets your things down and you flick on a few lights that you see a few bruises and cuts on his face. It was not surprising to see Jeno bruised up, given his fighting background, but these appeared to be from a recent fight. When he notices your gaze, he turns to hide his face and begins unpacking your bag and arranging your study materials.

Jeno had insisted a few days ago that he stick around a little after he drops you off. He insisted it was for your protection so you guys started studying together. Well, you started studying; Jeno just watched you or took a nap next to you on the sofa. 

“We should start soon; it's getting late,” he says, trying to redirect your attention.

You refuse to let it go though and move in closer to get a better look. “Who did this?” you say as you gently caress his face, moving it around to examine the damage

“I had a match the other—”

“Don't lie to me,” you urge

“He sent some guys after me,” jeno confesses

Your heart drops. This is exactly why you didn’t want him to get involved. Its like he can read your thoughts because he immediately tries to ease your worry.

“Calm down; this is nothing. You know me, I can hold my own,” he says

You didn't respond.

“I took care of them; you dont have to worry”

You stare at him incredulously “Is that why you were late today?” 

"Maybe,” he winces

“Jeno!” you scold. “Was Yuta there?”

“I tried to look for him after, but apparently he had an away game tonight,” he answers. 

“Let me clean you up” 

Jeno wasn't that much taller than you, probably just a few inches, but you found it easier to work on the cuts on his face by sitting on the counter. You already had your materials prepped; you kept a first aid kit on hand at all times; it was a habit you couldn't shake. This wasn't the first time you found yourself in this position with Jeno; you had always cleaned him and your brother up during childhood. You felt terrible; you worked in a silence that Jeno kept trying to break. Anytime he would open his mouth to speak, you would dab at his lip with more ointment to shut him up until he got the memo. He kept trying to cheer you up and you werent in the mood

He winces at your touch, and you immediately let up and give a short apology. You go back in with a lighter hand and add a bandage. As many punches as he takes, you would think a little peroxide wouldn't hurt. You were done fixing him up, and you busy yourself with putting your kit back together, ignoring the eyes that bore into you. You wanted to leave and put some distance between you but he wouldnt step from between your legs. 

“Hey, look at me.” he calls out to you. 

You could not bring yourself to look at him; each scar on his face reminded you that it was your fault that he was hurt. 

“Its not your fault” its like he was reading your mind.

"Yes, it is! I shouldnt have gotten you involved! I should have just called Jaem.”

“You would rather see Jaemin beat up?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“He would have at least deserved it,” you say, rolling your eyes and thinking of all the times he tormented you growing up.

A comfortable silence falls between you two after sharing a laugh. He was so close, but you reached out like he was going to disappear. You tentatively caress his bruised cheek; he leans into your touch, and the look he gives you gives you butterflies. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“I like being near you;  don’t push me away again”

"Jeno,” you say, shocked by his confession

“I dont want us to go back to the way things were I—

You push him away before jumping down from the counter; you don't want to hear anymore. You had a feeling you knew what he was getting at. After all this time and all the hurt, now he likes you!?

“You were the one who made it like this! Made US like this. I told you how I felt all those years ago, and you rejected me!” you argue

“What are you talking—”

“Drop it,” you demand, trying to leave the bathroom, but he stands in the doorway, blocking your path.

“What did you mean? When did I ever reject you?” Jeno tries, but you ignore his gaze until he grips your chin and forces you to look at him.

“Stop being like that and answer me.” he says.

You were tired of holding your tongue; you might as well get it over with. “Do you remember that time during highschool? When you stayed with us the whole summer?” you worry your lip. “I told you I liked you and you said I was like a sister to you,” you heave out in one big breathe

Jeno takes a moment to process your words, and he finally says, “I had no idea that was what you meant back then. I thought you hated me since I was always over. I thought the ‘I like you’ was more of an ‘I like you around’,” Jeno explains.

“Why would I hate you?” You ask in shock

“Jaemin used to always drag me around to scare off your boyfriends; I thought you might have hated me for that. You never really went out of your way to speak to me, I guess? I asked Jaemin if you hated me that same night, and he told me no. Then I ran into you in the hallway, and you suddenly told me you liked me, so I figured he told you to set things straight?” 

He wasn't wrong; back then, you kept to yourself and watched from afar. You hoped you could make him come to you. You were too scared to approach him, so you did everything you could to get his attention. You got into trouble, so he and Jaemin would have to come to your rescue. You dated all those guys to make him jealous. This whole time, you thought he couldn't care less about you, but it seems the whole time he was worried you hated him. 

"Well, that doesnt change the fact that you only see me like a little sister” 

“I kind of did, at first. You were my best friend, little sister, and I had to see you that way. Jaemin would kill me if I didn't. But I can't, not anymore. Truthfully, I never had.” He caressed your face and pressed his forehead against yours “I'm sorry if this is all confusing for you. I know it has been for me, but can we just try something?” He holds your eye contact, and your faces are so close that you can feel his breath. He smelled so good; the minty scent of his tooth paste mixed with the natural musk of his skin was driving you crazy. You had waited for a moment like this for almost forever.

“Anything; I'll do anything with you,” you say, almost forgetting to breathe.

He pushes you back and sets you on the counter again as he leans in and caresses your lips softly with his, teasing you like he has been doing for the past few years. You cannot take it anymore; you cannot wait anymore, so you take the dive. You press your lips fervently against his, causing him to hiss slightly from the sting, but when you try to pull back to apologize, he grips the back of your neck and reconnects your lips again. He moans into your mouth as you lick the cut on his lip, which will undoubtedly scar apologetically. You try to kiss him more gently but when he feels your hesitance, he pulls away just for a second to whisper, “don’t hold back”

Your hands find their way into his hair and his find their way under your thighs, hiking them up and around his waist. Things were getting heated fast, and you could hardly breathe. Everything you ever wanted was coming to fruition right in front of your eyes. When he finally pulls away to catch his breath, he does not waste any time kissing your neck. The force of his kisses makes you weak, and you have to lean against the mirror behind you to stay upright. 

You could hardly keep up; your limbs felt like they weighed a ton, and you could hardly hold your head up. The way he was rolling his hips into yours made your breath start to make condensation on the mirror as you laid your face on the cool glass. Jeno eventually found your lips again after his short exploration and claimed them hungrily.

“What's gotten into my baby? You can't handle it?” he teases

This was the first time he’s called you that, and it was driving your heart beat up dangerously.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of you, like I always do,” he murmurs against your lips before leaving you with a peck. 

He pulls you off the counter as he leads you to your bed. You were in a daze; your brain was running hot, and you couldn't even think of anything but the feeling of his hands caressing your sides from under your shirt. 

“Tell me you want it” Your eyes flutter a bit at his tone. He sounded so good. You needed him inside of you; that was the only thing you could think of.

“I need you inside,” you moan with a roll of your hips

“Gotta get you ready for that first,” he says as he begins to strip you of your clothes before he follows with his own.

You definitely had brain fog but the sight infront of you cleared it up. He looked so good, you had to bite your tongue before you let out an embarrassing sound. His broad shoulders and slim waist hovered over you tauntingly, like his body was begging you to mark it. His length stood proud against his abdomen, and you had to will yourself to meet his dark graze again. When he licks his lips, you pout and give him a "hurry up" look.

 He wastes no time and starts stretching you out over his fingers. You return every kiss and nip he gave you earlier and more. You mark up his neck with kisses and bites and leave pretty claw marks down his back  and chest as he works his fingers in and out of you skillfully. He had to bite back the groans that threatened to leave his mouth as you gushed all over his fingers. He couldnt wait to feel you around his cock. You feel yourself getting so close. You roll your hips as he scissors you open. He senses how close you are and hooks his fingers as they drag deliciously against your walls. You finish all over his fingers.

“You must have been so pent-up, baby; that didn't take long at all?” he coos teasingly

You shoot him a glare and retaliate by wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him into place. You grab his length and stroke it. You give him a few sensual pumps before you crack. You wanted to tease him like he's been torturing you, but you couldn't keep waiting; you needed him inside so you slipped him in. He chuckles softly at your failed attempt to get back at him and pecks your lips affectionately. You shudder at the feeling, and your walls are squeezing him so tight that the soft patterns he was drawing on your skin turn into harsh grasps of your hips while his soft chuckling turns into a surprised gasp. He moans softly as he tries to ground himself.

“You want it bad, huh?” he tries to get you to beg but it comes out more whiney than domineering 

“No more waiting; if you wont do anything, I'll do it myself,” you threaten. 

He finds your threat cute and has decided to take mercy on you. He strokes slowly at first, making sure you’re not hurting or uncomfortable. You loved this man, and you loved how much he cared for you, but right now you didn't want that. Despite his constant nagging, he has always been nothing but gentle with you for as long as you can remember. You don't want that side of him. You want it rough.

“Dont hold back,” you mirror his words from earlier “you wont break me,” you reassure him when you see worry settle into his features

“What if I do?”

“I want you to,” you whisper back 

That seems to do the trick because now he was hoisting your hips up, tilting them to fuck into you as deep as he could. Your lower half is lifted from the mattress and all you can do is hold on to the sheets. He was thrusting in deep, craving as much contact as possible. 

You try to match his pace and fuck back on him, but you grow tired and just settle for taking everything he gives you.

He sets your hips back down before yanking one of your legs over his shoulder. He starts back  up again, and you can see the way his veins strain against his arms at the force he's using to fuck you. You were sure to have pretty bruises in the shape of his hands in the morning. The bed creaked loudly as he pounded you into the mattress, and you prayed that Ryujin wasn’t home yet. 

It was like he couldn't keep his hands off of you; they were never still on your body. First they were grasping your hips, holding you steady as he drilled you, then they were grasping at your breasts, and finally one of them took a purchase wrapped around the base of your neck. He wasn’t applying much pressure; he was just holding it there.

Your walls flutter around his cock and hw tightens his grip around your neck at the feeling. He can tell you’re about to cum and when you do, he has to hold you down with his other hand. The lack of air triggers your survival responses and heightened senses, making you feel everything tenfold. The burn against your throat hurts, but the pain mixes with the pleasure to give you a beautiful ending. You can tell by the sticky warmth that fills you and the groan that follows that Jeno wasn't far behind at all. He rolls off of you and plops down on the space beside you to catch his breath. You pull yourself up and start to get out of bed before he grabs your arm.

“Where are you going?” He asks as hurt crosses his features.

“I need the bathroom,” you explain, sleepy “This is my house anyway; you thought I was going to leave?” You joke with a laugh

Jeno visibly relaxes for a second before he too gets out of bed. He makes his way over to you and helps you to the bathroom. You go to the bathroom, and he runs a bath, and you realize how much more domestic your relationship has become in the last few weeks, to the point where it feels natural.

He helps you into the bath and slips in behind. You two talk more in the bath as he pampers you. You have never felt more at home than when you were wrapped in Jeno’s arms. When you get out, he lays you back on the bed before cuddling up beside you. You study his face, and for the first time in awhile, you take a good, long look. If you looked close enough, you could still see traces of the boy you knew all those years ago under the man that stared back at you. For some reason, that made everything hurt. You knew Jeno would do anything to protect you, but who would protect him? With Jaemin gone, all he had was you. You shut your eyes at the thought.

You don't know what your thinking; you just knew you had to be strong and that you were going to put an end to this tonight. You didn’t have his number anymore, but you always knew where to find him. 

It was getting late, and instead of heading to the gym for your weekly training with Jeno, you were on the other side of town. You hug your jacket tighter to your chest, bracing yourself against the cold winds of the night. When you turn a corner, the flashing neon lights almost blind you.

찬스노래방

Chance Karoake

You open the door to the front of the building and make your way in. You put on your brave face before trekking over to the back of the shady building. Room 0824 was your destination. 

