#this.... took way too long....................................

[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

everyone knows dr. zayne is cool as a cucumber, and it's a given for him that you're known as his wife, but when a fresh-faced new resident seemingly makes a move on you... what will he do?

genre/warnings: very suggestive, jealousy (a very jealous zayne, in fact), making out in his office, crack, fluff, hunter!reader, you and zayne have a daughter

note: inspired by that one kim min-kyu scene in business proposal :D this is actually an extension for nocturne of twilight and dawn's first light but can also be read as standalone

You hadn't seen your husband for two weeks.

There was a spring on your step when you entered Akso Hospital right after your long intercity mission. You had acquired some bruises and they weren't anything serious, so you figured you’d just have Greyson treat them. Besides, it gave you the perfect excuse to hand him some cookies as a souvenir.

And, of course, ask him to ring for Zayne to meet you once he had the time.

"Miss, do you need help?"

But a curious voice addressed you when you loitered around in the lobby, and you turned around to find a bright-faced young man with red hair and wearing doctor's coat.

"Ah, yes, I want to meet Dr. Zayne," you smiled. "Or Dr. Greyson will do."

The young doctor perked up at the names you mentioned. "Oh, are you a patient? Do you have an appointment already?"

"Hmm, no, actually I am—"

You halted mid-sentence before the words his wife slipped out, rethinking your choice. You knew of Zayne's infamous reputation in the hospital, and while almost everyone in his floor knew you, this new doctor didn't, and you thought it was best to leave it that way.

"Yeah, I already have an appointment," you nodded, plastering an thin smile. "Just tell Dr. Greyson that Y/N wants to meet him."

"Right, right, I'll page him now..." he mumbled, pulling out his pager and his phone. "I'll text him too..."

"Thank you."

"O-oh, Miss! Wait!" the young man called after you in a hurry when you turned around. "I've noticed it for a while, you have a cut on the side of your lips..."

"Ah, this..." Your fingers instinctively brushed the dried blood on your lips. You hadn’t thought the small cut was noticeable. "Yes, it’s from earlier—"

"Actually, I’m an ER resident!" he interrupted with a bright grin. "Let me treat you first!"

Caught off guard by his enthusiasm, you barely had time to react as he gently but firmly guided you towards the emergency room.

"Dr. Zayne! Dr. Zayne! Your wife is here~!"

Zayne had barely stepped into his office after a grueling surgery when Greyson barged in, all too casually, delivering the news with a grin. "She’s waiting in the lobby!"

He blinked, slightly taken aback. "Oh?"

You're back? He pulled out his muted phone, checking the notifications. Sure enough, you’d sent him a message an hour ago, letting him know you’d safely landed in Linkon.

His little, snarky wife. For the past two weeks you had been away, the house had felt lonelier. Sure, his daughter—who resembled you in personality, no less—was a bundle of sunshine and adorable beyond words, but without you, there was always that subtle void in the air.

Or maybe it wasn’t the house at all? Maybe it was just him—utterly, hopelessly whipped.

"Why isn’t she coming up to my office?" he asked suddenly, noticing the odd detail.

"Hmm, yeah, and it’s weird... why did the new resident say she’s asking for me?" Greyson mused, turning toward Zayne. "Don’t you want to meet her instead? Whatever she needs me for, I’m sure you could handle it."

Zayne promptly left his office and took long strides toward the elevator. As the doors started to close, he even half-sprinted, calling out to the person inside to hold it for him.

Okay, maybe he was a little too eager, but was it really so wrong to be this excited to see his wife again when the two of you had been apart for two weeks?

...then again, you didn't need to know. You would roast him to bits should you know he missed you this much.

Zayne got off at the lobby, expecting to find you there— only to find the usual flow of hospital staff and visitors. He was about to call you when he wandered past the emergency room and turned the corner—and that’s when he got his shock of the day.

There you were. But not alone.

With a guy.

Whose hand is touching your lips.

"It must be tough being a hunter, huh?"

The red-haired resident carefully tended to your bruised arm, wrapping it in a fresh bandage as you sighed, thinking back to the mission. "Yeah, there are definitely some hard days..."

"But despite all that, you still keep yourself in shape!" he remarked, eyeing your toned arms with a hint of admiration.

You let out a sheepish laugh, remembering those pull-ups sessions with Zayne. "Haha, that's because my husband makes sure I'm getting enough exercise..."

"You're married?!" His voice was filled with disbelief, and it caught you off guard, yet he grinned afterwards. "Wow! Is he a hunter too?"

You would've never guessed, boy. This resident doctor was cute, you thought, ever so curious at everything. You could only imagine the look on his face if you told him that the Dr. Zayne was your husband.

You were about to refute it when his fingers brushed against your lips. "Oh, sorry, let me apply some ointment here first..."

His touch felt cool to your lips and you were momentarily stunned at the contact— but then a gruff cough startled you so much you almost jumped.

The towering figure of your husband behind him. Zayne's dark gaze was fixed on the man in front of you, like he could murder the poor guy with just a look.

"Z-Zayne...?" you squeaked against the ointment on your lips, and the resident quickly turned behind him in surprise, hastily greeting him, "Oh, Dr. Zayne!"

Zayne shot the poor man a single, pointed look before his gaze shifted to you, clearly unamused.

He suddenly grabbed your hand and, without sparing the resident another glance, swiftly pulled you away. The other guy was left standing there, speechless, as Zayne led you off, leaving him in the dust.

. . .

"Zayne!"

Oh, how he actually missed his name coming out from your lips.

"Are you done with your schedule?" you asked as he pulled you into the elevator, confusion evident in the way you tilted your head. But when he didn’t answer, you glanced down at his firm grip on your arm, suddenly realizing something. "Wait, no... are you angry?"

Sigh. It irked him so much, actually. Because, how could you, after weeks—

No, he actually knew he was being irrational. He shouldn’t overreact like this just because someone else touched you. But why is he so annoyed, still?

"Wait, why?" you kept asking, wide-eyed, as the two of you stepped out and made way towards his office. "I'm not injured! I'm fine! It's just some bruises—"

Without a word, Zayne pulled you into his office, swiftly locking the door behind him. Before you could say another word, he cornered you against the wall, and you fell silent instantly.

It had been a while since he’d seen you this way—stunned, caught off guard, and utterly silent under his gaze. He studied your face closely, watching the way your breath hitched as the tension between you both thickened.

It sparked something inside him seeing you like this, a sense of satisfaction that he couldn’t quite explain, but one he welcomed nonetheless.

That was when he saw the blood on your lips. "Did you get punched in the face?"

"Y-Yes, but— it's nothing severe!" you defended, trying to convince him. "It's such a small cut anyway!"

He frowned. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"What? Hey, I was about to ask Greyson, but—"

That got him frown even deeper, even irate. "Why Greyson? When you come home with any injuries, you come to me, not anyone else."

You let out a resigned sigh, slumping your shoulders in defeat. "Because I know you'll fuss over me, duh."

"I don't fuss," he retorted.

"You do," you shot back, pursing your lips. "You try to act like this cool, calm robot all the time, but you always drone on and on whenever you patch me up. You're worried, it shows."

Zayne huffed, shifting his gaze away from you as he felt his face burn. Was he that obvious? How could he not, though, when you managed to get hurt so often and yet acted so innocent about it?

Then as if inspired, you caught on immediately. Your eyes sparkled, and a mischievous smirk tugged at your lips. "Wait, just now... don't tell me... Are you jealous?"

Damn.

"Heh, Dr. Zayne, really?" Your voice was playful now, mocking him. "Whoa, how can this be?"

How had you figured him out so easily?

You continued in a sing-song voice, putting both hands on your chest, "Ah, my heart flutters! My husband is apparently—"

Enough. This time, his patience snapped.

He didn’t hesitate even for a moment. A low growl escaped him, and in one swift motion, he crashed his lips against yours, silencing you with the most effective method he could think of.

"Mmph!" You gasped in surprise, the teasing words at the end of your tongue completely forgotten. His gray eyes gleamed. Been too long, he thought, and now he was making sure you knew just how badly he craved this.

The kiss was searing as he deepened it, his tongue seeking yours with urgency. "Hngh!" You let out a feeble whine when he teased you by biting your lips.

Zayne held back a snort. One of his hand then strayed inside your hunter uniform, unclasping your bra with a flick.

"—?!" Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening, and before you could process it, he pulled away. But you were far from right in thinking it was over. The dangerous gleam in his eyes kept you tense as he swiftly removed his glasses...

...before he pulled you back towards him and claimed your lips once again.

With a swift, commanding motion, he guided you toward his desk. His papers scattered at the sudden movement, but he had you bent over it regardless, forcing your body to arch. One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, while his right hand fondled your breasts, repeatedly squeezing, palming and switching between them.

"Mmm...!" You let out a strangled moan, instinctively holding onto his shoulder, feeling the way how he groped you ignited your core. "Ahh..."

Your body was tantalizing as always. Hardened and sometimes bruised from your work it may be, but to Zayne, you were still beautiful as ever.

When you gasped for air, he decided he was done with your swollen lips. His lips then trailed down to your neck, sucking hard on it, creating a squelching sound that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

"W-what's... gotten into you...?" you breathed out, tangling your fingers in his hair, hyperaware of his hands still roaming over your nipples.

In response, he nibbled at your skin and flicked your breasts at the same time, causing you to freeze and draw a sharp, hitched breath. "Haah...!"

Unbeknownst to you, his lips curled wickedly at your reaction, and he continued to pepper your neck with series of wet sucks as if to mark you altogether. You writhed under him, whiny and sighing, relishing his hot breath on your skin.

You were utterly at his mercy, pliant and helpless in his hands. There was a deep satisfaction in knowing he was the only one who could bring you, his lawfully wedded wife, to this state—

Still, he wouldn’t allow you to be indecent in a place like this. When he finally pulled back, he was breathing heavily, eyes dark with lust, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of your jaw. "Don’t tempt me," he muttered, voice low and raspy.

You gazed up at him, your heart pounding. "Zayne..." you whispered, a whine broke through the heat on your flushed face.

His expression softened just enough, a flicker of tenderness cutting through the intensity. Pretty. That’s what you were, undeniably so. How he had missed out on you so long once was his greatest regret.

Carefully, he helped you sit upright, his touch gentle as he clasped your bra and began buttoning up your uniform, disheveled from his earlier ministrations.

The gentle way he touched you was a stark contrast to how it was earlier. "Is that a new way to treat busted lip?" you nudged his collar, feeling a little braver now.

"For bad wives, yeah."

"I'm not a bad wife! Just disobedient on some occasion."

Zayne's fingers brushed your face as he finished with your uniform, his dark-gray eyes steady on you. You pouted.

"You're the one who's bad," you accused with slight resentment, not missing a beat as the heat between your legs started to dissipate. "Leaving me unfinished like that."

"Hmm? Am I?" he murmured, the faintest amusement in his tone.

"You have to take responsibility tonight, you big meanie," you mumbled, your pout deepening as you avoided meeting his gaze.

Zayne snorted at the sight of you—so precious in his eyes, his thumb lightly grazing the corner of your lips in a gesture so tender it made your heart skip, before whispering in your ear:

"Well, if your voice won't wake our daughter, that is."

Epilogue

Not long after, just as you had gathered yourself and were preparing to leave the hospital to head home, a sudden knock at the door of his office startled you both.

Quickly, you moved to sit on the patient’s seat, feigning nonchalance as you braced yourself for whoever was on the other side. Zayne reached for the door, but before he could unlock it, a familiar voice called out.

"Excuse me!" the resident's voice sounded a bit hesitant but firm. "Dr. Zayne, the miss left her handbag earlier!"

Zayne let out a low, irked sigh. You glanced at him curiously, watching as he opened the door and came face-to-face with the redheaded resident.

Without a word, he extended his hand, and the resident blinked before handing over the bag.

"I-is the miss still here?" the young doctor asked, almost intimidated by his unfriendly gaze.

"Ma'am," Zayne corrected, his voice flat.

"Huh?"

"Call her ma'am. She's someone's wife."

"O-oh, and her husband is—"

"Me. I am her husband."

Your eyes widened in surprise at the matter-of-fact exchange, heat rising to your cheeks as Zayne’s words hung confidently in the air. He curtly thanked the poor resident before slamming the door shut in his face.

Your jaw practically hit the floor. "Zayne!" you gasped, staring at him as he turned back towards you, entirely unbothered.

Your husband was as cold as the snowman he often made, but somehow the way he boldly declared he was your husband was just so him that it made you so giddy.

You tilted your head, crossing your arms with a playful smile. "You’re really jealous, huh? How?"

He didn’t answer, his gaze still fixed elsewhere, most definitely trying to save his dignity.

You chuckled softly, stepping closer to him with a teasing sway. Your fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw, turning him to face you, and you winked at him mischievously.

"Well, I’m all yours. But if it makes you feel better, maybe I’ll stay away from any ER residents for a while~"

[crystallinestars]

Just Confess Already! Part 2

Drabbles about Genshin men (or you) confessing with the help of a wingman. This is pure fluff.

Characters: Kazuha, Kinich, Ororon, Wanderer, and Cyno.

Part 1 here.

I apologize if the endings sound abrupt, I've edited and rewritten this many times, and at this point I just want to get this finally posted. I also apologize for the length, my writing style has changed since part 1.

🍁 Kazuha

Everyone and their mother at The Crux could tell you and Kazuha had a thing for each other. The way you guys spent most of your free time in each other’s company discussing poetry or music, the way Kazuha always volunteered to help you with your tasks, how you took care of Kazuha when he got drunk, and just the overall subtle romantic tension about your pair tipped off pretty much everyone.

Though Beidou didn’t want to pry into the love lives of her crew, she’d sometimes catch glimpses of you and Kazuha chatting up in the crow’s nest of the ship and noted that the way you smiled at each other was endearing. Otherwise, she paid little attention to it, thinking it was only a matter of time until one of you confessed and you guys became an official couple.

However, that time never came. The two of you pussyfooted around the topic of laying bare your feelings, and everyone at The Crux was getting a little annoyed that you were stuck in the pining phase. There was a limit to how long Beidou could tolerate watching you give each other pining glances without snapping and telling you two to get together already.

One time when you were out on an errand, Beidou and her crew invited Kazuha for a drink. The friendly and cheerful atmosphere prompted some members to share their life stories, and the topic breached romance. Someone asked Kazuha why he hadn’t confessed to you yet, and the drunken ronin answered that he treasured your friendship and didn’t want to jeopardize it in case you didn’t feel the same way.

Beidou could only scoff at his excuse. It was so obvious that you liked him back, and since when was Kazuha such a coward? He could go up against the Raiden Shogun’s deadly Musou no Hitotachi, but had his tail between his legs at the prospect of admitting he loved you to your face? Preposterous! Moreover, she had to tell her crew to settle down because they were creating a spectacle out of your crushes on each other and making bets on which one of you would confess first (she betted on you).

If Kazuha was too much of a coward, Beidou thought, then maybe you’d be braver.

That same evening, she happened to find you alone in your cabin and took the opportunity to bring up the issue of your longtime crush on Kazuha. Though she was no expert on romance, Beidou wanted to help you. She got you to open up and confide in her, patiently listening while you expressed your fears about confessing to Kazuha. You also didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him, so Beidou stated outright that he returned your feelings. If you didn’t believe her, then see for yourself.

With that, she pried open a window in the cabin. Over the gentle lapping of the waves, you heard the crew’s laughter up on the deck, and the faint sound of Kazuha’s familiar voice. It was a little difficult to hear what he was saying over the crew’s chatter, and his speech was slightly slurred, but you made out a few words. He frequently spoke your name while reciting a few clumsy haikus. But they weren’t just any random poems about the sea or sky—they were love haikus.

Beidou patted your shoulder and told you to have courage instead of wasting your life wondering about what-ifs and regretting not doing anything.

Over the following days, Beidou sent you and Kazuha out on joint errands in Liyue Harbour. The errands themselves weren’t all that important, but they served as good excuses to give you two some alone time. Kazuha was no fool and quickly deduced that Beidou was setting you two up on purpose, but he wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to spend more time with you.

Beidou hoped something would finally change by the time you returned, and sure enough, when she spotted you and Kazuha walking back to the ship, she smiled. The two of you were holding hands and smiling warmly at each other, a good sign that your once-suppressed feelings were now in the open. Naturally, the rest of the crew noticed the change as well and grew excited when you confirmed that you and Kazuha were now in a romantic relationship.

That night, they brought out the good wine and food to congratulate you and Kazuha on finally getting together. Most of the Crux’s crew joined on the festivities, with some members being nosy and asking you for details on how it happened and who confessed first.

When you admitted to confessing first, Beidou smugly accepted her winnings and took a big swig of her drink before yelling out a cheer. Her crew followed suit in toasting and cheering much to your and Kazuha’s embarrassment, but it was all in good fun. Beidou made sure to make it up to you by distracting the crew with a drinking game and sending you a wink as she allowed you and Kazuha to make a quiet escape from the party. The Crux gang would have plenty of time to tease you in the future—for now, you and Kazuha deserved to enjoy this newfound relationship without others poking their noses where they don’t belong. Beidou would make sure of it.

🟩 Kinich

Kinich’s relationship with you perplexed K’uhul Ajaw. The Almighty Dragonlord couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, but something between you two changed. Recently, Kinich had been giving you discounts whenever you asked for his help, and sometimes even did things for you for free. Kinich the Malipo giving someone special treatment? Unheard of! And on top of all that, his servant had been visiting you more frequently during downtime, and there was also that strange glint in Kinich’s eyes whenever he looked at you, something akin to endearment—

Oh.

Kinich liked you.

Oh, this was going to be good!

Ajaw’s diabolical nature wouldn’t let him keep Kinich’s feelings for you a secret. The next time you came to hang out with their duo, the saurian waved his little stubby arms and ran his mouth as soon as you were within earshot. “Hey, human! Our lowly servant has developed romantic feelings for you like some sort of prepubescent schoolboy! Isn’t that a riot?” and cackled, thinking Kinich would be thoroughly humiliated and put in his place.

To Ajaw’s dismay, instead of looking disgusted by the news, you appeared… hopeful? A tad surprised by his outburst, but was that hope shining in your eyes? To Ajaw’s even greater dismay, Kinich lacked any sort of outward reaction to having his crush on you vocalized so brazenly. Instead, the saurian hunter told you to ignore Ajaw’s nonsensical words in his usual calm manner, before smacking the pixelated menace away for a timeout. Right before he got locked away, Ajaw managed to catch a glimpse of disappointment in your eyes when Kinich brushed the situation aside as if it were nothing.

That day, K’uhul Ajaw realized that Kinich’s feelings were not one-sided like he originally thought. You liked Kinich too. The mere thought of you two acting all lovey-dovey with each other was sickening, but the saurian figured poking fun at you and Kinich would be a good source of entertainment.

After that day, Ajaw became even more insufferable. Every chance he got, he’d swoop in with a taunting remark and make fun either you, Kinich, or both.

One time while accompanying Kinich through a dense forest, you slipped on a wet tree root and were sent falling towards the ground. However, Kinich swiftly caught you and pulled you to his chest to help stabilize you. Ajaw had a field day laughing and crowing about how scandalous you were for practically throwing yourself at Kinich like that. Were you that desperate to be in his arms? Disgusting!

