#me tonight buying a new doll

[ultralightpoe]

JUNO - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!

Word Count: 4215

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]

Enjoy!

“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing

Oh yeah, you just get it

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit

God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”

-

You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain. 

There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person. 

Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?

But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. 

Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare. 

From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said. 

As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’.  But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink. 

Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention.  Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat. 

This could be fun. 

“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it. 

“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”

“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh. 

“Would it be worth my time?”

“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”

But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?

But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic. 

“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”

-

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”

-

That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin. 

“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”

The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”

“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?” 

As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost. 

“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”

He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door. 

You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you. 

You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.” 

“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.” 

Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress. 

“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”

“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”

“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath. 

Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms. 

He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining. 

“What will you give me?”

“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”

“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”

“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

-

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

-

And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him. 

You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence. 

When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark. 

He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster. 

So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”

-

It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about. 

Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill. 

But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?

And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person. 

“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors. 

-

“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)

Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)

Can't help myself, hormonеs are high

Give me more than just some butterflies”

-

“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”

“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan. 

Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn. 

The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back. 

“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”

“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off. 

He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”

And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to. 

And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap. 

“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm. 

“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home. 

-

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out some freaky positions?

Have you ever tried this one?”

-

The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check. 

You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement. 

“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.

“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you. 

“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”

He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.” 

“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”

-

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

-

His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt. 

You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center. 

He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own. 

With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair. 

It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan. 

And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him. 

Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up. 

You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”

“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

-

He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze. 

You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”

“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point 

“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”

And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them. 

“You ready doll?”

“Always for you sergeant.”

-

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me

Mark your territory (Ah-ah)

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”

-

He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time. 

His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back. 

It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure. 

And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off. 

-

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)

I'm so fuckin' horny

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”

-

His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild. 

Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump. 

Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher. 

By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets. 

-

“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might (Might)”

-

You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was  empty. 

So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs. 

You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin. 

By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you. 

“Goodnight.” You whisper. 

“Goodnight, Doll.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

-

The waiting was the most dreadful feeling. 

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door. 

It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look. 

“Is it…”

“I….”

And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.

-

[covenofagatha]

Sugar, spice, and everything nice (Part 2)

Word count: 3500+

Warnings: making out, slight mentions of masturbation, sex toys

You’re on your new laptop the next day when Agatha walks into the bakery. Your face lights up and she smiles at you the second she’s through the door. Like every time you see her, she manages to take your breath away. 

“Hey!” You exclaim, motioning your hands around the laptop. “Thank you so much again. You did not have to do this.” 

“I know I didn’t. But I wanted to, hon,” she says. Agatha’s now stopped in front of the counter, looking at you expectantly. 

“Do you want the usual?” 

She smirks playfully. “Do you remember everyone’s order?” 

“Only the ones that tip about 500% and buy me laptops,” you joke, but there’s some truth to it. You’ve had customers that have come in every day for a week and you don’t even realize it’s the same person. She seems satisfied with your quip and nods. 

“I’d love the ‘usual,’ thank you.” 

This time, though, when she holds out the typical $50, you pull out the change from the register and insist she take it. She raises an eyebrow. 

“Please, Agatha, you just bought me a computer,” you say, the beg coming out a little whiny. She teasingly rolls her eyes and takes the money from you. “Thank you. Your coffee will be right up.” 

“Actually, can you make it two?” 

Your heart skips a beat. Who is joining her? A friend? Her partner? 

And then you inwardly scold yourself for caring. 

“Oh, yeah, sure. Another espresso?” 

She shrugs slyly and skates a finger over the countertop. “I don’t know. What kind of coffee do you want?” 

You stare at her blankly, trying to make sense of her question. She must see your puzzled expression because she tosses her head back with a laugh. 

“I’m asking you to have coffee with me, doll,” she explains and the lightbulb clicks in your mind. 

“Oh–oh my god! I’m sorry.” Of course you’re making a fool out of yourself in front of the most beautiful woman on the planet. 

“You don’t have to.” This is the first time you’ve ever seen a flicker of doubt on her face. 

“No, no, I want to. Go sit down and I’ll bring the coffee over when I’m ready.” 

She sits down at the normal booth and you busy yourself making an espresso and a pumpkin spice latte. This time, you allow yourself to glance at Agatha and you feel something in your stomach when you notice that she’s already looking at you, a fond smile on her lips. There’s a tug in your gut and you smile back. You’re not sure why the older woman is drawn to you this much, but you are not complaining. 

There’s something about her too. Something that pulls you in and doesn’t want to let you go. 

You successfully make the coffee this time without any broken laptops and you bring them over to the table, sitting across from her before she has to ask. She looks pleased and blows on her coffee before taking a sip. 

“What’s your drink of choice?” She asks, nodding at your cup. 

“Oh, just a pumpkin spice latte,” you say dismissively. “I’m a big pumpkin fan.” She nods like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. “And, thank you again. For the laptop. You really didn’t have to do that. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” You don’t mean for it to sound as dirty as it does and she smirks like she hears it too. 

“There is one thing you can do.” You urge her earnestly with your eyes. “Go ice skating with me tonight?” It’s getting colder in Westview and the winter festivities are being broken out, including the Winter Wonderland in the square. Complete with an ice skating rink, hot chocolate stands, a snow pit, a hill for the kids to sled down, and even more, it was a town favorite. 

You frown but your heart skips a beat at the thought of her wanting to hang with you. As a date? “How is that repaying you?” 

She flicks her hand. “The money isn’t a big deal. I just want to get to know you better. Unless you’re busy.” 

“No, I have literally nothing to do later,” you say, shaking your head. She looks relieved. “Can I at least pay for the tickets?” 

“Honey,” she scoffs playfully. “I asked, so I’m paying. If you want to pay, you’ll just have to ask me to do something another time.”

“This sounds an awful lot like a date,” you say before you can stop yourself. The corners of her mouth quirk up and she raises an eyebrow. 

“Do you want it to be?” 

“Yeah,” you answer almost immediately, your voice hoarse at the thought. A date. With a rich, hot, older woman. She smiles genuinely. “What time? Oh, I hope all my winter clothes aren’t at home.” You haven’t been back in awhile to your parents’ house and you only brought the necessities to make it until you go back. You’re not sure how many cute options you’ll have. 

“I’ll pick you up around five-thirty? And do you have warm clothes?” She gives you a once-over. You’re in jeans and your uniform top. In the back, you have the heavy coat you wear when you have to go outside, and back at your dorm, you have sweatpants. Not exactly up to par with this gorgeous woman. 

You smile and nod and try to not appear too nervous. What to wear is always a point of stress for you. She must sense this because she reaches over to pat your hand reassuringly and then pulls out her wallet from her pocket. 

Before you can protest, she slaps a credit card down on the table. Your jaw drops and you look back and forth between it and Agatha. 

“Go to the mall and get whatever you want,” she tells you, and there is not even a trace of a joke in her tone. 

“How do you know I won’t just buy a car or something crazy?”

She laughs. “I trust you. And I don’t think you would. You seem like a good girl.” She puts a lot of emphasis on those words and it makes you feel hot. You’re sure your cheeks have turned red. “Text me your address before tonight, yeah?” 

You nod because you don’t trust yourself to talk at this point. What kind of woman just casually hands over her credit card to someone she barely knows?

“Um, thank you,” is all you can muster the strength to say. She gives you one last smile before getting up from the table. 

“I’ll see you tonight, doll.” 

The moment you’re done with your shift, you head to the mall. You’re not exactly sure what will suffice for the date, but you hope you’ll know it when you see it. 

You eventually find some black pants that make your ass look great and a cute purple sweater with a blue vest. It’s a little pricey though. You know Agatha said to get whatever you wanted, but you still feel a little guilty, especially after she’s thrown so much other money at you. 

So you text her. Hey Agatha! At the mall right now. Just want to check if there was a limit to how much I could spend? I found some stuff but it’s almost $200. If that’s too much, no worries at all! You send her your address as well before you can forget. 

She immediately replies. Get the stuff and anything else you want. I can’t wait to see what you’ve picked out ;) see you later. 

The winky face causes heat to pump through your veins and you bite your lip. You clear your throat and head to the check-out, heart beating fast when you press Agatha’s credit card to the reader. It goes through and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

You still can’t believe she just handed it over so willingly. 

Is she your sugar mommy now?

The question weighs on your mind until she texts you that she’s outside your building later that afternoon. You give yourself a once-over and run downstairs to her car. The new clothes are comfy and warm and she looks at you approvingly when you slide into the passenger seat. 

“Good choice,” she says. 

“Thank you again,” you reply, a little breathless from the cold and your speed. You take out her card from your wallet and hand it to her. “I can’t believe you just gave your card to some random stranger like that.” 

She laughs along with you. “I know you wouldn’t do anything. You seem too desperate to please.” Your face heats and you’re not really sure what to say. She isn’t wrong. There’s something about Agatha that makes you want to do whatever she says. “How was the rest of work?”

“Oh, good.” You wave a hand dismissively. “It was a pretty slow day today. Did you have work?” 

She launches into telling you about her newest court case and you find yourself absolutely fascinated to the point of not even realizing that you’ve arrived. Everything Agatha says has you absolutely enthralled and by the faint smirk on her face, she knows it too. 

She leads you over to the ticket stand, her hand on your lower back, and confidently buys two. 

“Thank you,” you say again, a little flustered by how she hasn’t let you pay for anything. You’ll be damned if you leave without buying her a drink or something. 

“Of course, doll. Do you want to skate first?” You nod eagerly, causing her to chuckle, and you both go to pick out skates. She has to help you lace them up after you fumble with them for a while since your hands have become so cold. 

“Full disclosure, I’m not very good at skating,” you warn her when she’s holding onto your arm at the gate. 

“I can help you, sweetheart,” she says and your heart feels so full. 

She gets onto the ice first and lets go of the railing so she can grab your hands and assist you in stepping onto the rink. Your eyes widen when you almost fall after moving your foot forward and it shoots back, but Agatha catches you in her strong arms. 

“Oh my god,” you exclaim as she stands you back up, never letting go of her tight grip on you. 

“It takes a bit to figure out. How many times have you ice skated?” 

“None,” you say, tongue poking through your lips as you look down at your feet and focus on sliding them forward. She glides backwards with you effortlessly. When you finally look up at her, she’s staring at you with something written on her face you can’t quite read. “What?” 

“You could’ve told me that you hadn’t, I would’ve taken you to dinner or something else,” she says. 

“No, no, it’s totally fine. I would’ve done whatever you wanted to do,” you reply half-mindedly. You’re more focused on skating around the corner. Once you do so successfully, her hands move from your wrists to only one hand holding your hip. 

But her touch makes you jump, fire igniting in your stomach, and you slip and fall on the ice. 

You groan in pain and Agatha stifles a laugh before squatting down to check on you. The cold has seeped into your wet pants and the humiliation burns your cheeks. 

“You okay, doll?” 

You nod your head defeatedly. “Yeah, just a little wet.” The moment you say it, you can see her eyes darken just the slightest. Your breath catches when you realize the innuendo and there’s a tense silence with the two of you just staring at each other while others skate around you. 

“Well, let’s get you up. Want to keep trying?” Agatha asks finally. She gets back on her feet as gracefully as ever. 

“As long as you don’t let me fall again,” you joke and take her outstretched hands.

“I didn’t let you fall, you did that all on your own,” she says playfully. 

She carefully lifts you up and you grab onto her biceps when you’re fully standing so you don’t crash back down. Her hands grab your waist again to hold you steady and when you look at her face, she’s staring at your lips. 

“Agatha,” you say, but you’re not sure what else to add because now you’re staring at her lips too. She leans in an imperceptible amount and your mouth parts involuntarily, ready for a kiss. 

“Look out!” Someone shouts and the next thing you know, a three foot tall blur runs straight into you, knocking you, Agatha, and the random person down. 

“Sorry!” The kid exclaims and jumps up to skate away, leaving you and Agatha wincing on the ice. 

“Why don’t we go find something else to do?” She asks and you’ve never been more happy to agree. 

Agatha helps you up once again and this time, interlocks her fingers with yours and slowly skates with you to the exit. 

Once you’ve gotten your shoes back on, Agatha buys the two of you cups of hot chocolate and a pretzel to split and leads you over to a bench so you can sit. 

“Thank you for this,” you say, shoving a piece of the pretzel into your mouth. 

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” 

The pet name does things to you that you can’t say and you find yourself wishing that the almost-kiss on the ice actually happened. You feel so connected and attracted to Agatha, even though you’re not sure why. 

“Why do you keep tipping me so much and buying me all these nice things?” You’re finally brave enough to voice the question that’s been on your mind since the first day she came into the bakery. 

She smiles and reaches over to squeeze your hand. “You deserve it. And I like spoiling you. You get this cute little look in your eye.” You blush instantly and she laughs. “Like that.” 

“Well, can I take you out sometime soon? Maybe for dinner or a movie or something?” 

“I’d like that. I’m free Tuesday or Thursday night this week.” 

“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” you say, happy that she’s finally going to let you treat her to something. “Unless I see you at the bakery first. It seems to have become an integral part of your morning.” You’re teasing but part of you wants her to elaborate on what she’s doing. 

“What can I say? The cinnamon crumb cake and the espresso are to die for,” she says with a wink. You laugh despite yourself. 

Comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you sip on your drinks and eat the pretzel. 

“Is there anything else you want to do?” She asks. 

“Can we go on the ferris wheel?” 

“Of course, dear.” She stands up and offers you her hand and you obviously take it. 

The line for the ride isn’t long at all so you basically walk right into a passenger car. Agatha sits next to you instead of across from you so she can wrap an arm around your shoulders. The wheel starts turning and something on the ceiling catches your eye. 

“Is that mistletoe?” You ask, pointing up at it and then looking at Agatha, who is also peering up at it, corners of her mouth quirking up. 

“Looks like it,” she answers thoughtfully and then glances at you playfully. “Shall we?” 

You don’t even answer, just clasp her cheek with your hand and pull her in. 

It’s a slow kiss at first, just a press of your mouth against hers, but then she opens her lips and slides her tongue into your mouth. You moan into her mouth and try to pull her even closer to you so you can feel more of her. She sucks on your tongue and your teeth make a clicking noise when they clash against each other. 

When you have to pull back for air, she kisses down your jaw and then gently bites on your neck. You gasp and your hips jump against nothing. 

“Agatha,” you breathe and you can feel her smirking as she nibbles on your earlobe. A fire stokes to life in your stomach and your body feels like a lifewire. One of her hands dips under your vest so she can cup your breast through your sweater. You whimper and she chuckles lowly. “Please.” 

“Is this okay?” She asks and you nod so hard your head hurts. She smirks and her hand slides down and under your sweater. 

The coldness of her fingers against your warm stomach makes you gasp but you like it and you pull her back in for a kiss. Her hand keeps moving up under your shirt and she’s about to reach your bra— 

—and the Ferris wheel stops. You let out a sigh of disappointment and Agatha laughs. 

The door to your car opens and the two of you step out. You wonder if your face is as red as it seems and you hope that no one accidentally saw you two making out. 

“So what now?” She asks once you’re back in the middle of the fair. But there’s only one thing on your mind right now. 

You don’t care that you’re surrounded by people right now; you stand up on your tiptoes and give her a searing kiss which she returns immediately. Your hands wrap around her neck and hers find their place on your waist. You end the kiss by tugging on her bottom lip and when you pull back, her blue eyes are dark and hooded. 

“Can we do more of that?” You breathe and she chuckles. You’ve never wanted anyone so badly in your life and you think if you don’t have her hands on you in the next ten minutes you might die. 

“Anything you want,” she whispers and presses one last chaste kiss to your lips. “Does this mean you want to leave?” 

“Please,” you beg and she smirks at how visibly desperate you are. You’ve become so wet and needy since she put her hand on your waist on the ice. You practically drag her back to the car and when she pulls back in front of your dorm, you look at her with begging eyes. “Come in?” 

The moment you say it, you realize how ridiculous it sounds. Bringing a hot, rich, older woman up to your living space that’s probably the size of her closet so she can fuck you in your twin sized bed? Plus it was your first date and you’ve known her for less than a week.

She’s clearly thinking the same thing because she smiles softly and says, “Maybe on Tuesday, doll.”

And yet, you whine. “Why can’t we just go back to your place right now? Please, I’m so-” You cut yourself off before you can tell her just how much you really need her. 

Her smile turns into a knowing smirk. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take care of that yourself then?” You gape and a flush climbs up your neck and to your face, but she leans in and keeps going. “Use your hand, or a toy, to think about me. Just to tide you over for a bit.” 

“I don’t have a toy,” is all you can think to say with your brain short-circuiting. That shouldn’t have been the part to focus on, but Agatha pulls back with wide eyes. 

“You don’t?” 

And then the image of Agatha using a toy on herself inserts itself in your brain and you have to cross a leg over the other to get some sense of relief. “No,” you squeak out. 

The glint in her eyes is positively evil. “Have a good night, doll.” She gives you one last kiss and then unlocks the car door. You give her a playful glare and then go upstairs. 

After you’ve showered and put on pajamas, you slide your hand down your sweatpants and touch yourself. 

It takes all of three minutes before you cum all over your hand, just replaying the kiss with Agatha in your mind. 

You fall asleep quickly after that and in the morning, you’re surprised to see a notification saying that you have a package in the delivery room. You throw on a sweatshirt and head down and it’s a medium sized brown box with your name and an A. Harkness as the mailer. 

Frowning, you take it back to your room and cut it open. Moving the flaps aside, you peer in the box and gasp. 

There’s at least four sex toys. A vibrator, a dildo, a different type of toy, and then a small box. You pick up the box and immediately drop it. 

It’s a remote controlled, long-distance vibrator. 

Your breathing has quickened and you feel your underwear growing wet yet again because of Agatha. 

And then you see a piece of paper. Hands shaking, you pull it out and open it. 

Hope you enjoy ;) Maybe you can wear the vibrator on Tuesday. See you soon. 

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ synopsis. rich boy aventurine wants to tear up the new lingerie he's bought you // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡ cw. prone bone, he rips a hole in your tights <3, fem! reader ♡

"fuuck, it looks so good on you," aventurine's gruff voice chimes against your mouth as he shapes his lips into yours, subtle and blurred and tasting of fresh peppermint— and there's a subtle hint of hunger to it, one that elicits a whimper from you, the low imposing of his voice making your stomach twist.

one sentence of your boyfriend was all it took for your thighs to press together and clench hard, and with him having you lavishly dressed up in the finest, most extravagant pieces of lingerie, it felt all the more heart thundering.

in fact, you will never get tired of listening to his voice, yet, something tonight was quite divergent of your previous days of intimacy— because there was a sense of urgency, of lust and his inability to take his eyes off you.

aside from his face signalizing pain and ache, he easily towers above you before smoothly sliding a hand through his blonde hair, "when i saw it in the store, i just knew it would fit you flawlessly, but doll..." he whispers, and his digits go straight down to grab at your ass and roughly squeeze it, his mind wandering in uncharted lust.

a tasteful gasp spills from the tip of your tongue as aventurine flips you on your stomach at last, attentively waiting for you to perk your butt up a little, as you always did for your boyfriend, walking him to his demise, "fuck, i need you so much," he tenderly brands your ass with his rough palms as you feel a nuance of power in his lustful traces.

you bite down on your bottom lip, "i need you too.." and whine blissfully as he grinds down against your plush ass, his fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear and playing with the lace trim, your swollen cunt peaking from under the thin material as he tauntingly tugs at the hem, only for the elastic to smack back against your skin.

"hey! be careful with the new pieces you got me," you feign a pout as you feel his cock bulge through his boxers, "you will rip them, baby," you continue to retort as your voice suddenly crumbles from within and a deep surge of emotions cascades through your frame the moment aventurine breaks a hole through your tights.

even the ripping effect of the fine material breaking into multiple pieces sounded expensive to your ears— in fact, you made sure to put up a mental sticker of getting him back for this later.

a low chuckle of amusement echoes over him as he draws his cock out before taking it in his palm, stroking lightly and slowly smearing his glossy pre from the tip to his shaft, "you can pick out the next one, okay?"

you roll your eyes at him as aventurine carefully draws his body on top of yours, "we can buy an entire collection," he whispers with a smile as you attempt to swallow the saliva in your throat.

you moan lowly, getting turned on by the constant presence of his wet tip pressing but failing to enter your hole, ah well— it's effective enough to make your pussy throb around nothing, strings of your arousal connecting the two of you as your trembling frame yields against his body.

your mouth opens before his words could register in your mind as you lean into his touch, hips wiggling so he could easily slip inside. you're so dizzying— it makes aventurine want to conquer every inch of your walls, every single spot of your thoughts and memories until you're fucked out of your mind.

the hard plane of his palm flexes against your skin as he leisurely grinds himself inside, your walls engulfing him in a heated, much-needed embrace of your warmth. "more— please..." you grab back to tangle your hand into his messy hair as he moves his hips into you with sultry drags, the cloying noises of your wet cunt undeniably elating the entire scene.

aventurine sighs out, "you're always so— tight, when we..." he pauses before placing a subtle kiss on your neck, "when you let me feel you," as he readjusts his hips a little, so he could feel you up deeper.

your stomach contorts at his rough, yet at the same time, passionate rocks of hips as you felt your slick arousal slide between your legs and mess up the soused panties and broken tights, as if, that would somehow even matter anymore.

it feels a little dirty, you can't lie, and you really loved the way you looked in this precise set of lingerie, but it also feels so good, when aventurine made you lose yourself from the torridity of being spread apart, his twitching shaft and his balls repeatedly smacking against your skin, so eager to be consumed by your wet walls.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[slut4b1ls]

you should write something about reader wearing an anklet with billie’s name/ initial on it 👀

—I BELONG TO YOU

BILLIE EILISH X F!READER

a/n: Okay I get your vision!! Changed it up a little because ankles scare me (if you meant an actual anklet) but here is a short fluff about reader wearing a necklace with Billie’s initial on it! I hope it will do, thank you for the request love❣️

summary: you decided to surprise your girlfriend with a thing that would make her sure of the way you’re truly hers.

masterlist.