This was the building Yuta ran most of his deals out of. Karaoke rooms are a known hotspot for drug deals and other illegal trades. It was rare to see Yuta here now due to the fact that he had to keep his image clean but you knew his schedule and you knew when he would pop in. Dont get him wrong; yuta wasnt some big-shot crime boss, he was just some kid who dealt in shady business. 

You knock on the door and wait. When the door swings open, a cloud of smoke hits you in the face. The room stinks of weed and disposables, the smoke burning your eyes as you try to focus on the figure in front of you. 

Cheshire grin meets an apprehensive frown as you stand face-to-face with Yuta.

“Welcome home, doll”

You feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins at the man standing in front of you, the source of so much trouble in your life. The atmosphere is tense, filled with the lingering smell of drugs and the weight of unspoken threats. You knew this was your chance to finally confront him and put an end to this dangerous game you've been forced to play. With a steely glance, you lock eyes with Yuta and prepare yourself for the confrontation that will determine the course of your future.

“Don't call me that” You push past him and enter the room. There is plenty of sitting room on the couch, but you’re too anxious, so you decide to stand. A few of his friends occupy the room, and he doesn't have to tell them twice to leave the two of you alone.

Even after all this time and all your history together, you cannot bring yourself to look him in the eyes. Jeno was right; he terrified you. You could pretend to be brave all you wanted, but the truth was, you were just a scared little girl inside. 

“Don't push me, doll,” he warns before wrapping slender fingers around your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Where's your little boyfriend? Not here to save you?” he taunts

“I want you to leave him alone,” you grit out. You had to be brave.

“You think you can just walk in here and give me orders? You forget who you belong to?” He shakes your face in his grasp.

You rip his hand from your face and twist. No, you would not let him control you any longer. This had all gone too far. Despite feeling intimidated, you refuse to submit to his control any longer.

All you could think about was Jeno; you couldn't let him get hurt anymore because of you. You loved him more than you feared Yuta. You refuse to let him own you.

With the grasp that you have on his arm, you twist his wrist farther until hes crippling down onto his knees. As he winced in agony, you could see the fear etched on his face. With a steely resolve, you pressed harder. His cries echoed in the empty room as you held him in place, making sure he felt every ounce of pain he had caused. Your grip tightened, a silent promise that this would be the last time he hurt anyone.

“If you want to continue playing and keep your scholarship, I suggest you leave me the hell alone. Next time you harass me, I'll break it,” you spit.

With a final, warning glare, you released your grip on his wrist. His body crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath as he clutched his throbbing wrist. You had made it clear that harassment would not be tolerated, and the threat of losing his scholarship hung heavy in the air. 

The weight that had been dragging you down for so long began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of confidence and self-worth. With your head held high, you strode forward. Although you know for certain that Jeno would kill you if he ever found out, you think deep down he would be proud; after all, he created this monster.

When you get home, Ryujin’s on your ass for being out so late. When she had called Jeno and he hadn't seen you either, she thought the worst had happened. You check your phone and find 10 missed calls and even more frantic text messages from Jeno. 

You apologize for causing worry to Ryujin and explain that you lost track of time while out. You decide to quickly call Jeno back to assure him your okay. 

You wait as the phone rings, but there is no answer. You call again, and he still doesn't pick up. Something didn't feel right, and you grabbed your keys, rushing out of the house.

“You just got here; where are you going?” a stern Ryujin calls.

“Gotta find Jeno!” you call back before hopping back into your car.

For as long as you’ve known him, you knew Jeno could be a hothead sometimes. You knew the moment he heard you were missing, he went out himself to go looking for you. You drove to his house to find him. When you pull into his driveway, it's empty. You park and rush up the stairs to his apartment. You bang on the door until someone answers. You almost sigh in relief until you realize its not Jeno. The person on the other side of the door looked clearly aggravated. His black hair was messily strewn on his head, and his shirt hung off his frame like he just threw it on. 

“Can I help you? A raspy voice calls

“Uh, im looking for Jeno,” you ask the man

“He left like an hour ago,” he yawns lazily, leaning against the door frame like he could barely stay awake. “Its almost one in the morning. Whats going on?” 

“Its nothing; can you call me if he shows back up” you ask frantically.  If Jeno had left an hour ago, who knows where he could be now? You give him your number, and he tells you his name is Mark. You thank him and rush back to your car. Your about to pull out when your phone lights up. Jeno was calling you back.

“Hello? Jeno where have you been?” You feel a weight lift off your shoulder as you take your keys out of the ignition and slump back into your seat. 

“”I found Yuta”

“Jeno…What did you do to him?”

“I beat his ass,” he says, “and then I made him tell me where you were”

“Jen—”

“Why did you think it was a good idea to go and threaten him on your own?”

“I had too. I had to do it for me”

“Where are you”

���At your apartment”

“Stay there”

You get out of your car and lean up against the hood, and you wait to see his car roll down the street. 

You breathe in the cold, crisp night air and let it soothe your nerves. You did not want to argue with Jeno, not right now. Headlights blind you as a car pulls up behind yours. You hear the engine cut off and the car door slam. As Jeno quickly approaches, you prepare yourself for the confrontation. The tension hangs heavy between you, but you take a deep breath and gather your thoughts before engaging in what could be a difficult conversation. 

"Jeno, can we talk about this—” You're left speechless as his lips meet yours in an unexpected kiss.

Confusion and conflicting emotions swirl within you as you reluctantly allow yourself to be swept up in the moment, momentarily forgetting all of your worries.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours “Don't scare me like that” His hands caress your face like he can't believe your standing in front of him, like he's making sure he's not dreaming. His frame is shaking, and you’re not sure if it was the cool night air or the light rain that chose this moment to fall, making him shiver.

He pulls you in for a tight hug, and your heart twists, your throat closes up, and you cry. You cry because you never want him to pull away; you cry because you realize how much he loves you; and you cry because you’re both safe.

“Im sorry Jen i didnt mean to—”

“No excuses,” he says, shaking his head “promise”

You hug him back tight and bury your head in his shoulder. “I promise I wont do anything like that again” 

He pulls away from you and you notice hes soaked to his bones. The rain had picked up and was now pouring down over you two; you could only imagine your clothes were in the same state. You laugh and push his wet hair out of his face.

“Mark is going to kill us if we soak the carpet.”

“I think he's already upset; I woke him up earlier. Come on, lets get you out of the rain”

He leads you inside by the hand, and you kick off your wet shoes and socks. You try your best to make your way to the bathroom to change. Jeno brings you some dry clothes, and he closes the door and changes alongside you into something more warm.

You follow him to his room with light steps, afraid of waking Mark up for a second time. You lay down next to Jeno in his bed, and you tangle your feet with his seeking warmth.

“I feel like my heart starts beating again when our hands hold each other,” he whispers

“Back then, when we drifted apart, every day felt like I was drowning. Now because you are here, I'm breathing,” you confess

He hugs you tighter and kisses the top of your head “im not going anywhere”

And you believe him, because somehow you had always known he was your guardian angel. You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the reassurance in his words. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges may come, you both can face them together. With his arms around you and his promise to stay by your side, you finally feel at peace, knowing that you have found your way back to each other.

[talkingattumble]

Hi guys! Here’s some advice from a cane user on how to spot a fake cane user/disability faker!

YOU CANT

You can not spot a “fake disabled” cane user. You can not know if someone’s “really disabled”, much less by just looking at them. Here are some common misconceptions.

“Cane users always need their canes. If they walk without it or put it away when it’s inconvenient, they’re faking”: WRONG! Many cane users are what we call “ambulatory” cane users. This means they don’t always need their canes to walk. I’m an ambulatory cane user, and I experience really horrible leg pain on the daily. However, I don’t always use my cane, and when I don’t need to walk or stand a lot in a certain place I don’t use it. And when I do use it, I may lift it off the ground or carry it in places that are sandy, gravelly, or otherwise hinder my cane.

“Cane users walk abnormally without their canes, someone who walks normally without their cane is faking”: WRONG! Many ambulatory cane users can walk in a way that seems “normal”. This doesn’t mean they’re not in pain, or not “really disabled”. This just means that their condition doesn’t cause a noticeable difference in walking, and likely manifests in a different way.

“Cane users always need their cane, someone who doesn’t use their cane at home is faking”: WRONG! Cane users may not use their canes at home, because at home they may be able to do things like sit down wherever and whenever, regain more spoons, and use other mobility aids. Additionally, some ambulatory cane users only need or use their canes when they are doing something physically taxing, like going on a hike or standing in a long line.

“My cane user friend told me this person looks like they’re faking, so it must be true”: WRONG! Being a cane user doesn’t immediately make you an expert on all different conditions and experiences. Your friend does not know the random cane user walking down the street, they are going off looks and stereotypes. Disabled people are not immune to being ableist.

“They enjoy their cane too much/they’re too happy/they decorate their cane, so they can’t actually be in enough pain to need a cane” WRONG! We’re people like everyone else, and we experience positive emotions too, even if we go through a lot of pain. To me, customizing my cane is like getting a tattoo or putting streaks in my hair, it’s a way of self expression. And we deserve to be able to talk openly about our full experience, which include the parts we’re neutral or happy about.

“They’re one of those cringey teenagers who name themselves arson and like dsmp, so they’re probably faking” WRONG! Do I even have to explain why saying someone isn’t disabled because of their name and interests is messed up and also stupid? Or did you already know that and just wanted to make fun of a disabled teenager?

“They’re too young to be using a cane, so they must be faking” WRONG! there are lots of disabilities or injuries that can cause young people to need a mobility aid. For example, I use a cane for my fibromyalgia.

“They only use it in private places, and never in places where people recognize them, so they must be faking” WRONG! In a world where anyone can just randomly take out their phone, take a picture of a cane user, and post them online to be made fun of, it can be stressful to use a cane in public areas. Also, they may not want people to ask questions, or they may feel embarrassed about it.

“I saw them switch hands, so they must be faking” WRONG! There are different reasons a cane used might do this, but I’m going to use my experience as an example. My fibromyalgia is not consistent. Sometimes one leg hurts more then the other. But as I said, fibromyalgia is inconsistent, and sometimes my other leg will start to hurt more or need more support, which is when I switch hands. And when both my legs hurt equally, I may switch my hand if it’s getting too sore.

“They told me they feel like they’re faking when they use their cane, doesn’t that mean they don’t really need it?” WRONG! Imposter syndrome is strong in a lot of disabled people, especially when for a lot of our lives we were told by doctors that we were fine and just being dramatic. Anxiety is also comorbid with a lot of physically disabilities, which only strengthens this. To add to this, something that I’ve felt and seen other disabled people talk about it, when their disability aid lessens the pain, they start thinking “well I’m not in that much pain so I don’t really need it” even though the reason they’re not in that much pain is because of the aid. I know it seems dumb, but imposter syndrome can be that strong and affects disabled people a lot.

“They don’t have a diagnosis, so they must be faking” WRONG! First of all, diagnoses are expensive. On their own they’re often already expensive, but counting the tons of tests you have to take to confirm the diagnosis? Absolutely ludicrous. Some may also choose not to get a diagnosis, so that they don’t have to deal with the prejudice and setbacks of being diagnosed. Also, some people use a cane for injuries, and for stress or fatigue related pains.

These are only a few of the things I commonly hear from fakeclaimers, and I wanted to just put out a reminder that fakeclaiming hurts the disabled community much, much more than it does ableists. Next time you see someone with a cane switch hands, or someone with a wheelchair stand up, or someone with crutches put them down, before you immediately call them out to a friend, take a picture, or write a post: does your fakeclaim rely on stereotypes? Are your reasons things that apply to ambulatory aid users?

If so, just stop. Be mindful. Please.