The saurian also used every opportunity he could find to reveal all of Kinich’s secrets to you. Did you know Kinich gave you special treatment? No? Are you blind?! Can’t you tell he does stuff for you for free? Why do you think he brings you game and wild berries free of charge every once in a while--to show off how good he is at hunting?! Have you at least noticed Kinich smiled more and acted softer towards you, or are you really that blind? He doesn’t treat anyone else that way, you know! …And so on and so forth, though most of his attempts to out Kinich are interrupted by the man himself locking Ajaw away before the dragon reveals too much.

As fun as it was to watch your pair’s awkward attempts at showing signs of affection for each other, Ajaw eventually grew frustrated with standing witness to the mutual pining that never progressed anywhere. It made the little saurian’s blood boil with annoyance.

Whenever he and Kinich were alone, Ajaw would complain that the hunter should stop being a dimwit and a coward and just confess to you already! How could he not see that you obviously liked him back?! Seriously, how bad was his luck to end up with such an imbecile for a servant?!

Kinich coolly rejected Ajaw’s insistence for confessing his feelings. It was not in his nature to recklessly rush into the unknown—he needed to carefully analyze and weigh his options before coming to a sound decision. As such, his relationship with you was not to be rushed. This didn’t sit well with Ajaw, but no matter what he said, Kinich stubbornly refused to listen.

The Dragonlord’s patience reached a breaking point during one fateful day. It was getting dark, and Kinich had offered to escort you home. Once you were safely at your doorstep, you made the bold move of kissing Kinich’s cheek in thanks. For a split moment, Ajaw swore there was palpable romantic tension between you as your and Kinich’s eyes met (gross). Kinich glanced at your lips, looking as if he wanted to lean in and kiss you (doubly gross) and Ajaw prepared himself to make disgusted gagging noises, except… nothing happened. With a seldom seen blush on his cheeks, Kinich awkwardly cleared his throat and bid you goodnight, preparing to leave.

Ajaw exploded.

“This is painful to watch! You two were clearly made for each other—both equally cowardly and blind to each other’s feelings! Just admit you like each other already; you’re not fooling anyone! Kinich, you cowardly, brainless, insufferable insect—just lean in for that kiss, you obviously want to! And you! Stop waffling and just spit out that you like Kinich already! Agh, watching you two is torture! What did the great K’uhul Ajaw do to deserve this fate?!” he yelled, turning red in the face.

Kinich promptly locked Ajaw away, for which the saurian would later chew him out once he was free, but not before interrogating you and the hunter about whether you finally confessed. Once Kinich revealed that yes, you had talked it out and admitted your mutual feelings for each other and were now in a relationship, Ajaw could finally feel some sense of peace regarding the situation.

Feeling proud of his contributions, Ajaw puffed out his chest and told you and Kinich to pucker up and kiss his feet in worship, for only with the help of the Almighty Dragonlord K’uhul Ajaw has your relationship progressed instead of stagnating like swamp water.

Though the saurian relic continued to be an annoyance, even Kinich had to admit that Ajaw played a part in getting you together. Though not in the form of worship or foot kissing, Kinich did repay the favor by procuring some quenepa berries and other fruits that Ajaw liked, hosting a small feast as a thank you. Though Ajaw complained about being scammed, the snacks did the trick of improving his mood and keeping him occupied while you and Kinich had some precious time to yourselves.

🦇 Ororon

Ever since you and Ororon were children, Citlali observed that the two of you got along well. So well, in fact, that Ororon had developed a little crush on you. He would pluck flowers from a nearby meadow to give you, follow you around like a loyal puppy, and one time, Ororon told Citlali that he hoped to marry you one day.

Citlali couldn’t help but find Ororon’s crush on you adorable, and a part of her anticipated the day when you both grew up and got married. She had no doubt you would make the sweetest couple among the Masters of the Night-Wind.

Ororon’s attraction to you persisted into adulthood. At that point, Citlali could no longer call it a cute little crush— “Love” was a more apt description for how Ororon felt towards you, even if he tried to hide the depth of his attachment to you. He was content to stay as just your friend and not risk ruining the close bond you had in case you didn’t return his feelings. Citlali was a little frustrated that Ororon continued to pine for you without doing anything about it, but she knew better than to force the stubborn boy to do something he didn’t want to. If you were both happy with the way things were, then why change them?

However, during one of her rare trips to the market for some divination supplies, Citlali overheard a conversation between two tribespeople. The topic of conversation was about love, and one of the men bashfully admitted that he thought you were pretty and that he hoped to ask you out on a date soon. This news washed over Citlali like a bucket of cold water as worry seized her heart.

This wasn’t the first time others had expressed romantic interest in you. After all, you’ve always had a bit of a reputation among the Masters of the Night-Wind for being attractive, so it wasn’t surprising others had an eye on you. However, now that you were an independent adult, it wouldn’t be strange for you to look for a partner to settle down with, right? Knowing Ororon, the dimwit wouldn’t ever think to confess, and what if someone else confessed before he did and stole your heart?

Citlali didn’t want to force you to choose Ororon, but she didn’t want things to end without her beloved grandson at least taking a shot at winning you over. The last thing she wanted was for Ororon to be left heartbroken and disappointed all because he let the chance to be with you slip from his fingers.

With these troubled thoughts, Citlali sought out Ororon and announced that he needed to stop dawdling and actively pursue you unless he wanted to watch your heart get stolen by somebody else. Citlali’s sudden proclamation confused Ororon, so she explained that he’s not the only one who is in love with you and that there’s a risk of you choosing someone else to spend your life with.

As she expected, Ororon stubbornly refused to go along with her urging, saying that who you wanted to end up with was your choice and he would respect it. Though he said that, Citlali could see it on Ororon’s face that the mere thought of you falling for someone else hurt him, and she couldn’t help but feel bad for her grandson.

After much convincing and reassurance, Citlali got Ororon to agree to court you and promised to come up with a plan to help him in this endeavour. There was, however, one major problem: how were two socially awkward outcasts supposed to win someone’s heart? Having never been courted herself, Citlali had no past experiences to draw from when designing her plan, but it shouldn’t be too hard, right? She’d read a lot of romance novels imported from Inazuma, so maybe if she got Ororon to do some of the same things the male leads did, then it would curry your favour? Regardless, it was worth a shot.

The plan was for Ororon to prove his worth as a suitable partner by giving you gifts, compliments, and always being there for you no matter what it was. In Ororon’s opinion, he was already doing all of these things for you as a friend, but Citlali insisted that his actions needed to be infused with romance to distinguish them from gestures of friendship. Her grandson was still reluctant to actively court you, but he had promised to try and try he did. Except, his approach subverted Citlali’s expectations.

When it came to giving gifts, instead of presenting jewellery, woven scrolls, or useful gadgets, the young man gifted you game he had caught in the wild and the best selection of produce from his garden. Citlali could only facepalm when Ororon told her which gifts he planned to give you, but she also knew he put genuine thought into them. Ororon handpicked the nicest veggies he could find in his garden and personally delivered them to your doorstep instead of sending Ifa like he normally would. Citlali told him that giving gifts in person held more meaning, and Ororon appeared to have taken her words to heart.

Ororon also gifted you flowers much like he did when you were little. However, this time he didn’t give you flowers plucked from the wild. Instead, he gifted you potted plants that he had also grown in his garden. “They will live and look pretty for longer,” he told you, then received a flick to the forehead once Citlali found out what he did.

His compliments were no better. Saying things like his vegetables grew better whenever you visited his home and spoke to his plants or your presence being calming for the aphids, was the best Ororon could do. Citlali admonished him for these strange compliments, but to Ororon, that was the highest praise anyone could receive. After all, you were an amazing person, and even his plants and aphids sensed it.

Ororon’s courtship was unconventional to say the least, and granny Itztli worried whether her grandson made a favorable impression on you. To help improve Ororon’s image in your eyes, Citlali sought you out more often to put in a good word for her grandson and get you to see him as a man. She highlighted Ororon’s good points to you, commenting how Ororon is a bit peculiar, but he’s also kind, resourceful, accepting, gentle, and so much more. A truly good kid. He would make an excellent romantic partner, wouldn’t you agree?

Her pushiness flustered you, but it also allowed Citlali to gauge how you felt about Ororon, and she had to contain her excitement when she pieced together that you loved him back. In her giddiness, she urged Ororon to confess.

When the day of the confession came, Citlali hid among some trees while keeping an eye on you and Ororon. She didn’t intent to spy, but the anxiety over how the confession would go made her antsy and she couldn’t sit still at home. She watched as Ororon offered you a basket of his finest produce and finally professed his love. The confession came out awkward because he tried to recite what he practiced with Citlali a few days prior, and he seemed to realize this because Ororon then took your hand and placed it against his chest. Using his own words this time, Ororon explained that he genuinely did love you, and the racing of his heart should be proof enough that you were more than just a friend in his eyes. However, it was alright if you didn’t feel the same way about him.

Citlali had to clamp her hands over her mouth to hold back from squealing in giddiness as she watched you reciprocate Ororon’s feelings. She would later apologize for spying since she knew it was wrong, but it filled her with joy to witness the blossoming of love between you. In some ways, this was better than any romance novel she had read in all her years of living, and it warmed her heart to see you both so happy.

Even if it was a childhood fantasy, perhaps Ororon’s wish of marrying you was not that far off now? Citlali certainly hoped so.

☂️ Wanderer

Nahida was no expert on romance, but she had observed enough couples during her 500-year-long imprisonment to know what romantic attraction looked like. The strange air surrounding you and Wanderer must have been that, she speculated, as she watched Wanderer hand you a box of your favorite foods with the flimsy excuse of having made too much. For your part, you seemed genuinely touched by the gesture despite Wanderer’s grumbling, much to Nahida’s delight. Wanderer’s prickly personality pushed some people away, but not you. You stayed by his side and gave him the companionship he needed, helping Wanderer open up and heal from his trauma.

It was clear you deeply cared for the young man, and a little peek into your mind confirmed to Nahida that yes, you did love him romantically. She couldn’t read Wanderer’s mind since he blocked all her attempts to do so, but she didn’t need mindreading to conclude that he loved you too.

When she next spoke with Wanderer, she carefully asked if he loved you. Wanderer’s response was a gruff “No” and “Stop asking”, however Nahida could tell he wasn’t being honest with his feelings. If he didn’t love you, then why did he treat you differently compared to everyone else? His manner of speech is gentler when with you, and despite all his grumbling he still complies with all your requests no matter how irritating he may find them. Not to mention, he spends most of his free time in your company, goes out of his way to make you little gifts and cook your favorite dishes. Surely all these behaviours were proof that you were someone special to him?

Being effectively cornered, the puppet had no choice except to come clean about his hidden feelings. With scowl and a blush on his cheeks, Wanderer reluctantly admitted that yes, he likes you, but it was none of Nahida’s business and she’d better stay out of it.

Despite Wanderer’s warning, the Dendro Archon wanted to help get you together. She felt confident that if both of you put in a little effort, a beautiful romance could blossom between you. Still, she didn’t want to outright reveal your feelings for each other. She believed that each of you should relay these intimate feelings yourselves. All Nahida would do is give you a gentle nudge in the right direction.

To help her with this task, Nahida sought help from a few Aranara and asked them to keep an eye on you and Wanderer and report any meaningful details that could help her bring you together. Through her little helpers, Nahida learned the full extent of Wanderer’s affections for you, and she couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was, especially when it came to you.

Using this acquired knowledge, the Dendro Archon frequently brought up Wanderer in your conversations with her to explain the thoughtfulness behind some of his gifts and words. For as frank as he usually was with people, Wanderer was more close-lipped about the true extent of his feelings, so Nahida had some work cut out for her in making you realize how much he truly cared about you.

For example, the next time Wanderer gave you your favorite food with the excuse that he’d made too much, Nahida revealed to you that he actually spent several days perfecting the recipe before finally giving the dish to you.

That hand-made bracelet he gifted you, saying he got it for free during an arts and crafts event he visited? Wanderer actually made it himself during that event and used beads of your favorite colors. The Aranara watched him spend a lot of time crafting that bracelet with the greatest care, but Nahida left that part out.

In addition, she would subtly drop hints for you to invite Wanderer to hang out more often. For example, the Zubayr Theater was hosting a play and Nahida heard there was a discount if you bought two tickets. Why don’t you go and invite Wanderer to come with you?

As for Wanderer, she discreetly told him that you once mentioned wanting to try out a new drink at Puspa Cafe but had nobody to go with, so why not be a good friend and take you there himself? Wanderer initially objected, but ultimately caved in and invited you to the Café while commenting that a certain annoying sprout said you wanted to try a new drink there, though deep down he glad for the opportunity to spend more time with you. Nahida could tell by the way Wanderer went out of his way to spoil you that day, buying you anything you wanted and keeping you company until the sun set.

Little by little, Nahida softened Wanderer towards the possibility of being in a romantic relationship with you, and helped you gather the courage to confess. Wanderer was unlikely to ever confess first, so the responsibility rested on your shoulders. She could tell you were nervous about laying bare your feelings, but she reassured you that things would go well. You only needed to take that leap of faith.

When you finally confessed, Nahida and the Aranara secretly observed the scene from behind a nearby corner, curious to see how things would go while also quietly cheering you on (not that you knew). When a flustered Wanderer accepted your confession, Nahida was overjoyed. She had fun guiding both of you towards this moment, but the satisfaction of knowing you could finally be together the way you always wished was rewarding in its own way. Even when Wanderer later confronted her about spying on you during your confession and scolded her for it, the little Archon’s happiness didn’t wane. She looked forward to seeing what your newfound relationship would blossom into, and had no doubt it would be something beautiful and pure, just like your love for each other.

👁️‍🗨️ Cyno

It was no secret to Tighnari that you and Cyno liked each other. He had known about your mutual crushes as far back as your student days at the Akademiya where you first met. You became fast friends with him and Cyno, but Tighnari couldn’t help but think Cyno was a bit more special to you than you let on. After all, you were one of the few who wasn’t intimidated by Cyno’s perpetual stern facial expressions and actively sought him out, and who actually laughed at his lame jokes.

Tighnari also knew about Cyno’s crush on you since his friend confided about it to him. Not that Cyno needed to say anything because Tighnari could see his attraction to you clear as day. Cyno’s eyes lit up whenever he saw you in the distance, he tried to act “cooler” in your presence in an attempt to impress you, and Tighnari swore that if Cyno had a tail, it would have wagged like a dog’s every time you laughed at his jokes.

Though he knew about your mutual romantic attraction to each other, Tighnari didn’t want to stick his nose into your love lives. He figured you guys would resolve everything yourselves in due time.

However, nothing changed even after you guys graduated. Your group remained close friends and saw each other regularly, but Tighnari was starting to lose his patience with how you and Cyno hopelessly pined for each other. He had already lost count of the number of times each of you came to him for advice on how to win the other over.

Cyno asked Tighnari’s opinion on a lot of things: Would you like his newest joke? Would you be okay with Cyno volunteering to be your bodyguard for your upcoming desert excursion? Which of his limited edition TCG cards best represented you? Cyno wanted to express how much you meant to him by giving you a card that reminded him of you.

You were no better. Tighnari had lost count of the number of times you approached him with questions about Cyno’s work schedule. Your excuse was that you wanted to plan hangouts with him, Collei, and Cyno during their days off, but Tighnari knew there was another reason why you asked about Cyno’s schedule in particular. He had half a mind to tell you to ask Cyno yourself because it was obvious that you just wanted to spend more time with the General Mahamatra. You also pestered Tighnari with questions about Cyno’s TCG deck. Much like his friend, you wanted to express your appreciation for Cyno by giving him cards he didn’t have yet.

Seriously, you two were a match made in heaven…

Tighnari would have found your mutual crushes on each other endearing, if only he wasn’t stuck being the middleman. As it stood, Tighnari wanted nothing more than to throttle both of you for pussyfooting around your feelings and getting him caught up in being your messenger. He was on the brink of snapping and sitting you both down to explain that your feelings were mutual, so just hurry up and get together already.

That’s why the next time Cyno approached him with another question about you, Tighnari took the opportunity to convince his friend to confess. He and Collei assured Cyno that you liked him a lot, and urged him to tell you his feelings. Cyno was hesitant but did seem to want some closure about whether you liked him back or not, so Tighnari gave him an incentive. How about the next time he played TCG with you, you guys set some stakes? Why not have a rule that the loser must tell the winner a secret? If Cyno lost, he would have to confess.

Cyno wasn’t fond of the idea initially, but agreed after some contemplation, acknowledging that this method would be effective in giving him that necessary push. Still, Tighnari could tell Cyno was nervous about confessing, so he volunteered to come along as moral support, much to Cyno’s gratitude.

That was how Tighnari and Collei found themselves at Puspa Cafe, sitting a few tables away from you and Cyno, hidden from your line of sight. Tighnari tutored Collei while Cyno played that fateful round of TCG against you, but the Forest Ranger kept a close eye on his friend. Though he didn’t want to get too invested in Cyno’s love life, even he couldn’t help but grow anxious as he watched the TCG match end with Cyno’s loss.

Although Tighnari was too far away to hear what Cyno was saying, he could tell the moment of confession had come. Now, the ball was in your court.

You looked stunned by whatever Cyno said, but soon smiled and said something that made Cyno mirror the happy expression on your face and reach out to hold your hand. Though he couldn’t hear, Tighnari knew you had reciprocated his feelings. Even Collei quietly fawned over how cute you both looked. It had been a long journey, but he was truly happy for his friend. Out of everyone, Cyno was happiest with you, and Tighnari hoped you would continue to make him happy for many years to come.

With everything ending well, Tighnari beckoned Collei and discreetly left the cafe before you or Cyno noticed. As happy as he was for you guys, he dreaded the possibility of Cyno coercing them into a TCG match. With how elated his friend must be right now, it was only a matter of time until Cyno called him and Collei over for a new game to celebrate you accepting his feelings. In Tighnari’s opinion, you guys deserved to have some proper time to yourselves to explore your feelings and new relationship without him and Collei serving as thirdwheels. That, and he just really didn’t want to sit through another hour of watching Cyno show off for you.

[bokutosbabe]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° sniper, sniper, sniper ♡ wifey, wifey, wifey

( bllk boys showing you off )

♡ a/n — i just love the tiktok trend so :) ( was going to attach a link to a tiktok showing what i was talking abt but it wouldn't work. just look up sniper sniper sniper wifey wifey marines and you'll see what i meant :) )

♡ content — all characters are 18+ !!, mentions of tiktok & instagram, slight cursing, tbh bad writing, nicknames like 'love' , 'wifey' , and 'my girl' used, probably ooc characters

♡ synopsis — blue lock boys showing off their girlfriend :)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' oh that's your wifey ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...tiktok maker

if there was anyone you would really and truly call chronically online, it would be him. every day he'd come to you with some new word he learned from tiktok, or a meme that would plague your house for weeks until it went away.

so when he pulled out his phone to show you a video, you weren't expecting it to be a couples trend.