You were getting ready to meet your girlfriend Billie at your favorite restaurant. She booked you two a table there for a late night date and you decided to surprise her with something for that occasion. Last night when you were at the mall you saw this beautiful necklace with a "B" letter on it. It caught your attention immediately since it automatically reminded you of your girlfriend. You thought about how you could buy and wear it to your planned date. Thought about it as showing Billie that you are truly hers since she liked to remind you of that pretty often.

The necklace went back home with you and it ended up on your neck the minute you started getting ready for the date. You called a taxi that took you straight to the restaurant. You were all dolled up with a classy dress on complimented by the necklace.

After the finished ride you went out of the taxi and went straight to the restaurant to sit at your table and wait for Billie. She showed up about 5 minutes later and you saw her eyes immediately glow the moment she landed them on you as she entered the space. "You look amazing, pretty girl" She said as she went in work a hug and then sat infront of you. You looked at her and smiled waiting for her to notice the new necklace with her initial you were wearing.

You started fingering your necklace gently to get her attention on it. Billie quickly caught on and looked right at your neck "Oh.. what is this?" she said looking back at you with her significant smirk. "You like it?" You answered softly smiling. "Do I like it? Baby i thought that something else would be compressing your neck tonight but I’m fine with that" she said returning the smile.

You quietly chuckled and Billie’s eyes went back on your neck, or rather your chest. "Well… since you love to remind me I’m yours only so much.. I wanted everyone else to be able to see it too.”

Billie felt her heart flutter as those words came out of your lips. She loved it when you remind her how you belong to her, and only her. "You make it so hard for me not to bend you over this table right now, baby" She said as she squeezes her hands in her lap a little tighter. "I mean.. the bathrooms is empty I believe.” You added as she tilted her head down a little and turned around to look at the bathroom door.

[sungbeam]

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — part one

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

messing around with demonic rituals isn't exactly how you imagined getting bound to changmin's soul. (note to self: salt circles don't work when you draw the pentagram inside it...)

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, technically a college au, demon au (it's different from night terrors i swear. also it's not as intense lol), comedy, suspense/mystery, swearing (a lot... sorry 😭), drinking, low fantasy/supernatural elements, mentions of chronic illness, mentions of rituals and pentagrams, self induced soulmates? 🤔 but ofc 😂, kissing, mentions of blood, very small amount of violence (like one scene), what is a mfking slow burn like who needs to take their time w falling in love i sure don't 🤷🏻‍♂️, one allusion to death

▷ part word count. 16.3k out of 34.8k / read part two here

▷ inspired by. incantations (composed by richard meyer) it's not like,,, the fic's "soundtrack" or anything. i just think it sounds cool lol

this is my submission for deoboyznet's boyz who bite event! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

a/n: i'm telling u that i resisted the idea of another demon changmin au for ONE WHOLE MONTH. i went through THREE OTHER IDEAS BEFORE FALLING BACK ON THIS DRAFT. I SWEAR. so pls reblog + comment + enjoy! :') and thank u to @justalildumpling as usual for reading this for me 😭💖

PART I: THE CATALYST

THERE WERE WORSE WAYS TO GO OUT, you supposed. However, the paranormal wasn't often a subject you frequented, so sitting atop an ashy-white pentagram wasn't exactly how you expected to be spending a Friday night.

“Changmin, you're always hooting about this shit,” Juyeon said as he peered over his shoulder at the boy lurking in the far corner of the living room. “Are you seriously all bark and no bite?”

No one really paid attention to Changmin's response besides you and Juyeon (kind of—he was busy lighting the candles). Technically, it was a new behavior; Changmin was usually the one obsessed with horror movies and the paranormal, constantly getting you all to participate in Halloween horror nights and haunted houses, and bringing his beloved (cursed) Chucky doll to any and every group movie night. But now that you were finally acting on his demonic big talk, all of that stuff and nonsense dissipated like the snuffing out of a candle.

A shadow fell across his face. “I already warned you guys. This isn't something you should be toying around with.”

“It's a Ouija board—what could go wrong?” Shuhua wrinkled her nose as she began tapping out a circle of salt around your body and the pentagram on the floor. “I saw them on sale at Toys R Us for half off.”

Because you were the last one to arrive tonight, you were chosen as the sacrifice. It wasn't really fair because this was literally Juyeon and Changmin's apartment, but it didn't matter much in the end. You didn't believe in this stuff and it wasn't your salt being wasted. (You were also exempt from venmoing Hyunjae a portion of the paycheck he spent buying candles and chalk. Save fifteen bucks and sit on a pentagram in a salt circle? Why the fuck not.)

“Don't we need to draw blood or something?” you asked, half joking.

“No.” Changmin's expression somehow grew even darker. Your eyes widened slightly; you'd never seen him so serious. “Absolutely not. Do you want this to turn out worse?”

“Changmin, dude, you gotta chill, man.” Hyunjae dumped the Ouija board he'd dug out of his parents’ attic onto the floor next to you, just outside the salt circle.

Shuahua squawked. “Oy! You're ruining my perfect circle!”

“Just redo it, dumbass!”

“You redo it, asshat,” she growled back, tapping out some salt to finish it.

Juyeon, as if to placate your friend, said to Changmin, “The salt will protect her.”

You blinked. “Oh, that's what it's for?” You could've sworn that was what the candles were for, but again, you didn't believe in this, so why would you know a thing about it?

Changmin's face hit the palms of his hands with a resounding slap. “Absolutely not. You can't have Yn in the circle if she doesn't even know what the Hell is going on.”

“So do you wanna be in the circle?”

His left eye seemed to twitch as he cocked his head to the side. Something about that movement made a shiver crawl down your spine. The sensation was akin to watching a predator consider its prey from the brush… but that wasn't right. Changmin was all dimpled smiles and goofy shenanigans and twinning with his horror doll child. There wasn't anything remotely scary about him, unless you made him mad (you hadn't yet). So why were your inner alarms screaming for you to run? “That's actually not a bad idea—”

“Okay!” Hyunjae called his hands together. “Let's get started, shall we?”

The thoughts were brushed beneath the dusty rug in your head. You shrugged at Changmin. “Too late, I guess.”

You thought you heard him mutter out something under his breath in frustration, but you didn't understand the language.

All of your other friends began to gather on the side of the circle where the Ouija board was. You weren't even sure what all the pomp and circumstance was for, but Changmin didn't seem up to correct anything. He continued to sulk in the corner with his arms folded over his chest, eyes shaded by the brim of his cap as he stared onward.

Hyunjae's eyes fluttered closed as he, Juyeon, and Shuhua placed their fingers upon the planchette. “To the spirits who may be here in this room with us—”

“And demons,” Shuhua murmured.

A choked sound came from Changmin's side of the room.

Your eyes flickered open and saw him rub a hand down his face as if he was stressed.

“We are opening the veil between your world and ours,” Hyunjae continued. “My name is Hyunjae, and with me are Shuhua, Yn, Juyeon, and Changmin.”

Shuhua inhaled shallowly. “Is there someone here with us?”

The apartment was consumed in a dead silence as the five of you waited. You sat cross-legged in your ring of salt, cheek resting against your fist. Your eyes were drifting to half-mast—it’d been a long day for you, and considering it was approaching midnight already, it was about time you went to bed.

“We brought you a sacrifice,” Hyunjae said. “We were wondering if you could tell us your name.”

A chilling breeze brushed past your cheeks and you glanced up, expecting the air conditioning to have caused it. There was no vent above you, however. Strange.

You wrung your hands in your lap. “You could possess me if you'd like.”

Your eyes joined your friends’ as you all pinned your gazes to the Ouija board. The planchette remained still.

After a beat, your patience ran thin, and you sat up to lean back on your hands—wasn't something supposed to happen?

The amber glow from the candles in the living room wavered violently. In your surprise, your fingers grated against the salt and hardwood as you nearly fell backward. You yanked your hand back to you at the sting.

The bodies in the room went taut, speechless.

A gust of wind—something impossible in this enclosed space—whipped past you in a wide circle. The salt circle was no more, the candle flames were snuffed.

You sat stiff as a board. For a moment, you could swear you felt some invisible, foreign weight rest upon your chest. It sank deep into you, a phantom hand reaching into your body as if to latch onto your very soul.

Ba bump ba bump ba bump, your heart drummed wildly in your chest.

Howls and gasps of delight were drowned out by the blood in your ears; they were sounds of awe from your friends. You placed your hand over your sternum in the dark to feel for that unseen force, but there was nothing.

The room flooded with warm light. It chased away the shadows to the furthest corners.

You glanced up and saw Juyeon at the light switch with a boyish grin stretched across his lips. “That was crazy! Yn, how do you feel?”

Eyes darted to you.

The pentagram beneath you was smudged, the white chalk staining your pants and your hands. You managed a smile, and then a slow nod. What you felt earlier was probably nothing.

“I'm good,” you chirped. You glanced over at Changmin in the corner, his eyes still shaded by the brim of his cap, but with the muscle in his jaw clenched. Why? Why did you look at him? You couldn't fathom why survival instinct had you encoded to turn toward that which was capable of your demise. “Yeah, I'm good.”

A yawn tore through you as you stepped into your darkened apartment. Your hand fumbled for the light switch and you tucked your shoes away on the rack, before depositing your keys onto the table with a noisy clatter. The remainder of your time spent at Juyeon and Changmin's had been spent cleaning up the failed ritual, and you hit the road as soon as it was over.

Your roommates were all out for the night, so the apartment was cold and quiet as you stumbled down the hall to your bedroom. Compared to your friends, you'd left rather quickly because of a text you'd received from Lee Chan, a good friend of yours and former neighbor from childhood. His home life hadn't been the most spectacular, so you and he became fast friends during the moments after school when you hung out on your front lawn.

He'd swung by your apartment earlier to drop off banana muffins, but you hadn't been home. I'm home now! But you can totally come by in the morning instead, you texted him after setting your backpack down and peeling off your jacket.

As you sat in the dim gold illuminating from your desk lamp, the pressure in your chest returned. You could feel your heart pick up speed in your ribcage and you lifted your finger up to your mouth to suck on the dollop of blood that had welled to the surface. It was a small scratch from when the candles went out—your own clumsiness—but it was nothing a My Little Pony bandaid couldn't fix.

A featherweight sensation drifted over your arm, and you slapped your palm over it as if to catch whatever invisible insect crawled atop your skin.

There was nothing though.

You glanced over at the window to your right. The sky outside was an unpeculiar ebony riddled with the white speckles of distant stars. No breeze drifted in from outdoors and you double-checked that the window was closed.

You startled as your phone vibrated on top of your desk.

dino!!: oh it's okay! i have dance practice early in the morning, so i'd rather bother you while ur still awake haha dino!!: i'll be by in about 10ish min if that's cool? your phone: sounds good lol and tysm :’)) love mingyu's banana muffins

You smiled to yourself at the thought of those delicious pastries. Chan's friend Mingyu baked whenever he was stressed, and he usually gave out the results of his stress-bakes to friends. The first time you'd tasted his banana chip muffins was the closest you would ever get to heaven on Earth.

“I'm glad he makes you smile at least.”

Your phone clattered to the floor, your physical body leaping five feet in the air as your soul flew out of its encasing. Everything in you jolted like one, big heart palpitation, and your wide eyes took in the sight of a person standing by your window.

Ji fucking Changmin had nary an apology on his lips for scaring the everloving Hell out of you. It was as if he hadn't even moved out of his position at his apartment: the crossed arms, the tense posture, the clenched jaw.

Except, his eyebrow was cocked this time, unamused by your very valid fear.

“Oh, fuck you.” You braced your palms against your bed as you stood opposite from him. “Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you.”

“I got it the first time.”

You could have blown steam out of your ears. “What the fuck are you doing in my room, you creep?”

He raised his palms up, finally breaking pose. “I know what this looks like—”

“You know what this looks like?” You let out a scoff, throwing your arm out in wild gesticulation to match the throttle of your heartbeat. “This looks like Edward Cullen in Twilight, except this isn't a movie, you're not Robert Parkinson, and you just climbed up a five story building!”

Changmin stepped forward, and you took a very obvious step back. He exhaled, pressing his lips together. “Okay, I deserve that,” he muttered.

“No shit. I should call the cops on you, friend or not. What is the matter with you?” You had known Changmin for as long as your college career thus far. The five of you had met in the freshman dorms and stuck together like a package deal since. You were all quite close, and you'd spent more than your fair share of quality time with Changmin.

But this—nothing could warrant this behavior.

“I need to talk to you about something important.”

You enclosed your palms around your arms, defensive. “Then you call or text or use the front door. My window was locked—”

“The lock on your window should be the least of your concerns,” he huffed. There was a firmness in his voice and behind his words, and a matching gleam of desperation in his face. He pressed his fingers against your bedspread and the air seemed to still.

That phantom breeze had returned and it drifted against your arm. It came accompanied by the weight in your chest. “What,” you stammered, “do you mean?”

He glanced away then, that tension seizing his shoulders again. He scratched his jaw seemingly at odds with words. “The ritual that happened tonight… that was real.”

You paused. “You have got to be shitting me.”

“I'm not.”

“Changmin, I'm way too exhausted to deal with your pranks right now. If tonight was all an elaborate thing you guys did to get back at me for waking you up at 4AM—”

“Yn.” The tone of his voice made you stop. It made you think. You considered the graveness of his expression differently; you had never seen him so serious. It was jarring. “I am being incredibly serious. The thing that happened to you tonight? That was a summoning ritual, and you were actually put into contact with Hell.”

You remained quiet, unknowing of how to answer. All logic in your brain was countering his statements profusely—it wasn't possible. There was no way something as little as chalk, salt, and candles could open up a portal to Hell.

At your lack of response, Changmin continued, “Tonight, a line to Hell was opened. The ritual was meant to contact a demonic entity. Usually, ritualists use it to make deals and bargains with whoever answers the call. The human link—the 'sacrifice’” —he looked at you pointedly— “is one half of the signing party responsible for fulfilling whatever the bargain is.”

A shudder rattled down your spine at what he revealed to you. This had to be a joke, you thought. This could not be real. But every time you looked at Changmin, the expression on his face did not change and his voice did not waver.

You swallowed, hard. “So,” you said finally, your voice barely a whisper, “you're saying…”

A lone nod. “You made contact with a demon tonight.” He paused for a beat, something warring behind his eyes. “You made contact with me.”

What. You sputtered out a laugh.

Changmin released a small, but sharp exhale, patiently waiting for you to let your giggles out. There were undoubtedly better ways to reveal it, but any way would still evoke such a reaction from you.

“Okay, now I know you're fucking with me,” you said with the lingering curl of a smile on your face. “You're saying that you're a demon?”

He seemed to weigh an idea in his head for a millisecond before caving. He flicked his chin out toward you. “You cut yourself tonight?”

You flinched and instinctively curled your right hand, your other fingers running over the small slice in your index finger. “What?”

“Come on. Let me see.” At your balking, he lifted up his hand. “I bet you I have a matching mark.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What hand and where?”

“Right hand. Index.”

“This doesn't count because that's the most predictable hand and finger.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yn, don't be silly. I literally have the same mark.”

Slowly, he stepped his way around the bed to your side, stopping only close enough where you could inspect his hand from a distance. Lo and behold, the flesh of his index finger was neatly sliced open, slightly diagonal in the top right quadrant of the finger—exactly where yours was.

The breeze returned like a cool breath, gentle against your cheek, as you raised your eyes to meet his again. The horror in your gaze must have confirmed that he'd convinced you of who—no—what he was.

“So what does this mean exactly?” you asked him. There were no giggles this time.

Changmin sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “We are now bound via soul,” he said and extended his hand out slightly. His fingers curled inward and he gave a tugging motion level with your chest, and something deep within you moved.

Your eyes went as wide as a full moon. “What the Hell…”

“That's the line we're connected by.”

“I'm on a leash?”

Changmin glanced toward the ceiling as if mentally counting to three, then took a breath. “Not a leash; it's just a line. That's what was created between us when I became the demon on the other end and you spilled your blood on the pentagram. It doesn't mean we're restrained to stay within physical proximity of one another, but it does mean that you can't run away and hide from me.”

You shuddered. “That sounds scary.”

“It would be if you didn't fulfill your end of a bargain, but you never made a bargain.” He lifted his baseball cap up to card a hand through his blond hair before replacing the hat on his head. “Which basically means that we're stuck like this. We are emotionally and metaphysically bound to one another.”

There were a lot of words that had been said over the past few minutes, and most of them were difficult to wrap your head around. The worst truth of all was the brief, but very real sensation you had felt when Changmin had tugged on the invisible link between the two of you. That weight on your chest from earlier… had that been the “bond” settling into place?

“How could sitting on a chalk pentagram even” —you waved your hands around as you attempted to formulate words— “how was all of that possible? I thought Ouija boards were fucking toys?”

“I told you guys that you shouldn't play around with those things.”

“Well, how the Hell were we supposed to know this was going to happen?” you countered. The four of you had done some innocent fooling around, and now, you were “emotionally and metaphysically bound” to Changmin. Whatever the fuck that meant.

Changmin sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “We can undo it. I think.”

You think? “How?”

“I—I need to do some research,” he said with a grimace. “I've never heard about instances like this and I didn't think it was even possible. I thought I could just intercept the call—”

Intercept the call? You shook your head. “I need you to start from the beginning, but slowly, as if you're speaking to a five year old.”

He opened his mouth to retort, then stopped abruptly.

A change in expression flickered across his face. It was brief, almost instinctual. You swore it looked like mild irritation, but it was gone before you could be sure. “You should probably answer the door.”

“Answer the what?”

You nearly yelped at the sound of loud knocking at the apartment door. Confusion pummeled you first, then you were swearing. “Chan.” You forgot he was stopping by.

“I'll be right back,” you said, moving toward the bedroom door.

“It’s fine. I need to go looking for answers.” Changmin stopped you before you went out, and you couldn't suppress the violent shudder when the invisible line in your chest pulled taut. “And Yn? Don't do anything stupid.”

You made a face at him from over your shoulder. “I'm already soul-bound to you by accident. How much more stupid can this get?”

He threw his hand up in the air. “Just don't do anything Hyunjae or Shuhua would do. Actually, just don't tell any of them about what I just told you.”

Why not? You were about to ask when you heard Chan's voice at the door calling out to you. Another swear fell from your mouth and you rushed out into the hallway to rip the door off its hinges.

Chan startled as it opened, his eyes going wide like a deer's in the bright hallway lights. There was a loose blue hoodie hanging over his green dinosaur pajama pants. He had his phone in his hands along with a paper bag undoubtedly carrying the legendary banana muffins. “Oh, hi. Sorry, is someone here with you? I thought I heard another voice.”

You braced a hand around the doorframe. Don't tell anyone. “Ah,” you winced, the lie curling up your tongue, “I was just on a call with a friend and he wouldn't shut up. Sorry about the wait.”

“No, it's no worries,” he insisted with a classic, easygoing smile. It made the adrenaline in your veins calm somewhat. Chan had always been a good presence to be around. There was something perpetually warm about his persona that made you want to stay in his orbit. “Oh, right!” He handed you the bag. “These are all yours. Mingyu says to let him know how they taste this time around, as always.”

As you accepted the bag, your face lit up like a Hollywood billboard. “I can guarantee that they will taste as divine as always. Tell him thanks for me” —you glanced up sheepishly from the paper bag— “and also, thanks for stopping by. I wish I was home earlier so you didn't have to drive all the way back.”

You didn't realize your face had contorted into a grimace. If only you had come straight home instead of indulging your friends’ curiosity tonight. Then, you would have been here with the banana muffins and one less soul-bond to worry about; and you would have been none the wiser to the fact that one of your college friends was a demonic entity.

Hadn't Changmin mentioned that you were now emotionally and metaphysically bound? Did that mean he could feel your emotions?

The smile had long since slipped from your face, but now your hands grew cold. When you got your muffins just now, did he know—

“Yn?” You perked up at the sound of your name. Chan's hand froze midair, then retracted back to his pocket. Concern shone on his face as stark as day. “Are you okay? You look like you just forgot you have something due tonight,” he chuckled half-heartedly, but the sheen in his eyes told a different story.

“Oh.” You forced out a laugh. “I'm fine! Yeah, I was just reminded of something. Actually—uhm, I shouldn't hold you up for any longer. It's getting late.”

Chan stared at you for a moment longer, and for that seemingly infinitesimal second, you feared he could see the invisible knot tied to your ribcage. “Right,” he said suddenly while shaking his head. “You should get some sleep.”

Your hand reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for dropping by again.”

“Wait” —his palm pressed against the door to keep you from closing it— “are you sure you're okay?”

It was as if your guilt was written in plain words across your forehead: No! I just became magically handcuffed to one of my demonic friends! And I also sat in a pentagram salt circle less than two hours ago! Please help me!

You channeled all your energy into a convincing smile. “Yes, I promise I'm okay. Have a good night, Chan.”

It was enough. That easygoing beam graced your eyes once more and he took his hand back. “Okay,” he said, “good night.” He waved to you as he turned on the ball of his foot, and you waited until he turned the corner before closing the door.