[angelplummie]

here for revenge.

being lily's best friend - you grow up with her - you're in the donaldsons orbit for all your formative years. you develop a crush on art that turns into love as you grow older. your home life isn't so glamorous. you spend lots of weekends at the donaldsons. art has tucked you in. brought you snacks when you stayed up late for movie nights, making you and lily promise not to tell tashi. you were there when art and tashi got divored, held lilys hand and pretended not to be happy inside at the thought of getting closer to art.

lily gets into college - a big smart one because she has tashi's ambition and leaves you behind, you're still stuck at home because your dreams have always been smaller.

maybe its not appropriate, to still spend time with art. but he's lonely. tashi left, and now his daughter has and you're the only one left in his life that actually wants to be around him, that has always looked at him with stars in your eyes. its probably not healthy. there should be a boundary there. your lilies, not his.

but you like being around him and he likes having someone to take care of. you come over and he makes you eat something healthy and you needle him about spending all his time at home and how he should get out more, and he rolls his eyes, tells you he should be saying the same to you, you're young and beautiful and you should be dating around.

but how can you date around when art donaldson is your dream man? when you're happiest at his side, eating what he makes you. you want more though. you want to share his bed, warm it for him, you want to make him not so lonely, you want him to stop seeing you as a little girl and as the adult you've grown up to be - so you start wearing less and less around him. start acting more and more like a housewife.

art accepts it without even realizing. now you just need to find the right opportunity to pounce.

WHEW. this one is long so buckle up

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

you roll your eyes.

“mr donaldson, how come you never started dating again?”

he chopped the lemon with a deft clunk, eyes never leaving the knife.

“never felt the urge.”

“what does that mean?”

“what i just said. never felt the need to.”

“hm.”

you sat on the island, next to the chopping board. your legs swung haphazardly, and you watched art as he chopped.

why was he playing this game? he could’ve told you to leave, to stop coming back and bothering him, that this was inappropriate. and yet. he didn’t even tell you to get your sorry butt off the counter, or some such dad-ism. the low glow of the many warm lamps that adorned such a luxurious house illuminated art so softly, he looked as young as the day lily was born. he was as fit as back then, if not meatier. he didn’t have the pouch your dad had, but the years had given him a thickness. instead of wasting away like most lean men did, he struggled to the other side. he got broader. layer upon layer of muscle encased in a thin finishing of fat. he was skinnier when you were a kid, but he had no reason to be lean now. under his chin a tiny hammock of pudge rested as his head tilted down, kissed by light stubble. his blonde hair was streaked in silver, but that somehow made him younger looking. made him glow. he had grown it out, by your suggestion. he was everything in the world a man should be.

“what about you?”

“i hate boys. they’re all stupid.”

“you got that right. you’re too good for all of them, never settle.”

“maybe it’s just boys my own age. theyre so immature.”

arts wide chest heaves. his eyes flick to you then flick back down. you see it all, and cross one leg over the other.

“maybe.”

“what were you like when you were my age?”

he laughs at the memory.

“stupid, immature, evil. if i was anything to go by you should swear off men entirely until menopause.”

air left your chest cavity.

“i don’t wanna wait. i want a fully formed one.”

you watched the muscles in arts forearms flex as he squeezed the lemon onto salad. the main course was cooking, was singing loudly on the stove. art had gotten into cooking after the divorce. it took all his attention and put it in one place, something complex and delicate and time consuming. it helped to clear his head. it wasn’t helping right this second.

“i shouldn’t say that,” he said curtly,”boys your age aren’t so bad. give them a go and quit hanging out with an old man.”

“but i like you, old man.”

art was so harsh on himself. he really wasn’t that old. and you really weren’t that young.

he pressed his lips together and kept squeezing. his pink lips, that gave his face the everlasting youth it held. he shrugged his shoulders in that way he did when he was confronted with the truth of your arrangement. there was something going on. something very, very, very wrong. you were the same age as his daughter. 3 months younger. he was the worst man in the world. the worst person to ever breathe. what could he do though? tell you to go? tell you to leave his house and never come back? what would become of you then? without him, what pillar of paternity would you rely upon? what new low would you reach? what men would you come across, and what would you do to please them? while he gingerly entertained you, you dangled something in front of his face that others would not have the restraint or morality to resist. if you had to move to another target, your next victim might not care so deeply for your wellbeing. were you not altogether safer, sitting in his kitchen, eating his caesar salad, rather than inhaling second hand cigarettes from old wrinkled fucks who might murder you, or worse-

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

“you got a bunch of lemon pips in the salad.”

“oh.”

he set down the lemon.

“are you ok? you seem tense.”

“i’m good. are you cold? i can turn on the heating if you like.”

“no. it’s actually quite warm in here.”

he hears the zip of your hoodie and starts away from the island, under the pretence of getting a paper towel to deposit the lemon seeds on. your jumper clatters to the counter, and you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. low cut top. he knows that’s what you’re wearing. because that’s all it’s been for the past 2 months. your mini skirt flowers around you as you sit, but when you stand each swish and sway of the fabric is a death sentence. god forbid you take the stairs for some ungodly reason.

“hey, you know what you said about never having the urge?”

oh, fuck off, he thought. fuck off. leave him be. leave him alone. release him.

“yes.”

“you can’t really mean that can you?”

“sure i can.”

“i mean, you can. but i don’t think you do.”

you twirled a strand of hair in between your fingers. your stomach grumbled, loud enough that he could hear. you were so hungry you could die, but if you ate what art was frying your breath would smell like fish all night.

“let me check the salmon.”

“i’m not that hungry. you can’t mean that you never had the urge to. everyone has urges.”

“well sure. but after tashi, i needed a breather. a grace period, if you will. you can’t go from marriage with a woman like her right into dating.”

“but it’s been 3 years. you must be over it by now?”

he ignored the hope in your voice. ignore, ignore, ignore.

“i am over it. but. women scare me.”

he walked languidly over the salmon. it was ready.

“i don’t scare you, i’m a woman.”

a woman. he turned off the stove, and turned to fix you with a stare for the first time tonight. a woman. that was not the word he would use to describe you. your eyes were the size of saucers, and you bat your lashes languidly, like you knew how much you were making him suffer. you sat up pin straight, and twisted your spine to make eye contact with him. your body. he tried not to look. tried not to look in front of you and see the twisted grin come across your lips. but he was a weak man. the weakest of men, and his eyes dragged over where a fatherly view should never cross. your perky new tits, the press and curve of your ass against the counter, the plush of your thighs. it seemed you had grown up overnight, and didn’t know you were still a baby. you’re a baby. you knew what you were doing to him. you knew. he blushed involuntarily.

“you scare me most of all.”

his voice trembled. he hadn’t meant to say that. hadn’t meant to dignify you will any response at all. it had crossed his mind and then it crossed his lips.

your eyes lit up with extreme delight. he liked to make you happy, but his stomach churned with the thought of why.

“why?”

he turned back around, and plated up your salmon, adding potatos and asparagus from the same pan, drizzling it all in the residual oil.

“why art?”

“mr donaldson.”

a twinge of irritation tickles your stomach. what was he fighting this for? you’re all grown up now. you both knew what was going to happen. he was resisting fate, the inevitable.

all your life you had known he was the man you were meant to be with. from that first time he kissed your forehead as you dozed off on the couch, thinking you were asleep. when his strong arms would carry both you and his daughter, flinging you around, threatening to dunk you in their backyard pool. when he would catch your eye in the rear view mirror as he drove you around and winked. he was so nice. so nice and brave and kind and warm, and if you had to be with any man it should be him because you’ve loved him since you were 8, and now you’re old enough to claim it. you’re not just a dumb kid with a crush. you love him. you understand it being one sided back then. but it isn’t anymore, and you wouldn’t let him deny it. with gliding footsteps you approached him, drawing closer every second he didn’t turn around. a hand rests on his shoulder blade.

“just stop,” you breathed after a pause.

his spatula clattered to the pan with a metallic thunk. you pull your hand away like he burnt you. he gripped the counter with a sigh and hung his head.

“you stop. stop it now,” his voice was stern. you felt yourself shrink. art was never stern.

“i know what you’re thinking, and it’s not going to happen. this has gone on far too long and it stops right now.”

a mere few paces from his wide curved back, you blink. the urge to touch him is overwhelming. you want to press your hand to his back, feel him under your palm and tell him you know he wants this. you know he wants this just as bad as you do.

but you don’t, because he’s angry at you, and he’s never been angry at you before.

“i’ve let you come here and cooked you food and watched movies with you because you’re a good kid. because i knew you as a kid and i know your problems with your father and i wanted to be there for you when lily is away. but you have taken this too far. you’re my daughters best friend. i have cleaned up your vomit twice, i baked you a cake for your 13th birthday- it’s not right. i’ve tried to be understanding, i’ve tried to ignore it, but you never drop it. never. your lack of self respect is staggering. you have to drop it right now or, im sorry but you can’t come back here anymore.”

every muscle fibre was clenched. if the counter top wasn’t marble it would’ve crunch and fell away under his grip. he couldn’t take it anymore. he didn’t know how much longer he could be good. didn’t know how much longer he could take resisting you.

maybe he was harsh. but it was the right thing to do. the only thing to do. he rested his elbow on the counter, and between his forefinger and his thumb held the bridge of his nose. he exhaled loudly. he hadn’t meant for it to come out that way, hadn’t planned it. but now it was out. he had stared the elephant in the room dead in its eyes. he felt lighter, somewhat liberated.

until he turned around after a few too many seconds of silence to see you turned away from him, slightly hunched over. he stepped closer, and saw your hands covering your mouth. you body jolted, and you drew in quick, grasping breaths. you were crying. he said your name, and you didn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry mr donaldson.”

all the relief he felt was replaced by swift, acute, crushing guilt. your hair fell over your face, shielding you from him. he said your name once more. you sniffed.

“hey, hey hey hey.”

against his better judgement, and because of the aching of his heart, he took you gently by the shoulders, and turned you to face him.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

tears spill from your eyes and you wipe them away with a heavy hand, refusing to meet his eyes. his neck craned down to your eye level, his thumbs began tracing circle in your shoulders. a thoughtless gesture but one that made you cry even harder.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what i was thinking. im just so sorry.”

“hey, it’s ok. it’s alright.”

“it’s not alright. i’ve ruined everything. i’ve made it- so- weird. i just thought that you- you wanted me. i’m so stupid.”

your mascara runs, painting your face with your turmoil.

how could you be so dense? you had been making him uncomfortable. he didn’t want you. the only reason he even let you hang around was obligation. because of what you meant to lily. you didn’t mean anything to him. you were just some kid. did he even think you’re pretty? you bet he didn’t.

worse than that, you had disappointed him. him. he was supposed to be everything your dad wasn’t. and now he was disappointed. you had failed. you had ruined everything. what even were you? were you even human?

“don’t. you’re not stupid. don’t say that.”

“i’m sorry. i just- i wanted to make you happy. that’s all i ever wanted. i wanted you to be happy with me. you were so- so- so crushed after the divorce, i-i just-“

he guides you over to the bar stool, and you let him. you sit across from each other. his hand touches your cheek, the other holds you shoulder still. the touch of his hand quietens your babbling, your eyes round and wet and open.

“you do make me happy.”

your lips parted, plump with crying.

“i do?”

he cringes at the hope in your voice, at the feeling in his chest that it stirs. the feeling in his whole body at touching, after so many years, your soft skin. the last time he held your face you were 8, crying over a bumped knee. he had very different feelings now than he did then. sympathy and concern had ebbed, making way for much darker, much more corrosive emotions. he felt guilt and want broil in the chambers of his stomach, and the evilness inside him told him how easy to would be to get what he wanted. how close he was.

“yes. you’re my favourite buddy, we have a great time together,” he ruffled your shoulder like you pat a dog, speaking quick to placate you.

the hope in your eyes dwindled.