" please, please, pleaseee, love? you'd look so cute in my arms like that ! " and he had just won a big game...how could you say no to him?

so here you were, being carried like a bride in your lovely boyfriend's arms. if it were anyone else, you'd be too worried about how long they could hold you, but since it was him you didn't worry.

it took a few tries, each of you messing up a part at least once and you accidentally dropping the phone a few times, but after you figured it out, the video was practically perfect.

they posted it to their public tiktok account with the caption

' not my wifey yet, but soon ;) '

and to say all the notifications were making his phone glitch would be an understatement.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ BACHIRA MEGURU, hiori yo, SHIDOU RYUSEI, chigiri hyoma, OTOYA EITA, isagi yoichi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...instagram poster

maybe, just maybe it was wrong of him.

wrong of him to want to post these pictures the two of you had taken on your date to the aquarium?

if he were any other, normal, person this wouldn't have seemed like a big deal, but since he had at least a million followers and some were a bit more obsessed than others, it was.

you'd told him multiple times that you were okay with him posting you, really if he was happy, you were happy. maybe it was the egoist in him, but he wanted to keep you to himself.

fuck it.

if you wanted to be posted, he was going to post you. who cared what anyone else thought? their opinions didn't mean anything to him.

he selected a few of the pictures the two of you had taken at the aquarium, sneaking one of a lipstick stain on his neck in the middle of the slides.

if he was going to announce his relationship to the public, why not let the world know how utterly whipped he was for you?

the caption was a simple

' gotta love my girl ♡ '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ YUKIMIYA KENYU, karasu tobito, REO MIKAGE, alexis ness, RANZE KURONA, gin gagamaru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...national television?!

the ever illusive pro soccer player. that's what every press agency called your boyfriend.

his ability to somehow dodge any paparazzi and answer very short questions during press conferences made every view into his personal life shine like gold.

based on an instagram story ( that was taken down in less than 10 minutes ) where a picture of him with his arms around a woman in a bathroom mirror, the media could assume he was in a relationship. in that photo, however, the woman's face was not visible, so the questioned still remained...

what woman could capture this mans heart?

he hadn't cared, not really. a photo was nothing to him, but you were everything. he tried really hard to keep your identity private, he didn't want you to be absorbed into a world of cameras always in your face.

but after he made the game winning goal of a very important game...all he wanted to do was see you.

maybe it was the way he could see you in the section you'd always sat, or maybe it was his ego wanting to tell everyone "yeah i'm the best soccer player, and yeah i have the best girl, what about it?"

as all of the adoring fans rushed the field, including you, he just wanted to see you. he knew, realistically, he should just go back to the locker room and come meet you afterwards like he usually did, but not today.

he shrugged off ever reporter and fan that wanted to talk to him, which was nothing new, but instead of leaving to the locker room, they watched as he walked over to you

he knew all eyes were on him, the world still watching...but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he wrapped his arms around your waist

" made that goal for you, ya know? "

you were a little surprised at his appearance, but if he didn't care neither than you.

" i know. "

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, rensuke kunigami, RIN ITOSHI, shidou ryusei, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, sae itoshi

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i think i like her . ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was a midnight brain dump so it's pretty bad, but i hope yall liked it :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[gothwvrm]

it took me even longer to see the nose, knowing that it was supposed to be a nose...

[shysuccubusstuff]

homicipher! men making it fit pt. 1:

Characters: Mr. Crawling + Mr. Scarletta - female reader

Content: non proof-reader; first time males + unexperienced LI + cunnilingus + breeding + unrealistic descriptions + slight obssession + overstimulation.

Note: I hope everyone who has found out about this game a great evening!! I'm so happy that so many people are interested on the game ♡. I'm sorry for those who wish for a neutral reader, I still struggle with it :((. Sorry for taking so long, I'm with uni stuff so this will probably take a while. Let me know if you have suggestions for the next part!! + Sorry if it seems rushed/short I've been letting this marinate for a bit too long...

Mr. Crawling:

Mr. Crawling who has no real idea of what he's doing to you, after all, it was your idea to do this, your hands running down his body as he started to feel something up with him, some strange feeling, like a heat starting to build up.

Mr. Crawling who keeps following your commands, his cold hands trailing down your body before getting rid of your clothes. His fingers tracing your nipples, his slightly warm breath hitting against your ear. His hands then move lower, starting to move towards your underwear, his fingertips tracing your clothed clit. He smiles as soon as he hears your soft moans leave your mouth.

Mr. Crawling who takes his time getting your body ready. He takes as much time as needed, kissing your mouth and using his tongue the way you taught him. At the same time, he uses his hands, one keeps playing with your chest, while the other keeps rubbing against your poor clit, not stopping even as your body was twitching from the overstimulation.

Mr. Crawling who is finally able to get his tip inside of you, his girth making you whine as you try to get used to his size. He keeps you in place, not moving an inch as he kept seeing your brows furrowed, his hands leaving handprints on your skin.

Mr. Crawling who keeps kissing your mouth, his tongue intertwined with yours as he tried to distract you, his cock slowly entering you until he finally bottomed out.

"You good?" Mr. Crawling asked, his hand rubbing against the small bulge that was forming in your tummy. He kept petting your head in slow strokes, almost as if he was trying to keep you as distracted as possible from the feeling.

"Too big, just... give me a moment, please." He nodded, his smiling face looking a bit too happy, for someone that was almost making you go dumb just from his girth.

Mr. Crawling kept you still for a second, just enough for you to finally get a bit more comfortable with him inside. As soon as you nodded to him, allowed him to keep going, his tip was already hitting your poor cervix on a rapid rhythm. Despite your attempts of telling him to slow down, it seemed that your brain was no longer working, perhaps too overwhelmed with the feeling of Mr. Crawling rearranging your insides., so you allowed yourself to be used by him, not caring even as he kept filling your insides once after the other.

By the time you were able to form a sentence, your legs were completely covered with marks, not only fingerprints, but also Mr. Crawling's hickeys, almost as if he was some kind of dog leaving his mark all over you...

Well, he was definitely able to make it fit, I suppose.

Mr. Scarletella:

Mr. Scarletella who almost explodes the second you let him approach you.

Mr. Scarletella who is able to (slowly) make you his, always making his way, even if it took him quite some time.

Mr. Scarletellawho is completely blissed the moment you allow him to become your one and only partner.

Mr. Scarletella who becomes more and more possessive as time goes on.

Mr. Scarletella who decides to try some of the ways he has seen other humans get "close".

Before you realised, he was already cornering you against the cold wall, his frame towering over you.

"Want take?" He is smiling, his hand signaling himself.

"What do you mean?... You want me to take you?" You look at him confused, but he simply answers with an energetic nod. Despite your confussion, you smile at him, not really sure about what he means, but you're sure it won't be dangerous... right?

Suddenly, he moves one of his hands towards his pants, unbuttoning them and lowering them just enough to let his member out, the size almost making you shiver in fear.

"I... I don't think that would fit, how about we leave it for some other time, yeah? Just---" Your words are stopped by his lips crashing against yours, as his hands gripped your hips, easily lifting you up in the air.

"Me want you. Know way to make you mine." He smiled again, although this time it had a slightly creepy undertone.

"I don't think you even know what this is supposed to be--- Fuck where did you even learn about this type of stuff?" You try to get him to put you down, but your attempts have no result, in fact, it's almost as if he tried arder, maybe because of his desperation of feeling truly close to you.

"Need you. Humans taught me, I saw them. Let me do it." His begging eyes end up convincing you, letting your body relax on his grasp and allowing him to start to rub the tip against you.

"Wait! You can't just shove it inside, you need to prepare... the place." He looks confused at you, which somehow makes you feel even more embarrassed. "You can, well, shove your fingers, some people prefer to use the tongue... There's stuff for that but I doubt we have that kind of thing here, you know? So we can just stick to--" Your sentence is once again shortened, as your position is suddenly changed, your legs now resting on his shoulders as he starts to use his tongue to pleasure you, not allowing you to escape from his grip.

"Good, so good. Love you." His words left him even as he kept using his tongue to prepare you, his tongue lapping on your fluids while his hands tried to keep you in place. As he started getting the hang of it, he gently introduced his fingers inside you, his mouth sucking on your clit as he made his way into you, your head starting to spin as the overstimulation became too much.

Mr. Scarletella kept going until you came a few time, devouring the fluids that you kept leaking. Then, he allowed you to rest for a few seconds, letting you breath as he hugged you, keeping you tightly wrapped around his hips. When he saw that your breathing was once again stable, he started to align his dick to your entrance, inserting little by little until he was finally able to thrust as much as you were able to handle due to your small size in contrast with him.

"Good, not afraid?" He petted you, using only one arm to keep you lifted as he started to move himself inside you, just enough to get you panting and bitting on his shoulder. "Too big? You can handle it." He (tried to) reassure you as he kissed your face, peppering soft kisses all over it as he started to move with more strenght, almost as if he was punishing you which forced you to keep your mouth open as lewd moans kept coming out. The sound of your skin hitting against his resonating all over the long corridor where you were, your face flushing just from the thought of being found by anyone of the other ghosts.

Mr. Scarletella was able to fit it, even if it was not the whole thing.

[greengoblinswifey]

Guilty Pleasure—Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

summary— rafe’s obsession with you finally boils over after a night of teasing and intense sexual tension, that leads to you ending up in rafe’s bed and having both of you crave more.

warnings— obsessive!rafe, oral(f!receiving), tit job/titty fucking, tit worship, biting/marking, unprotected sex, praise kink.

a/n— i love women so much that photo turned me on…i need help.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

You sat in front of your mirror, adding the finishing touches to your look. The outfit you chose was a perfect mix of bold and carefree, just like you. The fitted black tank top clung to your figure, revealing a hint of your leopard-print bra underneath, adding an effortless edge. You paired it with denim shorts that showcased your legs, the fabric frayed just enough to make it clear you didn’t care too much but still made a statement.

After adjusting your curls and applying a final coat of lipgloss, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror. The way your brown skin glowed against the mix of textures and fabrics was stunning, and you knew you were ready to turn heads, whether you wanted to or not. You weren’t dressing for anyone but yourself, though you had a feeling someone would be watching closely tonight.

When you walked into Topper’s party, the air practically shifted. Conversations paused as your presence commanded the room, even Ruthie’s fake smile faltered for a moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Rafe Cameron, leaning against the bar with his drink in hand, his eyes locked on you like a predator who just found its prey.

You weaved through the crowd with practiced ease, offering nods and tight-lipped smiles to the other Kooks, ignoring the stares that followed you.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Ruthie’s voice rang out as she spotted you near the drinks table. Her tone carried the same false sweetness that always made you bristle. Topper stood beside her, grinning like he’d accomplished something just by getting you here. You suspected he’d been in cahoots with a certain someone which is why he invited you.

You rolled your eyes subtly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you replied dryly, pouring yourself a drink.

It wasn’t long before you felt eyes on you, more intense than the usual glances. Turning your head slightly, your gaze landed on Rafe leaning against the staircase railing, his sharp features illuminated by the glow of string lights. He didn’t bother to look away when you caught him staring. If anything, his smirk deepened.

Rafe wasn’t subtle—he never was. Whether it was at the country club, the beach, or now here, his gaze followed you like you were the only thing worth seeing in all of Kildare. It annoyed you. No, it infuriated you. But you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing.

“The fuck are you looking at?” you snapped, locking eyes with him.

He pushed off the railing and walked toward you, his steps deliberate. “You, obviously,” he said, his tone low and teasing, a challenge glinting in his blue eyes. He stopped too close, leaning in just slightly as though daring you to shove him away.

“Stop being weird, Rafe,” you muttered, turning back to your drink, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to make the air shift.

“Can’t help it when you’re around,” he replied smoothly. His eyes lingered on your bra before drifting down to your shorts. “You wear that for me?”

Your head snapped up, lips parting in indignation. “You’re delusional,” you shot back, but you felt heat creep up your neck. He always knew how to get under your skin.

“That’s not a no,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he smirked.

Before you could respond, Ruthie’s shrill laughter interrupted the moment, breaking whatever tension had begun to build. You took the opportunity to walk away, leaving Rafe standing there. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, tracking your every step like a predator with its prey.

Music thumped from the speakers, and the crowd ebbed and flowed around you as you navigated your way through Topper’s obnoxiously large beach house after dancing for a bit. You barely had time to grab a drink before you felt his presence again—Rafe, leaning casually against the wall like he owned the place.

“Thank you for gracing me with your presence,” he drawled, his eyes shamelessly dragging down your figure.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink as you turned away. “Don’t start, Rafe.”

“What?” he asked, smirking as he pushed off the wall and stepped closer. “I’m just saying. You look good, that’s all. Better than good, actually.”

“Wow, thanks for the groundbreaking observation,” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “Can I go now?”

But Rafe wasn’t deterred. He trailed after you like a persistent shadow, his charm cranked up to full force. “You know,” he said, leaning down slightly so his face was level with yours, “you’re the only girl in Figure 8 who doesn’t throw herself at me. That’s different. I like different.”

You stopped walking, turning to face him fully. “Maybe that’s because I don’t have time for spoiled rich boys with control issues,” you said sweetly, though your words carried a sharp tone.

Rafe’s grin widened, unbothered by your jab. His eyes flickered down to your chest, where your tank top dipped just enough to reveal the leopard-print bra and your tits underneath. “You really don’t, huh?” he murmured, his gaze lingering far too long.

“Rafe,” you warned, crossing your arms over your chest. “My face is up here.”

“Oh, I know,” he said smoothly, his blue eyes finally meeting yours again. “But can you blame me?”

You laughed, though it wasn’t out of amusement. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re gorgeous,” he countered, leaning in just enough for his voice to drop to a low tone. “So what do you say? Let me take you somewhere quieter. Just to talk.”

You gave him a skeptical look, the corners of your mouth twitching as you fought back a smile. “Talk? That’s rich coming from you.”

“Cross my heart,” he said, placing a hand over his chest in mock sincerity. “No funny business. Unless you want there to be.”

You sighed, glancing around the crowded room. He wasn’t going to let up, and you were tired of his relentless staring. “Fine,” you relented, setting your drink down on the nearest table. “But only to shut you up.”

Rafe’s smirk deepened, and without wasting a second, he led you out of the house and toward his truck parked just outside. The air between you was thick with unspoken words as he opened the door for you, his hand brushing yours as you climbed in.

By the time you reached his place, you were questioning why you’d agreed to come. But the way Rafe looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, left you curious enough to stay.

As you both walked into the house, Rafe led you through the dimly lit living room and into the kitchen, but your patience was already wearing thin. You turned to him, crossing your arms. “So, what was it you wanted to talk about, Cameron?”

He leaned against the counter, his signature smirk tugging at his lips. “We could talk down here, but,” He let his voice trail off, the implication hanging in the air before he added, “It’s more comfortable upstairs. In my room.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “Boy, do not play with me.”

“I’m not,” he said, “I mean, I’m just saying, the bed’s a lot comfier than these barstools.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes but followed him up the stairs anyway, telling yourself it was just easier to humor him than to argue. His hand brushed against your lower back, lingering as it slowly slid lower. You shot him a warning look over your shoulder, but he just raised a brow, clearly unbothered.

Once in his room, he shut the door with a quiet click and locked it, making your stomach twist in a mix of irritation and anticipation. You sat on the edge of his bed, taking in the space—simple, yet distinctly his. Your gaze landed back on him, standing there with that freshly buzzed head, his jawline sharp, and a needy glint in his blue eyes. He wasn’t even subtle about it, his eyes dropped to your chest almost immediately, the intensity of his stare making heat rise to your cheeks.

“What?” you snapped, though your tone lacked any real bite.

“You know exactly what,” he said, stepping closer, his smirk turning downright sinful. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, the room seemed to still. The sexual tension between you was thick, suffocating even, until it snapped entirely.

One second, his eyes were on yours, the next, his lips crashed into yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the fact that this had been a long time coming—or maybe both, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you kissed him back with just as much ferocity, your hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt as he pressed you down onto the bed.

Rafe hovered over you, his lips devouring yours as his hands roamed freely, sliding up your waist and cupping your tits. A low moan rumbled in your throat when his hands squeezed, and he pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, “Pretty fucking moans.”

“Shut up, before I change my mind,” you muttered breathlessly, though your voice betrayed how affected you were.

His lips curved into a grin as he nipped at your jawline. “You won’t,” he said confidently, trailing kisses down your neck and chest. Each touch sent sparks coursing through your body, and by the time he reached your waist, your resolve was hanging by a thread.

He hooked his fingers into your belt, tugging you forward slightly as he unbuckled it and slid it free. “Thought you just wanted to talk,” he teased, his voice low and teasing as he worked your shorts down your legs. His eyes burned into you, taking in every inch of your shamelessly wet pussy.

“Shut up,” you said again, but there was no venom behind it. If anything, your voice was laced with a shaky sort of anticipation.

His mouth found your pussy with a ferocity that made you gasp, your body reacting almost instinctively. He was smug, of course—his low chuckle vibrating against you as you arched off the bed, unable to suppress the moans spilling from your lips. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place even as your legs wrapped around his head.

“Be a good girl,” he murmured against your pussy, his voice dark and commanding. “Cum for me.”

You couldn’t believe it—the audacity of Rafe Cameron, and yet, your body responded before your mind could catch up. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, your head tipping back as you did exactly what he told you to. The room was filled with muffled moans and the sound of his name falling from your lips as you came on his tongue, the feeling leaving you breathless.

Rafe leaned back up, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, his hands roaming your sides. You couldn’t help but grind against him, a desperate rhythm that betrayed how much you wanted him, even if you tried to hold back. He pulled away with a teasing smirk, his voice low and gravelly, “Aw, baby, I thought you just agreed to talk.”

You rolled your eyes, your annoyance barely hiding the heat in your cheeks. “Rafe, just shut up,” you muttered, pulling him back down for another kiss. His chuckle rumbled against your lips, but he didn’t resist, matching your passion.

As your hips pressed against his, you felt the solid evidence of his desire, his hard cock, and it only spurred you on. He finally broke away, his lips brushing against your jaw as he whispered, “You’re driving me crazy.” Sitting up, he tugged his shirt over his head, his toned chest and abs on full display. Then, with deliberate slowness, he removed his pants and boxers, revealing himself fully.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sight, and his smug grin returned. “See how hard I am for you?” he murmured, stroking himself lazily as his gaze traveled over your body. His confidence was annoying, but you couldn’t deny how captivating he looked. He had the package to match too.

Climbing back onto the bed, he hovered over you, his knees on either side of you. “Take off that little top and that sexy bra,” he instructed, his voice dropping an octave. “You’ve been teasing me all night in that hot outfit.”

You hesitated for a moment, savoring the way his eyes pleaded with yours despite his usual cocky demeanor. Then, you slowly lifted your top over your head and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the side. Rafe let out a sharp breath, his eyes widening as he took you in.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, leaning back slightly to admire you. “The famous tits everyone talks about—but I’m the only one lucky enough to see them like this.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes again. “It’s gonna be your first and last time,” you shot back, though your voice lacked any real bite.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss the curve of your neck. “We’ll see about that,” he teased before whispering against your skin, “Now, hold those tits together for me, baby.”

You hesitated briefly, your hands moving to frame your chest, and he let out a deep, appreciative sigh. “God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured, his gaze fixed intently as he shifted closer.

He leaned down, positioning himself between your tits, his breath hitching as his movements became slow and deliberate. “You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this,” he admitted, his voice husky and raw.

His eyes flickered to yours, and you saw something unguarded there, something almost vulnerable beneath his confident smirk. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and seeing you like this, it’s unreal.”

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, your teasing side showing despite the heat in the room. “You’ve got one chance, Cameron,” you said softly.

He let out a low chuckle, leaning down to kiss the curve of your neck, his lips warm and lingering. “One chance is all I need,” he whispered against your skin, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

He started moving his cock between your tits, going back and forth as he let out breathy whimpers. You couldn’t deny how hot he sounded and how fucking sext it was to have him titty fuck you.

“Fucking hell, your tits are perfect,” he moaned, bucking his hips between them.

“I know, that’s why they’re always on display,” you laughed.