Your entire body deflated as you let out a rather dramatic sigh. That sigh turned into a loud groan, which eventually escalated into a borderline scream.

Like a woman possessed (would possession have been a better outcome than this?), you slunk back into your bedroom with your treasures in your grasp. “Hey,” you muttered as you kicked the door closed, “I'm… back.”

The room was vacant. Not a trace of the blond demon could be found.

“Son of a gun.” You settled into your desk chair and pulled out one of Mingyu's stress-baked muffins. As you peeled the parchment wrapper from the muffin's bottom half, you attempted to process all that had occurred within the past two hours. Every time you rewound the events, you met the same dozen or so questions. If only Changmin were still here to answer them, but he mentioned something about going off to answer questions of his own, including ones pertaining to undoing this rather inconvenient situation you’d found yourselves in.

“He should have stopped us,” you garbled between bites of banana chip muffin.

Your chewing came to a gradual halt as you marinated on that thought. “He… should have stopped us.” Why didn't he stop the four of you? If he had stopped you and suggested a movie instead, or any other activity for that matter, you wouldn't be here and he wouldn't be stressed.

He should have stopped you since he knew what you were getting yourselves into.

You crumpled the now empty muffin wrapper in your fist. Ji Changmin had far too much to explain to you.

PART II: THE CONSEQUENCES

IF THERE WAS NO REST FOR THE WICKED, Changmin didn't want to be wicked anymore. By popular perception, he and half his heritage were “evil.” While his father was a human from this mortal plane, his mother hailed from one of the nine circles of Hell. They'd fallen in love, conceived a halfling child, and the remainder was history.

“You look like shit, Ji.”

Changmin's eye twitched as irritation needled beneath the surface of his skin. “Thanks,” he drawled, not bothering to spare Lee Chan a glance. If he had limited energy reserves, he wasn't about to spend a drop on giving Chan the time of day.

Plus, Changmin was more than aware of the thick shadows that lingered beneath his eyes like fog clinging to cobblestone. He had woken up from his ninety minute power nap, trudged into the bathroom, and faced his own gauntness in the mirror. Why the fuck did Lee Chan think it necessary to point it out?

Chan's stare lingered on him through the practice room's mirror for a moment longer until he was called away by Kwon Soonyoung. Only then, when Chan's attention was passed elsewhere, could Changmin release the breath he was holding onto.

It was one thing that Changmin couldn't shake the offputting energy he felt whenever he was near Chan; he could stomach being on the same dance team as the guy, even though they each harbored an unspoken dislike for one another; but it was another thing entirely that he and Chan were both friends with you. The two boys attempted to be civil in front of you because your comfort was more important than their pettiness, but currently, said truce was nowhere in sight just as you were.

Simply, there were less reasons for him to be amiable today, including his thinning patience. Last night’s debacle had drained him of his energy. He was a halfling, not a pure-blooded demon. Additionally, his mother wasn’t a high-ranking demon by any means, which basically screwed him in the area of power stores. He had magical capabilities, but it could only handle so much. Answering ritual calls and creating soul bonds required a decent amount of power, which was why they were usually only answered by the more powerful demonheads of Hell. They enjoyed making human suffering a pastime.

Tacking onto that Changmin’s brilliant idea of warping into and out of your room last night instead of using his own two feet, as well as spending hours digging through the occultish corners of the internet, added all together to make for one exhausted, stressed, and grumpy halfling.

A presence—this one being far more welcome than the previous one—appeared by Changmin’s side in the mirror. “You really need to start going to bed when you say you're going to bed,” Juyeon said as plopped down onto the laminated hardwood to stretch out his calf muscles.

Changmin followed his lead onto the floor, but opted to slide into a left split. “I was tossing and turning the whole night,” he dismissed with an innocent lie. (Well, “innocent” was subjective.)

“You should try this new matcha that Hyunjae got from his hyung. He brought it back from his recent trip from Japan.”

For a second, Changmin let the words feed into his head one by one: matcha… from Hyunjae… from Hyunjae's brother… which one was he? Oh, the one who just got back from Japan, Sangyeon. When his tired brain finally caught up, he gave a nod. “What about it?” he asked, raising himself up to switch his hips into the right split.

Juyeon looked on with envious admiration, even if this was the thousandth time he stretched with Changmin. “It’s really refreshing and has a bit of a caffeine kick, but it's not as awful as coffee. Indigo likes it, too—said something about it being one of those rare finds that you can only get in the secluded countryside or something.”

Changmin paused. Juyeon's girlfriend Indigo was someone Changmin got along with well, but that wasn't why he was slightly interested in the matcha now. What Juyeon wasn't aware of was Indigo's witch heritage. Just as Changmin was hiding in plain sight, so too was Indigo. And if she recommended some countryside matcha powder, he was going to be inclined to try some.

“Yeah,” he coughed, “sure. Sounds like it wouldn't hurt to try.”

Pleased with the outcome of the conversation, Juyeon smiled and nodded. “I'll get you some later today then. Hopefully it'll help with the weird headaches you've been having, too.”

Changmin had nearly forgotten about those with everything that had happened. He'd recently been struck by random headaches; there were no patterns to their appearance, and no remedy—human, at least—that could soothe them until they faded on their own. He'd failed to ask Indigo about it because, well, he didn't think it was important enough to act on. But if this tea could help him out, then it would be taking out two birds with one stone.

Practice went on swimmingly. Though Changmin could only boast about his ninety minutes of sleep, when it came to dance, it was as if he was possessed. This was a hobby—a passion—that never failed to drive a fire through his veins. It didn't matter if he'd had the worst week in the history of worst weeks; when the music started, he was cued in, and he gave it his all.

As a river of sweat poured down his face and the room suffocated with the humidity of everybody's labored breathing, practice came to an end. Changmin hiked his duffle bag over his shoulder and poured water down his throat. Juyeon wasn't far behind as the two of them waved goodbye to their teammates and headed out.

Saturday mornings usually occurred in similar fashions: dance practice was held from 7AM to 10AM, then Changmin and Juyeon would return to their apartment to wash up; Changmin would then eat about an elephant's worth of food while he caught up on lecture recordings—unless he had something else to distract him.

In the case of this Saturday, as soon as Changmin had finished showering, he plummeted face-first into his pillows and was out like a light.

Demons could dream, one must understand. However, the demonic body tended only to dream when it was well spent—exhausted. Demons liked to correlate a weakness with having dreams, because foolish visions meant that one was unable to control their own mind. Control was rather important when dealing with magic.

Even if the dream was about, say, something real and occurring right at the moment Changmin was asleep—it was still considered a dream. Because he had not yet learned to leash his mind from meandering down his fresh soul bond, he found himself in a body that was not his own.

Yours. It was your body.

Was this real, he wondered, as he soaked in the familiar sight of your bed, the desk, and the closet space. He'd been in here just last night—albeit, in a fashion that wasn't agreeable—and he didn't expect it to change, but it did look real.

It was like he was actually sitting in your room, except he wasn't able to move or control his own body. The heart that beat in his chest was yours, the blood that pumped in his ears was yours, and the breath that fell from his mouth was yours.

He inwardly sighed as you adjusted your position at your desk chair. What a predicament he found himself in. He could feel the ache in your back from the uncomfortable piece of furniture beneath you, as well as the knots in your shoulders. (Did that mean you had a bad night of sleep?)

Though, it wasn't all bad, he supposed. He did adore the smell of your perfume lingering in the air and clinging to the sheets, the walls, the furniture… You would never know this of course, if he could help it.

You were currently reading a book—for class or for enjoyment, he hadn't the foggiest. The left side of the novel you clutched in your hand was riddled with colored sticky tabs, and you had the back of a ballpoint pen pressed between your lips. (His lips? …No, this was a precarious line of thinking.)

Changmin followed along as you read. Well, he tried. Whoever designed the layout of this book must have had perfect vision and no sympathy for someone visually challenged. The font size was likely less than ten point, and good grief, the line spacing—

“Holy shit.”

He paused. Right, that was you and not him.

You leaned forward and brought the book closer to your face as you read over the line again.

“Oh my gosh, Eliot, you incredible, talented woman.” This earnest compliment was swiftly followed by a colored tab to mark the passage. Changmin was about to read what you tabbed, but your eyes went down to the desk to scrawl a thought onto a post-it note. “Dorothea, you poor, poor soul. Casaubon needs to get the fuck over himself—you are fifty, dude.”

Changmin, frankly, had no clue what was happening. But he didn't entirely mind, because the pure joy that fluttered in your (his) chest was enough to keep him satisfied. There was something oddly serene about being in your sphere of presence, and in this state of being, that kept him at ease.

The stress of breaking this soul bond ebbed away like the receding edge of a tide.

Alas, all good things had to come to an end. Changmin couldn't tell how much time passed before you bookmarked your place with an index card and pulled your phone toward you.

12:04PM was what your lockscreen read.

Oh, so he was definitely catching up on sleep, at least.

Wait—had you not eaten lunch yet? The unmistakable void in the pit of your stomach…

Yn! Eat lunch, you silly girl! Eat—

“He could just be away from his phone,” you muttered to yourself. There were a few app notifications waiting for you, but each dismissal was fueled with mild disappointment.

Who were you talking about, he wondered.

A flash of bitter annoyance pierced his chest at the memory of who you'd been texting last night with that big smile on your face. However, any of that sentiment was dashed clean away when you pulled up your text chain with him, not Lee Chan.

Changmin's heart sped to a gallop as he watched you swipe out just as quickly as you'd checked in. The reason was two-pronged: one, you were wondering about him; and two, you had texted him while he was currently asleep and he did not know how to wake himself up.

Ji Changmin, he chastised himself, you're not only intruding, you're also inadvertently ignoring her.

He could understand that he put you (and abandoned you) in a worrisome place last night. If he could tear out the strands of his fried, blond hair he would.

You were his friend, were you not? He cared about you, and this soul bond wasn't only stressful to him, but to you as well. Maybe ignorance really would have been bliss in this case.

Your phone emitted a low vibration as it rang. Changmin had missed the moment you decided to call someone. Juyeon's contact name and photo was displayed in the middle of the screen, and he answered before the call went to voicemail. “Yn, what's up? You're—you’re not mad about last night, are you?” The wince in Juyeon’s voice was audible.

“No, I'm not mad,” you promised him as you leaned your cheek against your palm. “I was just wondering if you know where Changmin is. I texted him an hour ago and he hasn't answered yet—I guess I'm just a little antsy.”

Shuffling, then, “Oh! Changminnie's sleeping. He didn't sleep well last night, so as soon as we came home from practice, he was knocked out.”

Relief made your shoulders sag. “Ah, okay.” A smile, self-deprecating in nature, curled up on your mouth. “No worries then. Thanks, Juyo.”

“No problem. I'll let him know to call you once he wakes up.”

“No, it's okay” —you began putting your materials away— “have you had lunch yet? I can swing by with food; I haven't eaten yet.”

“Really? I haven't eaten yet, and Changmin hasn't either. I'll split the cost with you.” Changmin wished he could say that he would also split the cost. Why were you coming over? He hadn't gotten a good look at the texts you sent before.

(It had to be because you wanted to see him, right? To talk—of course to talk and not for any other reason.)

You stood up from your chair and stretched out the stiff muscles in your back. “I'll be by in—maybe twenty or thirty minutes?”

“Sounds great!” Juyeon chirped. “Thanks Yn-ie. See you in a bit.”

You let out a small laugh. “Yeah, see you.”

As the call cut off, Changmin was left with a daunting task: to wake himself up. There didn't seem to be many options as to do this. If demonic dreaming was activated based on lack of control, that meant he had a lack of energy. Thus, if he couldn't yet regain control, it could only mean that he was still tired.

There were a great many things that he had yet to figure out about this kind of magic. It wasn't like his mother ever anticipated he would need to know about it, so she never explicitly taught it and he never asked.

He was kicking himself in the head now.

Meanwhile, you had busied yourself with getting ready to leave. You'd selected a jacket from your closet, swiped on a thin layer of lip gloss, and spritzed yourself with that divine-smelling perfume. It made his toes curl and his chest feel fuzzy.

Just as you were filling your purse, your phone jolted with an incoming call.

Changmin soured as he saw the caller ID through your eyes and felt, not disdain, but pleasant surprise. He couldn't fathom what you saw in Lee Chan, but he never said anything; you and Chan knew each other longer, after all. It wasn't his place to say anything, especially when his reason revolved around something as subjective as a “vibe.”

“Hi Chan,” you greeted when you accepted the call.

It was funny—a dull, but annoyingly familiar pulsing appeared in Changmin's head. It beat steady against his cranium, hard and relentless. The longer it continued, the more it hurt. Could you feel it, too? The sensation was recognizable at this point after so many instances of the random headaches popping up. Was he seriously getting another stupid headache during a dream?

He winced to himself, but suddenly felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach when he heard you audibly grimace.

Was this headache yours or his? Should he be worried?

“What was that? Are you okay?” asked Chan from the other side.

Changmin/You clenched your jaw as your vision went spotty for a moment. Your hand whipped out to catch yourself against the table.

Panic seized his chest as you muttered out a reassurance, though unconvincing. The invisible string that tied Changmin to you tightened, stealing the breath right out of his lungs. It was as if his own physical body was yanking him back.

He was waking up.

No, he thought, no I need to make sure she's okay—

Distantly, he heard yours and Chan's voices. Your words between one another were muddied and distorted to Changmin. Before he could even begin to understand what was happening, his eyes opened.

“I could smell lunch through the door,” Juyeon sang to you in greeting as he eagerly beckoned you into the apartment.

You chuckled, shucking your shoes off under the rack by the door. In your hand, you held onto a large bag containing a box of delectably fragrant fried chicken and fries. Oh, glorious sodium and cholesterol. “Yeah, well, imagine my suffering as I was driving over here with it in the car,” you mused.

Juyeon locked the door behind you and took the bag out of your hands.

It was another thing to return to the site of last night's ritual. You'd been in this apartment dozens of times before, but it was difficult to look at the specific spot on the living room floor where the chalk and salt had been. Even if the vacuum cleaner had taken care of all that remained, you couldn't help but choose to sit on the end of the couch farthest from that spot on the floor.

“Oh, could I get a glass of water, by the way?” you asked Juyeon as the two of you began taking things out of the bag to lay them out on the coffee table. “I was feeling a bit lightheaded earlier.”

Juyeon's eyebrows creased as he straightened to head into the kitchen. “Shit, yeah—of course. You drove here while feeling like that? What if you passed out, Yn-ie?”

You snuck a fry into your mouth, murmuring your thanks as he handed you the cup of water. “I'm fine,” you insisted with a vague wave of your hand, “it was just the blood rushing up to my head, I think. And besides, you were already expecting me and I was hungry.”

“I would have woken Changmin up and dragged his ass out of bed.” Juyeon settled onto the couch with you and cracked open the can of Sprite he'd gotten out of the fridge. “You know, Changmin's been getting these random headaches, too. I guess not exactly nausea, but you guys have gotta be more careful,” he waved a fried potato at you as he said this.

The irony could not escape you, and you failed to keep a sarcastic smile to yourself. Uh huh. Be more careful, you say? Too late for that. You took a ginger sip of the water. “Is that right? Maybe he just needs more sleep or something.”

“That's what we thought at first,” Juyeon hummed, idly scratching the back of his neck, “but they happen no matter what he does. There's not really a noticeable pattern.”

You wondered if it had anything to do with his demoness. You couldn't be too sure because you hardly knew anything about his species yourself, but that could explain the seemingly randomness of the headaches. Perhaps it was another question to add to your list.

“Huh.” You frowned. “Well, I hope they go away for him soon.”

Juyeon nodded solemnly. “Yeah, same. Hyunjae's gonna bring over some matcha for him to try… oh, hey! You like matcha—do you want some?”

“Sure, I'd love—”

Your phone buzzed violently in your jacket pocket. A laugh of disbelief flew from your mouth when you saw the caller ID, and you flashed the screen at Juyeon. “Speak of the Devil.”

Juyeon chuckled as you answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, I'm so sorry I missed your text.” His voice, rough from sleep, was accompanied by heavy breathing and the sounds of fabric shuffling in your ear.

You nearly choked, but you remembered that Juyeon was none the wiser to the weird spike in your heartbeat, nor the reason for it. “It's all good; I was being impatient. Juyo said you didn't sleep well.” Your eyes darted to his closed bedroom door and wondered why he hadn't come out yet.

“Yeah.” A brief pause. “Are you—are you okay?”

“Of course, I'm okay,” you drawled, glancing over at Juyeon. “Why? Should I not be okay?”

“No, I mean—” His voice in your ear and behind his bedroom door overlapped one another like two ocean waves colliding along the sand. His door ripped open.

Changmin stood on the threshold with his phone in one hand and the other clutching the doorknob. He was in a loose white T-shirt and sweatpants, a thin layer of sweat making his cheekbones shine. His eyes, a wild creature of their own, landed on you—all of the tension in his body melted away.

He exhaled and sank against the doorframe, ending the call. “Hell…” he muttered under his breath as he dragged a hand through his hair.

Concern had you rising to your feet. “What? What's wrong?”

Changmin closed his bedroom door behind him and collapsed onto the couch somewhere between you and Juyeon. “Bad dream,” he grunted. “How much are we splitting?” The latter was asked as he shoved a fry into his mouth and pulled out the Venmo app on his phone.

You and Juyeon exchanged glances over the blond head: what just happened?; you think I know?

Juyeon sent you a shrug. “Well Yn?”

Now their focus was on you. You took your seat again and reached for your glass of water. “Ten bucks each.”

All of the food that you brought turned into crumbs faster than Cinderella's carriage at midnight. Considering all three of you had barely eaten all day, it was expected. At some point, Juyeon dipped out of the apartment to meet someone for a group project, so that left you and Changmin alone. It was the perfect opportunity to get what you came here for.

“You left pretty abruptly last night,” you said to him as you returned to the couch with a full glass of water. Changmin stood nearly opposite to you, his back against the wall by his bedroom door. He also nursed a cup of water. “And I have some questions.”

He let out a small laugh, his lips pressing his dimples into his cheeks. “I'm sure you do. Sorry, I realized that after I left,” he admitted and raised his free hand up to grab the back of his neck. “So shoot.”

It was strange, you thought. There was no way this guy could be a demon, but was that leaning into stereotype? Last night, that feeling you got when he looked at you from beneath the shadow of his cap… your hairs had stood on their ends and you couldn't shake the spike of adrenaline in your bloodstream. It had been undeniable.

But here he was with a pretty, boyish smile as if he was a completely different person.

“What did you mean by 'intercept the call?’ What exactly happened during the ritual last night?” you asked.

The smile slipped from his face a little, and his eyes flitted over to the spot you had been sitting twelve hours ago. “Like I said,” he began, “you opened a line to Hell—like a phone call, basically. I channeled enough energy to answer it before anyone else from Hell could. And instead of, y'know, appearing in front of you like another demon would, I was already there and just chose to stay quiet when the candles went out.”

You straightened. “So the breeze in the room was your doing?”

Changmin cocked his head to the side with a wince. “I think so? At least, I can't control it yet. Think of it as a physical manifestation of power.”

A physical manifestation of power—you imagined last night's scene from Changmin's point of view, where he stood in the far corner. He would have focused his energy toward the breach between the worlds, and that fulfillment swept through the room like a gust of wind. But then what about all the other times? That moment wasn't the only other instance of a cool breeze on your skin.

When you brought this up to him, Changmin pressed his lips together. “Ah. This?”

On cue, something lightweight and cool brushed past your cheek. Your hand darted up to cover it, and you looked over at Changmin who arched a brow at you. “You get creepier and creepier the more I know you.”

His mouth burst at the seams with a smile. He ducked his blond head, shaking it. You were missing some kind of joke here. “Don't speak too soon,” he said. When he raised his head back up, he ran his tongue over his smile. “It happens when I want it to, it happens when I don't want it to. Just depends.”

“Great.”

“I'll get it under control,” he promised.

You leaned forward onto your knees and pressed your mouth into a slight pout. “Is there anything I can do to bug the shit out of you? This seems like it's only entertaining for you.”

“Well,” Changmin shrugged helplessly, “that's kind of the point of why demons started to do this. They find humans entertaining, and they also like to hold them accountable. The line” —he gave a gentle tug at the invisible string you still couldn't find— “is an insurance policy.”

“Saying it like that just implies it's that much harder to work your way around it.”

“Pretty much.” A grin split his face, and you were struck by the ease you smiled back without having meant to. “Don't look too excited now.”

You flattened your face and voice. “I'm thrilled.”

Before Changmin could respond, you suddenly remembered the main question that plagued you last night. You cleared your throat, your fingers dancing around the sides of your glass. “By the way… why didn't you stop us last night?” You watched his facial expression and how it was carefully knitted into something blank. “If you knew what was going to happen, you could have insisted we stopped, and we would have. Why let us get to this point?” you asked, gesturing between the two of you.

Changmin's throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I was pretty confident that I could intercept it, so there wasn't any real risk with doing the ritual if you guys wanted to have fun. I just didn't count on…” He lifted his right hand, where the pinkish scar was left on his index finger.

He hadn't counted on you getting cut and sealing the bond.

You pinched the space between your eyes. “Ah. My clumsiness has now doomed me to be metaphysically handcuffed to you.”

“I wasn't going to say it…”

“Oh, go to Hell.”

Changmin laughed. “Only if you come with me.”

Heat rushed to the surface of your skin. Sometimes, his mouth moved too fast. You snuck a glance at him through your fingers while he sipped on his water. If you peered close enough, the tips of his ears were flushing to a light pink.