“so,” you sniffled, “you don’t feel anything for me? you don’t-don’t want me at all?”

with your convulsive sobbing your chest rose and fell, and with each jolt you spilled further out of your thread bare top. he closed his eyes, and swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. inhaling deeply, his fingers released your shoulder.

“it doesn’t matter what i want.”

“yes it does, it matters the most,” you answer immediately, tears gone from your eyes, now sliding down from your water line and down your cheek, “what do you want?”

what does art want? when was the last time he asked himself that question? years. at least. he drew away from you. you felt sick.

he turned on the stool, ducking his head and cradling his face in his hands

“i want…”

what the fuck was he saying? he couldn’t say this to you. he couldn’t. but he was.

“i… you’re a very gorgeous girl. you’re sweet. you’re smart. you’re funny. i like you very much.”

he said it like he was confessing to murder. elbow resting on his knee, his hand covered his eyes with splayed fingers. god, he was going to hell for this. even saying the words felt like the deepest sin imaginable, and he was sanitising his truth extensively. what he thought about at night, when you went home and his house became cold again, when he got into the shower and mechanically relieved himself into the drain, that was truly deplorable. when he touched himself, it was you he thought of. invariably. everything a man could possibly do to a girl, everything a girl could possibly do to a man, he had laid up in his bed and touched himself to with you in mind. ropes and ropes and ropes of cum in your honour, so gently splattered on shower walls and bedsheets he needed to wash anyway. sometimes he came on his torso, just to feel young and frivolous, like you were. and when he did his brain would turn back on, and he would feel so guilty that he would lay there to soak up his guilt, a punishment for himself from himself. so yes. he wanted you. he wanted you very, very badly. with every fibre of his being, he craved you. and with every fibre of his soul, he hated himself for it. but apparently he was still talking. what his morality urged him his mouth couldn’t hear, or wouldn’t obey.

“so don’t think you’re delusional. you had every reason to think i might reciprocate.”

you watched him, glossy eyes wide as ever. he peeked from beneath his fingers, immediately covering his eyes again when he saw you watch him. he shouldn’t have said that. he shouldn’t have. that was bad, it’s only giving you hope, and there is no hope. he can’t, he can’t. he want to so badly but he can’t. god, no he can’t. it would be so easy but easy isn’t right and how could he ever look his daughter in the eyes again if he did? how could he look at tashi?

“mr donaldson?”

“mm,” he replied miserably.

“kiss me.”

slowly, exhausted, he lifted up his head. mistake. now he was thinking about it as he looked at your face, puffy and damp and shining like a star.

why did he look so disgusted? what was so wrong with you? you couldn’t stop yourself from barreling ahead, feeling his premature rejection like a rock in your stomach.

“just once. then i’ll leave and i’ll never bother you and you won’t see me anymore and i’ll go to church and ill get a therapist, but just once.”

he looks so tired. so tired and so fucking good. his eyes smouldered with deep thought, the thought only a mature man can have. he was so mature. he was so much larger than you. he could hurt you if he wanted to. he could make you do anything but all he did was look at you so tired it made you squirm inside. as your sobs died in your throat, regret and embarrassment become indistinguishable from desire.

he blinked slowly, and opened his mouth. the white of his teeth glittered. his tongue pawed the inside of his cheek. he was thinking about it.

how could he be thinking about it? he was the worst person in the world. and yet. and yet. one kiss. he could control it with one kiss. one kiss wouldn’t hurt. one kiss. he had kissed your head before. your cheek. what was so different about this?

wordlessly, he moved off the stool. heart in your mouth you waited. a tremulous breath shuddered from your chest as he took one step. two steps. three steps. until he was stood above you. his face was unreadable. not cold. not warm. just looking, appraising from above his brown lower lashes, down his strong kissable nose.

“one kiss?”

his hand rose slowly, palm facing upwards. his finger tips grazed your jaw, your chin, tilting your head up. fireworks burst in your stomach, and you resisted the urge to moan.

“one. that’s all.”

one. that would be all. one kiss and he would put this silly fascination away for good. a kiss is deniable. a kiss is nothing.

he stoops down, can feel the nerves vibrating from your skin. his head tilts slightly, and your eyes lock as he descends to your level. his hand moves into your hair, a combing hold. and you kiss. no tongue. your lips connect, mush and expand over the others. his nose touched your cheek. your arms remained stiff by your side as they gripped the stool. you felt the pinkness of his lips, felt the edge of his cupids bow. and then he pulled away.

there. one kiss. he had done what he had to to get you to drop it. had fulfilled your criteria, and now you could move on. now he could move on.

but if that was true, why was he leaning in again? why did almost tasting your saliva, a substance he had thought about in great detail, make him hungrier for it? why was almost having it worse than never coming close? why did he pull gently on your hair, making your head tip back, opening you mouth so he could kiss the part of you he craved; the inside part? why was he hard if it was over?

his tongue flicked gently inside, asking permission. your mouths closed together, making the kiss noise you hate hearing but love making. they open quickly and in sequence. your hands rise up to gently hover over his chest, barely grazing his shirt. you didn’t want to touch him too hard in case he dissipated into a cloud of smoke, an illusion.

but he was very real, and under your timid girlish touch he was undone. a soft exhalation like a groan into your mouth, and his tongue protruded. it touched yours and you tasted the salt on it, shivering. his other hand fell back to your shoulder, gripping so hard it was like had no idea what he was doing. feeling your mouth against his was all that there was. there wasn’t right, there wasn’t wrong, there was only sensation.

all the want he had saved for solitary and depressing masturbation now burst through his veins, into his actions and he kissed you with all the passion in him. with everything he’s never said, with all the times he held back with you, with tashi. he kissed you like if he didn’t he would die, breathing and groaning and grunting involuntarily. he mashed his face to yours, crushing your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before recapturing your mouth in a sloppy open mouthed kiss. it felt like steam evaporated from where your met, so hot and wet.

you didn’t know what was your and what was art, where you finished and art began. you meshed like the broken pieces of a vase slotted against each other. his tongue became so wild it clipped the side of your mouth in its frantic exploration, and you sighed.

ultimately it was you who had to pull away. you pulled your hands into your own chest, gasping for breath. he didn’t move an inch. he gripped your shoulder still, cradled your face the same. he opened his eyes, chest rising and falling graciously.

he surveyed you, still too high from your touch to feel guilt, with lazy eyes. he was so fucked. your eyes sparkled like glitter. your lips shined pearly with his spit. his.

“art?”

“yes?”

“it’s not just one kiss is it?”

despite himself, despite everything, he smiled.

“no. i don’t think it is.”

[celuere]

I want you all over me.

pairing: feixiao x fem!reader

context: feixiao having never experienced a single mating cycle in her life was always something she has been relatively relieved about. That is until she met you

cw: feixiao has a dick here because I said so, breeding, mating press, feral feixiao, HSR didn‘t have any lore on how Foxians reproduce so I had to get creative, story takes place after she wiped the floor with Hoolay, biting 

First work on my iPad with the new bluetooth keyboard I ordered, truly a life changer. Not even my fever will stop me from writing Yuri. and also huge thanks to Ray for helping me with the gradient, not all heroes wear capes. Some of them are axolotls!

NSFW utc, MDNI!

Have you ever wondered if Foxians can enter a heat? Well, they do. Just not the way you think. There are a lot of factors that play an important role in a Foxians heat cycle.

For once their relationship status is a strong factor. Are they single, taken or even married? Are they happy in said marriage? Do they want to reproduce with their partner?

Then there is their age. A first Foxians heat cycle is usually triggered in the late 20s, some may experience it earlier, some later. There are even recordings of certain individuals not experiencing a single mating process in their entire lifespan, simply because they didn’t want to, have never found the right person and variety of other reasons. A Foxians urge to reproduce along with the frequencies of their cycles may decrease with age.

Now, once having lived through a mating cycle you are considered „Mature“. No, it doesn’t refer to your mental capabilities, it‘s simply the medical term for Foxians that can reproduce. Because until you didn’t live through at least one of these unbearable cycles, your ability to reproduce is -so the doctors call it- sleeping.

In the young days of the Xianzhou, where arranged marriages were still a thing, a certain medicine was to be used if one or both parties weren’t already mature to trigger their first heat, so they may produce an heir. That was until said medication was banned for good.

Once mature you only develop a steady, balanced heat cycle that may only occur when you’re in a happy, fulfilled relationship. A few may live through it two times a year, others every two months or even just once every year.

And during the actual thing? Unless not separated from their s/o, Foxians become extremely grumpy and frustrated, it‘s better to not bother them during this time. Just avoid them all together. They reach their breaking point once they’re reunited with their partner again. Be sure you won‘t be leaving the house or rather the bedroom for the next two or three days.

Feixiao usually was never bothered by the fact that she didn’t mature yet, never once was it a problem for her. Quite the opposite. Seeing how her Foxian friends and coworkers seemed to disappear off the face of society for a good few days actually relieved her. It meant no interruptions in her training schedule and left no room for distractions.

That was until you came along.

At first the general didn’t think much of it when you first started dating. She‘d touch herself to the memory of you, how good you‘d took her cock into your wet pussy last week, moaning and clawing into her trained shoulders as you begged for her to go faster. To fuck you harder.

She first didn’t think about how annoyed she got over the week because of the smallest thing, recruits being stupid, Jiaqou annoying her, she even gave Moze a whole earful when he tried his luck on her again. Only feeling better during the mornings and evenings she‘d spent with you in her arms. 

It reached a certain point on a Friday Night. Jingyuan sent her home after she almost lost her shit at Hana because of a simple misunderstanding from her side.

„Come back once you’ve calmed down.“, he said. 

The funny thing? Nobody was angry with her. Not Jingyuan. Not Jiaqou. Not Moze. Not Hana. Nobody. Everybody already knew what was going on with the Merlin‘s Claw. Except for the poor woman herself.

Or you.

Once Feixiao opened the door to your shared home and inhaled your scent, it‘s as good as over for the both of you. 

Poor you was just dusting off the shelves in the living room when your girlfriend practically threw herself right at you, hands clawing your shirt and pants right off of your body. Even your underwear covered too much for her liking. 

Her body felt too hot. The general had the impression she‘d burn to ashes from the inside out if she didn’t bury her already throbbing cock inside your cunt within the next moments.

„F-Fei, what- Hah!“, a bite mark on your most sensitive part on your neck never sounded better to her. 

She needed you carnally. Fucking wasn’t enough. She needed to breed you throughly until neither couldn’t think straight anymore. Until all that’s left inside of your spent pussy is her cum. 

„Quiet, darling.“, leaving your neck with a mark that will surely take on a pretty purple color during the next few days. Goodness, she might as well died without the tightness of your cunt.

In between the fog of clothes flying to the floor, sloppy kisses and Feixiao‘s growling right into your ear, you didn’t even notice when exactly she shoved her length into you. Suddenly she was all over you, inside you, digging her claws into your skin so she could drag you on and off her cock in a faster manner, soon forming creamy ring around her base that drove her close to madness. 

She wanted nothing more right now than for you to carry out her babies, the sheer thought only fuel to the fire that’s seemingly devouring her from the inside.

She didn’t try to angle her hips to hit your weak spot better, she didn’t care how you’re supposed to cover up the bite marks on your neck and shoulders, not even your beautiful tits were spared of her teeth.

„Fckin‘ take my cock into that pussy… g-get it all i-in there…“, she‘d mutter as she watches you melt over her for another time, your mixed juices oozing out on the sides whenever she‘d fuck back into you. That sofa will probably have to be replaced when she is done with you.

When your legs were pressed up against your chest that was probably the moment your soul disconnected from your body. Her using you more or less as a personal fleshlight was more than you could ever handle, even when she fucked her third load into your cunt, you just hoped she would keep on fucking out her heat with you.