You darted your tongue out, each time he thrusted forward, you got a taste of his leaking tip, the pre cum smearing all over you. He lulled his head back, gasping as the sensation of your tongue and between your tits became almost overwhelming.

You spat on the tip and he took the opportunity to smear it all over you, getting your chest a tad bit sloppy.

“You should see how hot you look right now, all f’me,” he smirked.

As he thrusted, you held your tits together even tighter, gliding it up and down his thick cock. The action coupled with your tongue licking his tip had his head spinning, and he knew his ego was going to be bruised for coming quick. Then again, it was with you, anyone would cum quick too.

“S-shit baby, that’s so fucking hot, holy fuck, m’ gonna cum,” he whimpered, frantically, “I— I can’t fucking hold it.”

You began gliding against him faster, feeling how he throbbed and twitched in anticipation. “Cum all over my tits, I know you want to,” you teased, a seductive edge in your voice.

“Ahh— holy shit, oh God,” Rafe moaned, looking down at you as his cum spurted from his cock. You opened your mouth, catching some of his load as the rest coated your tits leaving them a sloppy mess.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” he panted, staring intently as you swallowed his cum and your tongue darted out to lick what was on your chest, “that was even better than any head I’ve ever gotten.”

“It’s me, not a surprise,” you said in a cocky tone.

By now he was aching for you, you hoped he didn’t notice how badly you were aching for him too. You couldn’t believe in a million years you’d be desperate for Rafe Cameron to shove his dick inside you.

“I’m still so fucking hard baby, gotta let me fuck you,” he urged.

“Shut up Rafe, I don’t gotta let you do anything,” you murmured, rolling your eyes, “now sit on the fucking bed.”

If you were going to let Rafe fuck you, it would be on your terms. You would be the one fucking him. Just this one time. Well just enough to have him craving more when you’re finished.

He eagerly did as instructed, positioning himself against the headboard, his cock leaking and standing at attention. With a dick that big no wonder he acted the way he did. Straddling him, you sucked on his neck leaving dark red marks so he’d have a few days to reflect on what happened between you.

“Please sit, baby, I need that pussy,” he whined.

“Beg me,” you retorted.

He looked up at you, eyes filled with need and disbelief, “You know me sweetheart, I don’t fucking beg.”

You let out an unamused laugh and sat on his thigh instead of his cock, your arousal smearing him. “Well, I guess you won’t get to be inside me, I knew you weren’t worth my time.”

“W-wait, no, please baby. Please let me fuck you, I’ve never needed anyone this bad. I need to be inside you, I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he whined, frantically.

Having Rafe Cameron of all people plead to be inside you was more than what you bargained for tonight and you were enjoying every minute of it.

Slowly, you sank down onto him, the sensation beyond anything you’d ever felt. His cock hit all the right places inside you and filled you to the brim. Though you tried to hold back, you couldn’t help the soft moans that left your lips.

“Fuck,” you moaned, shakily.

The faint glow from the bedside lamp casted warm shadows across Rafe's features as you slammed yourself up and down his cock. His hands found their way to your waist, gripping firmly as you rode him with purpose.

“Yeah? Feels good doesn’t it,” Rafe said, his tone cocky.

You responded with a bite to his shoulder, sinking your teeth in as you began bouncing faster. His head tipped back, giving you more access as you left your teeth mark on his neck.

“Fuck baby, that feels so good,” he moaned. He didn’t strike you as the type to enjoy being marked but you were into it.

“God, I’ve always loved watching this ass,” he murmured, his hands sliding over it. “Now I finally get to feel it bouncing on dick.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you leaned forward, capturing his lips in a deep kiss to silence him. The intensity of the moment enveloped you both. You felt the stretch and fullness, every inch of him, while the rhythm of your movements sent waves of heat through your body.

Rafe’s blue eyes locked on yours, his gaze glassy and overwhelmed. “You wanna cum for me baby? Cum all over this cock,” he whispered, his voice ragged.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as your breaths quickened, your orgasm building until it erupted, leaving you trembling in his arms. He moaned low in his throat, gripping your hips as he followed your lead, his movements growing more erratic.

“Can I— Can I cum inside you?” he asked, breathlessly. You narrowed your eyes, your lips curling into a smirk. “In your dreams,” you teased, sliding off him before he came.

Rafe didn’t miss a beat. He positioned himself over you as you lay back, watching him with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. His breaths were shallow, his body taut, and he released with a guttural moan, his cum spreading across your tits as he lost himself.

Still catching his breath, Rafe collapsed beside you, running a hand through his buzzed hair. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” he admitted.

“Glad to help,” you replied, slipping off the bed to grab your clothes. But before you could get far, his hand gently tugged at yours. “No, stay,” he said, his blue eyes looking up at you with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

For a moment, you hesitated. But the way he looked at you—soft, almost pleading—made you stop. Just this once, you told yourself. Climbing back into the bed, you let Rafe pull you into his arms. His fingers lightly grazed your skin, his hand resting on your waist before sliding up to rest on your tits.

“Didn’t think you were the cuddling type,” you teased, your voice light.

He smirked, burying his face into your neck. “I’m not.”

The warmth of his body against yours felt unexpectedly comforting, and as his breathing evened out, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a moment you’d remember longer than you intended and if it wasn’t the last time.

[glyphalodon]

anyway this took way too long

[innerfare]

Apologizing To You 

Summary: How do they apologize to you? (Similar to Fighting and Making Up but oh well.)

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy: 

You thought it would be more difficult to get Luffy to apologize considering he’s not above bickering and arguing and can be so freaking stubborn. But the thing is, Luffy’s emotional intelligence is through the roof and he always senses when you’re really hurting. That being said, he thinks it’s important for you to say so, so he won’t just do it. If you ask, though, he won’t hesitate. He might even grin and ask you why you took so long. 

Zoro: 

For the most part, he’s not one to apologize. He’s incredibly stubborn and doesn’t let those words leave his lips easily, to the point you’ve had several arguments that were far bigger than they should have been. He’s a stubborn bastard, and he’s very proud. He’s also opposed to giving gifts as an apology as he thinks that cheapens it. When he does feel the need to apologize, he’ll do so verbally and quite simply (and privately, for his pride); he would really never do anything to you that would require anything beyond that. 

Sanji: 

You need only ask. Sanji would do anything for you, even swallow his pride. In fact, he’s so quick to apologize, he sometimes tries to speed run the process and might even get his feelings a little hurt if he’s ready to apologize but you’re not ready to accept it yet, but he’s mature enough not to let that turn into another fight. He’s also one to show up outside your window with a bouquet of flowers or another gift to sweeten the deal. He’ll apologize even if you were in the wrong just to jumpstart the making up process. 

Ace: 

Arguing is tough for him, but so is apologizing- not necessarily because he’s too proud to admit when he’s wrong, but because he’s too scared. He fears admitting that he was wrong will cause you to leave him, and this insecurity can be difficult to navigate. He usually ends up shutting you out rather than rushing over to you to apologize, but once you do approach him, usually offering something to eat as a peace offering, he’ll quickly accept fault and apologize for anything and everything. 

Sabo: 

Such a sweetheart but also competitive. You’re the only one (except his brothers, maybe) who knows just how attentive and caring Sabo can be, a far cry from the reckless young man who never seems to listen to a word anyone says, and you’re most likely to experience it after a fight. The two of you have a chosen spot- a pink peach tree on Momoiro Island- and it’s usually Sabo who finds himself waiting there (let’s face it, he’s more likely to say something insensitive than you are). He usually apologizes with a sheepish grin and a peach he plucked from the tree. 

Law: 

Attempting to wring an apology out of him is no good. He has to do it in his own time, and he will, usually no more than two or three days. He prefers to do it under the cover of darkness, without any eyes watching or ears listening except yours, climbing into bed beside you and muttering an apology into your ear, pressing warm kisses into your hand until you melt and are receptive enough to forgive him. Also not opposed to writing an apology on a scrap of paper and slipping it into the book you’ve been reading because he communicates much better that way.

Kid: 

Really not one for heartfelt apologies. Also not one to notice he did something wrong. Eventually he’ll notice you’re upset, but only because you haven’t been sitting in his workshop as much, and kicked him when he rolled on top of you in his sleep. But he’s at a complete loss as to why and ends up snapping at you over it. When you tell him what’s wrong, he’ll grunt out an apology and probably propose you work out your frustration on him in a way that’s enjoyable for you both. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

NINE YEARS LATE

EDDIE MUNSON x F!READER

A yearly Halloween tradition, zombie films and best friends who touch too much for it to not mean anything. 4K of fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

When you met Eddie Munson at eleven years old, he pointed at your exorcist t-shirt and asked what your favourite horror movie was.

To anyone else it might have been strange, the way the boy's eyes were so bright, his expression caught between nervous and excited like nothing else at that time was more important than the answer you were about to give.

But you gave it with a shy grin and without hesitation, watching a little stunned as the boy brightened and his lips stretched wide into a beaming smile that, even then, left your heart warm and you completely powerless to resist the hand that circled your wrist and yanked you down onto the grass beside him.

He took a cookie from his lunchbox and pressed it into your hand, skin smudged with chocolate and pride in his voice when he told you how he had sneakily watched Night of the Living Dead when his uncle wasn't home and that was now his favourite.

You wrinkled your nose a little as you ate, unable to help the reaction because you didn't understand the zombie appeal, cheeks flushing when Eddie caught it too and threw both hands to his chest, his back hitting the ground with a thud as he flung himself down, like you'd personally betrayed everything he held dear.

"Don't tell me you don't like zombies!" He'd gasped in horror, struggling not to grin when he lifted himself up on his elbows and noticed, far too pleased, that despite the way you had hid your face in your hands, there was a telltale smile in your voice at his theatrics.

"I don't not like them exactly." You countered, eyes appearing above your fingers to watch the way the boy snorted and quirked a disbelieving brow in your direction before you allowed your hands to fall away, huffing. "I mean it! It's not that I hate them or anything, they just give me creeps."

He nodded at your shirt. "And demonic possession doesn't?"

"No?"

'Weirdo." He mumbled, voice soft, and then almost immediately winced, his eyes darting worriedly to yours because what if you didn't catch the way his tone turned fond as he said it? He didn't want you to think he was being mean like so many other kids were in Hawkins when someone wasn't like them.

But then you laughed, the sound clear and sweet, and there was relief in Eddie's chest mixed with a little awe, something innocently adoring because even though he would never admit it, he was pretty sure that was his new favourite sound in the whole world.

'Says the boy who thinks a zombie movie is the best horror." You teased, tongue poking out at him when he shook his head and aimed a playful little kick to your leg, scuffed trainers nudging at your thigh.

There was a moment of easy silence that followed, a few beats where the two of you shared soft, toothy grins before the boy ducked his head and you tipped yours back to gaze at the cloudy autumn sky, fingers twisting in the grass whilst joy swirled in your chests at this new found friendship.

It was impossible to miss the exact second he had the idea, the way he scrambled to sit upright, all long arms and gangly legs because even back then Eddie had been tall for his age. The grin that stretched his cheeks was wild, excitement crackling from him as he scooted closer until he was sat directly in front of you, knees brushing against yours.

"There's only one way to settle this." He blurted suddenly, pleased when your startled gaze turned instantly curious, body leaning forward to signal he had your full attention. "We have a movie marathon. You can come to mine and we can watch both of our favourites and maybe a few more and then we rank them."

You nodded slow, thoughtful , the sharp trill of the bell signalling the end of recess making you jump and Eddie groan. "Okay. That sounds fun. But what if we can't agree on what ranks first?"

Eddie rose ungracefully to his feet and you had to shield your eyes from the low burning sun when you looked up at him, light dousing him in gold that made his eyes look like pools of warm caramel when he grinned down at you and offered you his hand.

"Then we keep having marathons until we do."

**

Nine years later and you Eddie still hadn't agreed.

You were beginning to think you never would. Or maybe even if by some miracle you did, you still wouldn't tell the boy that had become your best friend the moment he'd asked you that question in the playground.

Because it had become your tradition now. These marathons that you had every October 1st without fail because that was the same date that you showed up at Eddie's door for the very first time, a box of cookies in your hand that your mom had sent you over with and a beaming smile that had matched his when he'd flung the door wide open and pulled you inside.

You weren't sure when it became your favourite day of the year or when Eddie became your favourite person but it did and so did he. Never happier than when you were surrounded by warm blankets with a hot chocolate cradled in your hands.

There was always plates piled with freshly baked goods on your laps, movies playing that you sometimes wouldn't remember the names of after and your face pressed to the boy's collarbone when things occasionally got too scary. His arm looped around your shoulder so he could murmur, soft and sweet, against your hair. "It's okay, it's nearly over."

You also weren't too sure when your feelings for your best friend began to change, only that they most definitely had.

He was still the same Eddie, your Eddie. He was big, warm eyes and startlingly pretty grins, an energy that made you think of bottled lightning, the kind you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, beautiful and utterly unruly.

He was all-encompassing hugs, tangled limbs in a too small bed when one of you stayed the night because even if you were to lay at the other end, the boy would somehow still find his way to you in his sleep, strong arms pulling you tight to his chest and a happy sigh on his lips.

But somewhere through the years, through the horrors that started on the screen where they should have stayed but then seemed to leech into your real lives, the familiar touches came more frequently and hands lingered long enough that it caused pulses to spike. Hugs got a little longer too, a little tighter.

There was a reluctance to let go when mornings came around, no longer shy or embarrassed when streams of pinkish gold filtered through the window and stirred you awake only to find the two of you were once again moulded around each other, fingers linked between your bodies.

Instead it felt right, like that was how you belonged. A Feeling that only grew with each year that passed.

Each October 1st that you refused any other plans because this was yours and Eddie's day. Every time you turned up to the other's homes, sitting a little too close on the couch than was considered friendly, eyes drifting to watch each other instead of whichever person was fighting for their lives on the tv when you thought you wouldn't get caught.

It grew, blooming wild and stubborn in your chest, snaking around each rib, until you were forced to admit to yourself that you were in love with him.

And that scared you more than any horror movie ever could.

**

"Sweetheart, you're supposed to be watching this, not hiding through the whole thing."

The admonishment in Eddie's voice was weak - too soft to be truly serious and even if you couldn't tell by the boy's tone, the way he grinned at you when you finally lowered your mug, with what he thought was the most adorable pout on your face, immediately gave him away.

It made you poke your toes into his jean clad thigh in retaliation, a choking gasp of faux betrayal bubbling past your lips when he caught at your ankle and tickled your foot with quick fingers before you could yank it back under the safety of the blanket he'd thrown over you earlier.

You were a lot less mad than you would have been had it been anyone else and christ if Eddie didn't know it, his eyes bright even in the low flickering light of the room and the pillow of his lower lip caught between his teeth to choke down a laugh as he threateningly wriggled his fingers at you once again.

Glaring at the boy across from you, there was a half hearted grumble to your voice when you aimed a nod towards the person being ripped apart by the undead horde on the screen and told him. "You know this wouldn't be a problem if you didn't bring a zombie movie nearly every year."

The noise he made in response told you that wasn't going to happen. But as he leant forward, stretching over to the coffee table to grab a cookie that he then practically inhaled, you could feel his eyes on you. The way he was silently checking if you actually thought the movie was too much or if you were just playing up because you liked to mess with him.

"You want me to turn it off? We could put the next movie on?" He asked in the way he always did, a little teasing but still sweet, touched with hope because you both knew what he would ask next when you shook your head, determined like you always were to sit through the movie just because Eddie loved it.

And you tried to not let it show on your face the way your heart fluttered and swooped in the cage your ribs when he opened his arms the moment you gave your answer, looking far more enticing than you thought a best friend ever should.

All wrapped in a large sweater with sleeves that drooped over his ringed fingers, cosy blankets tossed over his lap and curls still messy from the weather outside.

It really was unfair just how fucking pretty Eddie was.

"Wanna come here?" He murmured in a way that made your cheeks warm, your pulse jumping from fear that he'd caught the way you were staring and his lips tugging up into a soft grin when he added. "Promise I'll keep you safe from zombies."

You narrowed your eyes like it was an offer that you needed to consider - something that took a ridiculous effort considering how badly you suddenly ached to fall into the boy.

In return he rolled his own at the suspicious gaze that you flicked over him - from his fondly exasperated expression to the hands that made impatient little grabbing motions whilst you fought back a smile and warned. "Only if you don't tickle me again."

There was a soft snort when he laughed, grin turning impish as he took matters into his own hands and reached over to pluck your mug from your fingers, placing it on the table before catching you in a gentle grip. "I swear on Dustin's mother I won't tickle you again. Now c'mere."

And so you went - with a shake of your head to hide your smile, you let yourself be pulled into him.

Desperately trying to ignore the way your skin buzzed beneath his touch as he lifted the blanket and folded you tight into his side, waiting for you to throw your arm around his waist and swing your legs over his lap until there was no part of you left that wasn't pressed up against him.

He looked like he was trying and failing to hide how pleased he was as he drew the blanket over the two of you and you all but melted in his arms. Corners of his lips quirking and a soft dusting of pink creeping over his cheeks when his hand automatically began stroking over your hair and you let slip a quiet little sound that was half sigh, half moan - his body still burning despite the innocence of it.

For a little while after that an easy silence fell over you both, a sense of contentment that couldn't be broken by the sounds of gore that came from the screen.

Eddie smelt like Autumn with every slow inhale you took, like cold, night air and smoke, spice from the cologne you bought him two birthdays ago and the cinnamon off the pastries you'd baked especially for that night that he'd almost completely devoured within half an hour of sitting down.

He was warm in a way that felt like safety when he wrapped you up in him like this and it was all too easy to forget how much the movie had previously made your stomach turn slightly. Now barely even batting an eye when somebody screamed because you were too happy being lulled by the rise and fall of Eddie's chest beneath your cheek and the weight of his head rested atop of your own.

You watched the screen with an almost foggy type of interest. A little dazed by the hand that had previously been playing with your hair now slipping down, fingers dancing over the nape of your neck and down your spine to where it eventually stopped. Palm moulded flat to the dip in your back - the heat of it searing through your shirt.

His other hand was curved around your knee - thumb stroking soft circles on the inside that made a tremor sweep over your skin.

It took you far too long to realise when he eventually spoke, oblivious to his smile, the question he pressed to your hair at your shiver, until your trance was broken by the rumble of a soft laugh when a beat too long passed without any response.

Gentle fingers that had previously been resting on your knee were now hooking beneath your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his as he dipped his head to look at you in a way that made your mouth run dry.

"Still with me there sweetheart?" He asked. Voice low, hushed, a little rougher and less teasing than you think he had intended it to be.

And suddenly the room felt a little warmer than before, an electricity present that crackled in the limited space between your bodies.

You swallowed hard, stomach twisting, the sounds of horror in the background fading to a mere hum as you nodded. Your breath hitched when your nose brushed his but you made no move to pull back and if the boy heard it, he didn't say anything. "M'here." You whispered. "What- what did you say?"

In the near-dark you watched him bite back a strained smile, curls bouncing as he shook his head ever so slightly, not at you, but at the way he suddenly felt tongue tied. Frozen with his fingers still cupping your chin and his mind alarmingly blank because you were just so close and fuck, what was it that he'd said again?

"I uh," He stumbled, words a little awkward as he attempted to subtly clear his throat." I was just wondering how you can't watch a zombie movie without hiding behind me, which to be clear, I am not complaining about , but when we got attacked by demon bats you were totally fucking fearless."