He lowered the glass from his lips, and a crease formed between his brows. “Also,” he said carefully, his tone starkly different from less than a minute ago, “I do have another side effect to add to the list.”

Your stomach flipped. Not another thing—

“I may or may not be able to occupy your physical body when I'm dreaming—”

Changmin grimaced as the bottom of your glass banged against the wooden coffee table. That expression only deepened at the wide-eyed fury—fear—on your face. “And when I was asleep earlier,” he continued on, dooming himself to walk the plank, “I kind of intruded on your reading session, and when you called Juyeon, and when Chan call—”

“Can I murder you? Would that harm me in any way?” you cut in.

His mouth was open, but no words were coming out.

You stood, abandoning your seat on the couch and your water glass, to step across the room toward him. “Because if I could,” you said while pressing the back of your knuckles to your lips, “I can rid myself of the absolute creep of a friend I have!”

Changmin's eyes widened as soon as it hit him—your hand. Your hand hit his shoulder.

He bolted.

“Hey, let's talk about this, Yn-ah!” he exclaimed and dove into the kitchen to duck behind the counter. Some monstrously high-pitched scream left his mouth as he scrambled to stay out of your reach.

“We are talking about this, Changmin-ah.” You charged after him, chasing him around the counter and back out of the kitchen. If you didn't respect Juyeon like you did, you would have fully embraced becoming a bull in a china shop.

Your fist hit the solid plane of his bedroom door just as it slammed in your face. You let out a sound suspiciously close to a growl. “You possessed my body without my consent!”

“It's not like I consented to it either! It just happened!”

“That's not a valid excuse, you panini head!”

“I don't want to possess your body!” he insisted through the door with his voice going higher than the Eiffel Tower. “Why would I want to possess your body? I don't wanna be around when you and bestie Lee Chan gush about Star Trek.”

On certain occasions you really wished you had Superman's laser vision. Then you could burn through this stupid piece of door and roast a demon. “You're not helping yourself, Ji.”

A beat passed. “Look,” he huffed. “It only happened because I was exhausted as shit, okay? I really had no control of it, I swear on my life.”

You remained still with your arms braided across your chest without a word coming to mind.

“I didn't see anything sensitive, I promise, and my body woke me up and pulled me out of it when you got that really bad headache.”

Huh? That bout of lightheadedness… was that related to how the connection was severed? Or at least, hindered? You brushed the curiosity aside; weren't you supposed to be mad at this guy?

“Which was also why I was worried when I woke up and asked if you were okay,” he added in earnest. He did look worried like you were going to die when he woke up…

You glared impetuously at the closed door to the point you were sure even the wood grains were two seconds from apologizing to you. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “But you're not fully off the hook; I just won't use the kitchen knives.”

A choking sound filtered through and you felt the corners of your mouth tug upward.

“What can I do to make it even?” Changmin asked, though he continued to remain behind the closed door.

Frankly, there weren't many things he could do to even the score unless you chose to be creepy and sit in on his private moments. You shuddered—you’d rather not. Those were private for a reason. Maybe he could burn his eyes out with bleach. (Kidding… ish.) “I don't know,” you said half-heartedly, ”tell me a secret.”

A moment of silence passed. “I thought it was hot when you asked if you could kill me.”

Not even an ounce of shame with this one, huh? “You're sick. I'm leaving.”

For the second time today, his bedroom door ripped open. “No, wait, I was kidding! Yn, I was kidding.” (He was not kidding).

You stopped, half-whirled around. In your periphery, he stepped out of his room, but refrained from getting too close. When you turned around fully, the red that dusted his cheekbones was unmistakable. Unfortunately, seeing him flustered was enough for you at the moment.

With a feigned, heavy sigh, you motioned to him. “C'mere.”

Changmin perked up like a confused puppy.

“Come here,” you repeated with more urgency this time. You curled your hand toward you to beckon him closer.

He crept closer to you. There was a gleam of uncertainty and suspicion in his eyes as you continued to gesture at him closer… and closer still. Your heart throttled against your ribcage; your physical body was even unsure of what exactly you had in mind.

Only once his face was close enough you could count his eyelashes were you satisfied. You could hear him gulp.

And maybe you let the moment linger too long. His gaze flickered away from your eye contact for a heartbeat, eyelashes fluttering as he considered something out of the bounds of friendship.

You raised your hand up to his forehead and flicked him between his eyes. Hard.

Changmin yelped and fumbled backward to the boisterous sound of your laughter. He rubbed his forehead furiously where an angry, red mark formed and smarted. He snarled at you, “Not cool!” His face was nearly as red as the mark… oops.

“That's what you get!” you countered with an accusing finger. “Now. Promise me you'll never purposely possess my body in your dreams, you perv.”

A grumble came from the depths of his throat—agreement. “I never did it on purpose,” he mumbled, slapping his hand with yours in a binding handshake. He sounded like a teen boy who's gaming console was just taken away.

“And promise me that you will take care of yourself, so that we can get out of this binding thing and so that you don't accidentally possess me.”

“Didn't you offer to get possessed last night?” Changmin stiffened as the words left his lips. “I didn't mean that! Don't get the kitchen knives!”

His giggles pierced the air, sharp but endearing, as he scrambled back into his room with you clinging to his heels. “Or get the kitchen knives—it’s kind of hot.”

“Ji Changmin.”

PART III: THE RELATIVE

WHEN YOU APPEARED IN YOUR 8:30 biopsychology lecture on Monday morning, you had nearly forgotten that the world had not completely turned upside down when you bound your soul to Changmin’s. No one else but you and he knew about it, and it seemed he was determined to keep it that way. Nonetheless, when you settled in your usual seat about midway up the lecture hall, close to the exit on stage right, you looked into Yeh Shuhua’s terrifyingly beautiful eyes and almost blurted your secret.

It was because of that reason, and the fact that she was one of your close friends. She was one of the participants of the ritual; it was only right that you disclosed to her the consequences of all your actions. However, the reminder from Changmin echoed in your head like a dull heartbeat: Don’t tell any of them. Don’t do something stupid like Hyunjae or Shuhua. He realized that ‘stupid’ applied to him, too, right?

“You seem antsy,” were her first words to you as you finally decided on how you would roll up your jacket. It had taken a couple tries and configurations before you settled on just draping it over the chair behind you.

You straightened in your chair. Perhaps subtlety was not with you this morning. “My coffee was too strong,” you said.

She snorted, a bright and unassuming sound, as she pulled her laptop out from her bag. “Honey, you don’t drink coffee.”

…Right. You let the words sink in to properly register your dumbassery, then settled on the most basic excuse known to college students. “It’s too early for this.”

“Amen.” Conversation saved.

When you first signed up for this class, you were under the impression that it would be a riveting insight into the brain and its inner workings. Alas, your professor from Psych101 did you a disservice by testifying to Psych210’s interest factor, because it was entirely lacking in interesting things. The majority of what was being discussed in lecture could be read about via the slides, but unfortunately, participation was mandatory. Even worse was that this class was the prerequisite to the neuroscience class that was actually interesting.

You didn’t like to critique the teaching skills of a professor who was meant to research and not to teach, but you were going to for the umpteenth time.

Beside you, Shuhua barely swallowed a yawn and hid the last bits of it behind the lid of her coffee tumbler. She took a sip, then leaned over to you. “I’m pretty sure I learned all of this in freshman year biology.”

“Is that right,” you murmured. You hadn’t taken the introductory biology series because you were only minoring in psychology, whereas Shuhua was a neuroscience major. “You must really be suffering then.”

Her head slowly touched down onto your shoulder. “Tell me about it… by the way, did you hear about the house party that’s happening on Saturday?”

You hummed. “Who’s hosting?” House parties were usually something you needed to be a part of a friend group to be invited to. Though, that was usually the case for all parties in college, you’d found out. Fraternity parties were oftentimes exclusive to Greeks, or if you knew a frat brother or sorority sister. Other parties were spread by word of mouth and required an entrance fee that amounted to a fraudulent sum of money. Thus, if you went to any party, it was either a house party hosted by a friend of a friend, or one of your friends’ birthday parties.

“Hm… it’s my family friend’s kid’s friend group.” She paused, then clarified her statement, “Yangyang. You know Yangyang, right?

You made a sound of acknowledgement. “Isn't he friends with Xiaojun, Kevin, and Yuqi, that group?”

“That's the one,” she chirped. “But he only lives with Xiaojun and a couple other guys. It's a house in one of the neighborhoods nearby.”

“I see. Are we going?”

“Of course we are, silly.” Shuhua blindly patted one of your hands and you imagined that her eyes were likely already closed. You and your friends were accustomed to forcing one another to socialize outside the group from time to time; it made the college riptide a bit easier to swim through. “I just didn't know if you were aware or not yet.”

“Well, now I am,” you chuckled.

“You sure are.”

The remainder of the lecture went by as dull as it usually did, and 9:30 could not come faster. You and Shuhua bumbled out of the packed auditorium among the crowd of others filing out.

A yawn stretched your mouth open as you checked your phone. “You've got a class after this, right?” you asked Shuhua.

She nodded. “Unfortunately. Do you wanna have lunch together afterward?”

“Ah” —guilt anchored itself to the pit of your stomach, allowing the urge to spill your secret to dwindle— “I'm actually hanging out with Changmin today.” Neither of you had terribly busy Mondays, so you both decided to do some solution-hunting together, whatever that meant. He just needed to be back by the time his dance rehearsal started.

Her mouth quirked to the side in a slight frown. “Oh, okay. Just you two?”

“Yep.”

For a second, you thought she was gazing right into your soul where the invisible knot was tied linking you to your mutual friend. But she suddenly smiled and blew you a kiss. “No worries! Have fun.”

You blinked, the anxiety lingering. “Yeah… thanks. You, too.”

Shuhua left first to hurry off to her next class while you remained in the lobby. You had fully expected that she would at least ask what the two of you were doing, and you were prepared to come up with another dumb excuse. It wasn't suspicious that you and Changmin were hanging out alone, right? There were plenty of instances where you hung out solo with your close friends.

You brushed it away. It was the paranoia talking.

You headed toward the nearest parking lot. Because you lived relatively close to campus, there was usually no need to drive, but since you and Changmin were going elsewhere in the city, you opted to drive.

As you settled into the front seat, you sent him a text to let you know you were on your way over to his apartment. It would be convenient if you could somehow use the soul-bond to communicate with him instead, you thought as you navigated through campus to a nearby neighborhood. Alas, based on what Changmin told you before, the bond was more useful to him than it was for you. How wonderful.

You let your car run as you pulled up to the curb outside of his apartment complex. Through the windows on the first floor, a periwinkle sheen caught your eye. There wasn’t much doubt in your mind that it was the ribbon Changmin tied to his bicycle. It was his favorite color—not that you knew that for any particular reason, other than the fact that you were friends. It was useful information for birthday cards, was your reasoning.

Before you could meander down some weird mental road of thoughts, the passenger side door opened and closed. Your counterpart was dressed in dark green today: dark green sweater, a darker but muted shade of cargo pants, followed by a matching cap shoved over his blond hair. “Hi,” he said, strapping himself in with the seatbelt and setting his bag down by his feet.

He looked particularly pocket-sized today with the cheeky, dimpled smile on his face and you smiled in greeting. “Hi!” you chirped back. “Where to?”

“An aunt of mine lives downtown. Do you know how to get to Union Station?”

You nodded, tugging the car into drive, “Yup. Wow, she lives down by the waterfront?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. When he did, he ducked his head so you only caught a glimpse of that dimpled smile. “She’s married to a siren.”

Your eyes went wide, and his laugh grew louder. You flattened your expression into a deadpan as heat rushed to the back of your neck. “Don’t laugh,” you muttered. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’d say for you to not pout then, but it’s cute,” he replied with that smile lingering on his face in the form of a half-smirk. He had pulled his phone out to text someone. “I’m only laughing because I had a feeling you’d react like that, and I was right.”

You huffed. “I feel like I’m at too much of a disadvantage around you.”

“You have more power than you think.” Changmin passed you a glance and deposited his phone in the cupholder. He leaned his cheek against his knuckles. “You just need to exercise it.”

“Well, I can’t exactly threaten you with kitchen knives and forehead flicks all the time.”

He shrugged. “That’s not what I meant, but it’s whatever. How was class?”

Changmin, Juyeon, and Hyunjae were all aware of yours and Shuhua’s disdain for your shared biopsychology class. The complaints had filed (flooded) in as soon as the first week of classes were over. You could gab on and on about the boredom that plagued you, but you hardly wanted to be a broken record when there were other things to talk about. “It was fine,” you said, then swiftly moved to something else. “I think I almost told Shuhua, like, twice about the soul bond thing. Why can’t we tell them again?”

“Do you really think they’d believe us?”

You thought about it—about the twin cuts on your index fingers, the unseen string that tethered your souls together, the dream that Changmin had. They would think Changmin had roped you into his regular shenanigans, and in a way, he had. You sighed, albeit reluctantly. “True. But it just feels…” you grimaced. “Is it weird that I feel guilty?”

Changmin shook his head. “No, I’ve had to tiptoe around my mom’s and my true nature around you guys for years. It’s natural to wanna be truthful to your friends, Yn, but some things are better left unsaid.”

“Is there a reason why the supernatural community stays hidden? Is that something I can ask?”

“Of course,” he said easily, turning his gaze out the window. “It’s just that it’s better—safer—for us this way. Humans can hardly handle differences amongst themselves as it is; imagine what would happen if they found that even more species of sentient beings existed, y’know?”

Truth was a difficult pill to swallow. It was a capsule that often found itself lodged in a throat rather than being digested. And even if it eventually managed to make it to the stomach, it sank to the bottom like a body anchored by bricks in a river. There was, unfortunately, much merit to what Changmin said.

Your eyes flickered to your side mirrors as you merged onto the highway. “I see.”

“It’s definitely relieving that at least one of my close friends knows the truth now, though.” He knocked the back of his hand against your arm in a warm gesture, and although you were unable to return the expression or even look at him then, he was looking at you.

Because you and Changmin set off just after rush hour passed, the drive through the downtown scene was relatively easy. The rest of your time in the car was spent chatting about the party Yangyang and his housemates were throwing, as well as Changmin directing you to his aunt’s residence by the marina. His ability to give directions left much to be desired; your car was filled with shouts and bickering whenever he told you to turn too late.

Somehow though, you arrived at the right street, and he even helped you find a parking spot along a curb that didn’t involve ungodly hourly parking rates. You wouldn’t call it a complete redemption, but he was on his way toward one.

“Are you sure it’s cool if we just show up unannounced like this?” you asked him, tilting your head back to peer up at the apartments that towered above you. Some of the windows were left open and their curtains drifted whimsically in the mid-morning breeze; some of the fire escapes were connected by copper-colored ladders, fitting together like a puzzle. You liked to think that complexes like this housed residents who were friendly to one another like some fantasy video game—a pair of friends hanging out of their windows to gossip across the fire escapes, a cat sleeping in the window—that sort of thing.

Changmin stood next to you, but his gaze was turned out to the marina in the distance, the sails of boats in the foreground of the slate blue-gray of the bay water. “Yeah, it’s cool. And we’re not exactly unannounced; I told her we were coming.”

“When?” You followed him in through the front door. The hinges squealed upon use and the door shuddered violently when it closed.

“In the car.”

You deadpanned at his back as you followed him up the stairs. “You’re an awful relative.”

“Don’t all relatives show up to their other relatives' homes unannounced?” he jested. “I’m a model nephew, actually.”

“A model in what standard? Hell?”

He shrugged up ahead, glancing back to pass you a boyish grin. “Yeah, basically. My mom says demons just kind of teleport into their relatives’ homes unannounced.”

“So that’s where your incredible lack of boundaries comes from,” you said and glowered up at him.

You met Changmin on the landing of the second floor and ducked out of the stairwell into the dimly-lit corridor. It was quiet here in the middle of the day, but you could hear the muffled sounds of television programs and voices emanating behind different doors you passed by. The carpet was well-trodden and didn’t kick dust up when you walked, and the overall smell was vaguely fishy and reminiscent of the seafood section of a supermarket.

“Cultural difference,” he replied cheekily. “This is hers, Aunt Jenna’s.” He gestured to the door he stood at with a rusted, gold B29 hanging on its surface just above the peephole.

You tucked your hands into your jacket pockets. “Anything I should know before going in?”

Changmin paused and his face flashed with realization. It translated roughly, but accurately enough, to ‘Uh oh.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but the door beat him to it.

Correction: his aunt beat him to it. Or at least, she was who you assumed was his aunt. Her facial features and bone structure weren't similar to Changmin’s at all, but those eyes—dark like the deepest corner of a shadow; engulfing, embracing, enveloping—her eyes were what made familiarity pang in your chest where the soul-knot sat.

Her mouth stretched into a bright smile. “Changmin-ah! And his significant other, isn’t it—or kids these days say partner instead, hm? Don’t be strangers now; come in, come in!”

What did she just say? You have got to be kidding me.

Too overwhelmed to think, you let his aunt usher you and Changmin in through her front door. You threw—chucked—an alarmed glance over at your counterpart, who could only meet your wide eyes with his own. Shoes were exchanged for slippers, and you were guided toward a couch settled in one part of the cozy living space.

“It’s nice to meet you, Aunt Jenna,” you finally managed to say through the heat flaring up your neck and behind your ears. “But I do have to, uhm, correct you.”

Changmin coughed beside you on the couch as his aunt perched on the coffee table across from you both. “She’s not my romantic partner, auntie. Yn’s just a friend.”

You nodded earnestly.

His aunt’s face flickered from that sunny smile to a more somber surprise. She broke into a sheepish sort of laugh, absentmindedly brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Oh, well how silly of me. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—I got embarrassingly excited,” she confessed. She addressed Changmin specifically, reaching over to whack his knee, “You used the word for lover when you texted me earlier!”

Changmin’s hands rocketed up as both you and his aunt fixed him with pointed looks. “It was a typo and an honest mistake,” he swore. “I haven’t spoken or written in that demonic dialect in awhile,” he said to you, “and the words for friend and lover are, like, one letter different.”

His mouth had pursed into an unconscious pout, and you reached over to flick him between the eyes. Bone against fingernail, and the dense thunk sound the impact produced was quite satisfying.

“Ow! I'm sorry!”

You turned to a rather amused Aunt Jenna. “I'm sorry I did that in front of you. I swear, I won't make a habit out of it.” That remained to be seen, however. How had you refrained from flicking him for his behavior before this?

She chuckled. “I'm sure he's warranted it more than once. It's nice to meet you, Yn.”

“Likewise. You have a lovely home.”

Changmin held his forehead with his hat now sitting in his lap, and his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “This was the worst idea I've ever had.”

“Do you drink tea, Yn?” his aunt asked you, waving aside her nephew's comment. “I'll make us some tea and we can talk about whatever you both came to discuss.”

Tea was served on an elegant tray made of polished dark wood. The color was a deep red, as if it had been dipped in a vat of blood, and was engraved with images of what you assumed to be flowers with long stems crowned with big, beautiful petals. You nursed a Finding Nemo mug between your palms, gently blowing on the steam that wafted out of the aromatic floral tea.

Just the fragrance of the drink was enough to put you at ease. The muscles and knots in your shoulders loosened, your frown lines smoothed over. You took a gentle sip and savored the tangible warmth that streamed down your throat and into your stomach.

You nodded to Aunt Jenna who's dark eyes gleamed knowingly over the rim of her mug. “That's very good,” you said.

“Isn't it? Would you like to take some home?”

Changmin harrumphed from beside you after taking a hulking gulp of his own drink. “Guys, please.”

“Mm yes, yes.” Aunt Jenna waved her free hand flippantly. “Your problem.”

While Jenna had prepared the tea, you and Changmin explained to her how your souls became tied together. Most of the explanation consisted of specific details of the ritual itself, not the circumstances before. You described the physical sensations on your end, and Changmin added in his out-of-body experience.

When your piece was said, it left Aunt Jenna to marinate on all the facts. She took a sip of her drink first. “Well, you're both fools, but you” —she wiggled an accusing finger at her nephew— “especially. How could you be so irresponsible as to let your friends go through with a bargaining ritual?”

Changmin grabbed the back of his neck and hung his head like a kicked puppy. “It didn't seem like the end of the world if they wanted to have fun.”

“I suppose,” Jenna muttered, but not without some sympathy. She was a demon living amongst humans, too, after all. “But look where that's gotten you both. There are just far too many unforeseen variables that could have made this situation ten times worse. You and Yn becoming soul-bound is probably the best outcome, frankly.”

You would beg to differ, but you kept your lips stitched together and attached to the rim of your mug.

“But as for undoing it, I'm afraid there aren't many options.”

You detached your mouth from the mug.

You and Changmin exchanged a glance with one another. He asked, “What are our options?”

Aunt Jenna's mouth pursed slightly to form small divots in the sides of her cheeks. “The one most accessible to you is to bargain with another, more powerful demon to take over your bond with Yn.”

“Absolutely not,” he interjected. “That's out of the question.”

“I guessed as much,” she said, taking another sip. “Then it's quite literally impossible—unless you used cursed magic—but even if you didn't care about facing the hellish consequences, gaining access to a Book of the Diabolical is insanely difficult.”

Though you were completely ignorant to almost everything Aunt Jenna was saying, you weren't so ignorant to her message between the lines: you were fucked. Supremely.

Looking over at Changmin only confirmed what you were thinking. There seemed to be a war being waged behind his eyes as he clutched his mug in his lap and glared at a grain in the hardwood floor. This situation was partially your fault and his, and now, the only thing you could do was to drown in the consequences.