If every cycle felt like this for her, Feixiao could only pray to Lan to be blessed by this amazing occurrence once every month. The warming sensation of your pussy tightening around her dick every so often, those pretty moans spilling out of your mouth with each time she rolled her hips against yours, only adding to the already torturous pressure against your cervix. She could go on like this for days. 

There was one time where she accidentally slipped out when pulling back, never in her life did something piss her more off than seeing her dick outside your cum-filled pussy. Her hands immediately went back around your hips and then she pushed herself back in. With one, smooth thrust you welcomed her back inside your warmth, that absolute guttural moan the both of you let out was surely to be heard outside by any random passerby.

But don’t think she will be done with you after a day. She‘ll make sure you fall asleep with your pussy warming her dick and she‘ll make sure you also get to wake up with it, only so she can mess you up all over again.

Maybe being mature isn’t so bad after all.

[phant0mth1ef]

i kissed the scars on her skin, i still think you’re beautiful.

-

can be read as part 3 to this boy’s too young to be singing the blues, or as a standalone :3!

-

empty. your hospital room was empty. void of all life. the sheets were as if nobody had slept there in years, the window shades were put back to their normal, idle position, and all the decorations that class a had put up for you were now gone.

but he was still directed to the room where you were supposed to reside. he stood at the doorway, his jaw open as he stared inside, trying to look for any signs of life. because why else would they send him here if you weren’t there? you were still alive. right?

he was worried, to say the least, until he heard quiet muffled sounds coming from behind him, you were standing, your iv was right next to you as you looked up at the boy with half-lidded eyes.

“hi katsuki.” you yawned.

“you spent all that time asleep and you’re still tired?!” there was the snarkiness and attitude you knew and loved.

“exhausted really. come in.” you motioned for the boy to follow you as you made your way to your bed, sitting down and patting the space next to you.

“why’s it look like a grey’s anatomy scene in here?” he was always so blunt, even if you were currently in the worst shape possible.

“didn’t wanna get too comfortable. i don’t plan on living in here any longer than i have to.” something was off. you didn’t have that stupid happy go lucky smile on your face.

“my quirk. they took my quirk.” you looked down as the tears welled in your eyes, trying to smile but it was quickly broken.

you never knew what to do with your hands, so you just played with your fingers whenever you were scared.

“that’s what you’re so upset about?! you almost died.” even when you’re feeling down he still manages to scold you.

“i know but,” you sniffled.

“i just-. i really wanted to become a hero with you katsuki.” the boy was never one for emotions, choosing to hide them rather than showcase them.

but in that moment, he slowly felt his hard exterior crumbling as he swore his heart begun to break, you had meant every word you said to him, your tears were real tears.

“tch. you’re real dense, ya know that?! you’re already a hero dumbass. you fought in that stupid war. you earned the right to be called a hero.” he looked away from you, not meeting your eyes because he refused to let you know he was crying.

until you heard him sniffle, and you pretended not to laugh even though your own eyes were filled to the brim with tears.

“you cryin’ katsuki?” a laugh had slipped out as he angrily snapped his head back to face you.

“hah?! no! it’s just stuffy in here.” it was hard to watch him pretending to be tough while he had a tear falling from his eye.

“s’okay to cry, y’know.” you leaned your head on his shoulder, and he turned at your sudden action.

then proceeded to put his head on your head, making mitsuki nearly jump at her son’s sudden actions, and yet she was quick enough to grab her camera, quickly snapping a photo.

the same photo that bakugou had looked back on after eri had successfully rewinded your body to the time when your quirk was still a part of you.

the same photo that was on display at your wedding, along with about a gazillion childhood pictures of you both, you both had been in the background of many pictures despite never knowing each other, it was as if an invisible string had tied your souls together.

and sure enough, the photo was hung in your shared home, along with another picture of you both as pro heroes, your children walking by it every day on their way to school.

[dark-konohagakure2]

Helloooo! This is my first time requesting something like this so im super nervous .. but do you think you could write something along the lines of madara niece getting married of to him and them consummating (getting freaky deaky) the wedding? Its okay if not, i love your work! ^_^

tw: incest, uncle/niece, noncon, forced marriage, age difference, misogyny, breeding, size difference, cumflation

All characters depicted are 18+

Madara doesn't care about romance in the slightest, much less marriage. He can appreciate taking a woman's body as a spoil of war, but other than that he couldn't care less about such tedious distractions such as women. But as little thought as he puts into the matter, the fact remains that Madara will need an heir soon as head of the Uchiha Clan, and there is only one suitable candidate for birthing his sons.

Madara isn't incredibly close with his niece, he doesn't hate her, but he isn't exactly a doting uncle either. Most of his memories of his niece are of her as a small and meek thing, hiding behind her father Izuna's leg and clinging to her mother's skirt, but now that she's grown older, she has become an attractive young woman, the spitting image of her late father, his precious younger brother, so Madara decides to kill two birds with one stone.

Forcing her hand in marriage is almost top easy, the girl's mother has been in disarray since her husband's death, so the woman sees her only daughter getting married as a good thing for the clan. Even if Madara is the girl's uncle, he is without a doubt the most suitable male for her out of every man in the Uchiha clan, or at least that's the point he'll hammer in.

His niece isn't terribly happy when she receives the news that she'll be getting married, what's worse is that she gets this shocking news at the very last minute, as Madara doesn't even think to tell her about their unconventional 'engagement' until the very day right before their so-called wedding, and he definitely won't be sympathetic to her hysterical woman tears.

"Enough or your shrieking, girl. I've already made my decision and it is final. If you can't even do something as simple as rearing a few children for our clan, then you don't deserve to be called an Uchiha."

The wedding isn't exactly a large one, it'd just the two of them, not even the mother is allowed to attend her own daughter's 'wedding', Madara doesn't need two crying women ruining his special day. The wedding kimono suits his adorably homely niece rather well, but Madara thinks it would suit her much better on his bed, so suffice to say that the marriage ceremony will be rather quick.

Once it's finally done, Madara will practically drag her to his chambers, his cock unbearably hard beneath his wedding robe, he never thought he'd ever be so excited about sinking his cock into a wet cunt, but his niece's tight little Uchiha pussy is just too much of a tempting forbidden fruit for him to resist sinking his teeth into. While his main goal is reproduction, Madara will also be after his own pleasure during this act of consummation.

Madara's cock is long and thick, stretching her virgin walls before he then gets it halfway inside, and when he finally rams his thick meat into her, his leaking tip will immediately and mercilessly bash into her cervix like a battering ram, it would be next to impossible for her to get thoroughly knocked up due to how deeply Madara is penetrating her fertile cunt.

Madara doesn't take any half measures, he wants her swollen with his seed, with his offspring, and he's not going to achieve that by just one measly orgasm inside of her, he's going to cum inside of her as much as possible, fucking his superior seed into her until her flat tummy becomes bloated with the sheer amount of cum that Madara has dumped into her, and even then he's not going to stop enjoying his niece-wife for quite some time.

"Stupid girl, don't pass out on me just yet, weakling. It's only been four rounds and you're already whining and leaking? Pathetic. How did I get burdened with such a weak niece..?"

Madara's opinion on sex won't change too much even after having his way with his new 'wife', but now he's able reach a conclusion; he doesn't have any need for other women and their holes now, since his niece is the only set of holes Madara can imagine himself using for the foreseeable future.

[thecharacterchronicler]

Snakebite || (Peacekeeper) Coriolanus Snow x Reader ||

Outline: Coriolanus has his eye on the new nurse of the caserne and he’d do anything to have her.

Word count: 5’593

Warnings: Peacekeeper Coryo is a warning in itself, blood, virgin/first time sex (and it’s not gentle), breeding/marking, pain, possessive behavior, rough sex, explicit smut.

Author’s note: If you’ve read my other stories, you know my way of writing peacekeeper Coryo is pretty wild. If not, please take the warnings seriously before reading this one. This is prompt # 4. (sorry I didn’t feel like writing another arranged marriage one for now but I hope this will be good enough.)

“Good to see you back on your feet !” Smiley said, as a greeting when Beanpole entered the cafeteria and joined them at their table.

“We were worried, you hit your head pretty badly on the ground when you fainted today.” Bug added.

Coriolanus watched as his comrade took place in front of him, his tray overly filled with an array of different foods. He was still pale and had a bruise on his forehead from where he had hit the ground but despite all that, he seemed happy. So happy in fact, that Coriolanus wondered if they had drugged him at the infirmary to put him in such a state.

“I’m honestly starting to wonder if you don’t do that on purpose each time we train outside, just so the new nurse gets to take care of you.”

“There’s a new nurse ?” Coriolanus inquired, his curiosity piqued by something finally remotely interesting.

“I think she’s an apprentice.” Beanpole corrected.

“Didn’t you notice the amount of guys lining up in front of the infirmary door these days ? I heard everyone talk about how beautiful that girl is.” Smiley added.

Coriolanus thought about it for a moment but couldn’t really recall noticing anything out of the ordinary. Not that he paid much attention to life in the barracks anyway. Or in District 12 in general. He missed the Capitol and his thoughts often drifted back to his old life rather than focusing on his current situation.

“She really is beautiful.” Beanpole commented, to answer Smiley, with a stupid smile on his face. He may as well have heart shaped eyes from how obvious his crush on the girl in question was.

The other soldiers at the table laughed of their friend’s amorous daze and everyone soon focused their attention back on their meal, knowing that they needed to gain some strength for what the commander had planned for them on the next day.

Smiley and Bug stood up as soon as their trays were empty, but Coriolanus lingered a moment at the table, watching Beanpole stuff his face with green beans and spinach leaves. He wondered how someone who lacked basic knowledge of table etiquette could be from the Capitol too. People there, even poor, were more refined and elegant usually. Was District 12 slowly turning him into some kind of feral animal ? What if it was happening to Coriolanus too ? What if he didn’t remember how to behave properly once he’ll be back in the Capitol ? The thought terrified him, the one thing he had promised himself was that he refused to let District 12 change him.

“Crap, I forgot to ask for painkillers.” Beanpole managed to say, despite his still full mouth.

“Didn’t you have a whole tablet of those in your trunk from the last time you hit your head against a tree ?” Coriolanus asked him, unable to conceal his sucpicious tone. He was wondering if, indeed, the young soldier was faking being of such fragile composure and in weak condition just to be granted extra trips to the nurse’s office. Not that he cared about his friend’s whereabouts, he just cared to know if Beanpole was this good of an actor, able to hurt himself just to get something he wanted.

“I used a few after I burned my fingers when I was on cooking duty and sold the rest on the black market.” He answered, totally and foolishly honest with Coriolanus. He attempted to stand up, his tray still half full but almost lost balance, barely able to catch himself.

“Are you alright ?” Coriolanus asked him, standing up to help steady him, even though he really didn’t want to.

“Yeah, it’s just the concussion.” Beanpole assured him. “I need to go back for some pills and then I’ll go to bed.”

“I’ll walk you there.” He offered, not out of the goodness of his heart but by sheer curiosity for the apparently very pleasant new nurse. He wanted to judge for himself, even though he didn’t expect her to be anything special, his comrades were so sex deprived that their standard barely reached the floor.

With a hand gripping his arm to help him walk steadily, the two peacekeepers made their way to the infirmary, Coriolanus almost dragging Beanpole behind him from how impatient he was to see what was really going on there.

At first glance, it seemed that Smiley told the truth, there were a line of more or less injured soldiers waiting for their turn behind the door, even skipping supper in hopes to be cared for here.

“It might take a while.” Beanpole sighed, ready to join the back of the line.

The door opened and a peacekeeper walked out with his arm in a cast, his face visibly upset but not because of the pain he had endured but because he was escorted out by Flavia, the old nurse instead of the new one. She gestured to the next man in line to enter her office and he shamelessly sighed in disappointment.

Beanpole and Coriolanus barely had time to take a step in direction of the end of the line when the door in front of them opened again, revealing you, wearing a white blouse and your hair tied up in a messy updo.