You felt flushed at how awestruck he sounded, gaze lowering and your hand coming to clasp his wrist, touch gentle on the scars that only recently healed there. "I was hardly fearless Eds." You muttered.

But the boy was already tutting, an argument ready on his tongue before you could finish your dismissal.

"Babe, I watched you decapitate one of those things with an oar like it was nothing." He grinned, feeling a little more daring as he grazed his thumb just below your lip, eyes dark on you as your lashes fluttered and you swayed further into the touch. "It was the most metal thing I've ever seen, maybe the hottest too."

He added the last part like a whisper and maybe it was the way you felt too fuzzy, not quite connected to your brain - a little too lovesick and touch-drunk from the way Eddie was surrounding you. The words that set your blood alight.

Or maybe it was just that the credits were rolling on a movie the two of you had barely watched because you'd been too focused on each other, the room falling into the type of darkness that made you a little less afraid of giving away your feelings for the boy.

But you found yourself telling him, unflinchingly honest and without a second thought. "I was only like that because they tried to hurt you, I was beyond terrified until then."

"Is that so?" Eddie mused. He was beaming like you'd just said the best thing he'd ever heard, like having proof of you being murderous at the idea of him being hurt was enough to light the boy up from the inside and make his features glow with a new softness.

You only hummed in response, heart suddenly in your throat, pulse fluttering wildly and you briefly wondered if Eddie could feel it when his hand slipped along your jaw. Thumb teasing along the edge and fingers warm on your neck.

"So if we ever got attacked by an undead horde instead of bats and cat-eating lizards?"

You laughed, shrugging. "Then I guess I'm beheading some zombies."

It was meant to be a light comment but it made the air around you grow heavy, like you couldn't move away even if your life depended on it, when he pressed his forehead to yours with a little theatrical groan.

The way his eyes bore into yours under the dark fringe of his lashes making you breath catch, lungs tight when he teased. "Careful babe, with that kind of talk I might think you're trying to make me fall in love with you."

You don't know what possessed you, the words spilt passed your lips before you could catch them.

"What if I was?"

You felt more than heard the sharp inhale of his breath, the way he froze beneath you, slack-jawed, eyes wide and searching like he was nervous of the possibility you'd suddenly laugh and tell him you were only joking.

But then he seemed to find something in the shyness of your own gaze that made his turn bold, his hand on your back pressing you that little bit firmer against him as he shifted to turn into you fully.

The smile tugging at his lips was one you'd never seen before, the type he only ever gave when he was sure you weren't looking because there was no doubt in his mind that every ounce of love he had for you was written all over his face.

And Eddie swallowed hard before he spoke, his voice shot, affection flooding through the cracks, whilst he bumped his nose to yours. "Then I'd say you're about nine years too late."

Oh.

Wait-

You made a choked sound of surprise as you jerked back to look at him, stunned, fingers curling tight into his jumper and the warm skin of his wrist so you could steady yourself.

"Nine years?" You repeated, feeling dumbstruck whilst Eddie laughed.

But then he was cupping your cheeks with both hands, drawing you back to him with a grin that was all dimples and soft honey eyes and it felt like your heart would burst in your chest when the moment he was confident he had your full attention, he told you. "Sweetheart, I was a goner from the moment you showed up on my doorstep."

"Oh."

It felt like you'd been utterly floored.

It hit you that through all the years that you'd been in love with your best friend you had never truly considered a reality where he felt the same, and now you had no clue how to react.

However you were suddenly, painfully aware of all the times where you'd ached to touch him in a way that you'd then had to remind yourself wasn't allowed, all the time you could have spent learning what his lips felt like on yours, how he tasted. How long you could have called him yours if you both hadn't been so scared.

It felt like a crime to let it go on any longer.

"Eddie?" You whispered, nerves like a champagne fizz in your belly that then spread all the way to your fingers and toes as your eyes fluttered closed at his breath on your lips.

You could smell cinnamon and smoke, a hint of mint underneath, and god, you'd never craved something so bad as you did him.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

He sounded no better than you - voice hoarse - a little wrecked. Thumbs digging into the hinges of your jaw like he was desperate to keep you anchored to him as he waited with baited breath for you to ask.

"Can I kiss you?"

His mouth was on yours before you could finish.

Soft and sweet at first despite the energy you could practically feel thrumming beneath his skin. You swallowed the groan that almost immediately slipped from his throat, both hands coming up to clutch at his wrists as he tugged you closer, tilting your jaw so he could deepen the kiss - lips sliding over yours again and again as you clung to him.

When you parted, it was only for a handful of seconds. A beat to catch your breath, to stare at each other like you couldn't believe this was finally happening. But then you caught sight of Eddie, eyes burning dark and hooded, lips swollen with your kisses, and it already felt like far too long.

Clearly Eddie felt the same.

The kiss became demanding when you crashed back together, greedy lips and greedy hands, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before hungrily licking into your mouth. And then you were being pulled onto his lap, soft thighs falling open for him to fit beneath you and the prettiest moan you'd ever heard coming from the boy as your hips settled flush over his.

You gasped against him, a desperate noise that sent heat rushing to your cheeks, when his hand slipped under your shirt to grip your waist. Dizzy at the contrast of cold rings and warm fingers that were gently neading your skin, making you melt further into him than you thought possible.

It made him grip you that little bit harder, squeeze a little tighter to see if you'd make the same sweet sound for him again and Eddie felt like he'd go wild when you did. Like he could lose himself right there and then, with your fingers buried in his curls and your mouth hot on his, because you were all he could think about, see, hear and smell.

He was drowning in you and if you asked anything of him in this moment you can be damn sure that he'd do it in a fucking heartbeat if it meant you'd continue looking at him the way you were when your lips finally parted and you swayed back.

You were all soft smiles and slightly glassy eyed - a bit drunk on the way your best friend had kissed you like he would die if he didn't - and he couldn't resist stealing another, a second and then a third. Quick and a little clumsy because Eddie was smiling too.

There was so much warmth in your chest it felt like you could burst with it. All the emotions and feelings for the boy that you'd buried for so long now free to bloom wild and unhindered in the spaces between your ribs.

You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that poured past your lips, grinning so hard it hurt as he pressed his forehead to yours, thumbs stroking circles over your sides whilst he tried to pull you even closer.

'Strange." You mumbled, soft and a little drawn out like you were just waiting for him to ask.

He didn't let you wait long, nose brushing yours, heart-achingly indulgent.

"What is?"

"I think I've changed my mind about zombie movies, maybe they're not so bad after all."

[valerings]

𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎.

݁ᛪ༙ summary: after millenia of being sealed away in an underground cave with copious amounts of gold and jewels known as the 'Abyss', an unexpected visit from a certain dragon hunter didn't seem all too bad.

݁ᛪ༙ warnings: nsfw content, unprotected sex, monster fucking, marking (biting, claw marks, etc), creampie, attempted double penetraion (his tail), mild choking (reader being choked), fingering, riding, begging, teasing, praise, degradation, sylus being possessive, ooc sylus, dragon hunter! reader, fem!reader (Imk if i missed anything!)

݁ᛪ༙ authors note: first time writing for sylus but the brain rot from his new myth card is getting to me.. so apologies if he seems ooc :( reader doesn't have much dialogue because i find it a little awkward so apologies for that too. dividers and warning credits go to @cafekitsune !!

tags 🏷️ ~ @lunacielooo @chaieanne @stxrrielle @theimmortalbuns @kamisatomay018 @bbieainee @reika-desu @loraleiii @cecesilver @brekkers-whore @pirana10 @liz9898 @monster-effer @lunaizhere @pastelpeachess @sohavaa @itsizumiiii @krikalovesstay @jayhyunglover

"Before you tried to kill me," his deep voice rings in your ear, pulling you out of your pleasure induced state. his bare chest pressed against your back, the red gem carving its mark onto your skin. his large hand holding your head up by your jaw, long and dragon-like claws gently scratching the sides of your face. "Did you consider that it'd end like this?" he taunts, his other large and clawed hand firmly gripping your hip, his grip almost bruising your skin as he kept you pinned down against the gold riddled ground.

truthfully, this hadn't been what you imagined when you took up that bounty.. an impossibly huge reward would be given to whoever was brave and or stupid enough to bring back the head of the wicked creature that had been sealed away. maybe it was your pride that led you to accepting that bounty, or your greed that whispered in your mind once your eyes laid upon the prize money. though, you wouldn't say you were too upset about being split open and ravaged by this supposed 'wicked' creature. if your mind wasn't overwhelmed with pleasure, you'd be humiliated by the loud and wet sounds that echoed through the cavern whenever he pumped his fingers into your sopping hole.

"You're so wet.. if it weren't for your weapon, i would've thought you came here for another kind of 'reward'." he teases, almost like he's mocking just how wet you were while his lithe fingers were knuckles deep into your pussy. your cheek pressed against the cold gold coins on the ground, his long scorpion like tail teasingly caressing your calves before slowly inching up to your thighs, pulling away to run down your legs once more when the sharp tip barely grazes your heat. even with your back turned to him, you could feel the smug smirk on his face as he laps up soft gaps and low moans that gradually slipped out your lips.

"Is this what you really wanted, miss hunter? What a dirty girl.. was the bounty just an excuse for you to venture down here?" a choked out moan clawed its way out your throat as his clawed fingers curled upwards against the soft spongy spot inside of you, his reaction more amused than anything. so that's where you liked it..

"Don't think i'll let you go that easily, sweetie. After your little attempt at trying to kill me, i think a punishment is warranted, no?" he whispered lowly into your ear, his lips moving further down before hovering above the side of your neck. he can practically hear your blood pumping, fear and arousal coursing your veins as his sharp teeth neared your skin. the tightness in his pants worsens as you let out a surprised gasp that slowly turned into a soft whimper when he sunk his teeth into your skin, creating the first of many marks to come.

"Don't forget. If i apply anymore pressure at this very spot.. Your heart will never beat again." he murmured into your ear, his hand moving down your jaw to hold your neck while his thumb applied gentle pressure to the bite mark he made on your neck. his fingers uncharacteristically gentle as they apply small amounts of pressure to your throat, enough to make you feel slightly lightheaded and dazed. the said mark forming an intricate design, black markings taking place on your skin. he can feel your slick drenching his fingers, letting out an amused huff as you whined when he slipped his fingers out of your heat.

he brings his hand up to your mouth, your slick coating his long fingers as he placed the pads of his middle and ring finger on your bottom lip. "Suck." he commanded, satisfied with your response when you open your mouth, tasting yourself on his fingers as you licked them clean. "Good girl." he praised, teasingly nibbling on shell of your ear. he tensed a little when he felt the subtle rub of your ass against his bulge, his long and sharp tail wrapping around your thigh in a warning to hold still.

"Such a greedy little thing.." he almost scoffs, in a particular merciless mood today. "If you want it so badly, beg for it. Beg like the good slut you are." he ordered, his tail uncurling itself from your thigh before he shifted off of you, his tall frame saunters back to where he was originally sat when you entered the cavern. he looks down at you expectantly, his dragon wings tucked behind his back while his tail curled slightly. it pissed you off how he acted like you were the desperate one in this situation when you could clearly see the bulge in his pants.

you swallowed your pride, shifting to your knees before inching closer to where he was sat before looking up at him with an expression akin to a kicked puppy to gain some sympathy points from the man. "Please..? I apologise for intruding on your space, just please.. i need it." you don't miss the way his smirk widened as you begged, seemingly satisfied as he patted his lap as an invitation for you. you rose to your feet, gasping in surprise when his tail yanked you down onto his lap, his bulge right by the entrance of your wet pussy.

"Go on, since you 'need it' so badly. Prove it, sweetie." he taunted, cocking his head to the side as he watched you fumble with the buckle to his belt. he keeps his eyes on your face as you unzip his pants, sucking in a little hiss as you pulled his boxers down, his thick cock slapping his stomach. as expected of a dragon, he was huge.. even just looking at his cock made you nervous.

"Don't tell me you're getting nervous now, where was all that sass when you first came down here?" he scoffed, leaning back a little as he observed your nervous expression. were all humans as cute as you?

"Screw you.." you murmured in a fit of embarrassment and frustration at his taunts, which didn't go unnoticed by him at all.

his eyes darkened at your words, though still maintaining his smirk. "Oh? Well then.." before you could even react, his large hands gripped your hips before hoisting you up, positioning your body right above his hard cock before letting go of your hips. a gasp escaped your lips when his tail wrapped around your waist to push you down on his cock, letting out a sharp moan as you felt his cock stretching your hole. the tip of his cock nudged against your sweet spot, your eyes screwed shut as you tried to adjust to the sheer size of his cock.

"Come now, is this all you can handle? You said you 'needed it', no?" he snickered, a hand snaking up to your hip, a false comforting touch as his sharp claws dragged against skin, leaving red marks in their wake. your slick started to pool and drip down his cock, coating your inner thighs. despite how unbothered he seemed, you could feel the subtle twitch of his cock inside of you whenever you shifted on his cock. your hands came up to grip his shoulders, your back arched as you lifted your hips up before bringing them back down on his cock, a few experimental bounces. a thin coat of sweat covered your body from the searing heat of his thick cock inside of you.

"Don't tell me this is all you've got, miss hunter.." his teasing voice brought you out of your concentration, the way he merely smirked as you glared at him pissed you off. his tail wrapped a little tighter around your waist, seemingly tired of being patient. his tail gripping your waist pushed you down on his lap, eliciting a cry from you as his cock plunged impossibly deeper into your cunt. before you could process it, his tail brought your hips up into the air before slamming you back down on his cock, again and again until it formed a steady rhythm.

"There we go, good girl.. That's it." he praised, red eyes raking over your body as sharp moans escaped your lips whenever his cock nudged against your sweet spot continuously due to the sheer size of his cock. he didn't mind the feel of your nails digging into his broad shoulders, only letting out a low growl when he felt your walls clench around him. his tail guided your movements, bouncing your body up and down on his cock. a whimper escaped your mouth as you felt the sharp tip of his tail graze your cunt, your body twitched as he teasingly rubbed your clit with the tip of his tail.

"You think it'll fit, sweetie?" a low chuckle came from him as you immediately shook your head, if his cock was enough to get you panting and struggling to take him all the way, there was no way his tail would fit inside your tight cunt. "Shame, humans are always so fragile.." he hummed, sucking in a hiss as he felt your walls tighten around his length once more. his own hips bucked up into your heat, matching the way your body bounced on his cock due to his tail guiding your body.

he could feel the way your body twitched and tensed, your pupils wide while your mouth hung open, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips. he doesn't miss the way your body gradually leaned against his, your chest heaving against his while your nails dug into his shoulders. "close— i'm close.. please, please let me cum.." you moaned, feeling your muscles tighten as his cock continued hitting that sweet spot inside you while his tail rubbed sharp circles onto your clit.

"Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Fuck..." he cursed under his breath, harshly thrusting up into your tight cunt as he felt your walls clench around him. your walls spasm around his cock, your moans becoming more frequent as the tight knot in your belly came undone, 'thank you's spilling from your lips as his tail helps guide your high. his cock twitched inside of your walls before shooting his cum inside your cunt, his hot cum spilling out of your abused hole.

his tail uncurled around your waist, using his hands to help you off his cock instead. his gaze drifts down to your hole, sticky and slick with both of your releases. if it was up to him, no jewel could compare to the eye candy you gave him, though as much as he loved the sight of his cum seeping out of your hole, he couldn't let it go to waste now could he?

a sharp gasp escaped your lips when you felt something snake up your thigh before plunging back into your cunt, something much longer and sharp than his cock. "There we go.. See? It does fit." he snickered into your ear, using his tail to plug his cum inside of your tight hole.

[kurooh]

❆ BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE !

KINKMAS 2024 — holiday hatefucking + sukuna ryōmen

❆ desc. a record breaking blizzard blasts through your city, causing thousands of power outages & frozen pipes. what’re you & your sworn enemy of a roommate to do when it seems to last all night?

❆ warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, hatefucking, some degradation, pussy slaps, orgasm control, arguing, resolving misunderstandings, facesitting, one bed trope. | 6.0k words

“just like everything else, this is all your fault!”

“really, princess? last i checked, i can’t control fucking climate change.”

sukuna’s always been testing your patience, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with daily arguments and snarky comments. you let out a peeved sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. “of course you’d refer to weather as climate change. if i were you, i’d at least mask my stupidity better.”

“tch,” he manages, wordlessly rolling his eyes as he lamely tries to think of a comeback. anger boils in his stomach and burns through his veins, hot as magma. “you’re calling me stupid when you’re the one who fell into the toilet a few days ago, at three in the morning.”

“yes, and that happened because my inconsiderate asshole of a roommate didn’t put the lid down!”

“you deserved it,” sukuna scoffs, dismissing you with a wave of his hand as he turns on his heel. “go take your toilet ass to bed. g’night.”

you’re fuming with anger, but there’s no point in saying anything now that he’s walking away with no intention to listen to you. sukuna’s footsteps disappear into the darkness of his room, and he slams the door behind him.

how insufferable.

living with sukuna ryōmen meant you could never catch a break. between his occasional apartment-trashing parties and stormy demeanor, there was zero chance to turn things around. the feuds had started not long after you first met, and surprisingly, the two of you had actually hit it off pretty well.

your first meeting took place on a street corner downtown, right in the middle of the college district. after a horrible date, you had found yourself waiting on the corner for your delayed uber when sukuna pulled up on his motorcycle, extending his hand. at the time, you didn’t question his kindness, wrapping your arms around him and talking his ear off about being a student. he dropped you off at your apartment and offered to help you sign a new lease, after you had confessed how hard it was living in a dorm with so many fees.

initially, living with sukuna went well. the sexual tension was at an all-time high, but the two of you were always too busy (or afraid?) to make a move on it, so you remained friends. it was when his friends came over for a party during an important study night for you that things changed for the worse. they had been lounging on the couch, drunk and talking way too loudly about you.

remembering the things they said about you still makes you grind your teeth as you stomp down the hallway, pausing at the darkened screen of the thermostat.

“sukuna!” you yell, reading the numbers. “the temperature’s dropping further!”

“. . it’s a power outage,” he calls back after a moment, his voice muffled by the door. “what do you expect?”

it’s pointless but it makes you feel better, so you raise your middle finger to his door before walking off to your room. your door swings open, and you slide off your slippers, preparing to get into bed and wait it out, but you’re met with the not so soft material of the bare mattress.

oh, that’s right.

not long ago, the tv had been glowing with endless reports of the incoming blizzard. it was supposed to hit the city full force in a few hours. expecting a power outage, you’d thrown all of your sheets and blankets into the wash so you’d sleep well during the night in a warm, clean bed. it was as if the blizzard had a personal score to settle—it barreled through the city and prepared to stay, leaving hundreds of people without power or functioning pipes due to the freeze.

now that your apartment has no electricity at all, your sheets and blankets are left soaking in the washing machine downstairs. instead of breaking down and screaming out of frustration, you manage to pull it together with a few deep breaths before marching over to sukuna’s room. it’s entirely sickening that you even have to ask him for something like this, but you put the thought out of your mind and raise your closed fist to the door.

sukuna’s ears twitch when he hears the thumping at his door, and he gets out of his bed to go investigate. he rubs the tiredness away from his eyes and opens the door to see you standing in front of him.

“what now? did you come to tell me it’s snowing outside?”

“no, i didn’t,” you grit out, wringing your hands together, “remember i put my all my bedding in to be washed?”

“remember when i told you not to?”