You turned to his aunt. “Then how can we live with it?” In your periphery, Changmin's head raised. “I mean, are there techniques to better control this situation, like on both Changmin's end and my end if we can't simply rid ourselves of it?”

Aunt Jenna considered you for a moment, then nodded slowly. “There are,” she said. “Control is something very valuable to demons, Yn. I don't know how much Changmin's told you—”

You sent him a thin smile.

“—but mastering your own body is one of the most integral things young demons first learn. If you don't have control over your mind and body, then how could you possibly be trusted to control anything else?”

That made sense, you thought. It was a thoughtful principle, too, that others (humans) could learn from. What other parts of demon culture and values were there that these two would be willing to share with you?

Jenna had finished her cup of tea by now and set her empty mug back onto the tray. “So the easiest way, I think, to safeguard yourselves against one another is to strengthen your minds.”

What exactly Aunt Jenna had in mind was meditation. Because you were human and couldn't exactly perform the same demonic energy rituals and mind exercises that Jenna and Changmin could, meditation was the next best group activity. In order to do this, Jenna shut all of the curtains and sealed the living room off from the outside world. The coffee table and sofa were shoved to the edges of the room, while the empty space was occupied by three bath towels and a Bath and Body Works candle.

It was reminiscent of the ritual from That Night, but your heart rate sat a little more stable with the belief that you were in capable hands this time.

The three of you arranged yourselves in a loose triangle around the lit candle, its small flame shuddering at the force of your breaths.

“You can place your hands wherever you're most comfortable,” Aunt Jenna said lowly, softly—a vocal embodiment of the small head of fire upon the candle. “Sit up straight, close your eyes, and breathe in deep… let the darkness envelope you.”

There weren't many moments when you considered yourself petty, salty, or bitter. But at this very moment, you were most certainly all three at once.

“Are you really still mad that you fell asleep?” The question was posed with as much audacity as there was incredulity in his voice.

You didn't have to direct your glaring eyes at Changmin for him to feel the edge. “It was embarrassing,” you grumbled.

“Aw, it's okay. Not everyone has the mental fortitude to meditate.”

And you do? you wanted to snap back like a five year old. Instead, you tightened your grip on the steering wheel and focused on not steering the two of you off the road. “I will literally ditch you on the highway.”

He leaned his head against the window to watch you with a twinkle in his eyes and a toothy grin on his lips. “And I will literally haunt you in your sleep.”

The pair of you were in the car driving back up to the university. You had just left Aunt Jenna's about fifteen minutes ago after the failed meditation session (for you) and her insisting you both stayed for lunch. With your stomachs full and your heads quite literally empty, there was nothing left to do but to return home.

There had been a moment before you both left when Jenna pulled Changmin aside to have a private conversation. You had lingered outside the apartment door, but couldn't hear anything despite it being left slightly ajar. There must have been some crazy soundproofing done on her apartment. A charm, perhaps?

But when Changmin came to join you, you picked up the tail end of their talk. It had to do with Changmin pleading with her not to tell his mom about what happened; Aunt Jenna would only agree if he promised to babysit her kids next week.

That thought made you smile to yourself even through the cloud of salty pettiness in your vision. What was Changmin like around kids? The guy was rather childish himself, but… you wouldn't deny that he would probably be good—

“What are you smiling about?” he mused as he peered out from under the brim of his cap. He reclined his seat back a little and crossed his arms over his chest, settling himself in for the ride back.

You scoffed and forced the smile away. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He hummed. “Methinks it was about me,” he teased and tugged his cap further over his eyes so even his mouth was barely visible. At your silence, he murmured, “Also, I hope you're not bothered about earlier.”

“Hm?”

“I mean—the fact that you weren't able to meditate. And,” he added quickly, “I'm not trying to make fun of you. It's just that that was the only way Aunt Jenna could think that you could safeguard yourself against me. I'm gonna be really good about this, Yn, I swear. I don't—y’know, I don't want anything to change between us.”

Ah. Well, since his hat was over his eyes, you allowed your smile to slip back into place. The weight in your chest was warm, a comforting sort of tightness. You were gradually getting more accustomed to its presence, and at this particular moment, you were glad to be aware of it.

“I believe you,” you said to him. “And I don't want anything to change between us either.” You were friends before the ritual, and you would continue to be friends after it.

You were content with being accompanied by your thoughts and the radio for the remainder of the ride. Your companion in the passenger seat had drifted to sleep at some point when the highways began to grow rather congested with the early afternoon traffic. Changmin had a dance rehearsal in a couple hours, which gave some leeway as to what time you needed to get him back by.

By the time you hit the university district, the sun perched lower in a sky spotted with cirrus clouds, wispy and drifting in the autumn breeze. The filter it cast over the world was a mute gold, warm.

Changmin peered out his side window as you navigated through the busy streets, his face nearly pressed up against the glass because his cap was turned around. There was far too much foot traffic at three in the afternoon, but it was unfortunately a popular time to be out and about for students on a Monday. “Could you drop me off at the sandwich shop on the corner over there?” he asked suddenly, his voice gravelly from disuse. He inclined his chin further down the block, and you had enough time to switch lanes.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmured, glancing over at him. “You don’t want me to drop you off straight at the dance hall?”

“Nah, I’ve got a couple hours, so I think I’m gonna get another bite to eat first.” He rummaged around in the bag at his feet, double checking that he had brought along everything he needed. “D’you wanna…” His voice trailed off as he turned his head up toward you.

You hummed in question and furrowed your brows in concentration to direct your car into a parking spot along the curb.

“Did you wanna come in with me? I don’t know what your plans are after this.” Changmin had one foot out the door, but the rest of his body remained here with you, in the car, as if hesitant to leave just yet. With the brim of his cap turned around, you could better see his face, the hair pushed out of his dark eyes. There was a small smile seated upon his lips, hopeful in the way it curved into his cheeks in the way you always found slightly endearing.

Your hand lingered by your seatbelt. What were your plans after this? Nothing, right? “I mean, if you don—”

“Yn, is that you?”

The voice and the interruption elicited similar jolts from both of you. Your head whipped around on instinct to locate the person who had called out to you.

Crossing the street to you now was Lee Chan. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder, and he waved a hand at you when he caught your eye. But they flickered away from you to someone behind you—Changmin straightened to his full height, his head appearing over the roof of the car.

You glanced back at your counterpart. That smile, so boyish and innocent, had grown an edge.

“Thanks for the ride, Yn,” Changmin said to you, ducking his head to address you. He reached into the car so he could clasp your hand, his fingers clutching yours as he stole your gaze away… they lingered. “I’ll talk to you later, hm?”

You nodded, unsure why you were so dumbfounded. “Yeah, sure,” you stammered out. “I had fun today.”

“Same.” And there was that smile again. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it had softened out at the corners. With a final raise of his hand, he shut your passenger door and jogged off toward the shop.

You blinked as air suddenly filled your lungs again. Had you been holding your breath the whole time? You forgot to wish him a good rehearsal.

A knock on your window had you swiveling your head around. Chan grinned as you rolled your window down. “Hey, what’ve you been up to?”

Not a mention of Changmin, you noted. You were aware of Changmin and Chan’s dislike for one another, and though it caused you a torrent of internal conflict, there was nothing that you could do about it. If they were unwilling to talk about it with each other or with you, then there was no use. Both of them were important figures in your life, so it was just as important that you could keep them both—was that selfish? It seemed that they were able to somewhat coexist, however, if they participated on the same dance team. How did that even work out?

“I was out with Changmin for most of the day,” you said. “We were just… y’know, visiting a relative of his downtown.” There was no harm in saying that, right?

Chan’s expression didn’t even shudder. “Oh? I didn’t know he had relatives downtown.”

Of course, you didn’t. You appreciated that he tried to be civil about Changmin around you, but sometimes the pretense was more aggravating than the petty disdain. “Yeah, they were really nice. We drank tea and chatted a bit.”

“Glad it was a chill time,” he smiled. “Ah, speaking of—I was wondering if you wanted to go visit Chaeyoung noona with me sometime this week? I've been trying to figure out the best time to go see her before midterms.”

You brightened at the mention of Chan's older sister. Though his parents had passed away before Chan graduated high school, he was supported mostly by his older sister, Chaeyoung. You'd heard and seen for yourself the chronic illness that she was cursed with, however. There had been a decent stretch in time when her situation looked much better, but recently, she had been forced back into long-term care at the hospital.

“Yeah, definitely! It'll be nice to see her after so long. Just text me and let me know what day you decide.” The last time you saw Chaeyoung was probably at the start of the past summer break when you went home to see your parents with Chan. Though you and Chan were around the same age, he acted more as an older brother figure to you, likely because of Chaeyoung's good influence.

The golden hour sun glinted its rays into your eyes, and you were reminded of the time. “Oh, don’t you have dance practice soon? Need a ride over?”

“Yeah, I do, but I don’t need a ride,” he said. “I was about to meet Vernon in the cafe down the street though. Do you wanna come with?”

The idea of accepting his invitation crossed your mind, but the ache in your legs and at the nape of your neck were suddenly a lot more prominent than before. You hadn’t even realized how tired you were. “Not this time; I think I'm a little tired. Thanks for the invite, though!”

He pressed his mouth together in slight disappointment, but waved it away with a casual hand motion. “Of course. Drive home safe, then.”

“I will. Have a good time, Chan.”

Chan returned the sentiment back to you, but instead of leaving right away, his lips parted another time. He paused, concern gleaming in his eyes—or was that the setting sun? You couldn’t tell the difference, but there was something he couldn’t quite articulate with words that his facial expression was desperate to reveal to you instead.

You frowned. “Something wrong?”

He let out a small laugh and brushed away the thought. “No, don’t worry about it.”

Are you aware that you've been cursed?

Aunt Jenna's words echoed in Changmin's head ceaselessly throughout the dance rehearsal. They had been subdued slightly when he was asleep in your car earlier, but consciousness tended to surface more nightmares than the unconscious state. Even in the bright light of day, those shadows found a way to creep in and force him into some horrific tunnel vision.

No, he wasn't aware that he'd been cursed. How could he?

Out of everything he thought she pulled him aside for, that was the last thing he expected. The look in her eyes—those dark irises that mirrored his in depth—had been stricken by a grave worry. Those all-knowing eyes, far surpassing his in experience, had taken one look at him coming in through the door and determined something horrible had happened.

A curse?

You haven't been feeling strange lately? She had grasped him by the shoulders, her hands firm in their iron grip. Any strange aches and pains?

The headaches. He told her about the random, spotty headaches that had been plaguing him recently. It hadn't occurred to him at all that they could even be a side effect for a curse.

I've heard some strange things have been going on to the demons in your area. The curse has subsided for now because of your half-humanness, but…

Changmin could fill in the blanks.

His appeal to Aunt Jenna about not telling his mom about any of this included both the soul-bond and the curse. Based on what his aunt told him, there have been demons in this area who have been forced into critical conditions by an energy-stealing curse. That would explain his frequent headaches and his increased exhaustion. Though, the headaches had been on the decline as of late, which coincided with the other part of Jenna's warning.

He was at odds. He couldn't simply sit around and wait for whatever maniac was at large to suddenly stop. He and all the other demons around him were sitting ducks. Worrying about the soul-bond was one thing, but he supposed this now took priority.

Changmin hunched over his bag in one of the darkened corners of the practice room. The lights had been turned down slightly as their four reserved hours drew to a close. It was a hard night, but the sweat, heat, and adrenaline was a delightfully addicting mixture.

Absent-mindedly, he rubbed a palm over his chest. The invisible knot there that linked you to him tightened at the attention. He had made a habit of this over the course of the past few hours; the physical sensation of the string tugging grounded him and kept him from disappearing into his head too much.

Could you feel him on the other end? He was certain you could if he made it obvious. If he tugged just right—

“Ji. I need to talk to you.”

The only sign of surprise Changmin let Lee Chan see was the raising of his eyebrows. “I don't need to talk to you.”

“It's about Yn.”

Changmin's movements froze. He let go of his bag's strap and zippers with a sigh, then straightened up to meet Chan eye to eye. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What about Yn?” You were his problem now, whether you liked it or not.

Chan's eyes narrowed at him, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I don't know what you think you're doing with her, but you need to stop. It was enough that she's friends with you—”

He couldn't help but scoff. What the fuck is he going on about? Changmin's mouth twisted into an incredulous smirk, the points of his canines peering out from under his lip as he jabbed his tongue into his cheek. “I was wondering when you'd finally drop the Nice Guy act.”

“This isn't about me putting up a front,” Chan quipped in hushed tones. He wouldn't have done so if he wanted to make a scene. “This isn't even about us not liking each other. My problem is that you're roping Yn into your—your fucking bullshit.”

Changmin furrowed his brows. “You're being vague and dramatic, Lee Chan. I really don't have the time or the patience for this.”

“I know who you really are, Ji.” In any other context, those words in that order would have made Changmin bark out a laugh.

Changmin shuddered as he sized up Lee Chan in a different light. It was almost funny how perspective could change everything. In the daylight and bright fluorescents, Chan was a model kid with a charming smile and unshakeable charisma. He cared about you and watched over you like a brother. But without the presence of light was when Changmin was most afraid of what he saw. It was not because he was afraid of the dark—the shadows, frankly, were a demon's ally—it was because the dark did something to Chan in the same way blood infested clear water.

Chan's mouth was set in a firm line, and nothing about his facial expression or stance gave even an inkling that he was bluffing.

“I still have no fucking clue what you're talking about,” Changmin replied lowly, scooping his bag up and brushing past Chan.

He went to find Juyeon. The organ in his chest pumped his blood wickedly fast through his system; the blood thundered in his ears, loud and deafening, like an oncoming train. Aunt Jenna was in his head, you were in his chest, Lee Chan was at his back.

Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom—

He and Juyeon were out the door in a flash, but Changmin glanced backward—because we always turned toward that which was capable of our demise; that was survival instinct—and he flinched when Chan's eyes caught his again.

Changmin let the door slam behind him as he stole into the cold night. If only the darkness could hide him from whatever just happened.

read part two here (if the link isn't there yet, refresh out of this page and it'll be linked at the top)

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[erwinsvow]

rafe thinks you’re spoiling him.

it doesn’t seem that way to others, maybe, with the obviously pampered way about you—expensive jewelry that floats on your skin and never having to wait more than a few days for something new that’s caught your eye. at first you were awfully shy about it, flushing if he showed up with a new gift before a date and hiding your head in his arm if he offered to buy you the shoes you kept staring at in the store. you’ve grown into it now—which pleases him, a lot—mostly because no one else knows how much you’re spoiling him. 

making sure you have whatever your little heart wants is the least he can do to repay it, he thinks, looking down and into your concerned eyes, your hand resting softly against his chest.

“rafe? did you hear me?” you ask, and he tries to snap out of it, really he does, it’s just getting harder around you. 

“hm?” he murmurs, still a little dazed.

“i think we should stay in tonight,” you repeat, moving your hand so the back of it is flat against his forehead, and then his neck. “you seem warm, i think you’re getting sick.” 

he feels weird, not because of the cold—he already expected that since wheezie and sarah were coughing and sniffling up a storm earlier that week—but from the way you look distraught, just from the idea that he might not be feeling well.

“aren’t your stupid friends comin’ tonight-”

“who cares?” you interrupt, hand coming down to his to guide him upstairs, since you know he won’t budge unless he’s dragged. you get him into bed a little later, running your fingers through his hair until he falls asleep with one hand and canceling your plans with the other. when he wakes up, you’re not there, and he jerks upright, hand reaching for his phone to call you. the door opens and his body relaxes instantly, falling back into the pillows you had arranged carefully for him, bottles of water and gatorade and cough medicine in your hands.

you make him drink it, and you don’t even look grossed out while he’s coughing up green stuff or drooling onto the pillow. he hears your soft laugh and the feel of a damp towel on his skin—and he thinks in his delirium that this must be what getting spoiled feels like.

the next week he’s back in business, at some house party with kelce and topper trying to sell double to make up for being out of commission last week. you float around with your friends, nursing one of those canned seltzers that taste like juice to him but are enough to get you tipsy. when you find him after maybe thirty minutes of being alone you curl up on the couch, your feet settling on his lap and head leaning on the armrest. you are a little drunk—he can tell—but he stares down at you intensely, because he’s a little drunk too. 

he’s thinking some sappy shit, about how pretty you look like this—dolled up and giggly from the alcohol, your short dress showing him lots of soft skin that he wants to kiss. you sit up when his hands move to your knee, focusing on him with that sweet, concerned look. he wishes you wouldn’t—it makes him want to fuck you right here, infront of all these people, because he can’t stand how it makes him feel.

“are you okay?” you ask softly, your own hand resting on his shoulder.

“why wouldn’t i be?” he asks, taking another sip of his drink. you look relieved when he says it.

“nothing. just checking,” and then you lean back again, smiling again. 

you do that again, he notices, a few weeks later—the morning after another party, a longer one. he dropped you at home because he had shit he needed to finish up, but you call him first thing when you wake up. he listens to your calming voice on his phone.

“did you sleep okay?”

“yeah, kid.”

“did you have water yet? and a tylenol?”

“yes, kid.”

“oh-okay. good. i have to check, i worry about you-”

“get your ass ready. takin' you to the store.”

you agree, if not a little tentatively. you worry since you don’t want rafe to think you’re only with him since he spoils you like this, and you tell him as much. 

“y’know, we can just go to the movies. or the beach, i don’t even need more shoes at this point-”

“thought you girls always need more shoes?”

“maybe before i met you, rafe. this is just silly, let’s go get ice cream instead-” he stops your sentence with his hand on your face, fingers squeezing your cheeks together.

“pick out a dress, and let me rip it off later, yeah?” my way of saying thank you. 

“yeah,” you squeak. you pick out the first dress on the rack and wait in anticipation.

[genandguice]

── 𝜗𝜚 blue flower 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ summary: 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 & 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳. 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘪𝘵

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ warnings: 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴/𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘥𝘶𝘣𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ wc: 1.2k

“hey!”

the voice nearly makes you trip over your porch steps. any man’s voice calling out after you in the dark would stall your heart, but this one baits, hooks and reels it with less than a syllable. deep, velvet baritone, laced with permanent dejection, desperate for affection. begging, the same as his eyes beg when you turn to greet him.

he lived in the house beside you, just as rundown as yours, just as cheap to rent. he lingered on his own stairs, cigarette in hand, watching you with eyes so blue they glowed in the night. you didn’t know him, not much anyway. you knew his name was james, you knew he worked on cars, that he was at least 10 years older, that he sold you pot, & that the wrinkles on the corners of his eyes made your cheeks heat.

“haven’t seen you in a while,” he says, drinking up the sight of your big, pure eyes.

he had been thinking, maybe it’s good that you weren’t coming over to buy as much anymore. maybe you were on a better path, as far away from him as possible. a little girl as sweet, smart and beautiful as you didn’t need his poisoning.

but then he saw you.

hobbling down the street, just drunk enough to feel safe walking alone so late and vulnerable. he’d seen you hobbling up his stairs the same way so many times before, always in your prettiest little outfits, needing that soothing high after a night out. those eyes looking up at him as you giggle, bashfully asking him to roll it up, tipsy fingers too clumsy to do it yourself.

taking a seat while he rolled inevitably led to him offering another drink, which inevitably led him to learning you were a chatty drunk, in great contrast to your usual reserved, cop & hop manner. which inevitably led to him growing fond of you.

you were dolled up nice tonight. hair cut. curves silhouetted by the street light.

how could he stop himself?

“c’mere,” james tilts his chin up, beckoning you over with the hand that lifts to bring his cigarette to his plump lips. your heart pounds as you cross the small distance, throbbing quickly surging between your legs as you come before him, towering over you, his eyes raking over your body. the rum flowing through your veins does no help; heating your body and lowering your inhibitions. that little voice in the back of your head that normally told you he was dangerous growing quieter until it was nowhere to be found.

“come closer. what, you scared’a me?” the accent that coats his words somehow coats his laugh too. you can’t keep your shy smile down as you join him on the stairs, avoiding his eyes, breathing in the smell of his cigarette and his sweat. his dirty, calloused hand comes to your chin, lifts you up to meet his eye.

“you’re quiet tonight.”

you can’t trust yourself to speak. your mind is filled with him, neurons, synapses, receptors all lit up and flashing at his touch on your skin. and then it’s gone, he steps away, scratching his head.

“you still smoke?” he asks, his eyebrows raising in annoyance at your silence, but the way his eyes glint, you see that same pleading in them you always had, searching for the cure to some cruel curse of perpetual tragedy, and found the true source of his annoyance.

“yeah,” your voice comes out soft with the new weight of the ache in your heart, competing with the ache in your core. “sorry i haven’t been around. i’m broke,” your slightly slurred words, laugh, and bluntness confirm your activities for the night, and manage to break a smile from him.

“well you know,” he licks his lips as he contemplates his next words, “you’re always welcome to come hang out and smoke with me. free of charge.” he says, hand coming to rest on the railing behind you, intoxicatingly close. your pussy strains as if you were magnets just out of reach of each other.

even up close he towers over you, makes you feel delightfully vulnerable. he could snatch you up and carry you inside with ease. whether you liked it or not.

“that’s a big investment,” you giggle, and the lilting tune strikes him right in the gut, snaps something inside him.

“we could work out a deal.” he says, voice dropping and slowing, rumbling from his throat like a vintage engine. he doesn’t hide the way his eyes scour your lips, your cleavage, visibly darkened when they meet back up with yours. “down payment type situation,” his hand comes to caress and rest on your waist, smoothly drawing you closer to him.

“james,” your eyelids flutter as you find yourself close enough to smell the beer on his breath. “what- what do you mean?”