“Next please !” You called, and a soldier excitedly sauntered in your direction. But your gaze landed on Coriolanus for an instant, before noticing Beanpole leaning onto him for support. “Oh, is the concussion getting worse ?”

Coriolanus had to admit that you were very pretty indeed. Even with the worry that suddenly appeared on your face, you reminded him of the expensive dolls Tigris used to play dress up and hold tea parties for.

“I just need something for the pain.” Beanpole told you, trying to sound self assured but the sight of you made him smile stupidly again.

“He’s barely able to stand.” Coriolanus said because, as time went by, he kept leaning his weight more and more on him and at this point, he was starting to worry that he might have to carry him back to their dorm.

“Come in.” You said, standing aside to let them in the infirmary. There were a few whispers of indignation and protest as they passed by the line of eager soldiers, the one who almost got in taking his place back at the front while glaring daggers at them.

Coriolanus helped Beanpole to the bed placed in the middle of a small room, of which you closed the door and searched a shelf for a file, before stepping to the counter to retrieve some medical tools. He watched you as you carefully shone a light into Beanpole’s eyes, observing his pupils with attention before turning the small flashlight off and on in his face. You scribbled something in the file you had placed on the bed next to him, and exchanged the light for a stethoscope.

As you leaned forward slightly to reach his heart, your blouse hunched up, revealing some of the curves of your body to Coriolanus, who had a very privileged view of it all as he leaned against the wall behind you, his arms crossed over his chest.

He observed you carefully, starting to understand why all the young soldiers in the building were interested in you. There was something about you that was particularly enticing, maybe it was the alluring curves of your body, or maybe it was your pretty face and the way you made sure to be gentle as you examined your patients ? Whatever it was, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to forget it. And, as you turned around to take one more tool from the counter, you glanced at him in a way that made his whole body buzz with electricity, he could tell that you were disturbed by him, by his presence and by his appearance, the same hint of curiosity in your eyes than the one he felt for you.

————-

The sun was shining bright in the sky, yet it still did very little to ease the humidity that saturated the air. Coriolanus was assigned to patrol the borders of the District in the heat, while forced to wear his peacekeeper uniform and helmet, hand on his gun, always prepared. However, for once, it didn’t seem so bad. He knew that if he had a heatstroke and fainted, he might have the chance to see you again and the idea oddly excited him.

Actually, he had been thinking about you for most of the night, reminiscing of the perfection of your body underneath your white blouse and how you had looked at him, even smiled at him once when you had cleared Beanpole to go back to his dorm. He had seen with his own eyes the impressive amount of soldiers lining up by the door with the hope to spend a few minutes in your company and, this morning during breakfast, he had heard a group of them talking about how each of them was planning to attempt to ask you out before the weekend. You truly were the talk of the caserne.

He didn’t like that you had so many admirers, but what claim did he have on you ? He hadn’t even spoke more than a few words to you… And yet, he felt extremely possessive of you. Like you were some kind of precious treasure that should only belong to him. And maybe he had good chances to make everyone else jealous if he convinced you to give yourself to him, judging by the way you had looked at him, all he had to do was ask…

And, just for the sake of not waking up with a very painful and frustrating erection again - after dreaming of you, naked on your exam table for him - he was determined to shoot his shot at you. He knew it only was a matter of time until you’d agree to go out with one of the idiots who probably pestered you about it on a daily basis, so he had to act quickly.

He wasn’t sure of how he could fake a convincing heatstroke. And if he pretended to have fainted, he might stay there on his own all day until someone eventually found him and helped him. So he needed a better idea, something that wouldn’t require him too much theatrics to be convincing. In fact, being in real pain would probably help to coerce you into taking care of him before everyone else.

His fingers danced on the handle of his gun as he tried to imagine how bad the pain could get if he shot himself in the foot or in the knee. It would make him a pretty useless peacekeeper which might grant him a few weeks of forced vacation to recover but he was worried of where he might be sent to next if he wasn’t fit to be a soldier anymore…

He looked around him, seeing nothing but tall grass swaying in the wind and a rocky dirt road leading to a row of delabrated shacks that people from this District called homes. Not much to help with his plan.

Suddenly, something slowly undulating further down the road, moving the peebles on its way caught his attention. He approached carefully, realizing that it was a green snake trying to go back to the tall grass that it could use as shelter.

Coriolanus didn’t know much about snakes. Actually, his knowledge in the matter was so limited that he never would be able to tell the difference between a venomous snake and an inoffensive one. However, it seemed to him that this one was very similar to the one that had bit another peacekeeper’s ankle when they were running laps around the barracks. As far as he knew, the guy was still alive so it might be his best chance to get to see you again.

He kneeled down on the road and tugged the sleeve of his shirt up, offering his entire arm for the nervous snake to bite into. But it wasn’t aggressive enough to gratuitously attack a human being it seemed so Coriolanus picked the reptile up, feeling the cold scales under his fingertips before letting it fall on his bare arm. Nothing happened, except that the animal was now terrified and tried to slither away in the grass, at a surprisingly fast speed.

He barely managed to catch it before it vanished in the grass the same color as it was. He pulled it back to him and the reptile’s head snapped back to dig its sharp fangs inside the soldier’s exposed wrist.

Coriolanus grimaced, immediately pulling on the snake until he was able to pull his fangs out of his skin. He sent it flying across the road, not seeing where it landed as he focused his attention on his now aching wrist and the two dots of blood rapidly bubbling at the surface of his skin.

“Shit.” He breathed, the pain in his arm sharply stinging. It was almost as if he could feel the venom, slowly invading the blood in his veins.

He stood up, applying pressure to the bite so that he wouldn’t bleed too much despite the pain it provoked, and took off in direction of the casern. He was hoping that his plan would work and that he wouldn’t end up being treated by Flavia instead of you but, above all things, he hoped that he wouldn’t die from such a stupid action. You may be absolutely gorgeous but he wasn’t ready to die for that. Not yet.

When he knocked on the infirmary door, blatantly ignoring the queue in front of it, his main concern became reality as Flavia opened. The old nurse’s gaze was strict and unwelcoming, the polar opposite of your warmth and beauty.

“Another heatstroke ? Go wait in line for your turn.” She said, authoritatively.

“No, I was bitten.” He told her, showing her the mark on his now inflamed skin. Even if he was hoping to see you, his bite still needed urgent medical attention and he wasn’t sure he would survive if he had to wait in line before treating it.

Thankfully, as if on cue, your face appeared behind Flavia, eyes wide in surprise.

“I can take care of that, I just finished treating Armstrong’s heat rash.” You suggested and he could tell that you were hoping to see him as badly as he was hoping to see you.

“Alright. I was planning on taking a coffee break after this one, anyway.” Flavia nodded, before disappearing in her own office where a distressed soldier waited for her.

Coriolanus followed into the room where you had taken care of Beanpole the day before, but this time it was his turn to sit on the examination table. You repeated the same gestures as he had observed last time, fetching his file from the overflowing shelf before approaching to examinate his bite.

“Did you see what the snake that bit you looked like ?” You asked, as you ran your gloved fingers over the two deep holes in his skin. He noticed the worry that instantly showed on your face, making him wonder if you truly cared this much about your patients.

“It was green, and pretty small.” He recalled, momentarily forgetting about the pain in his arm because of how close you were to him. He could smell your perfume and see the subtle variations of the specks of color in your eyes from here.

“Mmh, I don’t think it’s a venomous one but it’s probably going to hurt for a few days.” You announced, going back to the counter to take a small glass jar in your hands. Then, you carefully applied an herbal salve to his wound, instantly giving him some relief from the stinging pain that lingered there. “But I only have one jar of this salve so you’ll have to come here so I can apply some to the wound and change the bandages every day.”

“Alright.” He answered, struggling to contain his excitement at your words.

You gently wrapped his wrist up in an immaculately white bandage, soothing the last bit of pain he still felt from the bite. He saw it as the perfect opportunity to ask you what every soldier in this building was dying to.

“I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink with me sometime ?” He suggested, trying to sound as confident as he usually was but his heart was racing in his chest.

You lifted your eyes up to meet his, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“That sounds nice but unfortunately I’m not allowed to do that. The only time I can be seen with peacekeepers without risking my job is here, in the infirmary.” You replied and he silently stared at you for a moment, trying to determine if it was an excuse or if you really would have accepted if your position allowed you to. “But maybe you could spend more time here ? With me ?”

Your voice was hesitant and a lovely blush creeped to your cheeks as you said that, a risk you seemingly were ready to take for him.

“I could.” He smiled, charming as ever. “But how would we pass the time ?”

“Maybe we could get to know each other ?”

His smile grew wider as the vivid images of last night’s dream filled his mind again, visions of you naked for him, begging for his dick, that he was determined to make come true right now. He stood up, stepping closer to you, his hands already tugging at your blouse to get it to slide down your arms.

“I’d love to get to know you more… Intimately.” He whispered, his lips brushing over yours. And, since you didn’t step back or push him away, he finally pressed his mouth to yours, in a chaste kiss that still managed to get his whole body buzzing with adrenaline.

Your professional blouse dropped to the floor and his arms closed around your waist, pulling you into him, where you could very obviously feel the hard bulge that had formed in his pants pressing against your stomach.

His lips moved to your neck, peppering it with wet kisses as he eagerly tried to find the hem of your shirt so that he could pull it off of you and see what was hidden underneath. You let him, even though your heart was about to implode inside of your chest.

He only stopped kissing you to be able to take a good look at your now bare chest in front of him, the sight worth a thousand snake bites.

“Oh gosh.” You whimpered, as he roughly squeezed your boob in his hand, taking a bite at your lower lip to shut you up because you could say anything else.

He probably should have taken his time to enjoy every inch of you as he uncovered them one by one, giving attention to your very appetizing breast before attempting to remove your pants but he was never one to be patient, nor could he possibly renounce to something that he so ardently desired.

“Wait, wait.” You pleaded against his mouth, your hands on his chest to gently push him away but even like this, he had trouble to let go of you.

“What’s wrong ?”

“It’s just that… I wasn’t expecting this. I… I never did this before.” You stuttered, your eyes fixed to his with a bit of panic on your face.

“Well, it’s not that uncomfortable in here.” He remarked, briefly looking around before focusing his attention back to you. You were shorter than him and almost naked, chest bare and pants tugged down to your thighs. All he had to do was reach between your legs and he’d be able to catch a feel of your panties, see if you were already wet for him or if he’d have to work for it. As for him, he was already rock hard, his cock begging to be released out of his pants so that it could be shoved inside you. But he enjoyed being in his uniform in front of you, while you were about to be naked and vulnerable, at his entire mercy…

“No, I mean… I never did it” Your words had the effect of a cold shower over his head, pulling him out of his hungry contemplation of your body and getting his full attention on you. For the second time, he stared at you while trying to decide if he believed you or not, the idea of you still being a virgin making no sense in his mind, how could you be ? You were far too gorgeous to not have had many opportunities to lose your virginity to someone in the past, even here, soldiers lined up at your door every day, desperate for your attention. Surely one of them would have convinced you to do it by now. Or at least, if you were so concerned about the rules, some coal miner from your district or a free spirited muscician would have done it.

“You… How come ?” Was all he managed to say, the question burning his lips since it seemed entirely impossible to him that you’d still be so innocent and unaware of the pleasure you were missing out on.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t interested enough in anyone to go this far…”

Coriolanus couldn’t help but smile at your answer. He felt insanely pleased imagining you refusing all these filthy miners and weak soldiers. You had standards. And you definitely were the only person that he had met in District 12 who was this reasonable.

“I can show you what it’s like if you want me to.” He suggested, trying to sound detached but the idea of being the one to take your virginity, the one to corrupt your innocent body, was making his cock ache in his pants.