“yes, thank you!” you reply brightly, “they’re currently soaking in the washing machine and i have nowhere to sleep without getting a bad case of hypothermia.”

“hm. you could always try the couch and some paper towels from the kitchen,” he suggests dryly, pulling the door shut. stubbornly, you push your foot in the way to stop him. “woman,” he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “if you think i won’t slam this door on your foot, you are sorely mistaken.”

it’s a risk you’ll have to take; you don’t budge an inch, looking up at him furiously. “just for tonight, i’m asking you to let me sleep in your bed.”

“i thought you hated me,” he hisses, “i could feel your little middle finger through the door.”

“i do, but if you had this problem, i’d actually help you, because i’m a good person!”

“keep telling yourself that,” sukuna rolls his eyes dramatically, letting his jaw go slack to mock your stupidity, “i would never have this kind of problem, because i’m not as dumb as you are.”

the wooden edge of the door starts to press into your slipper and a rush of panic strikes you square in the chest. your jaw tightens as hesitate, frustrated with the idea you have to convince him with. finally, your lips part, and the words tumble out sloppily, piling up into a debt you’ll be obligated to pay. “fine, fine . . . sometime i can make it up to you. i’ll even clean up the apartment after a party without any lip.”

sukuna crosses his arms, and the veins ripple beneath the skin with the movement. “oh, i hadn’t thought of that. i would love to see you clean the place without complaining as you usually do. although . . you did say anything.”

“yes, that’s right.”

where is he going with this?

his crimson eyes gleam with some kind of wolfish delight as he mulls over everything he could possibly impose on you. “perhaps i’ll save it and torment you while i think of something.”

“so, can i share the bed?” you urge, slipper tapping on the carpet impatiently.

sukuna offers a hand, and you can feel his black nails dig into your skin when you accept it. he moves out of the doorway at last, sticking out his foot and successfully making you stumble. you nearly faceplant into the carpet but manage to save yourself, biting your tongue even though all you want to do is shout at him.

sukuna simply gets into bed and tugs the blankets over his body, but he looks over at you in confusion when he notices you stacking a wall of pillows between your bodies.

“god, i am not that vile. i showered earlier and i washed my sheets yesterday,” he grouses, eyebrows pulling downwards in annoyance.

“i’m sure you did,” you assuage him dismissively, “i just wanna make sure we don’t touch once in the time that we sleep in this bed.”

sukuna fiddles with his silver lip piercings, tongue prodding into the backings impatiently while his fingers twist at the small spikes. “damn. are you done yet? goodnight.”

“goodnight.” you mutter, dropping down hard against the bed with your back facing his.

sukuna is what every daredevil wishes they could be. he is unique, with different piercings and dark, sharply lined tattoos that compliment his features naturally. all of his piercings had been acquired from bets or dares—he’d gotten his eyebrow done after his brother yuji beat him in a fight (he let him win because he wanted the piercing), his snake bites because he’d been dared (he did it himself with a hot needle and bent paperclips to keep the holes open since it was 1 am and all the jewelry stores were closed), and his ears when he won an eating contest (it was on yuji’s dime, so he got the most expensive jewelry too).

as you drift off, feeling warmer beneath all the blankets, you feel the tension leaving your body. for tonight, you’ll let go of your anger towards him and enjoy the pleasant moment and his rare generosity.

your eyes blearily open to the soft rays of morning sunlight shining through the gaps between the curtains, illuminating the dust in their thin columns over the bed. you let out a yawn, snuggling further into the soft pillows you’d set up the night before—but then your heart jumps into your throat and heat sears its away across your face when you register the warm body nestled against yours.

the position is so natural that it’s as if you slept like this for hours; it’s abhorrent, seeing sukuna sleeping like a baby, his breaths nothing more than quiet huffs into your neck. as the vestiges of sleep start to fade away, you’re all too aware of the sculpted muscle pressing firmly against your body. at some point, sukuna decided to take off his shirt, as evidenced by his bare chest against you.

outside, the sky looks to be a little cloudy, and the branches of bare trees are weighed down with layers of snow. looks like the blizzard came to a stop sometime in the middle of the night.

sukuna’s hand squeezes your side lightly, and he lets out a soft groan, tugging you closer. “ew, what the hell!?” you jerk back immediately, heart pounding wildly in your chest like a caged bird. an uncomfortable heat settles over you as the reality of the situation fully sinks in. he’s still asleep, fumbling around to grip onto you. your breath catches in your throat with each of his confused movements, and the warmth of his strong body leaves you dazed for a moment before you consider how wrong this feels. he firmly grabs ahold of your ass to pull you in, and you gasp, slapping his arm as hard as you can.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

he grunts out a curse, letting go of you and blinking awake slowly. his once relaxed face quickly shifts into one of annoyance, and he fixes you with a displeased glare.

“what’s your problem now, woman?”

“you were cuddling me, man.”

sukuna rolls his eyes so hard you wonder if they’ll ever return to their original place.

“to wake me up over something that trivial is ridiculous. it was a cold night and likely happened by accident.”

“no, sukuna!” you protest, hips swiveling as you push yourself into a sitting position. he hisses, jaw clenching firmly; the words die in your throat when you realize the problem—rather, his problem.

“wipe that fucking look off your face,” he snaps automatically. “ever heard of morning wood?”

“excuse me? you were all over—”

immediately, sukuna claps a hand over your mouth, his palm feeling hot against the lower half of your face. your words are muffled, but he knows you’re swearing and protesting at him—the way your eyebrows angrily move tells him enough.

eventually, you go still, opting to lick his skin. he recoils in disgust, wiping his sticky palm on your shirt to get it off. “you’re nasty, woman.”

“that’s not what you were thinking when you were wrapped around me like a koala five minutes ago.”

he doesn’t even know what to say. anger and something more bubbles up fast, scorching through his body before it finally exits through his mouth. “shut the fuck up. you started it last night, pulling me in and shit.”

“me?” you burst out incredulously, eyebrows furrowing as you lean forward, your stare burning holes the size of bullets into his face. “you’re the one who’s embarrassed for having enjoyed it, if your face is any indicator. you know how much i hate you, i’d never—”

you’re too close. beneath the blankets and sheets, your lower body thrashes while you speak, hips knocking into his a few times. each touch has his cock growing harder, throbbing painfully beneath his boxers and pajama pants.

“god, if you’d just stop touching me!” he barks, cheeks ultra hot now. sukuna’s lips pull into a scowl and he glares at you, annoyed with your sudden cluelessness.

“what is your problem now?!”

“it’s you,” he shouts, throwing off the blanket and startling you. “it’s always been you. since we moved in, since the blizzard, since i even agreed to sharing a bed with you! you’re always—” sukuna’s voice splinters and he swallows, pushing forward, leaving mere inches between your faces. “fuck. you’re always driving me insane.”

“back off,” you hiss, voice trembling. a crackling tension hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken words and growing anticipation.

“make me.”

“you’re really asking for it, aren’t you, sukuna?”

his lips curl into a wolfish smile and his eyes gleam with a similar intensity, anger blending with something more carnal. “maybe you can show me how much you love to hate me, princess.”

the demeaning nickname falls from his lips easily, as it always does, and you’re determined to make him choke on it.

“don’t you ever shut up?” your nose crinkles at the puffs of breath that brush over your lips. one of sukuna’s eyebrows quirks upward challengingly—your voice no longer has the bite it usually does.

“i only would if you let me use my mouth another way.”

your heart hammers in your chest, and anger still rushes through every inch of your body, but it’s much hotter now, leaving your skin sweltering beneath your clothes. giving in to sukuna ryōmen is a mistake—he’s your insufferable roommate who regularly makes your fists clench with anger, but he’s also the object of your deepest desires.

you’re too far in to back away now.

“go ahead,” you pause to let out a breath. “right now, i’m all yours.”

when you finally lean in to close the distance, your lips collide in a kiss that’s equal parts animosity and desire. it isn’t gentle, and it isn’t soft—it’s raw and furious, so overwhelming he loses himself and pulls you in, black nails digging crescents into your skin. in a manner that’s just as forceful, your hand finds its way to the nape of his neck and yanks him in, causing your teeth to click together sharply. the hungry kiss deepens, and his tongue slips into your mouth, stroking against your own. the deep-seated anger and tension that had been piling on top of each other is finally dissolving into something far worse—something so intoxicating you begin to wonder how you were living without it.

sukuna pulls back breathlessly, unable to look anywhere but your face. a small, glossy string of saliva connects your lips together, a sign of an encouragement to test the waters and continue. surely a heated makeout session would lead you to a crossroads, where you’d be left wondering how much further this could go, with only each other to figure it out.

sukuna coughs out a rueful laugh. “it’s funny, isn’t it?"

“what is it?” you demand, lips tingly from the kiss.

“i find it amusing this took so long to happen. of course, it was bound to eventually.”

“well, it’s only because you can’t keep it in your pants, sukuna.”

“and you can’t keep yours on,” he retorts, hooking his fingers into the flimsy waistband of your pajama pants before sliding them off your legs. now, only a thin layer of fabric hides the place he wants to see most. effectively silenced and now matching his black underwear, you take him in, eyes sweeping over his features. beneath his black tattoos, his skin flushes red, all the way up to the tips of his ears; his mouth is slick and shiny with a mixture of your spit and his own, and the silver spikes beneath his lip gleam temptingly.

“what’s wrong?” he questions expectantly, fingers curling around your chin with surprising force and tugging you forward. “cat got your tongue?”

“maybe i’m just waiting for the right moment to pounce,” you push forward stubbornly, forcing him onto his back so you can straddle him. you silence anything he would’ve said with another kiss, and sukuna’s hands travel from your hips to your ass. he gifts it with a squeeze and a pleasured groan slips out against your lips before he slides his fingers into your underwear.

the rough pads of his fingertips stroke over the skin of your ass while you suck on his tongue impatiently, hips occasionally rolling against his own. to add to each movement of your hips, you tease him a little more, using your teeth to lightly tug at the jewelry of his lip piercings. each moment of friction is something between solace and torture for his cock—it’s adequate, but it’s not enough and he’s dying for more.

you smile against his lips, sneaking a hand between your bodies to play with his cock. it’s an experimental gesture to test the waters, see how he reacts; the moment your fingers come into contact with his thick bulge, he groans, leaning up. one squeeze has him rushing to sit up so quickly his forehead knocks into yours. ordinarily, sukuna would’ve made a scathing comment, but he doesn’t have much to say when he grabs ahold of your wrist and pushes it into his boxers.

it’s a decision that further stokes the long burning fire that’s been ablaze beneath all the arguments and unbearable conversations; it’s something that has it roaring into an all consuming inferno.

“fuck,” sukuna chokes out, nipples hard against your loose shirt while he rests his hands on your ass. “you’re making me fucking crazy.”

you ignore him, rolling your eyes dismissively at his heavy panting and clenching abs. instead, you focus on lavishing his neck with attention in the form of wet kisses along the skin. he shudders a little as your tongue darts out to wet his skin before he eventually decides he’s had enough and cages you in his arms. you’re startled when you’re caught in something akin to an alligator death roll, opening your eyes to see that you’re pinned down beneath him.

“then do something about it,” you suggest, legs spreading without him having to ask.

sukuna groans deeply, his head spinning at the sight of you being this vulnerable in front of him. “take off that shirt now.”

the demand strikes you hard, his voice reverberating to your core. while you busy yourself with doing as he asked, sukuna kicks the pillows and blankets off the bed before positioning himself on his stomach. now, he’s eye level with your thinly covered pussy. he hasn’t seen it yet, but it’s sure to be everything he’s dreamed of. saliva pools on his tongue while impatience propels him forward, and he skates his fingers along your thighs, taking in the softness of your skin.

it’s not enough to simply touch you.

no, sukuna needs to smell you, taste you, feel you, devour you.

he intends to do so.

“what’re you—?” your voice trembles as you look downwards, nipples hardening at the sensual sight. sukuna’s nose is pressed to your thigh, and he’s breathing in with every inch upwards. you had expected something faster, more filthy, but sukuna’s behaving like he’s absolutely been dying for this.

the dull spikes of his lip piercings press into your plush skin and over a small area of your panties when he finally makes it to your hip. wordlessly, he slips his hands under your ass and raises you up while he takes a bit of your panties between his teeth. slowly, they slide down your legs.

a sweltering heat surges up your neck and to your face while another pools in your tummy like magma beneath a volcano. you writhe on the bed eagerly, too excited to have your panties finally out of the way. those fervent crimson eyes stare at your pussy and watch it flutter around nothing before flickering up to yours.

“don’t blame me if you can’t walk later.”

your face drops in annoyance. “why do you always have to ruin good moments?”

“a warning is hardly enough to ruin this.”

“but—”

a harsh, smarting slap to your pussy has you cutting yourself off with a pitched cry of delight that bounces off the walls and into sukuna’s long term memory. he raises an eyebrow, watching you closely as your legs settle and you return to your spread position.

“you liked it, didn’t you?”

“liked? it hurt.”

“i wouldn’t put it past you,” he says, eyeing your dripping, clenching cunt. “i’ll just do it again.”

you roll your eyes, bucking toward him impatiently. you want him inside you, and he’s hung up on moving slow to torture you.

“whatever. just fuck me alr—”

“ah ah,” he admonishes you with a slap that’s much rougher and directed to your clit. against the mattress, his cock swells with arousal. “i intend to fuck you my way. if you have a problem with that, i’d love to see you fight to be on top.”

tears gather in your eyes, threatening to spill over and cascade down your cheeks. desperation and unbridled need easily shifts to frustration and anger that has you spitting, “i hate you.”

“don’t be like that. you’re soaking wet,” he points out with a self assured smirk. sukuna spreads your thighs impossibly wider and leans in, letting the tip of his nose graze your clit. the featherlight touch makes your skin prickle all over.

to be honest, you didn’t expect the events of last night to lead you here in the morning. in fact, you assumed you’d wake up on your respective sides of the bed and argue a little about snoring before departing. since most of your interactions usually go that route, this entire situation is shocking—but a small part of you is extremely thankful it’s finally happening.

there had been days so tense you’d considered sex as a solution, but never brought it up.

“s-sukuna!” you moan helplessly, grabbing at the sheets and twisting them beneath your fingers. with his teeth, he playfully nibbles at your folds, savoring the sudden catch of breath in your throat and whimpery cries. your quivering legs settle over his shoulders, and he appreciates the change, utilizing the new angle to pull you closer.

that sharp tongue of his can certainly do more than hurl creative insults all day long—it’s killer, and entirely hypnotic as he sloppily mouths at your cunt. wet slurps and lewd smacks of his lips have you shuddering, eyes rolling back into your skull.

“‘kuna,” you whine, long and drawn out, “don’t stop, d-don’t fuckin’ stop.”

he pushes his thumb into your clit and looks up, lips shiny with your bittersweet slick. “what did you just call me?”

“sukuna,” you lie nervously, trembling beneath his touch and craving more.

“now, girl,” he scoffs, and the new nickname doesn’t sound as demeaning as the usuals. “that isn’t what you said. go ahead and say it again for me.”

you look him in the eyes, feeling small beneath his heavy gaze. “‘kuna. that’s what i said.”

sukuna offers a gratified hum before returning to your sloppy pussy. a glob of spit sparkles in the morning light as it slips down your hole, making more of a mess. “keep calling me that, i like it.”

white hot euphoria zips through sukuna’s nerves as he dines on the wet dessert your pussy is. it’s the best breakfast he could’ve ever had—sweet as sugar and made even better with your decadent moans spurring him on. oh, the way you shakily card your hands through his hair and let your nails scratch over his scalp . . each electrifying touch shoots straight to his cock, and he discreetly ruts into the matress.

his tongue dips between your folds and he groans against you, eyes rolling back when you squeeze down on him like a vice. the once cold room is hot, your bodies feeling feverish from your own shared heat—if you were outside, you’d have melted the snow into puddles.

sukuna has always had an abnormally long tongue. he ponders your reaction to him pushing deeper, but the fluttering of your walls leaves no room for second thoughts.

“sukuna, holy fuck,” you sob, a tear or two running down the bridge of your nose. “y-your tongue, it’s so big—w-wait, wait a second.”

it’s painful to lose the fullness of his tongue, but you pull back and cup his face in your hands, looking down at him with a desperate look he won’t be able to refuse. “can . . can i ride your face, ‘kuna?”

you’re so cute with that little pout and those glossy eyes begging for more. sukuna smiles meanly, the lower half of his face dripping with your essence while his teeth gleam sharply.

“you liked my tongue that much, huh?” you nod, looking a little dazed as he gets onto his back. he helps you swing a leg over him, but before you sit down, his hand lands hard against your ass. “shit, you’re such a dirty girl. jus’ begging for me to get you off, aren’t cha? show me how much you fucking want it.”

you whimper, gasping out some kind of affirmative answer. sukuna tenses his tongue and sticks it upwards, then tugs you down impatiently.

“shit!” you squeal, startled by how fucking long his tongue is. it fills you up almost entirely, probably an inch and a half short of your cervix. whiny ooh’s and ah’s fall from your lips as you unsteadily rut your hips into his face, grinding your clit hard into his nose. “sukuna, ‘m close, you’re gonna make me cum . . ”

“you’re gonna make yourself cum, girl. ‘s all you.”

his voice is muffled, but you can somewhat hear him over the lewd squelches and noisy moans that fill the room. despite it all, he’s got stars in his eyes as he watches you ride his tongue to oblivion—stringy drool slips past your lips and your tits bounce deliciously while your face crumbles in euphoria.

“oh my god,” you weep, voice breaking, “‘m gonna cum on your fuckin’ tongue—”

one blissful tremor is the precursor to so many more. your jaw becomes slack and tears run down your face as you finally reach your high.

“‘kuna, ‘m cumming!”

the stifling tightness in your tummy finally snaps and leaves you a convulsing mess on his tongue, shaking so hard your teeth inevitably begin to chatter. sukuna smacks his lips, almost entirely satisfied—but then he roughly lifts you and sits you down on his chest.

you’ve got hearts in your eyes and you’re obviously drunk on him, ready for more.

“clean it up,” he demands, tilting his head to the side. without question, you lean forward and kiss him, tasting yourself with a moan. a groan rumbles deep in his chest when you pull back and start to sloppily lick at his cheek, tongue running over his tattoos. “good girl.”

“sukuna, i need—i want . . ” you flounder breathlessly, unsure of how to ask him.

he slaps your ass, scarlet eyes darkening lustfully. sukuna clicks his tongue, egging you on. “beg for it.”

“beg?” you ask incredulously, grinding your cunt into his abs. “i hate begging.”

“then you don’t get what you want, simple as that.”

“but—”

“no buts, girl.”

“f-fine,” you cede, afraid of being left unsatisfied, “please, i need your cock inside me . . i need you to fuck me hard.”

“there she is,” sukuna coos, flipping you over and reversing your positions so he’s above you, “my nasty slut. you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

you nod weakly, which has him flipping you onto your stomach and huskily growling into your ear. “fucking say it, princess.”

“all yours,” you slur your words, limply letting him maneuver your body.

“on your knees,” he pauses to gather your wrists together behind your back, pulling you toward him. “that’s right.”

with his free hand, sukuna tugs his boxers down so quickly the fabric audibly tears, and he tosses them over his shoulder.

the room is a disaster. blankets and sheets hang off the foot of his bed while pillows litter the carpeted floor in every direction. not to mention the discarded pajamas and underwear scattered around as well, evidence of the storm between yourself and your roommate.

your cunt is throbbing by the time he guides the tip of his spit slicked cock between your folds. it’s bulbous and fucking huge as it presses into you, slow and deep. sukuna tosses his head back with a loud groan when his cock bottoms out, pulsing against your cervix.