“you know exactly i fuckin’ mean,” he says, gripping your waist to keep you close as his other hand leaves the railing to slide up the back of your thigh, disappearing under your skirt. he leans to speak lowly in your ear, “don’t play stupid, girl,” he kisses you there as his rough hand pushes your panties to the side, soaking up your gasps at the way his finger spreads the wetness leaking from you.

“see,” he chuckles against you, “ohhh, you want it,” he groans as he slides his finger into you, holding it there, feeling the way you clench around him, shuddering a curse under his breath.

he strokes your walls, fondling you purely for his own pleasure, and it makes your legs weak.

“god you’re so fucking wet,” james tributes, dick swelling and twitching in his pants. his free hand slides down your waist to grip your ass, grinding his erection into your hip, his finger quickly becomes less than enough.

“that’s why you’re so quiet, huh?” he laughs in your ear as his sticky finger slips out to rub your clit. “can’t think of anything except how badly you need to be fucked?” you whimper at his words, gripping the sleeve of his shirt, his public assault on your throbbing bundle of nerves quickly powering up your electric crash.

he groans as you gush around him, feeling how your creamy arousal drips down his hand. “so what do you wanna do, baby?” he asks, as if it were a real fucking negotiation, as if you weren’t sliding your cunt on his sloppy finger. “wanna fuck me for a half pound?”

when he’s met with only crescendoing whimpers, his hands retreat.

“fuck!” you cry, barely able to brace the first searing wave of having your orgasm suddenly ripped away before james is aggressively lifting your chin, hand tight on your jaw, your needy whines shooting straight to his stiff cock.

“tell me you want me,” he pants, those pleading eyes locked on your pure ones, voice softened, before he harshens again- “and mean it. tell me you want me to fuck the brains right outta ya pretty little head.” you know what he needs.

“please, james,” your hands grasp his biceps, doe eyes welling up, pussy fluttering with your orgasm still on the horizon. “i need you.”

[h4untedgrl]

My Doll | k.ys

-♡ genre/au: established relationship, boyfriend!yeosang x girlfriend!reader, softdom!yeosang x sub!reader

-♡ warnings: bondage/shibari, oral (f rec), pet names (sangie,baby,doll/dolly)

Yeosang has always been quite the gentle lover. Treating your body like art. A masterpiece in his eyes. He loved to adorn your body, buying you clothes, lingerie, jewelry. You are his doll. His oh so precious doll.

“Y/N baby, where are you” Yeosang spoke from the front door. “Coming, Sangieee~” You respond from the room you shared, getting out of bed and heading to the door to greet him properly.

You approach him with open arms, “I missed you Sangie” His arms wrap around your waist, his grip slightly weak. “Can I try something new with you tonight?” He whispered in your ear. A cold shiver runs down your spine. “Like what?” Your head tilts giving Yeosang a slightly confused look. “Do you trust me..?” He looks down at your frame. “Yes..” you smile at him.

“Would you let me tie you up doll?” His gaze darkens. A rush of blood floods your cheeks, “I would.” He smirks at you, leading him to grab your hand leading you to your bedroom. “Sit on your knees for me baby” You nod at his command, as he heads to the closet. “How long have you been waiting to ask me this for?” You question him softly. “Quite awhile, I just wasn’t sure on your answer baby” He answers with a pink rope in his hands.

He starts to unravel it as he approaches you another smile appears on his face. “You’re gonna look so beautiful doll” He sits behind you starting to wrap the rope above your bust. “I’m doing a box tie on you baby, it’s going to restrict your arms” He says as he places a kiss along your jaw. Your cunt can’t help but to tingle at the sensation of the slightly rough rope against your skin.

Yeosang finally finishes the box tie, getting off the bed to admire his work but most importantly…you. “You look so beautiful like this doll” His words lingers in your mind for a second. “My perfect doll” You bite your lip, “Just kiss me already Sangie”

He wastes no time placing his lips to yours, closing the space. His hands finally finding your waist before laying you down softly. “I can’t wait anymore” Yeosang blurts out before he swiftly puts your legs on his shoulders, placing small kisses around your pussy. “Please Sangie…” you whine, before you can even think another thought he’s sucking on your bud.

Your back arching up at the pleasure, how you wished to tug at his hair. “Taste so good” he spoke against your pussy, the vibration of his words made you go insane. “Please Sangie, wan’ you to fuck me” And as much as he would love to keep teasing you he couldn’t bring himself to not do as you wanted.

He unbuckled his jeans, pulling down to the floor before turning you around. "Ass up dolly" Yeosang helps you adjust to the position. You wiggle your hips against him "Oh baby you're so eager for me" He says as he align his dick with your folds. "Mmph~ fuck Sangie" You moan as he starts to fll you up. His hands find security on your hips, forcing you to take more of him. "Feels so good baby" Yeosang whines as he finally bottoms out his pelvis meeting yours.

The pace speeds up, the sound of skin slapping fills the room. Yeosang's nails dig into your skin before he moves his right hand to play with your swollen clit. "Fuck! Sangie you feel so good!" He throws his head back at you comment, feeling your tight pussy clench against his cock. "Love this pussy, so wet for me" His thrusts only going faster as he proceeds hold onto the rope thats binding you.

You feel yourself starting to get dumb around his cock. Only stupid little babbles escaping your lips. "My dolly going cock drunk already?" He teases lightly "Sangie~ 'm gonna cum~" Your pussy sucking his cock. "Keep doing that baby and I'm gonna cum too" His voice cracks.

You unravel around his cock, your legs trembling at the band in you stomach snaps. "Oh my god Sangie' 'm cumming" Leading Yeosangs' thrusts to become messy as his release nears. Quickly exiting your pussy to paint your ass with his milky white seed. "Fuckkk~" Yeosang prolongs his moan before quickly moving to find a towel to clean you up.

"Dolly... that was... amazing." He says out of breathe. You can only hum in response. "Let's untie you now"

-♡ taglist: @vampzity @scarfac3 @dvrktvnnel @dollywoo @planetjaeyun @yyaurii @cypher-03 @desirehorizon

[kiwi-on-ice]

Sugar daddy headcannons with Ashe, Hanzo, Sombra and Lifeweaver with fem!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics present in some, sex toys, just general filth

Notes: Listen, sometimes a girl just needs someone to pay them to be pretty, okay? Just some silly headcannons of the characters I think would spend the most money on their partners.

Ashe:

Oh baby, she’s the DEFINITION of a sugar daddy. Nothing on earth can stop her from spoiling you.

New clothes, new nails, new accessories, new car, new hairstyle…all bought without a second thought and a slap on your ass. I mean if you’re gonna be the special doll of the leader of the deadlock gang, you’re gonna have to look the part.

Especially if she’s planning on having you sit on her lap during a meeting. Wants your nails done and a new dress on you so everyone can look on in jealousy that you’re hers.

Yes that also extends to lingerie. She’s gonna buy you the most expensive types, with different colours, textures, everything. Typically as a present, an apology for when she goes away for one of her heists or a business meeting.

But it doesn’t stop there, she’ll get you anything just to keep you happy. Any nerdy interest you have, or food you’ve always wanted to try. She’s a generous woman with her money, but only for you.

And hey…maybe she does expect a little sugar in return, but it’s not like you’re complaining. When she’s deep in your cunt, strap pounding away as she groans, buying one that stimulates her clit the more she thrusts into you.

Definitely the type to coo at you “awe baby, you bein’ good for me? For your sugar daddy? Gonna give me some sugar so I keep spoilin’ your fine ass?” while you’re gasping for air at how good she’s railing you.

Yeah she ain’t calling herself a sugar mommy, no no she’s your sugar daddy, and you know your place.

Hanzo:

Yeah he’s definitely into being a sugar daddy for you, especially while he was still part of the shimada clan.

He’s a busy man, and a busy man needs some stress relief. So having a pretty thing like you certainly helps those urges after a shitty day.

Kinda nonchalant about spoiling you, tossing you a wad of cash and demanding you to get something pretty to wear tonight, or to get your nails redone after one chipped off.

He doesn’t spend a lot of money, so he might as well spend it on you, if you’re good that is. Stay well behaved and don’t mouth off and you’ll get rewarded.

Always has a catch though. If he pays to get your nails done, he always wants a demonstration that night of how they look. Which almost always involves your pretty fingers wrapped around his dick, while he gets out a gruff “they look nice angel” as you pump him.

Or if he buys you a new car, so he tests how good you can drive it by fingering you while you drive around some backroads. After all, if he’s gonna buy you a pretty car, gotta make sure you won’t crash it and wreck it, right?

But hey if your pussy gushing around his skilled fingers means you have to stop the car, he can think of another way of proving you deserve the vehicle, which is how you’ll find yourself bent over the seats with his cock in your mouth.

The man is always buying you lingerie, because those are gonna be your permanent underwear now. Every time you undress, he expects to see one of the pretty sets he got you, so he can peel them off himself. Sometimes if you go to a formal event, his hand may go wandering up your dress to feel the material of your panties to make sure.

Definitely isn’t into being called a sugar daddy though (father issues and all that), so best stick to sir.

Sombra:

Another serial lingerie buyer. Loves hacking into your online wish lists to get you things, but lingerie is her fav. Yes she will be buying purple sets the same colour as her hair.

Also gonna buy you bodysuits too, lace ones with matching stockings and garters; all of it. She’ll leave it in a nicely packaged box on your bed (and mostly likely watch your reaction through the cameras she had you install in your house)

She’ll make you send her pictures and videos of you in the clothes she buys, will save it to her phone’s folder titled ‘my investment💜’. If she’s feeling in a particular mood, she’ll text you instructions on what she wants you do to in the videos, like how to touch yourself or what to say.

But she’s not shy about buying you anything that you want, or more importantly anything she thinks you need. This includes the best electronics on the market, phones, laptops, headphones, tablets, anything. All encrypted of course, the only person who should be able to hack into your stuff is her.

She might tease you by calling herself your sugar mommy, but not with a serious tone. She knows that you’re more to her than just a sugar baby. And she knows that it’s not just her money that keeps you around, you’re addicted to her.

And she proves it, by having you sit in the apartment she pays for, in your pretty purple lingerie she got you, bouncing up and down on a dildo she sent you, in front of your new phone as she watches from her computer set-up, a smirk on her face at how obedient you are. And hey, if her fingers find themselves on her aching clit, who’s gonna stop her?

Lifeweaver:

Nghhhhhh I’m going feral. You know this man has money, if his family's wealth is anything to go by. And he’s gonna be spoiling you to death.

Honestly it turns him on to buy you the finest things in life, especially if you aren’t used to such luxuries. Just watching your eyes light up at what he’s bought you, at what he knows you deserve, has his dick rock hard.

He’ll most likely get you jewellery the most, the finest he can of course. And he obviously takes note of your preferences; if you only wear silver, the silver it shall be, or if you only wear gold, that’s what you’ll have on your neck and fingers and ears.

If it’s a necklace he’s bought you, he’ll insist on putting it on for you. Securing it around your neck, he’ll lean in to press kisses along the back of you neck and shoulder, worshiping you. If he’s bought you a ring, he’ll kiss from your knuckle up your arm, spurred on by your giggles.

Nothing is too much for you, even if you’re too shy to ask for what you want. If he sees your eyes lingering on a particular bag or necklace or outfit, he’ll make a note to get it for you later.

Will insist you try everything on for him that night too, your pretty dresses and tops and skirts and leggings. Will have you do a twirl so his eyes can roam your entire form, before giving you the sweetest, most indulgent compliments.

And then you’ll probably find yourself sat on his plush bed in front of the mirror, as he’s on his knees eating you out like a man starved. Murmuring against mouthfuls of your cunt to look at how pretty you are in the mirror. Instructing you to repeat it, to tell him that you deserve the best things and that you’re the prettiest girl in the world as you gush on his tongue.

Definitely does not like the term sugar daddy, as it implies he’s only buying you things with the expectation of sex. But I mean, if you really want to call him daddy, he’d do anything to make you feel good.

[riddlessecretss]

Train ride with Mattheo Riddle:

• You CANNOT tell me he would not bombard your phone with selfies.🤣

• Your passcode being his birthday>>

• Fucking him in front of his friends because you two don’t care.

Omg the way he looks in this photo is just majestic.

“Y/nn! Hurry up, I don’t know why you brought that suitcase for this year.”

“I’ve got a dorm to myself this year which means I’ve got more storage. And I’m going to use it.”

He chuckled and helped you with pulling the case up from the platform. “Thank you baby.” You thank him with a kiss on the cheek. You start looking for your assigned seats and get the window and middle seat. Opposite you is Theodore and opposite Mattheo is Tom. You guys lost Tom and Theodore a while back while you were smoking and flirting with Mattheo.

You have a seat but sit on Mattheo’s lap so you can cuddle. You are always tense about the train since your older brother left the school and doesn’t go on the tram anymore. But messing around with Mattheo makes it better.

Theo didn’t get enough sleep last night because he had girls over, of course. He fell asleep first so you decided to take a photo.💀

You and Mattheo couldn’t stop laughing at how mad he looked even when he slept. When you got to know Theo you would learn that he’s probably the sweetest Slytherin out there. But he doesn’t like to show it.

But you were too busy still laughing at him to realise Blaise and Enzo had been editing photos of Tom and Draco. You open your phone to the gc to see these.

Tom👺- That is not funny! Just you fucking wait tonight Lorenzo Berkshire.

Enzo🌺- I take it back!!

Tom👺- Too late.

You- BAHAHA🤣

Draco🌝- I CANTT

Blaise🏋️- Draco don’t think your safe💀

Mattheo❤️- Oh shit😭 the first one is baddd buddy.

Draco🌝- My father will hear about this!

You get tired after all the messing about with Mattheo so you decide to take a nap. Which results in another photo added in the gc.

Enzo🌺- Aww

Theo🇮🇹- And they laughed at me for sleeping!

You wake up from the smell of liquor and w33d. Mattheo passes you the joint. “Thank yo-“

“Any snacks for the remaining journey?”

For three years in a row you and Mattheo buy nearly everything and throw it around the carriage to share. You and Mattheo have taken upon yourselves to be the parents of the group whether your responsible or not is not important. You all get high as you arrive to school.

Dumbledore’s greeting speech is always a bore and you have to sit through all the new first years hat sorting ceremony. Mattheo has got his hand on your thigh the entire time.

“Can you stay quiet for me doll?” You nod as he slides his hand up and reaches under your skirt. You try and keep a straight face while Mattheo’s hand is on your pussy. He starts rubbing your clothed cunt and eventually speeds up. Before you get to cum Mattheo moves his hand away. Tease. You take a drink to help you cool down. His hand starts to creep back as the boys share a few sniggers in the new years crying over their hogwarts house.

His hand gets higher than before as he sneaks a finger in and curls up to hit your g-spot. A squeal leaves your mouth as you cover your mouth, luckily no-one heard. Mattheo adds two fingers as he adds, “You can be as loud as you want tonight.” You smirk as you remember your good luck tradition to make the room more welcoming is to fuck on the first night.

You squirm under his touch and it isn’t long until you cum in his hand. He hold eye contact as he licks his fingers.

“We have got a new student joining the 12th year!” Dumbledore announces as you all turn your head. The brunette walks up to the hat and already looks like fun, you wanna be her friend.

“SLYTHERIN!”🗣️🗣️

It’s late because I fell asleep. Enjoy and i will prolly make this a series. If I re log a post go and show them some love because these peoples works are impressive! Tyy for nearly 300 likes on a post! Navaiah💝

[sillysowa]

I’m sorry if this is against your boundaries, please say if it is ☺️ But, would you write a Hobie x reader smut but Hobie is kinda like ‘angry’ with y/n bc he’s jealous he’s spending more time with her friends than Hobie so he just one day pulls them away in the middle of a conversation she’s having with her friends maybe to a random room and locks them both in there’s and it’s just jealous Hobie sex its 100% okay if you aren’t okay with writing this! 🫶

I’m completely chill with this in a non-toxic way which is what you clarified in another ask so here you areee~!

JELLY

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER

GENRE: SUGGESTIVE, SMUT

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

WARNINGS: USE OF Y/N, LIGHT SPANKING, SEMI-PUBLIC SEX, CUMMING ON THIGHS, POSSESSIVENESS AND JEALOUSY, FEM!OC THAT HITS ON READER

AUTHORS NOTE: NOT PROOFREAD

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE’S NOT TOO FOND OF YOUR TOUCHY FRIEND

—

You hadn’t told Hobie that your friends would be at the club tonight.

He doesn’t have a problem with you having friends or hanging out with them—but tonight? Fuck no.

You wore the sexiest dress Hobie had ever seen you in, form fitting and the perfect color on your skin—he was practically glued to you. On the walk to this new hidden nightclub he was dying to go to with you, he had a firm grip on your side, his hand occasionally slipping down to squeeze your ass,

“Look so pretty, doll.” He whispers in your ear, making you blush and shyly tell him,

“Stop~” You giggle. He doesn’t, he lives for that embarrassed look on your face as you press more and more against him while you walk, hugging his whole arm close to you. Any man that walked by eyes you in a predatory way, quickly averting their eyes when Hobie stared back, pulled you closer, or snapped at them with a quick,

“Piss off.”

You near the entrance to the club, a restaurant by day. You both bathe in the purple flown of the LED sign before you stand in the short line, waiting your turn.

The bouncer lets the both of you in, and you walk through the narrow hallway into the lower part of the restaurant. It’s small, it’s beautiful, and it’s packed. You nearly suffocate anywhere you turn. Hobie hokds you close, bringing you onto the dance floor and holding you close,

“This place is nice ain’t it?” He smirks, leaning down so you can hear him over the background sounds. You nod, eyes full of life and energy,

“Yeah! This is gonna be a good night Hobes.” You smile in that silly way that makes his heart squeeze. He dances with you, sensually and smooth. When you dance, you take on a persona of sorts—you’re wild, free and absolutely gorgeous. Hobie doesn’t care if your dancing is objectively good or bad, it’s so you, so to Hobie, it’s beautiful. One specific song gets you revved up, twerking to the beat. Hobie comes close to get behind you when he see’s two manicured hands grab your hips. You both flinch and look at the person, and both of you have vastly different reactions.

“Oh my god, Destiny, Hey! What the fuck, what are you doing here?” You gasp, hugging your best friend as your whole friend group appears behind her.

“It’s just pure coincidence! I had no idea you were here!” She exclaims, excitedly talking with her hands. Hobie walks up behind you, his hand slipping around your waist. He says nothing, just looks down at your friends. The girl closest to you, Destiny he now knows, is actually roughly his height. She looks at him with a slightly challenging look, putting on a smile that makes his skin itch,

“You must be Hobie.” She says, no hand extend, no positive tone, no nothing. Hobie just nods,

“Mhm.”

“Y/N, do you wanna get a drink with me and the girls? I’m buying!” Another one of your friends pipes up, all of the gang excitedly chatting and pulling you with them—some gawking over your outfits and some over your boyfriend. Hobie’s left standing there, completely stunned. He tongues the inside of his cheek, his eyes rolling back and his hand sliding down his face, a chuckle escaping his lips,

“Ohhh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…”

—

“So like…is it big?” One of your friends asks as your mid sip of your cocktail, nearly choking on it.

“F-Fuck, yes, guys—yes, damn.” You giggle, embarrassed by all the comments and questions asked about your boyfriend. Destiny is awfully quiet, stirring her drink and staring at you with starry eyes. She’s sitting very close to you, her leg against yours. She occasionally will drag her hand up and down your thigh, but for now it just rests idly on top. You don’t think too much of it as she’s often very affectionate, but you do think of Hobie and how that might make him feel.

Oh fuck, where’s Hobie?

You suddenly remember that you left your boyfriend all alone on the dance floor. Your stomach dropped thinking of how that might have made him feel, and your hairs stood up as you thought about what he might do—all jealous. You had never seen Hobie like that, the idea made your thighs squeeze together and tense.

“Nervous?” Destiny asks, her satin voice derailing your train of thought. You notice all the other girls are talking amongst themselves and now Destiny’s full attention is on you,

“About?” You ask, expression innocent and confused. Before she can speak you notice her gaze travel up, smacking her lips after applying her lipgloss and never looking away. You go to turn, but a large and cold hand comes down into your shoulder—Hobie.

“There you are. Havin’ fun with your little friend?” Hobie asks, his voice husky and deep. You shudder, your eyes flickering down to where Destiny’s hand rests on your thigh, softly rubbing the skin there. She doesn’t stop, just holds eye contact with Hobie.

You feel incredibly anxious—caught in between some kind of cat fight between your best friend that obviously has some feelings for you that you weren’t aware of and your jealous boyfriend who looks about ready to jump her.

Instead, Hobie calm and collected grabs your hand and gently helps you up off the bar stool, leading you to the bathroom. Destiny smirks,

“Nice meeting you, Hobart.” She says with mock interest.

“The pleasures all mine.” Hobie quips, not even sparing her another glance as he drags you through the crowd. Your friends at the bar all went silent to watch the show, whispering the moment you were both out of earshot. Hobie opens the one stall restroom, both of you entering as he kick the door shut behind you, locking it without even turning around and instantly, he was all over you. He scooped you up, your ankles around his back as he kissed you all over your neck and but your ear, whispering right into your soul,

“You’re gonna tell me exactly who the fuck that Destiny bird is back there because that was no friendly touching going on.” He grunts, slapping your ass and making you yelp. Hobie sets you down, bending you over the counter and pulling you up by your neck, your back flush against him. You see yourself in the mirror, and you see Hobie. The low lighting in the purple LED lit bathroom makes him look so fucking good—he’s deep gaze in the mirror, his veiny hand over your neck like a necklace and his large frame towering over yours.