You seemed hesitant, looking around at the office. He could understand that it probably wasn’t how you had imagined your first time would happen, not here, not with him. Yet, when your pretty eyes landed on him again, you quietly nodded.

He had to be cool about, appear as if it was a regular thing for him, like he had done it before many times and would be doing it again with other girls, but his blood was boiling with excitement. When he had asked you out for a drink, he was expecting to have to work for it. He would have been proud of being seen with you at The Hob by all the recruits lining up for your attention, and he would have made sure to charm you into taking things further, probably in a dark alley outside where no one would have seen your perfect body except for him, but where surely some people would have heard how good he was making you feel.

Unable to wait any longer, he reached down to open up his pants and free his hard erection from his underwear, stroking it in his hand, enough to get it to develop to its full length but not too much, in case he might cum just from the way you were staring at it, with wide eyes and shock on your face.

“You’re so big, I’m not sure I’ll be able to do this.” You told him, worried.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to take it.” He assured you, with a proud smile on his face. He always liked when women noticed how well endowed he was. Even better when it made them nervous. “Sit down on the table.”

You obeyed, even though you still seemed very uncertain. He pulled your pants and panties down your legs, discarding them on the floor so that you really were completely naked now, beautiful and vulnerable.

“Maybe it’ll work if you enter just the tip.” You suggested, and an amused chuckle left his lips.

“Alright.” He agreed, but only to reassure you. He had no intention of depriving the rest of his length from entering you so you would have to take it fully eventually.

“Okay.” You sighed in relief but your body remained tense as he approached and forced your legs open. He held his cock in his hand and gently stroked your exposed folds with the tip, groaning from the pleasant warmth and wetness that instantly coated his sensitive skin.

He knew he should have been a gentleman about this and made sure that you were ready for him but he simply couldn’t wait. His desire for you was consuming him, he needed to have you and that instantly made him forget how cautious he should be to make sure the experience would be enjoyable for you too. So he lined himself up to your entrance and pushed forward.

“Just the tip.” You reminded him, your entrance stretching out for his wide dick, causing a sharp burn in your lower stomach.

“Right.” He said, with a smile, as he kept increasing the pressure that already felt unbearable inside you, very slowly but surely pressing his hips further against you.

“That’s too much.” You cried out, tears welling in your eyes.

“You can take it.” He said again, because one way or another, he was going to break that dam inside you and then, he’ll fuck you until he’ll be close enough to mark you as his with his cum.

“No, I really can’t.” You replied, your voice breaking. Coriolanus felt a pang of guilt in front of your distress, the grimace of pain on your face and the tears silently rolling down your cheeks weren’t exactly what he had imagined when he had fantasized about taking you on this examination table.

“Just try to relax.” He instructed, momentarily putting his eagerness and need for relief aside to focus on you. He pressed his hand between your legs, his thumb finding your sensitive spot and gently massaging it to ease you into it, mixing the pain of his intrusion inside you with the pleasure of his caresses.

With two fingers, he opened up your folds so that he could see his big cock shoved halfway inside your tight and aching pussy. He could see it sliding further inside inch by inch, his way of teasing your clit seemingly helping your body accept him.

And then, suddenly and without any warning, your pussy engulfed him. You cried out once more, as something inside you was teared apart to allow him to finally be completely buried in your tight warmth. Your arms instantly closing around his neck for support. He almost came from this alone, the force with which you clenched around him from the pain you felt almost making him dizzy.

“What’s going on ?” You asked, panicking. “Why did that hurt so bad ?”

“Your pussy just swallowed my cock on its own accord. Because despite the pain, you want me to fuck you, right ?” You want to feel me inside you, want me to show you what real pleasure is.” He explained, breathless, doing his best to calm down before his ejaculation might end this all too soon. “Say it, tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel you…” You told him, wincing when he started pulling away.

“And ?”

“I want to have an orgasm. I want to be fucked until you have one too.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, realizing that his plan to calm himself down by getting you to talk to him was failing miserably. He almost entirely pulled his cock out of you, only to shove it back inside slowly. As eager as he was for relief, he now wanted you to enjoy it too.

The more he gently slided back and forth inside you, the more your face eased back into a peaceful expression, the pain visibly fading as he tried his best to replace it with pleasure.

“Look how well you’re taking me now.” He told you, and you both looked down to his impressive cock, his length coated in your arousal and faint traces of blood as it went back and forth at a peacefully steady rythym. As tight as your entrance was, he still fitted inside you, managing to hit deep.

“Am I bleeding ?”

“Yes, but that’s normal, that’s how we know you’re no longer a virgin.” He explained, even if you probably knew that already.

“Is it going to be like this every time ?”

“No, now that I broke you in, you’re going to enjoy it when someone fucks you like this. You’ll be able to take it fast and rough with a little bit of practice.”

“Is this how you like it ? Fast and rough ?” You asked him, curious.

“Most people do.”

“Will you help me get used to it then ?”

“I already am, sweetheart.” He replied, his hands gripping your thighs to bring them up against his hips and give him better access to you. His movements amplified as his rocked his hips more rapidly now and you pressed your forehead against his, still fascinated by the way you could see his hard cock disappearing inside your folds and slamming deep inside you.

You closed your eyes, feeling something powerful building inside of you. A loud sound that carried the whole intensity of the pleasure that he was giving you escaped your lips. Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth with your hand, embarassed.

“Don’t, I want to hear you.” He told you, moving your hand away and pinning your wrist to the table. “And I want everyone outside to hear you too. Let them know I’m the one taking your virginity.”

“But… Flavia.” You warned him, breathlessly.

“She said she was going to take a break, she’s probably at the cafeteria.” He replied, trying to reassure you but in reality, he had no idea of what the other nurse was up to. He knew that you were risking your career if you got caught by anyone in such a compromising position but it didn’t really matter to him, not now, because he was pretty sure that if anyone bursted inside the room in hopes to interrupted him, he’d still keep fucking you until you truly belonged to him. Now that he had started, nobody would be able to stop him.

You didn’t object. You couldn’t. He could tell from the way you arched your back and rolled your eyes that there wasn’t a single reasonable thought in your head anymore. You needed relief as badly as he needed it too and that was exactly what he intended to give you.

“Oh… It’s starting to feel really good.” You panted, your nails digging in his shoulder to steady yourself as his thrusts grew a bit more brutal.

“Good.” He groaned, making sure to slam himself as deeply as he could inside you. Damnit you felt too good, he wasn’t going to be able to restrain himself much longer, the tightness of your virgin pussy around him and the knowledge that he was the first one to ever penetrate you so deeply was too much and relief instantly washed over him as warm cum spilled from his cock into you.

Fuck.

“Oh !” You exclaimed in surprise, not because he had climaxed without giving you a warning but because his twitching cock unexpectedly pushed you over the edge too. You were shocked by the strength of the orgasm that hit you, imploding in your core like a firework and washing over your entire body, ensnaring him inside you in reaction.

You moaned again, the pressure around him caused by your own climax felt unbearable. He was trapped in you and the contractions of your body were so intense that he groaned and felt his cock shoot another load of his seed inside you.

A moment went by during which only the sound of your panting breaths filled the room. Then, you relaxed and he was able to pull himself out, both of you watching as his soaked length dropped out of you. He adjusted his uniform, making sure he was presentable again as you did the same, putting your white blouse back on as if nothing had happened.

“I… I’ll need to take care of that bite again tomorrow.” You told him, still a bit breathless as you walked him to the door.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” He promised, with a grin.

Everyone stared at him as he walked out of the office. He smugly smiled at the line of soldiers and stood straighter, feeling extremely proud of himself. Not only had he managed to fuck the new nurse everyone was after but he had also taken your virginity and marked you as his. Of course, the soldiers waiting in line had no way of knowing that your blood was still on his cock and that his cum was probably dripping down in your panties by now but, if they were observant enough, they might notice how you were leaning against the door for support because your body was sore, or the trace of faint lipstick you had left on the collar of his peacekeeper uniform.

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[b14augrana]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Your story goes deeper than what meets Alexia’s eye

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 2 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion. aditionally, alexia is pretty mean in this and there wont be a happy ending for a few parts 😬

A/N: massive thank you to this request for the amazing idea 🫶🏼. r is 18 y/o but still going under teen!reader. this is going to be multiple parts because theres so much i could do for this request that i find impossible to fit into one part and write to a good standard, so here you go!

The Stands

Football unites the world. It brings people, cities, and countries together, like nothing else.

You’ve seen it happen in your beautiful hometown of Barcelona — all you can see during the hours leading up to any match set to be played in the Camp Nou is red and blue in the sky. Blaugrana painted the streets below, and the entire city came alive with the commotion from the stadium.

You spent your entire childhood being part of the roaring atmosphere, waving your Barça flag proudly in the air alongside every other flag and wearing the infamous colours across your chest.

Most of all, you prayed with every bit of faith in you, that one day you’d be on the pitch, playing for the club of your dreams.

Everyone in the crowd had their own individual life. There could be a single mother, a lawyer who used up his last days of leave to attend the match, a young boy with his father, an elderly person on an outing with his wife, someone from abroad who’s spent thousands and travelled for hours to watch their favourite player in real life.

11 players could bring together almost 100,000 people just to watch them kick a ball around, and you wanted to have the same effect. You wanted to be so good at football and have the ability to transform a simple sport about kicking a ball around into 90 minutes of entertainment, performance, art. You wanted to do it with Barcelona.

You trained meticulously for months. You passed your small, worn out ball against the same fence in your backyard, you practiced your touch by juggling until the frustration made you storm away in tears and you learned new skills and used your own shoes as cones to pose as defenders and dribble around.

When you went to the Camp Nou to trial for the renowned La Masia academy, you were little and clutching your FC Barcelona backpack for support. The stadium already looked so big when you were up in the stands, but when it was empty and you were actually on the pitch, it was even bigger. You were stood on the same grass as your idols that once had the same dream as you, and that was unbelievable.

The start of your journey as a player at FC Barcelona had begun.

Day after day, you woke up early for training. Your siblings were never awake at that time, so the rare moment of peaceful alone time with your mother was something you looked forward to every morning.

She drove you to the La Masia facilities and then picked you up at sunset. Sometimes, when she had to work late, you and some of your teammates would go to the park and play with the other local kids until your parents came.

Those were the same teammates that you got promoted to the B team with, and the evening 5-a-side games in the park never stopped. They were your best friends — you all shared a common dream of getting to the first team and playing in big tournaments and winning titles, and even though you realistically wouldn’t all be able to do that, no one ever stopped believing that one day it would happen.

As you grew up and your career just started to take off, things started to change. Not just in football, but your life off the pitch too. All at the age of thirteen.

Your father started coming home late. As if your mother was stupid, he’d waltz into the house in the middle of the night, claiming he had to stay a little late because a last minute meeting was called or he lost track of the time. The mild arguments started, and when the late arrivals became more frequent, your mother’s suspicions grew stronger.

One night, it came to a halt. Just when you stopped expecting it, he came home at his regular time; half past six. The only difference was, he didn’t look happy to be home at all. A frown tainted his face ans there was something off-putting about his demeanour. Soon, it all made sense.

You watched from around the corner, your head barely peeking out. Your dad shrugged his blazer off, and you noticed the way his mouth twitched as if hesitating to say something. Once he spoke, a big part of you wished he hesitated a bit more and realised down the line that he was making a bad decision, but it was too late.

The reason he was working late, the secrecy, the floral smells that lingered on his shirts; he was never working overtime, the floral smells were not from the diffuser in the office, and he did have something to hide.

It was called infidelity.

Your siblings emerged from their rooms as soon as the cacophonous yelling started, and you were quick to usher them away from the arguing.

The reality of how bad the situation really was hadn’t yet settled in, but you knew the outcome wasn’t going to be good.