“loosen up, girl,” he grunts, your sticky walls bearing down hard around his cock, “can’t fucking move.”

“w-wait,” you whimper, nearly falling forward. your jaw hangs open loosely as you try to fathom the stretch and fullness his cock imposes. “‘kuna, you’re too big, i can’t—”

“please, this sloppy pussy was made for me,” he huffs, drawing his hips back and leaving merely the tip of his cock inside of you. “jus’ take it. you can and you will.”

he says nothing else before shoving forward, plunging his cock as deep as it can go inside you. it thickly pushes past rings of muscle and stretches you open, filling your ears with wet squelches. he sets a ruthless rhythm into place, focusing on taking your ability to walk tomorrow. tears pathetically pour down your cheeks and fall from your jaw to the damp sheets below, and you no longer can control all the noise you’re making. babbled cries of yes! and inaudible moans fall from your bitten lips, all of it spurring sukuna on.

“hah, shit,” he rasps, unable to tear his eyes away from where you’re connected—his cock slides in and out of your creamy pussy rapidly, the smacks of skin against skin sounding like an applause. “b-been waiting for this, goddamn.”

“i thought you hated me,” you wail desperately, feeling each thrust of his cock in your lungs. whenever the tip roughly kisses your cervix, your cunt squeezes around him while you cry out something incomprehensible.

sukuna pushes his tongue into his cheek, digging his black nails into your wrists tightly. “you were the one who hated me the whole time.”

“i-i didn’t!” you protest weakly, struggling to recall what you were just about to say. “it was you who started it—with your friends!”

“what’d we do?” he groans, pushing his free hand through his hair to remove the strands sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“uh, you—right there!—you were . . ”

“did i already fuck you dumb, girl?” sukuna snarks, his palm coming down hard across your ass. “can’t even remember, hm? perhaps if you weren’t so busy slutting yourself out for me you’d have something to fuckin’ say.”

his words are bitter, but they manage to help you recall your memory. “you were talking shit about me, a-and you threw that party the night before a big test i had—shit, ‘m gonna cum!”

“ah ah,” he snaps, voice edged with something domineering and dangerous. you’re pulled back by your numb wrists, and sukuna leans forward to speak directly into your ear: “you don’t get to cum until i fuckin’ tell you to. now, girl—finish that story for me.”

a miserable sob tears past your lips, “sukuna, i-i can’t, ‘m gonna cum right now—”

your wrists are released, making you fall forward into the mattress. your head can’t stop spinning and you’re in no state to catch yourself, so instead you accept the new position mutely.

the palm of sukuna’s hand presses into the crown of your head and his nails dig into your scalp while his warm breath fans against the shell of your ear. “don’t you fucking dare,” he hisses arbitrarily. “i said to finish the story.”

“i-i heard them saying horrible things about me!” you babble gaspingly, “i think you went along with it . . i didn’t hear you telling them to stop.”

“so that’s why you hated me?”

“yes! god, but i didn’t really—i wanted to talk about it s-sometime, but not right now!”

he chuckles ruefully, letting your head go. “now, girl. if i’d known something so stupid was the reason you’ve supposedly hated me, i would’ve taken care of it much sooner.”

you cry into the sheets, feeling the telltale throb of his thick cock deep inside you. “please—please lemme cum!” the words slur together, making you sound truly cock drunk.

“alright, princess,” sukuna hisses, teeth sinking into his lower lip, “go ‘head and let it allll out. cum all over this fucking cock, lemme feel it.”

stars flicker across your vision, and you cum with a broken cry that tears from your throat almost painfully. your gummy walls grip him like a vice, sucking the cum out of his cock. with a drawn out groan, he finally cums, collapsing on top of you and panting into your shoulder.

as you come down together, high pitched beeps fill the house. the microwave and oven come back to life, and the lights in every room snap on as the power is restored at last.

“goddamn,” he huffs, pulling you into a sideways spooning position without letting his cock slip out of you.

“tired?” you ask hoarsely, tired eyes running over his sweaty, flushed face. “clearly, that took a lot out of you.”

“me?” sukuna barks in offense. “look at you, you’re the one covered in tears.”

you pull out of his arms, whimpering breathily as his cock slides out of your pulsing cunt. the base of it is covered in creamy rings while the rest of his length shines wetly. sukuna spreads your trembling thighs and groans loudly at the sight—frothy globs of cum spill from your weeping hole, which clenches around nothing hungrily.

truthfully, sukuna would never be able to rid himself of the memory of your cunt swallowing his cock eagerly. the slip and slide paired with the immense heat had nearly made him cum on the spot . .

sukuna’s chest heaves with each breath as he lolls his head to the side to observe you. “for the record, i’m no longer friends with those vile people. cut it off right after they came into my home and started talking shit about you.”

embarrassment crashes over you like a wave. “wait, you never told me about that!”

“you stopped talking to me and decided to be argumentative all the goddamn time.”

you roll your eyes, looking off the bed awkwardly. a few pillows are scattered on your side, and you reach over to pick them up, tossing them to the foot of the bed.

“anyway, how did my pillow wall get destroyed?”

“don’t get upset.”

“what did you do?” you question him accusingly, narrowing your eyes at him.

“after you fell asleep, i moved two of them.”

“i used six different pillows!”

he dismisses you with a wave of his hand, smirking at the frustrated shock that takes over your features. “i thought it’d help me figure out what your problem was in the morning. obviously, it did.”

you snatch a pillow and hit him right in the face with it, savoring the moment of justice like high quality chocolate. “there. that’s what you get.”

sukuna rips the pillow from your hands and hurls it across the room, turning over to you with a wicked smile playing on his lips.

“you were saying?”

[retiredteabag]

learning together

• parental Gojo looks after an ill-attached Megumi with abandonment issues

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Megumi is a secretive boy. It seemed to Satoru that he hid everything. If Satoru wanted to know anything he would have to go through Tsumiki, the boys sister, to learn even the smallest of details. And even then, she rarely had anything but a smile to share.

For example, Satoru had been looking after the two little kids for months before he learned that the two of them only had one worn pair of shoes each, that and only a few articles of clothes.

"Well, why didn't you say anything?" He had scolded after seeing the blisters on Tsumiki's feet one night while watching Blues Clues.

He had realized that he would have to become all the more observant to see if there was a need in this household because he knew hell would have to freeze over for those two little kids to admit they could use help. Especially the young boy, Megumi.

It took three incidents before Satoru needed to have an intervention with the boy.

And oddly enough, they always occurred when it was just the two of them, alone.

Megumi always insisted on walking home from school. His sister was all too happy to take part in after-school activities, but the little introvert he was, he just wanted alone time.

This day had been no different from the others, he had been walking home, considering what he would have for dinner, when he saw it.

He would never admit, too ashamed of being called a liar, but the boy often saw things, strange, dark things, things nobody else saw out of the corner of his eye.

And there, right before him was something, watching him in the bushes, it was one of them, he knew it had to be.

Tsumiki always told him to be careful walking home. The woods of this area housed many of the homeless, and it tended to be no place for a child.

But here he was. Frozen still, the shadowy monster seemed to come his way, unspeaking, but threatening non the less.

Megumi threw his backpack to the front of his body, maintaining eye contact while frantically searching for something to defend himself.

There was nothing the boy hated more than being helpless.

His heart pounded in his ears, his fingertips burned with something he didn't recognize. But stronger than anything else, he was afraid. He wanted his dad. He wanted to hide.

He pulled out a pair of scissors, the same he used in art class, his arms trembled. He couldn't bring himself to make the first move so he was forced to wait until the curse came at him. He wanted to cry.

It did not take long.

He didn't even feel the ache in his bloody knees until the burning in his throat superseded all else.

He had rushed back to that apartment the white-haired man had arranged for them without a break in his step. And when the realization occurred to him of what had just happened, be felt the tearful nausea again.

There was no blood on his hands, but they shook with the fury it took to bring that monster to its knees. He had fallen to the ground with the beast, but the plunge of his scissors had gotten rid of it. Even if he was safe, however, he would never believe it.

It took a while to find the key he kept in his backpack. Fumbling fingers kept his keychain escaping his grasp. He was so encompassed by the afternoon's events that he did not even notice the tall man (boy) in the living area.

Satoru came by at least once a week, and recently even more than that. He tried to help the kids with their homework, stock their cabinets with snacks, and ensure their health. Megumi hadn't been expecting him that day.

"Oh! Megs! I've been waiting for you all day, you know, you're never home so late, don't tell me you've made a frien-" Satoru spun around so fast, the air around him seemed to make a noise with the motion. "What have you been doing?"

Put on the defense, Megumi shrunk back, "None of your business." Even after saying it, he worried he would get in trouble, worried he would be punished for talking back, despite Gojo's response to his snark always having been a chuckle, he knew adults hated disrespect.

The taller boy did not laugh now, "Oh, it's not? Megs you make me sad, what's going on? You seem tense."

The man was coming around through the common room and Megumi shuffled his bag to hide his bloodied knees. He didn't understand much of the man but he knew his eyes could also see things others could not.

"What's happened there?" Satoru pointed at the boys backpack.

"Nothing." Megumi murmured, trotting past Satoru and attempting to hide in his room. (His very own, though he often slept with his sister when he felt afraid)

"Ah, ah, ah, you shouldn't go fumbling around when you're hurt, Megumi. Come back here."

No, no, no, Megumi continued on, just about making it to his room when Satoru appeared before him. Megumi didn't know why he wanted to hide so badly, even so, he was frustrated to see the smile on the man's face. He was bent in a funny angle to look at the boy.

The boy would never understand how Gojo moved so quickly.

"Oh my, that looks bad." He made a bleh face, "How did you make it home on those knees, Megs? Hmm... I should give you a pager, shouldn't I, I don't want you running into trouble again without me. That must have been scary. Ugh, no fun at all.” All in one motion, Satoru grabbed Megumi and swung him around his hip.

"Stop! No!-" The boy flushed in embarrassment, but unbeknownst to him, Satoru could see the cursed energy encircling the boy.

And even if he didn’t say anything, he knew that something would have to change so this wouldn’t happen again.

After that day, Megumi did not walk home alone.

---

Satoru had been busy as of late, what felt like mission after mission, he was embarrassed to say, with how busy he was, he sometimes forgot he had two kids in his care.

He felt guilty, but the kids never asked for anything anyway. If they wanted something, he would get it for them. No questions asked.

It had been late one night, coming back after a mission that he saw his calendar and noticed with a grunt what week it was.

The middle schoolers were at camp according to his scribbles. Tsumiki was at camp and Megumi was all alone.

Why had he written this down? Could it be because he had insisted that Tsumiki go, promising to look after her little brother?

Satoru sighs. Did Megumi need anything? He was just a boy... but self-reliant as a man. He had been sure the little guy would be fine, even so, he couldn't deny the tug on his conscience.

Satoru almost went to bed that night before he decided he needed to check on the boy. God knows he wouldn't call - even if it was an emergency.

The sight he saw when he opened the door would stick with him for years. Mainly because he found it amusing.

Little Megumi, face flushed, wobbling on his feet, a blanket around his shoulders, and a kitchen knife in his hand.

"What are you doing!" Satoru yelled from the front door.

"Wha-" cough "-at are YOU doing!" cough "You're not here tonight!"

"Yes, I am! Put the knife down, it's just me, Megs." Satoru folded at his hips and leaned in close to the boy. It was strange, Megumi never let him get so close. "What's going on, were you scared because your sister wasn't here?"

Satoru reached out and pulled the knife out of the boys grasp. His little hands were hot, and when Megumi sniffled, he sounded congested.

"'M not scared..." It takes a staggering moment for the boys' hands to drop. Noticing he had nothing to hold.

"You sick?" And for the first time, the boy doesn't flinch when Satoru reaches a hand to his forehead.

He is, however, quickly swatted away. "No. Why are you-" cough "-here."

Satoru felt bad now, Tsumiki had probably left three days ago, how long had Megumi been sick? And why did the stubborn kid never just ask for help?

Prefacing his care he began, "I'm here because I want to be." Satoru finally lets out. Once again, he scoops the boy up, blanket and all, and is careful to set the knife back in the kitchen before using his now free hand to swaddle the boy. "Have you been sleeping on the couch?"

"Mhmm."

"Alright. No more of that. I'll be here so you just go to sleep."

Megumi didn't have anything to say. He missed his sister. He wanted to sleep in her bed. He wanted to feel safe. He wanted to feel better.

"I have a doctor friend, okay? You'll feel spick and span in no time." Satoru ruffled the boys hair.

"No, I don't wanna see them..."

Satoru furrowed his brows, "Ya know kid, you're not very convincing, I can tell you're definitely running a fever. All sweaty… like a big ball of sweat..."

"Jus' go away." Megumi said as he nuzzled his face deeper into Satorus's shirt, "I don't wanna see them."

"Sorry Megs, I'm perfect in may ways, but healing is not one of my many talents. She's really good, you'll feel better."

"I don't need help. I don't want you-"

"Alright, Megs. Go to bed." Satoru manhandles the boy like a doll, tucking him in so aggressively tight, he would have to put in real work to come free.

The next morning, Megumi had never felt so indebted to someone, and it made him sick, despite having just been healed

---

It was only a year later that Megumi called on his cursed technique.

Deep down, he had always known there was something different about him, something pulling at the surface of his being, but now, looking into the dog manifestation before him, he could finally feel purpose.

"Nice job Megs, that little dog is one of your Shikigami." Satoru grinned down at the boy sitting on the carpet of the family room.

The puppy rolled around on the floor before Megumi, and the boy's heart raced.

"She's mine?" He reached out and the puppy, sure it was a dream, she toppled over herself to nose at his hand.

"Sure is!" Satoru smiled. "And there's many more to come. Haven't you listened to me at all, Megumi? You're gonna be super strong."

But the boy wasn't listening. Blood was whooshing in his ears, saliva was pooling in his mouth, his heart was beginning to thump, but before him was a little friend. He couldn't let her go.

"Alright. You'll probably start to feel light-headed so let go of that energy. You'll be able to call her back again soon.”

Megumi was feeling woozy, that’s for sure, but there was no way he would leave her.

The puppy flickered like a mirage. Blinking slightly, she sat up, wobbling toward Megumi.

He wanted to hold her in his arms but a rush of bile was forming in his throat. His head pounded.

The puppy licked at his hand.

uh oh...

"Stop that Megumi." Satoru placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let go. She's taking too much."

Megumi's throat clenched and he swallowed thickly. Holding onto his new friend tightly.

"Stop, Megumi! Enough!" Satoru grabbed the boy by the shoulder.

The puppy faded from the boy's grasp. Megumi lurched forward, barely catching himself, and puked all over the carpet.

Satoru's hand faltered, but just a moment thereafter, he began to pat the boy comfortingly. "It's okay." He spoke gently, "That’s alright."

The boy's shoulders shook, not with tears, but with the adrenaline rush that comes with the throwing up/fight-or-flight response. He was mumbling, a hand covered his mouth.

"'m sorry. Sorry." He trembled.

Satoru sighed, unsure of how to console the boy. “Hey, 's alright. She was siphoning off your energy too quickly. You'll learn to manage it." Satoru patted the boys back but he was stumbling to his feet now.

"Carpet...sorry about the carpet." He was saying.

Satoru jumped to stand, "What? No, I don't care! It's okay Megumi. You go sit down, I can clean up."

The boy looked angry. "No. I'm fine."

He always seemed to say that.

"Seriously, I don't care about the carpet, just go take a second to calm down, that was probably a lot."

"I don't want a second!” Megumi spun, elbow covering his mouth, uncalled-for anger in his eye. "I don't need help. Just go! I can do it on my own."

There was a surge of annoyance in Satoru before he realized the boy was probably just embarrassed.

Shoko had long since told him about attachment issues and the lack of trust to expect from the boy. He just wished he could get Megumi to let his guard down.

"Megumi." He called firmly. "Stop that. I'm not upset with you, and I don't want anything in return. What I do want is for you to take some deep breaths and drink some water. You're over-exerting yourself."

"Ergh!" Megumi grunted angrily, tears in his eyes, and fled from the room.

When Satoru found the boy again. He was hiding in the coat closet. His face in his hands.

Satoru had to remind himself that the boy was hardly six, and clearly had trouble regulating his emotions. He wanted to have a real discussion with the boy, but he couldn’t do that if he wasn’t comfortable.

Gojo leaned down, slid between the coats in the closet and closed the door.

“W-what are you doing.” Megumi scooted back on the narrow floor.

Satoru sighed, “I want you to talk to me, Megs, can you do that?”

In the dark, it was hard for Megumi to see, but his benefactor could make the boy out perfectly. “What…”

Satoru sighed, considered how to say it, “I know there’s a lot of pressure on you, and I know that doesn’t feel good. But don’t go forcing yourself, okay? Take things with stride, accept help, I don’t want anything from you, Megs, and you don’t owe me anything either.”

Megumi rolled his feet around, tapping his shoes together, “I know you don’t believe me yet, but I’m not gonna leave. Your stuck with me for a while, so let’s try to get along, alright?”

The closet was silent. Satoru felt stupid, his words too plain, his mind scattered.

“Gojo…” the boy stretched his ankles out. “It gets cold at night... I wanna change the therma-thermostat.”

It took all but a second for Satoru to grab hold of the metaphorical raft Megumi was giving him. “What? All this time?!! That’s unacceptable! That’s why you should tell me these things, this is your home Megumi, touch the thermostat all you want!” Satoru pouted, stood, and stretched.

He bent down once more after cracking the door open, the bright light shining into the little boy's eyes.

“Okay, what else should I know?” Satoru reached out to pull the boy to his feet,

And for the first time, Megumi took it.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

This is just a little drabble, I feel like this is some of my worst writing because sadly I have several more ideas about Satoru parenting Megumi

[won4kiss]

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────ENEMIES IN PUBLIC, LOVERS IN SECRET.

(🐰) ── 𝓟ARK SUNGHOON﹙성훈﹚ ꒰ 𝓰. oneshot ៸ fluff ៸ secret relationship ୨୧ㅤㅤ WARNiNGS : not proofread ៸ kissing ៸ petnames ៸ sunghoon’s very han seojun coded hehe !! :3 ៸ ❞ badboy! sunghoon x 𝑓! reader ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ꒰ WC : 1.0K ꒱ SYPNoSiS 𐙚 in the quiet of your schools’ hallways, sunghoon reminds you why he’s always worth dealing with the chaos .ᐟ ── LiBRARY

AS THE CLASS PRESIDENT, it was your duty to maintain peace and order in the classroom.

to make sure the “rule-breakers” faced the suitable consequences, the hardworking students were recognized, and the teachers never had to deal with unnecessary chaos.

it was exhausting work, but you took pride in it.

and then there was park sunghoon—your secret boyfriend, and your carefully hidden exception.

to everyone else, he was the bad boy delinquent who barely showed up to class, skipped homework assignments, and got into arguments with authority figures.

the exact epitome of everything you were supposed to oppose.

but to you, when you two were alone, he was the complete opposite—someone entirely different—a boy with a soft laugh, a charming smile just for you, and a certain way of looking at you that made your heart race every single time. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

you and sunghoon had agreed to keep your relationship a secret. it was better that way. after all, what would people say if they found out the class president and the class delinquent were dating?

it would be a messy scandal. so, you and sunghoon perfected the art of pretending.

during the day, you were enemies, constantly bickering and exchanging snarky words.

but when the halls were empty, you were his.

today started out like any other typical day at your school—sunghoon hadn’t bothered showing up to homeroom, as usual, and you were busy running around, making sure everyone was prepared for the upcoming student council meeting.

it was tiring work, but at least it kept your mind off your boyfriend who didn’t reply to your texts since last night.

that is, until he strolled into class halfway through the period, late as always. his uniform was untucked, his tie loose around his neck, and he had that infuriating grin painted across his face.

the teacher barely looked up from her lecture, clearly used to his antics by now.

you shot him a glare as he slid into his seat near the back, but he only winked at you, his smile widening.

your heart skipped a beat, but you forced yourself to look away. he was so frustrating. how could he make you swoon and seethe all at once?

it wasn’t long before his troublemaking streak caught up with him—when the teacher called on him for an answer, he responded with a crude comment that had the class stifling their laughter.

the teacher, however, was not amused.