“I-I swear I didn’t know it was like that Hobie. She’s always been just a friend.” You admit. It’s the truth, and Hobie believes you. He knows you’d never cheat on him, but God did the idea piss him off. It got under his skin like nothing else. He grunted, his hand sliding up your exposed thigh,

“No one else gets to touch you like this, I thought you knew that.” He says with a sympathetic tone, sighing,

“I guess I have to remind you, hm? Is that how you want it, love?” He smiles, his voice dark and deep. It sends a surge of desire to your pussy, clenching and throbbing. You whimper as his hand trails up and cups your pussy, his large hand on your back and bending you over again. Hobie webs your hands together behind your back, securing them after he asks,

“What’s your color, Y/N?”

“Green…so fucking green.” You murmur, almost positive you’re dripping with arousal by now.

Hobie laughs gently, pulling your dress up to expose your bare ass. He smooths his hands over it, gently caressing. You relax into his touch, getting too comfortable because he soon slaps your ass, causing you to gasp and cry out,

“C’mon, louder f’me love.” He shushes you, kissing right where he spanked you, before slapping the other cheek, reveling in the pretty noises you make.

He spreads your legs, leaning in and burying his face in between your folds. You gasp and cry out,

“Hobie! Hobie ah~!” Your thighs shake around his head as his tongue darts out, lapping up your arousal. Hobie groans at your taste, sucking your pussy and bobbing his head. He can’t get enough of your cunt, worshipping it with his face. He sucks your clit, sliding two fingers into your hole and curling them just the way you like. He’s doing everything in his power to get you as riled up as possible—and it’s working. The small bathroom is filled with the sounds of your pleasure, and you tremble at his tongue,

“Oh~ Hobie, i’m close~” You whimper, his tongue wet and warm on your pulsing clit. He kitten licks you a few more times before completely stopping, pulling away and standing up. You look fucked out already, too needy to even stand up. Hobie smirks at the disappointed look on your face and the way you clench your thighs together.

He’s never edged you before.

“You’re that mad Hobie?” You groan, whimpering and crying because of how much you want to cum. Hobie just sees it as laughable, undoing his belt and pulling his pants down far enough to free his painfully hard cock. He rubs it against you, graining and throwing his head back. You’re both a horny out of your minds, and you’re loud as fuck—everyone even remotely near the bathroom can hear the exact moment that Hobie finally puts it in.

“Oh fuck! Faster, Hobie! Ah~!” You whine and tremble. He’s not holding back, his pace fast and unrelenting. With every drag of him inside you he grunts and hisses. His long fingers trail around your neck and squeeze it just right, pulling you up against him and whispering in your ear,

“Fuck, say that again, baby, say my name. Scream it f’me.” He groans, his hands moving down to cup your breasts. The sound of skin slapping rings like a symphony in your ears, and tears prick in your eyes from the stimulation.

Hobie’s loud and vocal, just the way you like it, and he smirked at every whimper he was able to draw out of you. Your fingers gripped the porcelain sink, your eyes clamped shut—you knew if you looked at Hobie it would be game over and you’d cum instantly. He has this crazed look in his eyes that you’ve never seen, you think it’s the jealousy pumping straight to his cock.

“Open your fucking eyes, Y/N.” He groans, fucking into you impossibly faster. You feel your pussy clench around his Hobie’s cock, and clearly he feels it too, pulling your hips back and grinding them against him. He fucks you with calculated thrusts, hungry for your orgasm,

“Come on love, no one else can fuck you this good yeah?”

“N-no, Hobie!” You moan loudly. His length, all warm soaked, pumps inside you, bringing you right to your orgasm. The sounds you both make are downright sinful and you feel your eyes roll so far back that you sweat you saw your brain.

“S-Shit…Come on, we’re taking this back to mine.” Hobie speaks right into the shell of your ear, his voice an octave lower than the usual and his cock twitching as he pulls out of you, quietly whimpering from the friction. He groans, his pre-cum dripping over your thighs and legs and down to your heels.

“O-Oh, God…Hobie…you’re so messy.” You moan with a slight giggle, the sight and feeling driving you insane. Hobie takes your hand and pulls your up, leading you out of the restroom. You both weave your way through the crowd and you’re positive there’s no way you didn’t smear his cum on some club-goers. You near the exit and lo and behold, Destiny’s there. She’s holding your purse that you had forgotten. When she sees you, shes smiling at first, but the moment she notices the state of you and the semen coating your skin her lips curl in disgust. She hands you your purse and eyes Hobie in disgust, saying nothing. Hobie just chuckles, waving his large hand at her,

“See ya later, ninny.” He spits with a sense of pride. He’s fucked you up this much and he’s not even done with you, plus he got to piss off your touchy friend—it’s a god damn win-win. And holy shit is he going to wreck you when you’re back home. He can barely wait, Hobie grabbing your waist and slinging up into the sky with you,

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, love~”

��

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You Take (3)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, voyeurism

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every Breath You take (2)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Daylight brings new excitement. 

Your breakfast tasted a little tastier. The air seems to be a little warmer. And the world looks brighter in general.

You smile when you enter the building to start your workday. It’s the first time you feel happy to be here. Something has changed. 

You can’t describe it, but there’s this feeling inside your chest making your heart flutter.

“Y/N, morning,” your colleague chirps and points at your desk. “There was a delivery for you this morning. I signed for you, sweetie.”

“A delivery?” You look at your desk, feeling your heart flutter even harder. There’s a huge bouquet of lilies of the valley and a Pusheen plush. “OH! How’d they know I love Pusheen? Aw, and it’s holding a tiny bear too.”

“I think you’ve got a secret admirer,” your colleague points at the card next to the flowers. “Uh-I had to read the card to know it’s for you.”

You frown. She had to sign for the delivery. If you wanted to, you could call her out, and tell her to not read the card but it’s too late, and you’re so happy someone sent you the flowers and the plush to get mad at her.

“They called themselves B.,” she grabs the card to read it for you. “For the loveliest doll I’ve ever seen. Yours, B.” She huffs as you snatch the card out of her hands to reread the lines. “How can he know that you love lilies of the valleys?”

“I don’t know,” you sniff at the flowers and sigh. “He’s a silent admirer. Maybe he knows me because he’s not a stranger. You know, someone I have known for years.”

“I bet he’s a creep,” she suddenly says. “You should be careful.”

You glare at her. “Why? He sent me flowers and a plush. This doesn’t mean my secret admirer is a creep. Sick creep sent you dick pics or shit. Not nice things.”

“Just tell this to yourself. You must be desperate to be happy about a stalker,” she snaps at you, suddenly not so friendly anymore.” While she turns on her heels you call her a bitch in your head.

“Sweet Pushie, look at you,” you grab the plush and nuzzle it. It smells like cologne, and you sigh. “You’re so stinking cute. No man buying you can be a bad guy.”

“Alpine, look,” Bucky excitedly watches you enter your apartment. You’re carrying the flowers in your hand and the plush is tugged under your arm. “She smiles, Alpine! Look! Mommy smiles.”

He grins at his cat. “I told you she’s going to love the flowers. Roses are boring. Our girl loves lilies of the valleys. Next time, I’ll get her daisies. She’s got some pressed in the big books in the back of her bookshelf.”

Alpine is not impressed. The furball gets comfortable on Bucky’s lap. He meows and goes back to sleep. He’s well-fed and tired.

Bucky watches you walk inside your bedroom to redress. He covers his eyes like a gentleman and waits for you to walk inside the living room to get comfortable on your couch. 

It doesn’t take long before you snuggle into your pillow and wrap a blanket around you. The new plush in your arms you watch your favorite new show.

“Hmm…” he dips his head to find out what you’re watching today. Of course, he hacked into your accounts too. Well, he paid someone to help him hack into your accounts. “The invitation. Sounds…frightening, doll. You shouldn’t watch this kind of movie while being alone.”

Bucky sits a little straight. “Alpine, we need to watch over our doll tonight. We don’t want her to be scared after she watches the movie.”

Tonight, you go to your bedroom, instead of falling asleep in the living room. 

You yawn and rub your eyes. After your movie marathon, you are rather tired and ready to fall asleep while walking.

You yawn and fall onto your bed, to snuggle with your new plush. It smells so good, and you don’t want to miss having it in your arms.

“She doesn’t take good care of herself,” Bucky whispers while covering you with a blanket. He runs his hand over your hair and sighs. 

Bucky had to put something in your water to make sure he could enter your apartment and take care of you at night. How he wishes he could stay and wrap you in his arms. But it’s too soon, and you’d only get scared.

Instead of giving in to his dreams, he refilled your fridge and put a glass of water on your nightstand. He even set your alarm to make sure you’ll make it in time for work.

“Sleep well, my sweet doll,” he kisses your temple and retreats. If he stays for a little longer he’ll be tempted to watch you sleep. “I must go now. If you need me, I’ll be there. You’ll always be safe.”

Bucky longingly looks at you for a moment. He smiles, knowing you will wake up, refreshed and happy. He’ll make sure of it…

The Winter Soldier to his enemies. Bucky to his friends.

No friends. No family. No life.

That was your secret admirer’s life until he found you. Now he has something to look forward to. He can pick you up from work, bring you home, and watch over you for the rest of the night.

Bucky even made plans for the future. He never had plans for the future since Hydra captured him. But now, with you in his life, he has a reason to make plans and to live.

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[adventuringblind]

She's My Princess

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Daniel Spoils his girl... That's it. That's the plot.

Warnings: Soft dom Daniel, Daddy kink, BDSM, Voyeurism (if you squint), bondage, age-play (again, if you really look hard enough), choking

Notes: This is my happy place, right here. Mildly self-indulgent but all fanfiction is so I don't care. I hope the requester likes it!!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

This side of Daniel is something she sees often. He's a soft person and treats her as such. Dotes on her like she's a porcelain doll.

He zips the back of her dress and ties her shoes. He carries her bag to the car and buckles her in. It makes her feel small, entirely to warm inside.

"I'm sorry we have to go out tonight." His plan had been to ravish her until she couldn't think. Until they got a surprise call from Max saying he's in town for a couple days and wants to get dinner.

It had been over a month since they saw Max last, and Daniel had only said yes after he talked with her about it.

Daniel, still very intent on keeping his promise, has been not letting her do anything for herself all day long. She's been spoiled far more than necessary, but every ounce of insecurity only made Daniel more intent.

"It'll be nice to see everyone!" She assures. "I could care less about what we do as long as you're there."

"How did I get so lucky?" She blushes under his gaze and tries to look away, but Daniel's fingers foil her. "If you're good for dinner, I'll make this whole thing up to you later. Sound good?"

"Yes daddy."

He pats her cheek. "That's my girl."

He holds her hand as they walk inside. He pulls her chair out for her at the table of drivers.

Daniel makes small talk with the guys and the WAGS that had come with. She tries, but her mind is focused on Daniels hand sneaking up her thigh.

She tries to ignore when he rubs a finger over the thin lace of her panties. She's mid-sentence and ends up stuttering, but she manages to pull herself together. Daniel teases her about the blush on her face.

He keeps up his antics until dessert when he slips a finger into her, obnoxiously wet cunt. She, not so gracefully, chokes on her water. She makes not a sound after. It's not like they've never done this before. Daniel's just not making this any easier with the way he keeps calling her a good girl in her ear.

It feels like an eternity until they can leave. When Daniel finally helps her out of her chair and guides her to the car.

The drive home takes an interesting turn when Daniel has her sucking him off while he's driving. He's skilled in multitasking. Specifically in the art of fucking her throat and keeping his eyes on the road.

Daniel paints her mouth white during a particularly long light. She gets satisfaction in knowing this is what she does to him. That he's desperate enough to fuck her mouth while he drives because he can't wait.

The Aussie hauls her into the house and throws her onto the bed like she weighs nothing. Which is quite the compliment in her eyes. Her body, in her opinion, should not be that easy to carry.

"You did so good tonight, Princess." He kisses her, open mouthed and dirty. He sucks on her tongue and makes a whimpering mess out of her.

Her literally rips her dress off. A whispered promise to buy her a new one is said against her chest. Right before he swirls his tongue around her nipple, alternating between each side. His hands press into her upper back, pulling her further into him.

"Daddy, please - need you."

Daniel moves lower and settles between her thighs. He makes a point to blow on her on her before flattening his tongue and licking upwards.

Her hands find his hair. An attempt to ground her thrashing body. It makes no difference. Daniel still has to pin her hard enough to leave bruises.

His teeth graze over her clit. He sucks on her in the way that drivers her insane. Until the only word she knows is his name.

"Daddy - need to - pleassseee-" Her eyes roll back into her head as Daniel double down on his efforts. The permission is non-verbal in the way he taps her thigh a few times, allowing no break.

She releases onto his tongue. It's wet and it's everywhere and Daniel cleans every bit of it with his mouth.

He launches upwards to kiss her. She can taste herself on his shiny lips. He doesn't give her a break. Three fingers are jammed into her and she wails.

"You're doing so good baby girl. Taking everything I give you." The sounds he's making with her pussy are obscene. His fingers curl upward, sending her body spiraling.

A hand puts pressure around her throat. She sucks in as much air as she can, but inevitable her vision starts to go dark. Daniel opens and closes his hand in perfectly timed intervals, keeping her right on the edge of coherency.

"Cum for me princess, you can do it. We've gone for more rounds than this before."

Daniel has to pin her with effort this time around. He doesn't stop talking, the roughness of his voice rings through her ears. "Such a good girl for me. Just gorgeous like this, a right fucking messy slut, aren't you."

Daniel moves off the bed to get the rest of his clothes off. She cries real tears at the loss. Still to disoriented to know where he is. "Oh baby, I'm still here. You feeling fuzzy? Needy for my cock?" Embarrassment and shame are nothing to her as her tongue rolls out of her mouth and her head nods yes.

Daniel ties a rope around her wrists and secures it to the headboard. He chuckles as she watches him with glassy eyes and no resistance, just dead weight as he tries to adjust her position.

It takes entirely to long for Daniel to get inside of her. For her to feel his body pressed against her. His hips rutting into her, desperate and dominating. She couldn't fight him if she tried.

The pace he sets is relentless. The free hand not holding him up is rubbing at her clit. His mouth close enough to to brush up against hers, but he's still talking to her. Keenly aware of what his voice does to her. She's not sure what he's even saying, aside from that she's a good girl; his princess.

His teeth latch onto her throat, biting and sucking away at it until she thinks she might actually be bleeding onto his tongue. "Mine, all mine. My perfect little girl."

His thrusts are getting sloppy. She's been pushed past the point of overstimulated and isn't sure she can come again. "Let go for me baby, I know you can. I wanna feel you tighten around me. Can you do that for daddy?"

She's crying again. She cums so hard that it hurts her muscles. The line between pain and pleasure is blurred once again as Daniel wraps his hand around her throat again, completely cutting off her air.

She's choking on her scream. Barely aware that Daniel is painting her insides for the second time tonight. There are no thoughts aside from him.

Calming down is harder than expected. She's still twitching when Daniel is untying her. His hands caress her sides and praise her until she's able to breathe again.

Daniel carries her to the bathroom and gets them cleaned up. She's entirely to out of it, still partially crying and refusing to let go of his hand.

"Feeling good still, princess?" She hums happily as Daniel tucks them into bed. "Go to sleep baby, I'll be here when you wake up."

She curls up on top of his chest. Daniels arms wrapped around her to keep her from falling off him. "I love you, my perfect princess."

[scoonsalicious]

7.3 Major*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (unprotected piv, slight praise kink, slight size kink)

Word Count: 2.8k

Previously On...: You finally got Bucky's dick down your throat <3

A/N: Again, sorry about yesterday, besties! My spirit child took precedence. At least this is a decent-sized, smutty update!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You were pretty proud of yourself, you had to admit. You had no idea how many women Bucky had slept with over the years (and, if you were being completely honest, you really didn’t want to know), but given he was well over a hundred, you figured it had to be a pretty decent number. Yet, here he was, lying next to you, trying to recover like you’d literally just sucked his very soul out of his body. You swore you’d never swallowed so much cum in your entire life, let alone at one time. For a moment there, you’d briefly wondered if you’d be the only person in history to literally drown in cum.

You’d never enjoyed giving your ex-husband head before, but giving it to Bucky had felt almost like a religious experience. He’d allowed you to take your time, to set your own pace, and do what felt natural to you– not just grab both sides of your head and fuck your face like a fleshlight, the way Connor had been so fond of doing. Your mouth was going to be so sore tomorrow, though. It was like having a forearm in there. You laughed quietly to yourself. Totally worth it.

“What’s so funny, doll?” Bucky asked, rolling over onto his side so he could face you properly.

“I was just reminiscing about how huge your dick felt in my mouth, Sarge,” you told him honestly. 

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “Major,” he moaned into your shoulder, “you keep talking like that and you’re gonna get me going all over again.”

You smiled and scooted closer to whisper in his ear. “That cock was so big, I thought I was gonna choke on it, Sergeant.” Bucky shivered and, sure enough, you could feel the appendage in question hardening against your stomach as you spoke. He was insatiable, and you loved it.

“Come back with me to the Compound tonight,” Bucky said. “It’s closer than your place and I’m not going to be able to wait much longer to be inside of you.”

You sat up, torn between being touched that he wanted to take you back to the home he shared with his friends, and wanting to just jump his bones immediately. In the end, being horny won out. “Why wait, Bucky? We’re both already naked, and you’ve already blown one load out here. What’s a couple more?” You reached down and grabbed his semi-hard member, stroking it gently. 

“Fuuuuck,” Bucky groaned. He sat up and placed a hand over yours to cease your ministrations. “Sugar, we can’t,” he said through gritted teeth, as though it pained him to put a stop to your actions. “This is a public park. What if we get caught?”

You threw your head back and laughed at that. “Bucky,” you said through your giggling, “that’s half the fun! Besides,” you said, turning a bit more serious once you saw the concern in his eyes, “it’s after hours on a Sunday night. No one is coming to the park now. And even if they did, what are the odds of them finding us? We’re so far off trail.”

“They could see the lanterns,” Bucky said, “and follow the light. And I just… Nevermind, it’s stupid.” He turned his face from you, embarrassed. You were beginning to love the way he shied from you when he was afraid he was going to say the wrong thing.

You frowned and gently tilted his chin so he was facing you again. “What’s ‘stupid’? Bucky, you can tell me; I’m not going to judge you, I promise.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “I just… don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” he murmured, running his vibranium hand down your shoulder. “You look like a fucking goddess tonight, Major. I want to be the only one that gets to worship you.”

His words couldn’t have had more of an impact on you if you had been physically struck by them. “Bucky,” you whined, pulling him close to kiss him. You had a fleeting thought of self consciousness, that he’d be able to taste himself on your lips, but he didn’t seem to care as his tongue sought entry into your mouth. He kissed you like he was dying of thirst, and your lips were the only source of water for miles.

“Let’s compromise,” you told him once you’d broken apart. “We can blow out some of the lanterns, so we’re not so easy to find.” Bucky nodded, seeming to like the idea of your offer. “Then,” you continued, “you can fuck me under the stars.” 

*

The two of you must have looked absolutely ridiculous, you thought, traipsing around, completely naked, as you collected all of the things that Bucky had brought for your picnic and packing them away into the basket, save for the blankets and some pillows, giggling like idiots the entire time. You wanted to have everything packed up as neatly as possible before blowing out the lanterns, so that when it did come time to finally leave, you wouldn’t risk leaving anything behind because you’d been fumbling around in the dark. You’d both completely forgotten about actually eating dinner.

As you worked, you kept sneaking occasional glances over at Bucky, admiring the way the light rippled over his body. The man was essentially made entirely of muscle, and yeah, you’d seen him naked before, in the confines of your condo, but something about seeing all of him outside, under an open sky, did something to you. It made you feel… feral.

“You okay there, doll?” Bucky asked, causing you to refocus and clear your head. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good. Why?” you asked him.

Bucky smiled as he walked over toward you. “Well, you stopped moving, then got this dazed look on your face, and you were just kind of staring at my dick,” he said. Reaching you, he put his hands on your hips and playfully yanked you toward him. 

You chuckled at his apt description of what you must have looked like. “Just admiring the scenery, Sarge,” you teased. You could feel your desperation for him growing by the second. You took his hand and guided it down your body, between your breasts, down the skin of your stomach, until you had it against your aching heat. 

Bucky took the initiative of running two of his thick fingers between your folds, gathering your copious slick. “Oh, sugar,” he said, his voice almost patronizing, “you’re fucking soaked.” He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked off your arousal. “Shit, you taste so damn sinful. Be a good girl and go wait for me on the blanket while I finish up, alright?”

You nodded and did as he asked. You watched as he quickly finished gathering all the lanterns and blowing them out, one by one, until he was just a silhouette of shadow among shadows. 

“Hey, sugar,” Bucky said through the darkness as he climbed toward you across the blanket. Your eyes were adjusting to the starlight, and though you couldn’t make him out perfectly, you could see him much easier.

“Hi, Sarge,” you replied with a soft giggle as you reached for him. “Come fuck me, please.”

“Oh, doll,” Bucky purred, “I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” He kneeled down on the blanket, resting back on his heels, and, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, he picked you up, positioning you so you were facing him, straddling your legs on either side of his torso. “Tonight, I’m making love to you, Major. Put your arms around my neck.”

You obeyed him dumbly, his words having driven all rational thought completely out of your head. Bucky reached underneath you, putting his hands under your ass and using them to pull you close to his chest. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

You nodded desperately; you were practically dripping for him by this point, but something hit you. “Fuck,” you hissed. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“What happened to my always prepared Girl Scout?” Bucky asked with a grin. 