Your youngest brother complained about his rumbling stomach, and the other two were quick to jump on the hunger train. For a moment you were stumped, because you didn’t want to go into the kitchen where the argument was taking place and get dragged into it, so your solution was grabbing a €50 bill and sneaking out to the nearest restaurant.

You were the oldest of four kids. After you was one of two boys, Lorenzo, and then the twins, Magdalene and Dani. They shared the same passion for football as you, and your fondest memories consisted on being in the stands of Camp Nou with them.

All of you snagged a table in a cozy restaurant, one you were familiar with due to going there multiple times with the rest of your family.

The hour you spent in that restaurant with your siblings turned out to be the last hour of a carefree life you’d get to indulge in.

The Pitch

You turned 18 last week, but you got promoted to the first team last month. The headlines painted you as an emblem of success for Barça’s youth programme, the future captain of the first team, and there were all these opinions flying around about you as a player. The opinion that mattered most, though, was that of your captain.

You and Alexia Putellas didn’t get along. Her opinion on you was nothing short of disapproving, and she let you know of that as you arrived at practice.

“(Y/N),” the woman said, her voice holding notes of irritation as she approached you. You looked at her, preparing yourself for the inevitable lecture.

“You’re late again. You might be young, but over here you’re the same as all of us no matter your age, which means getting to training at the same time as us,” she berated you, her hands set on her hips and her eyebrows furled in annoyance.

“Look, captain, I had to–” you started, but your explanation was cut short by Alexia.

“I don’t have time for your excuses. Do better next time, or you’re sitting out of practice entirely. Go run your laps,” she snarled, dismissing you with a wave of her hand.

You could only watch in anger as she stormed away while the others looked at you sympathetically, and you bit your tongue as you walked to the locker room and dumped your bag in your cubby.

She belittled you in every interaction you two had, which was a shame because you really liked her beforehand. In fact, you looked up to her, and you looked forward to being captained by her, but now it was hell on earth every time you entered the gates and met her scrutinising gaze.

Training was nothing special. It was the same old passing drills, small-sided games, shooting and free kick practice, and then before you knew it, home time.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and left before Alexia could stop you and give you yet another lecture. After stopping at the primary school to pick up Magdalene and Dani, you three drove to the middle school to pick up Lorenzo. Barcelona rush hour was rife around the time you picked up your siblings, so you spent another half an hour stuck in traffic until you finally got home.

All you wanted was your bed, and a nap. Still, you dragged yourself to the kitchen to make something quick for dinner so it was ready for your siblings when they were hungry, and then you tidied up in the living room.

Ever since your dad left, your mother was a wreck, leaving you as the successor to her caretaking duties of the kids. She was never a drinker, but after he left, she found herself depending on alcohol for a quick escape.

It was nice for a little bit; a short break from the world that always ended too soon. She kept chasing and chasing that relief until she was in too deep, and it was never enough. The bottles multiplied, the cans lined the rubbish bins, the stench polluted the air that once smelled of a fresh vanilla essence, and she became latched onto it.

You blamed your father for it all, because it was his unchastity that motivated every drink. Your mother was a beautiful woman who loved her family more than herself.

That was what ruined her.

“Hermana, hermana,” Magdalene spoke, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt. You looked down just as you turned off the stove, and she rubbed her stomach, “I’m hungry.”

“Okay hermanita, ask the boys if they’re hungry, please,” you replied, smiling at her. She nodded and ran to their bedrooms, and soon they all emerged from around the corner.

After scooping generous amounts of macaroni and cheese onto their plates, you put some onto your plate and sat down with your siblings to eat. Together, you all talked about your busy days and they listened to you tell them all about your training. They loved hearing your stories about Barça, and every time, Magdalene and Dani would ask you to continue your stories until they fell asleep.

Tonight was no different as you tiptoed out of the twins’ bedroom, gently shutting the door behind you. As much as you loved sleeping after a long day, part of you also dreaded it, because it meant starting a new day and facing Alexia.

When you woke up, it was to gentle knocking on your bedroom door. You were awake enough to comprehend the quiet pattering of footsteps across your hardwood floors, and when tiny hands grazed your skin, you jolted awake. “Hermana, time to wake up! School time!” Magdalene chimed.

So your morning routine began.

With one sock and half your jacket over your head, you made three lunches for the kids right after making their breakfast. Your mother slowly slumped out of her bedroom, wrapping her robe tight around her.

“Bon día,” she mumbled, a smile on her face. With a glance over your shoulder, you acknowledged her before going back to slicing two oranges.

“Morning, mamá,” your siblings responded quietly, shoving food into their mouths to avoid speaking any further. She sat on the couch, sighing deeply.

As she walked past you, you could immediately recognise the stench of alcohol — no surprises there. Years ago, she would’ve smelled like warm musky perfume, not the pungent smell of chemicals.

“Can you make me something, hija? ‘M very hungry,” she said to you, looking your way. You kept your head down, sealing the lunchboxes and cleaning up the counter.

“No, ma, I have things to do. Make your own breakfast,” you responded coldly, “Hermanita, pequeños, bring your dishes here.”

Your siblings scrambled from the table with their empty plates, giving them a quick wash before retreating to their rooms to get their uniform on. On the couch, your mother was still begging for food.

“Hija.. I’m hungry,” the woman slurred.

“Mamá, I have to get your kids to school and go to my own job, which my captain is already angry at me for being late because I have to drive them all around Barna,” you hissed.

“Then I have to come home and make dinner after cleaning your mess. You can make your own breakfast, for once!”

You always felt bad for yelling at your mum, but your life was hard enough with trying to get to work and drop off your three siblings in time while worrying about making your mum a meal.

You had a chance at life. You had a chance to succeed, and you weren’t going to waste it. You weren’t going to rely on a man to look after you in the future until he turns around and wants to look after another woman, leaving you damned.

“Bye, mamá,” you grumbled, grabbing your keys from the bench and swooping your boot bag up from the floor.

It was Dani’s turn to pick which song to play on the radio on the drive to school. He chose a very popular song within your siblings; ‘Me Gustas Tu’. The song had been broadcasted on the radio one day, and everyone seemed to love it. Their favourite part of car rides to school was winding the windows down and singing as loud as they’d like.

Somehow, amongst your father leaving and your mother’s new habits, your siblings were always happy, and that’s what you admired most about them. Maybe they were unaware of the harsh reality, but they were still naïve and unscathed by everything that happened.

It was almost 9:30 in the morning when you started making your way to the training pitch. Mentally, you were preparing yourself for the big lecture you were about to get from Alexia and seriously didn’t need, but physically, you looked unbothered if not a bit tense in the shoulders.

You almost tripped on your way out of the car as you rushed around to get your gear. Walking into training everyday just to get yelled at by Alexia was never nice, but you were used to it. Unfortunately.

That wasn’t the sort of relationship a captain should have with one of her players. It was almost like she despised you, and if she had her way, you probably would’ve been off the team within the first week.

Sure enough, when you appeared on the pitch, the first thing you heard was the low whispers beside you.

“…She’s irresponsible and doesn’t belong on the first team. Being late once, I understand, but multiple times? Her excuses are not good enough–”

“Excuses? Ale, you’ve never let her explain herself.”

“There shouldn’t be any need for excuses anyways, because she shouldn’t be late at all. If she wants to take her time and be let off easy like a child, send her back to the B team. Look, she isn’t even here yet.”

“She is, though. Look behind you.”

The woman turned around, her glare settling on you and being as cold as ever. She spun her whole body around and folded her arms across her chest, her frown heavy.

You sighed, looking down to your feet. It made you feel even worse that you couldn’t help it, and you couldn’t explain it to her either, because that action had potential to get your siblings taken away.

“Drop your bag, get comfortable. You’re not training today,” she snapped.

Your heart sunk. You fought to fend off any tears from forming on your waterline as you nodded, raising your head slightly.

“Listen, (Y/N). This team is everything to me. I have lots of respect for the people who coach us and come here to be coached. You, showing up late? That shows a lack of respect for those people. You’re lazy, unorganised, irresponsible–”

Irresponsible was untrue. If anything, you were the most responsible person you’ve ever known, but Alexia didn’t know that because she didn’t care to know you.

“…I can’t expect you to represent our club and our city on big stages if you can’t even come to training on time. You aren’t FC Barcelona material, and unless things change, you never will be.”

Your lip quivered as your body aligned to bolt for the locker room as soon as she left you alone, away from the watchful eyes that surveyed you in pity when had you arrived. Alexia turned on her heel and stormed away past Mapi, whom she was talking to previously.

She left you in her wake, crestfallen and misunderstood, defeated by circumstances beyond your control.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Pride ! PJO or Time Travel drarry if you please ? Thank you !!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

Poseidon hadn’t known what to expect, when he’d found Sally near hysterical and their son’s empty room, when he’d gone to the armory and found a sword missing from the armory with comical IOU scratched in it’s place. He had thought Sally’s mortal mind simply did not have an appreciation for scale, that a teenage demigod was far enough from a seven year old one as to appear closer to a god than a mortal.

He'd underestimated Sally. Not the first time. Hopefully the last.

Percy, nearly fully grown, tips his head back and meets his gaze evenly. He understands why Sally mistook them at first glance.

He doesn’t know if he’s ever had a demigod child take after him quite this starkly before.

“Your mother is beside herself.”

Percy winces, pulling a knee to his chest. “Yeah. The Mist is taking care of the mortal stuff, right? No one’s blaming her for anything.”

Poseidon’s lips thin. “No. Your lack of presence is simply being – ignored.”

Demigod children die young all the time. It wouldn’t do for mortal law enforcement to look into it to closely.

“That’s good,” Percy says. “I should call her. I just don’t know what to say.”

“Why did you call me?” he asks, instead of any of the other questions he’s burning to know the answers to. Just meeting him has been enough to answer some of them.

Persephone’s influence lingers around him so powerfully that if he didn’t know better, he’d be questioning if Percy was his son rather than hers.

He resists the urge to ask after the child version of his son. Sally has already said that Percy doesn’t know, and besides, the difference is not as jarring for him as it was for Sally. He has very little to compare him to.

Percy shrugs. It’s insolent and leaves Poseidon wondering what type of relationship they have in the future that Percy is both this easy in his presence and that Poseidon allowed his son to do something this monumentally stupid in the first place.

Then again, with Persephone’s hand in this, it’s likely he had very little say in it.

“You and Mom are the only ones who know who I am,” he says. Percy couldn’t have known that he’d spoken to his mother before calling him, but he supposes that’s irrelevant. He knows his blood. Barring that, he knows his own eyes. “I guess I just – will you look out for them? If something happens to me?”

Poseidon looks over at the cliff’s edge, at the three sleeping children huddled around a dying flame. Athena, his enemy. Hermes, who he’s never called a friend. Zeus, who’s child shouldn’t even exist, although he acknowledges the irony there. “Is she the child of prophecy, then? Is that what all this is about?”

“She’s a child,” Percy says, voice suddenly hard. “They all are. Isn’t that enough?”

Ah. There’s Sally in him.

“Are you not also a child?” he asks gently.

He snorts. “No. Technically, barely, but not really. This isn’t about me.”

Poseidon thinks it is. He doesn’t see how Percy can be this impossible and this powerful and have this not be about him.

He thinks he knows exactly why Percy has traveled to the past. He doubts it was Persephone’s intention, because she knows better than to believe this is a plan that could work, but maybe it doesn’t have to. She’s clever enough to account for Percy’s choices.

Instead of saying any of that, he rests his hand on Percy’s shoulder. He’s gratified when he leans into it. He must not have been too terrible a father. “You are my child.”

“Dad,” he sighs.

Poseidon squeezes before letting go. “Alright. If something happens to you, I’ll look out for your strays.”

“They’re my friends,” he corrects, but Poseidon is already leaving.

Athena’s child is stirring. It would be just like her get to see something she shouldn’t and wreck his son’s plans, foolish as they may be.