“I thought we were going out to dinner!” you told him in exasperation. “I didn’t think we’d end up fucking in the middle of the woods! I just assumed we’d end up fucking back at my place, where I have copious amounts of condoms!”

Bucky laughed at that. “Well, maybe we should both start carrying them at all times then, sugar. Just in case. Seems we’re making it a habit of not always gettin’ to a bed in time.” But then his face turned serious. “If you’re worried about diseases or whatever,  you don’t have to be– the serum, it prevents me from contractin’ anything, so I can’t pass stuff on, either. Kind of like a catch-all vaccination. The only thing we’d have to worry about is… well,” his eyes glanced down to your belly. “You know. I can always pull out before I finish, if you want.”

Just the idea of feeling him inside of you, with absolutely nothing between you, invaded your thoughts and filled your mind like a thick smoke, reaching every crevice of your brain until it was all you could think about. To actually feel him cum inside of you… “Don’t you dare,” you said, a little more sharply than you intended. “Pull out, I mean. Fuck, I wanna feel you, Bucky. All of you. I’m clean, and I’m on birth control. I can pick up some Plan B in the morning, just to be safe.”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, sugar, if you’re sure.”

You tightened your grip around his neck. “I’m so sure, Sergeant Barnes,” you said. “I wanna feel every inch of you inside of me.”

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sex without a condom before,” he confessed. “Don’t take it personal if I don’t last. It just means you feel so fucking good, I couldn’t help myself.”

You snorted at that, and Bucky grinned at you. “As long as you make sure I cum, too,” you said, kissing his jaw, “I don’t care how long you last.” You both knew he would never leave you unsatisfied.

“Hey.” Bucky jerked his chin so he was looking into your eyes again. “I’m really glad that, this first time for me without anything between me and a dame, it’s with you.”

You didn’t have words to describe how that made you feel, so you did the only thing that would properly convey the depth of your affection toward him– you kissed him as you lowered yourself onto his dick. You were so wet, he met virtually no resistance as he tilted his hips up into you. And your body, now after your… eleventh, or was it twelfth?-- time in two and a half days, knew how to welcome him.

“Holy fucking shit!” you gasped.

“What is, doll?” Bucky asked, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Do you have any idea how deep you feel inside of me right now, Bucky?” you asked him. “It’s like I can feel you in my soul.” 

“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he started using his arms to guide you up and down on his cock, sliding himself nearly all the way out before pulling you back down on him again, and each stroke felt like ecstasy. “Damn it, doll,” Bucky said, looking down to watch where his cock disappeared inside of you, “you feel so fuckin’ good! I don’t know if I can ever go back to fucking you covered again!”

“Oh, god, Bucky,” you moaned. You didn’t know if you could go back, either, not with the way you could feel every single vein of him drag against your inner walls. His motions were deliberate, slow, gently feeding the fire instead of pouring gasoline on it the way he usually did. It was intoxicating.

“Look at me, sugar,” he begged, his voice holding a tone of longing. Your eyes met his, and despite the dark, they shone. You couldn’t look away as he pumped into you. “You’re fucking amazing, Major,” he gasped, timing his statements to match his languid thrusts. “So goddamn beautiful.” Thrust. “You make me laugh.” Thrust. “You’re brave as hell.” Thrust. “You’re independent.” Thrust. “Strong.” Thrust. “Smart.” Thrust.

He kept praising you as he increased his rhythm, hips thrusting up into you faster and faster, the whole while keeping his eyes locked on yours. The coil inside of you was tightening, constricting the expanse of your lungs, making your breath come out in shallow gasps. 

You kissed him, putting every ounce of lust into the motion, moaning into his mouth as he never broke stride and brought you closer to the edge. “Bucky,” you moaned into his mouth. “Fuck, Bucky, you’re making me feel so good, honey. Don’t stop, please!” 

“Never, sugar,” Bucky grunted back. “Fuck, wanna make love to you until the day I die.” You sucked in a breath at his words, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Bucky’s thrusts faltered. “Doll,” he said, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from your cheek, “did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!”

“No!” you cried, shaking your head as you worked your own hips to make up for his loss of motion. “No, Bucky, shit, honey, you’re saying everything so right. I’m crying because I can’t remember the last time I felt so goddamn happy.” 

Bucky resumed his thrusts with a renewed purpose. Getting up on knees, he repositioned you so you were lying on your back, his giant frame leaning over you. “Come on, sugar,” Bucky grunted as he snaked a hand down to your clit and began to rub. “Need to feel you cum around my cock. Show me how happy you are, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to bring your face closer to his. Grabbing a hold of the chain that held your name, you pulled his face to yours and kissed him. “‘M so close, honey,” you moaned into his lips. “Need you to give it to me.”

“I wanna give you everything, Major,” he grunted, kissing you again. And then, suddenly, it was all over for you, the coil snapping, and you were falling, shouting his name to the stars and the sky. Bucky’s thrusts lost their careful rhythm, and you could feel him spilling into you, wave after warm wave of cum pouring down your channel. 

“Fuck, sugar,” Bucky cried. “Can feel you squeezin’ me. Shit, baby– you feel so fucking good, sugar. ‘S so good, can’t stop cumming.” His words lost all meaning as they devolved into grunts and moans as he collapsed on you, his hips still thrusting as if with a mind of their own.

The weight of him should have been suffocating, but instead, you never felt safer than you did with his body splayed on top of yours. He held you to him, as though afraid that, were he to let go, you would float away on the breeze, and you felt so light after your orgasm, you very well could have. Mumbling sweet nothings into the side of your neck, Bucky’s flesh hand found your hair, stroking it. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your skin. “Thank you so much, Major.”

You let out a shuddering breath, hands gripping the muscles of his upper back as you held him, legs finding their way around his waist. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That was everything.”

After a few moments, Bucky gently rolled off of you, but his hands never left your body as he held you close, running his fingers along the meridian of your spine. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked you. Always considerate, always checking in. It made your heart swell with affection. Fuck, with love for him.

“So good,” you told him. You placed a gentle kiss on his pectoral. “How are you feeling? Did you have a good time?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, sugar?” he asked with mock incredulity. “Every time I’m with you feels like the best time of my fucking life. And I’m not just saying that,” he added, anticipating your incoming protest. “You… I don’t know what it is you do to me, Major. I just know that, when I look at you, things feel right, for the first time since I shipped out in ‘43. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

But goddamn if this man didn’t know how to say just the right words to you. “If you’re not careful, Bucky Barnes,” you said, hoping to put enough tease in your voice to mask how sincerely you felt the words you were saying, “I’m gonna end up falling in love with you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[bucksprettygirl]

stress reliever. — bucky barnes x fem!reader.

pairing; bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings; smut, fingering, cunnilingus, mentions of aftercare!!, just filth when bucky needs a stress reliever (you) after a long day. no use of y/n!!!

a/n; likely pretty messy and scattered around since it’s been a while since i’ve wrote anything that wasn’t my jacob elordi drabble.. pls forgive me if it doesn’t live up to ur expectations!! also js starting out w fingering/cunnilingus for my first few drabbles/x readers bc im easing myself back into writing..

you knew it was a stressful day when bucky came in through the door late at night, door closing heavily behind him, void of any regular calling out to let you know he was home, and not some stranger (even if both you and him were fully aware it would always be him walking through the door, it was something you found reoccured; a regularity between the two of you). the only thing that echoed out into the front hallway from the living room was the faint overhearing of whatever shitty romcom you had on. it was no surprise you were awake this late, your sleep schedule had been pretty fucked recently, so you were more often than not found in the living room with some show or movie on at a low volume in the background, in hopes that it’d lull you to sleep.

thinking maybe he needed a break: some tea, a blanket and just someone to lay near that night, you greeted him with a soft, “hey, buck,” like you usually did; though the quieter tone of your voice made it clear you knew tonight was going to be a night— whether that be good or bad, you didn’t know. once you’d turned the television off, you lifted yourself off the couch to greet him properly; the regular hug and kiss. by the time you had even gotten to leave the living room and step into the front hall, bucky was already there; and by the look in his eyes, you knew you were entirely wrong about what kind of stress reliever he needed.

still, taking it slow, you soothed a hand over his flesh arm, finally wrapping your hand around his before guiding him to the bedroom, which he eagerly followed behind you for, before closing the door behind the both of you with his metal arm— finally greeting you as his hands placed against your hips, head tilted down towards your neck, breath fanning over your skin as he spoke, “hey, doll.” his voice was gruff and strained; much like it usually was after long days, but you could tell there was his own kind of need hidden beneath his tone. you could feel his hand slip up past your shirt, beneath it, until it rested against your breast; now leaving open-mouthed kisses to your neck, nipping at and soothing over the fragile skin with teeth and tongue.

you hummed, breath hitching in your throat as you replied, again, simply just because it felt wrong to leave a silence between his words, “stressful day, hm, bucky?” you found yourself letting out a gasp as he traced circles on your skin before twisting your nipple between his forefinger and thumb, rolling the bud between his two fingers. you could feel the way his lips quirked into a smirk as he finally lifted your shirt, tugging it over your head before discarding it somewhere. “you’re s’fuckin’ gorgeous, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss behind your ear before he guided you to the bed, his hands maneuvering you so you were facing him before making you sit down on the edge. with a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of bucky’s lips, he pressed more kisses to your skin; sucking on the skin, nipping and soothing, marking you.

“lemme taste you, baby, please.” bucky whispered, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your shorts before tugging them down (with slight struggle) once he’d gotten your permission, a whined out “yes, please,” as you lifted your hips up enough off the bed to help him take your shorts and underwear off, not wanting to have to buy a new pair of both if he ended up ripping them. his fingers dipped down, one swiping through your slit; gathering slick onto it as he pressed it into your entrance, his lips trailing down your chest to your stomach. you were already so wet for him, and god, that only spurred him on further. “this all f’me, baby?” he murmured, spreading your legs apart with his metal hand, the touch cool against your body (which practically felt like it was burning up), “so wet, ‘nd it’s just f’me, yeah?” he mumbled, kisses moving to your inner thighs.

you whined, a hand moving down to weave through his hair, fingers gripping onto strands and tugging, hips pushing forward as if trying to get him to hurry up. “yeah. yeah, buck, all for you.” you mumbled in response, breath hitching in your throat as his tongue pressed to your cunt, licking from your entrance, where his finger still worked inside of you, to your clit, pressing the softest kiss to the sensitive bud before wrapping his lips around it; most of his attention going there as he slipped another finger inside of you. he groaned simply at the taste of you, absorbing the moans that left your throat with every thrust of his fingers, every time he altered from suckling on your clit to just eating you out; every now and then removing his fingers, just to replace them with his tongue, moving the muscle in languid strokes against your walls.

it didn’t take long for you to come undone. he knew your body too well; studied it from the moment you two got together, the moment you two had your first intimate moment— he took every reaction of yours in, what you liked and what you didn’t. leaning back, away from your cunt, mouth detaching from your clit as his thumb moved to replace it, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive bud, two fingers still thrusting inside of you until you tightened around him, mouth falling open in a silent moan; head tilting back as you came. “such a good girl..” bucky mumbled, pressing gentle kisses to your inner thighs as his pace slowed, letting you come down from your high.

after that, the night was filled with cuddles— of course, after a warm bath was drawn for the both of you, and bucky got you cleaned up, your once sweat-covered skin smelling of the roses your body wash held. he’d waited until you fallen asleep next to him before he, himself, took a shower to wash away any grime that he’d had on himself after his day, but also to just soothe his muscles which had ached. maybe he should’ve taken a cup of tea beforehand, but he didn’t mind. he’d gotten exactly what he needed; a stress reliever.

ending kinda sucks ssorrry guys i got lazy ... i do apologize if this doesn’t live up to your expectations or if it’s super short & everything goes by too quickly..i’m not the best at writing full oneshots (i hardly even write drabbles by themselves), but i’ve been wanting to write for bucky for a little while now, so i did !! hope u enjoyed.

[k4vehrtz]

Now That We Don't Talk

-> Pairing: eren yeager / gender neutral reader

-> Request: yes / no

-> Word Count: 2K

➷...Summary: you stick to what you know, and what you know is that no one loves you the way eren does.

-> Notes: took a little longer with this one to make sure it's accessible to everyone regardless of their gender ! if i made any mistakes please do let me know ! admittedly not proof read & in lowercase bc i was tipsy when i wrote it and then hung over when i edited it ;-;

➷...Content Warnings: sub/bottom reader. unprotected sex, exes to ?, oral (r giving), mild face fucking/deepthroating, oral fixation is heavily implied, finger sucking, cum swallowing, fingering, use of the nickname 'doll', dacryphilia, dumbification, creampie, implied tummy bulge, light degradation, reader's genitals referred to as: entrance/hole/heat.

you tell yourself that tonight will be different. you’re not hunched over your desk back in your dorm studying. you’re trying new things — like sitting at the makeshift bar in armin’s apartment, nursing a red solo cup of punch as music blares from speakers situated at every corner of the room.

and when someone takes a seat beside you, you indulge in a conversation with them. complaining about how loud the music is turns into sharing trivial facts about your lives. then that transitions into judging everyone’s costumes for halloween.

you didn’t dress up tonight; when you decided to attend armin’s halloween party it was already too late to buy a costume. neither did the stranger whose name you only just realised you never got. so, you both take it upon yourselves to be the judges of everyone else.

which is completely fine until he points out a familiar face. a face you knew you’d run into if you came here. it is his best friend’s house after all. but you make the conscious decision to push that thought to the back of your mind where it belongs. like you’ve been doing with every other thought of him.

before coming here, you had asked yourself: ‘how do i know when i’ve moved on?’ and now you have your answer. you know you’ve moved on when you’re having fun at a party with someone else. and even if you do run into eren, it won’t bother you.

but, the thing is, it does. it does bother you when those green eyes meet yours. when he has that expression on his face that you can’t quite discern. and especially when he turns on his heel, heading towards an empty corridor.

it makes you feel sick to your stomach. which is the only logical reason why you excuse yourself and head in eren’s direction. stopping only when you see him leaning against the door to the bathroom. you’ve been here enough times throughout your relationship with eren to know the layout of the apartment to a t.

and neither of you say anything — falling into a staring competition of some sort. both your gazes heavy with emotion. until eren looks away to open the door to the empty bathroom and you follow him inside. trying new things is fun, but old habits die hard.

eren holds your chin in between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head upwards so that your gaze meets his. “for fuck’s sake,” and he curses, more so to himself than to you, his voice coming out somewhat strained as he speaks, “we’re not playing this game tonight.”

and you swallow hard, leaning in closer against your better judgment, your lips mere centimetres apart. “it’s not like it means anything, right? we broke up, eren.” you counter in a last-ditch effort to save face. this is all your fault, really, you came onto him first, after all, but you’d never admit that.

“that’s where you’re wrong,” he scoffs, brushing his lips against yours, and you do nothing to resist, “it means everything, and you can call it a mistake in—” instead, you take the opportunity to initiate the kiss. sliding your tongue into his mouth with ease. and as soon as the initial shock wears off eren takes control, tangling his fingers in your hair as he deepens the kiss. it’s wet and rough at first, then gentle and slow, and you feel warmth erupt in your chest.

he has to pull away eventually though and you whimper at the loss of his lips against yours. for a moment it felt as though neither of you needed air, only each other.

“you know what? i don’t care if you think what’s about to happen is a mistake,” he grunts, his voice husky as he lifts you to straddle him. the pads of his fingers warm against your skin as he holds you in place.

you glance at him through half-lidded eyes, your mind in circles, as you ask quietly, “what…what’s about to happen?” it’s a rhetorical question, obviously, but you need to hear him say it.

eren doesn’t give you the answer you expect though. the corners of his lips quirk upwards into a lopsided smirk and he tsks. “one kiss isn’t going to make up for everything that you’ve done tonight,” narrowing his eyes at you, but there’s no malice behind the action. “...and if i recall correctly,” he says as he taps your cheek, “you like to use this little mouth of yours so why not put it to good use instead of bitching at me?”

it’s humiliating, really, how it takes everything in you to stifle a moan instead of some sort of witty comeback. only an hour or two has passed since you two first ran into each other and he’s got you wrapped around his finger all over again.

you can feel the imprint of his erection beneath you. throbbing against the constraints of his sweatpants. and your legs almost feel like jelly — the thought alone of having your mouth around him like that has you throbbing with need.

so, when he nudges your cheek again you scramble to your knees, positioning yourself in between his legs. curling your fingers around the waistband of his sweats and boxers before full-on pulling it down. his cock immediately springing upwards, hitting your face, and smearing pre-cum on your lips.

“if you’re not interested i can...” he teases, purposefully trailing off so that you interject: “no! i... i, i’m interested,” and he nods, clicking his tongue and mouthing what you assume is ‘get to it then’.

you hesitate for another minute or so, he’s just so big you don’t know how you ever managed to make it fit! before slowly wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. it’s hot and heavy on your tongue as more pre-cum leaks out of the slit. and after another brief pause to adjust you begin to swirl your tongue around the angry tip as you slowly take more of his length into your warm mouth.

eren doesn’t rush you — he understands that it’s a challenge for you. but if he said that was his only reason he’d be lying. something about the way your lips are stretched around his cock, drool dripping from either side of your mouth, awakens something in him. it makes his stomach twist, makes his cock throb in your mouth some more, and persuades him to bring his hand to the back of your neck, pushing you down further on his cock.

by no means is it rough but you’re still caught off guard. your yelp muffled by his cock. and he smiles down at you, grunting as he controls your movements. the sound of your muffled moans together with his grunts echoes throughout the otherwise empty bathroom.

it’s not long before his cock is hitting the back of your throat with precision each time he thrusts his hips. green eyes fixated on you as you gag around his length, “take me so well, doll, you were made for this, not for runnin’ your mouth,” taking in the way your eyes brim with tears.

he doesn’t stop though, not until he’s cumming down your throat, and only then does he pull out with a pop, his cock slick with your saliva. you could’ve stopped him at any given time but you didn’t — you even swallowed every last drip of his cum.

eren leans down to wipe the few tears you’ve managed to shed, murmuring as he does so, “if i didn’t know any better i would’ve fallen for your little act. all you need is some cock to shut you up, right doll?” and he uses his fingers to make you shake your head ‘yes’. “but not just any cock, you need my cock.”

you don’t say anything, simply halfway glaring at him but he smiles because he knows he’s right. all you could think of is him and his stupid face and his stupidly big cock and how dumb you were to break up with him. but then again, you don’t even remember why you two broke up in the first place.

you’re dragged out of your train of thought, however, when he lifts you back onto his lap. holding you in the air just long enough to pull down your bottoms so that your bare crotch is flush against his slick cock.

he presses a kiss to your forehead, using one hand to hold you steady on his lap, while the other is dragged along your entrance. and you feel yourself shudder every time one of his fingers ghosts your hole — but that’s always as far as it goes. so, so close yet so fucking far.

“please,” you plead, and you almost don’t recognize the sound of your own voice. you sound so whiny, so desperate. eren moves his hand away, bringing it up to your face to cup your tear-stained cheek, “you’ve gotta use your words, love, how am i supposed to know what you want when all you say is ‘please’?”

you feel like you’re going to lose your mind but you give in to him; you always do. “please,” you repeat yourself, sounding a little breathier this time, “please put your cock in me, i need it.” fighting the heat that’s creeping up your throat all the way to the tips of your ears.

eren pulls his hand back to his chin as if contemplating your request in the most obnoxious way possible. he stays like that for a moment before leaning toward you once more, pressing his finger against your lip. “say ‘ah’ for me,” he hums, and you do exactly as you’re told albeit somewhat unwillingly.

he flashes you a smile, sliding his finger into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue lightly. “now get it all wet for, you can do that for me, right?” you nod eagerly, desperate to please him as you begin swirling your tongue around the salty digit.

soon one finger turns into two, then two into three, and then three into four. you’re so passionate about what you’re doing that it almost hurt eren to pull his fingers out of your mouth. but your dissatisfied whimpers quickly morph into a mix of gasps and breathy moans as he sinks his fingers into your throbbing heat one by one.  

eren’s usually more patient than this but as your desperation for him grows so too does his desperation for you. you barely have time to adjust before his fingers curl inside of you. thick digits working you open while the promise of his throbbing cock is just beneath you.

you’re so close to getting what you want. you feel your heartbeat in between your legs. and when he finally retracts his fingers, you let out a low moan. this is what you've been waiting for.

he slides his hands up to your hips, lifting you to align the head of his cock with your entrance before slowly pushing in. he looks in awe as you sink onto his cock. the more of him you take, the more unfocused your eyes become.

“that’s it,” he moans as he ruts into you, thoroughly enjoying the way your hands scramble to hold onto his broad shoulders and how the fat of your thighs ripple and jiggle with each thrust. “you were so mean earlier, but look at you now. you forget all your words when my cock is in this tight hole or down your throat?”  

you open your mouth to protest because that’s not true! but only a string of moans and little uh-uh-uhs escapes your kiss-swollen lips. you can’t even get a word out as he continues to piston his hips.

“i know, i know,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, bringing one of his hands down to your stomach. “you want to feel me all the way here, right?” and you shudder at the thought, the implication making you squirm. making you clench harder around his throbbing cock. he takes that as a yes it seems as he continues, “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you,”

and he does just that in his own way. continuing to rut into you until you’re sobbing at just how deep he is. you hadn’t even realized when you came the first time, your arousal splattered all over his thighs. but what you do know is that it isn’t long until you’re both cumming together.