“out in the hallway at once, park sunghoon!” she snapped, pointing to the door with furrowed brows—at this point, sunghoon was probably the cause of those wrinkles on her forehead.

with an exaggerated sigh, sunghoon stood and made his way out of the room, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

he barely looked fazed as he took up his punishment—standing outside with his hands on his head, posing with nonchalance.

you tried to focus on the lecture, but your gaze kept drifting to the doorway. why did he have to be so difficult?

your next class president task required you to deliver a stack of papers to the student council room.

as you stepped into the hallway, you were so focused on balancing the stack folders in your arms that you didn’t notice sunghoon until it was too late.

the collision was out of nowhere—your foot tumbled over the other. the stack of papers scattered, and you braced yourself for the hard and sudden impact of the floor.

but it never came.

instead, a strong arm snaked around your waist, pulling you back up just before you fell.

you blinked up, startled, to find yourself inches away from sunghoon’s face—his hand was steady, resting on your waist, his other catching your wrist to keep you upright.

“careful president,” he murmured, his voice a whisper and teasing. “you almost took a pretty hard fall there.”

your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to collect yourself. “i-i’m fine hoon. let me go.”

he didn’t budge, his grip firm yet gentle as he tilted his head to look down at you. “you’re always running around so much baby, maybe you should slow down hm?”

your cheeks flushed pink, both from his words and the way his hand lingered on your waist. “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“hmm.” he smirked, finally releasing you but not before stepping closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only you could hear. “you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

your breath hitched. it was a tone only you knew—the soft, teasing warmth he saved just for you.

“stop it,” you hissed under your breath, glancing nervously toward the classroom door.

he chuckled, bending down to collect the scattered papers. “relax. no one’s watching.”

still, you couldn’t shake the warmth spreading through your chest as he handed the papers back to you.

his fingers brushed against yours, and he gave you a look that was so infuriatingly tender it made you want to explode in screams.

“you’re impossible,” you muttered, adjusting the stack in your arms and turning to leave.

“wait,” he said, his voice softer now.

you paused, glancing over your shoulder. “what?”

sunghoon took a step closer, his smirk giving up to something gentler—his hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

before you could process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed a soft, tender kiss to your lips.

your entire body froze, your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“you looked like you needed that,” he murmured, his lips pointing into a grin.

you stared at him, doe eyed and speechless. heat rushed to your cheeks, and you scrambled to find your voice. “y-you can’t just—”

“shh,” he interrupted, placing his finger on your lips to silence you, his grin turning mischievous. “don’t act like you didn’t like it.”

unable to form a coherent response, you spun around and bolted down the hallway, your heart in your throat.

behind you, sunghoon’s laughter echoed softly, followed by his teasing voice calling after you—

“you’re so cute when you run away, president.”

and though you wanted to be mad, you couldn’t help the way your lips turned into a smile as you clutched the papers to your chest, your heart still racing from his touch.

© WON4KISS 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

NOTE. ITS FRIDAY !! this week was actually so stressful i’m so sorry for the inactivity guys :( after january my active era will be making a comeback due to semester changes hehe 😋😋 my ts concert is next friday i’m so excited goodbye.

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

[chastiefoul]

your bf satoru who always 'just happened' to walk in on you while you're changing.

-

"toru! you could've knocked," you claimed, caught completely off guard. the shirt you just took off still hanging on your arm, leaving you in bra and shorts. the man in question was unfazed, he did not even have the decency to look remorseful in the least.

"baby i told you to invite me when you're putting on a show!" his gaze was shameless, roaming around every inch of your skin like he haven't seen it before. "what show? i'm changing, you silly man," you said rolling your eyes at his usual antics, bending your hips as you slid down the black shorts you were wearing.

satoru groaned at the sight.

"this show baby. with a gorgeous body like yours everything is a show, anywhere is your stage. you're the star," he insisted exaggeratedly, his stare still glued to every moment you made. it was clear that the man was infatuated. you could only shook your head in response, a smile couldn't hold itself in.

you immediately noticed he had come to stand unnecessary close after you grabbed fresh clothes from the wardrobe. his greedy gaze was perplexed, as if he couldn't decide where to settle its stare. then he stopped at your chest, lingering a second too long before resting it there, not even trying to be subtle.

"you're staring, toru," you chuckled, pointing the obvious. "fuck, have i not been clear enough about it? sorry baby i'll try harder." he closed the distance between the two of you with ease, putting an arm around your lower back. the shirt that's in your hold dropped to the floor at the sudden genture, your chest all pressed up against him.

"such pretty tits," he whispered, his eyes full of heat. he planted some kisses on your collarbone, trailing all the way down to your bust. his hands squeezed your sides, "perfect hips," he mumbled to your skin. his kisses didn't stop, it really felt like he was singing praise to every part of your body, making sure he didn't miss a single inch. every touch had left your skin aflame, yet you didn't mind.

he kneeled, kissing the side of your thigh. "don't even get me started on these thighs," his bright blue eyes stared at you from below, the rush of excitement that's on your chest was something you couldn't even begin to explain. to have the strongest person kneeling in front you as he worshipped you so lovingly... you must've done something right in your past life was your only conclusion.

satoru began to stand, carrying you along with him. you squealed at the abruptness, but soon your back was met with the familiar softness of your bed. he put his hands on either sides of your head, looking at you like you're his world. he peppered kisses across your face as you laughed, it really felt like he just swallowed sunshine. the funny feeling flowing down his chest was something he'd never get used to, but in no way that it felt bad. not at all.

"you're so perfect baby."

you cupped his face gently, kissing him deeply. whispering words of gratitude against his lips, you felt him smile. which worried you a little since it's one of those mischevous he wore when he's up to no good.

oh you.

so oblivious.

oblivious to the fact that satoru's stream of compliments is far from over.

[brunchable]

𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 [ 3 ]

Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Game of Cat and Mouse. Bucky being stubborn as shit. Summary: Things have turned awkward. You and Bucky hasn't spoken with each other for a few days now. But is the much needed space making things better or worse? A/N: Sorry this took so long lmao. My boy got sick and needed my undivided attention my poor baby but he's better now thank god. A/N: I honestly don't know how to top-up the previous parts but shit, I need them to connect to a deeper level first before jumping into full on smut okay? maybe in the next part. The song sums up the whole fic to be honest lol.

You’d become a master at memorizing Bucky’s schedule, knowing exactly when to leave your apartment to avoid any chance of running into him. But lately, it seemed like Bucky had developed the same strategy, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his presence around the building had become increasingly scarce. It was almost as if he was avoiding you instead.

Today, though, you decided to switch things up by taking the stairs. Sure, it was three flights down, but anything was better than the awkward tension of waiting for the elevator and possibly bumping into him. You clung to the faint hope that the odds would work in your favor, that the stairwell would be empty and uneventful.

But as you descended, the sound of footsteps echoed from below, growing louder with every step. Your stomach flipped, an irrational hope bubbling up before you could quash it. Maybe it’s not him, you thought, though deep down, you already knew better.

Rounding the corner, your heart sank and raced all at once. There he was—Bucky, just a few steps below you, pausing mid-step with his hand gripping the railing. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His expression shifted, a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by something guarded, his jaw tightening as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Oh,” you breathed, your voice softer than you’d intended. “Hi.”

His lips pressed into a tight line before he offered a stiff nod. “Hey,” he replied, his voice low, carefully neutral.

You stared at each other for a beat too long, the air between you thick with unsaid words. He looked almost annoyed—not at you, but at the situation, as if running into you had thrown him off his game. And maybe it had, because for the first time, it wasn’t you avoiding him. It was him avoiding you.

“So…taking the stairs now?” His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed a hint of tension, a wall firmly in place.

You forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to your own ears. “Yeah, um… decided to switch things up. Exercise, you know.”

He nodded once, his grip tightening briefly on the railing before loosening again. “Right. Exercise.”

Another awkward silence settled over you, the sound of distant voices from above faintly filling the void. You shifted on the step, clutching the railing a little too tightly, your mind scrambling for something to say—something that wouldn’t make things worse. But before you could speak, Bucky cleared his throat and took a step to the side, making way for you to pass.

“Alright,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll… see you around.”

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, hesitating for a moment before you stepped past him. “See you.”

As you descended the stairs, your pulse pounded in your ears, each step feeling heavier than the last. You risked a glance back, only to find him already climbing upward, his shoulders tense, his head down. The image lingered in your mind, the sight of him retreating, the weight of his silence pressing down on you like a stone.

You reached the bottom landing, gripping the railing as you let out a slow breath. Part of you wanted to turn around, to call after him. But the words stayed stuck in your throat, tangled up with your own doubts and fears.

If he didn’t want to talk, you wouldn’t force him. But that didn’t make the ache in your chest any easier to bear.

× × × ×

You arrived at work, your mood sour and your thoughts tangled up in that awkward encounter with Bucky on the stairs. The usual morning chatter of the office greeted you. Trying to focus, you went to your desk, arranging your things in a futile attempt to bring some order to your day.

But then you heard them—Trish and Amy, huddled at the corner near the coffee machine, voices low but still clear enough to reach you.

“I just don’t get it,” Trish was saying. “It’s been days, and there’s still no new uploads from SergeantBarnes. Maybe he’s got a new project or something?”

“Or maybe he’s seeing someone?” Amy added with a conspiratorial tone. “I mean, think about it. He’s been off the grid lately. That’s got ‘new fling’ written all over it.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to block out their conversation. It was the last thing you wanted to hear today, and every word just stoked the frustration simmering inside you. You took a deep breath, attempting to rein in your annoyance, but they just kept going, their words grating at you.

“Honestly, it’s like he’s gone quiet for no reason,” Trish went on, sounding genuinely disappointed. “What am I supposed to watch while I’m waiting for Dan to finish his gaming marathons?”

“Is that all you two talk about?”

You couldn’t help it; something inside you snapped. Before you knew it, you turned around, your voice sharper than you intended.

Both Trish and Amy blinked in surprise, their expressions shifting from confusion to embarrassment. You continued, unable to stop yourself now that you’d started. 

“You both have partners, for crying out loud. Do you really need to spend every second gossiping about some guy online?”

They exchanged glances, clearly taken aback. “Jeez, sorry,” Trish muttered, looking both defensive and a little hurt. “We didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“It is when we’re supposed to be working,” you replied, more irritated than you’d intended. “Maybe keep the fan talk out of the office? Or, I don’t know, find a hobby that doesn’t involve obsessing over someone else’s life?”

Silence fell as they looked at you, wide-eyed and a bit stunned. Realizing how harsh you’d sounded, you took a step back, immediately feeling a pang of regret. But the frustration from this morning was still fresh, and you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize just yet. Instead, you turned back to your desk, jaw clenched, hoping the tension in the office would dissipate as the day went on.

At the end of your shift, the weight of the day felt heavier than usual. The tension with Bucky hung over you like a cloud, lingering in your thoughts despite your best efforts to shake it off. It shouldn’t even be this deep—so why were you so affected? It’s just a casual thing, you reasoned with yourself. We’re barely even… whatever this is.

Yet, no matter how many times you told yourself to move on, the thought of Bucky—the way he’d looked at you, the frustration and hurt in his eyes—gnawed at you. You found yourself mentally bargaining, trying to find some middle ground, some way to keep your guard up but let him in a little, too. Maybe if I didn’t overthink it… if I just let it be whatever it is, I wouldn’t feel this way.

As you gathered your things, ready to head out, Trish and Amy approached with hesitant smiles. 

“Hey, you okay?” Trish asked gently, her earlier excitement replaced with genuine concern.

You managed a small, apologetic smile. 

“I’m so sorry about this morning,” you said, glancing between them. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you both. Just… a rough few days.”

They nodded in understanding, exchanging a quick look before Trish turned back to you. 

“No worries, but hey, if there’s something bothering you… maybe we can help? What do you say to grabbing some dinner with us? We can talk or not talk about it?”

Amy’s face lit up as she chimed in. “Yeah! You shouldn’t have to stew over whatever it is alone. Come on, let us treat you to some comfort food.”

Their unexpected warmth and support tugged at something in you, and you felt the weight on your shoulders ease just a little. 

With a small smile, you nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice. Thanks, guys.”

They grinned, and without missing a beat, each linked an arm through yours on either side, leading you toward the door as if they were determined to help you shake off every ounce of stress you’d been carrying. As you walked together, their chatter filled the air, and you let yourself settle into the easy companionship, hoping that maybe tonight would give you the reset you needed.

× × × ×

Across town, Bucky was pouring everything he had into the punching bag in front of him, each hit landing with a force that reverberated through his whole body. The gym was nearly empty, giving him the space to unload, each punch fueled by the frustration and confusion that had been building inside him for days. His jaw was clenched, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he moved, his muscles tense and coiled with pent-up energy. The sharp sound of his fists colliding with the bag echoed through the room, filling the silence as he worked to dump every complicated thought he’d been grappling with.

He had no reason to be as affected as he was, but the whole situation with you had hit him harder than he expected. He’d thought he could brush it off, ignore the strange ache that crept up every time he thought about your last conversation, but it stuck with him.

After a final, powerful jab, Bucky took a step back, breathing heavily as he let his hands drop to his sides. His mind was still a storm of thoughts, the adrenaline from his workout doing little to clear his head.

When he wasn’t working off steam in the gym, Bucky’s day-to-day was far less chaotic than most people would assume. As an automotive engineer at Ford, he spent hours each day under the hood, designing, testing, and refining high-performance engines. His focus had always been on innovation, on precision, on building something that could withstand any test. It was work he loved—real work, with real meaning, where every bolt and every part had a purpose.

The other job, his work in front of the camera, was different. It was an outlet, a separate side of himself he’d chosen to explore. People saw it for what it was on the surface, but it never felt like the core of who he was. You, however, had somehow managed to blur the lines between the two worlds in a way that left him unsteady. And for the first time, he found himself wondering if keeping his other job had been the right one.

The memory of your face—surprised, hesitant, almost wounded—came rushing back to him, making his chest tighten with something more complicated than he was prepared to face. 

Why did it matter so much? She’s just my neighbor, he thought. 

He sighed, pressing his gloved fists to his forehead as he tried to shake off the ache that had settled there. For now, all he could do was keep hitting, keep moving, hoping that maybe, at some point, the weight of it would finally start to lighten.

Later that evening, Bucky found himself in his kitchen, mindlessly stirring a pot on the stove. The rhythmic motion and steady bubbling should have been enough to distract him, but his thoughts kept drifting—inevitably back to you.

He remembered the first time you’d crossed paths in the building, how you’d barely glanced at him as you carried a pile of boxes through the hallway. It had amused him, how determined you were to act unaffected, especially after that sudden recognition flashed in your eyes. That little double-take when you realized who he was had been priceless. He’d leaned into that reaction ever since, throwing little teases and comments just to see your reaction, to see the way your cheeks would flush or how your gaze would flit away, only to sneak back.

There was something refreshing about the way you seemed to care so little about the reputation attached to him—so different from others he’d met. And maybe that was why he couldn’t resist teasing you, why he went out of his way to bump into you, to throw in a bit of banter just to see if he could make you smile or throw him a comeback.

But he never expected it to go beyond that. He didn’t expect that somewhere along the line, those little interactions would turn into something he looked forward to. And now, somehow, it had gotten tangled up with feelings he wasn’t prepared to deal with.

Bucky stirred the pot a little too vigorously, and a few drops splashed over the edge, hissing as they hit the stovetop. His hand stilled as he sighed, feeling the frustration bubble up all over again. This is my fault, he thought, jaw clenching slightly. I shouldn’t have come onto her too strong.

He hadn’t realized he was stirring so absentmindedly until the pot suddenly began to overflow, the liquid spilling over the edge and sizzling against the hot burner. With a muttered curse, he quickly grabbed a towel, lifting the pot off the heat and wiping up the mess, the sharp smell of burnt food pulling him out of his thoughts.

As he turned off the stove, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to make things right with you.

× × × ×

After a long day, you found yourself standing outside Bucky’s door, nerves twisting in your stomach. Just apologize, you told yourself, trying to gather the courage. Get it over with and clear the air. But as you stared at the door, words rehearsed in your mind, you found yourself hesitating. You’d been standing there so long that you’d lost track of time, each second stretching as you cycled through a list of possible things to say, none of which seemed quite right.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your hand to knock when a light, feminine laugh floated through the door, catching you off guard. You froze, your hand mid-air, as the laughter was followed by a familiar deep chuckle. Bucky’s.

"Alright, alright,” you heard him say, sounding more relaxed than you’d ever heard him with you. There was a warmth in his voice that sent a pang through your chest, the kind that came from comfort, closeness.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like you didn’t miss me,” the woman teased, her tone playful and affectionate. “I know you. You’re never this nice to anyone else.”

You swallowed, something tightening in your chest as you listened.

"Alright, guilty," Bucky’s voice softened, almost shy. "Guess you’ve always been a bit of a soft spot."

Your heart twisted, her words and his response echoing in your mind, each line pulling you deeper into a sense of unease. Soft spot? Nice to her in a way he wasn’t with anyone else?

Your mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion, and your cheeks heated as your throat tightened. You felt silly for standing there now, silly for even considering coming over to apologize. What were am I doing? Of course he's with someone.

Just then, you heard footsteps approaching the door, and panic flared. You turned, bolting toward your own apartment, fumbling with your keys as you heard Bucky’s door open behind you. Just as you managed to close your door, you caught a glimpse of him glancing down the hall, his gaze lingering on your door with a curious look.

Bucky’s sister, Becca, caught him glancing toward your door, she raised an eyebrow, nudging him with a knowing smile. 

“What’s up with you?” she asked, a touch of teasing in her voice. “Is everything okay?”

Bucky gave his head a quick shake, trying to dismiss the worry that had settled there. 

“Yeah, yeah… it’s nothing. Just thought I saw something,” he replied, though his gaze lingered a moment longer on your door before he finally turned back to Becca.

She didn’t look convinced. Folding her arms, she tilted her head, giving him a look that only an older sister could manage—the kind that saw right through any attempt to hide. 

“Are you sure? You’ve seemed a little off tonight, Bucky. I don’t think it’s nothing.”

Bucky held up his hands defensively, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips as he tried to brush her off. 

“Nothing! Really, it’s nothing. Now go home, seriously,” he insisted, ushering her toward the elevator with a slight push.

Becca rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it for a second. 

“Right. Nothing,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she gave him a knowing look. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky muttered, a bit more forcefully this time, though he couldn’t quite hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Go on before you start reading my palm or something.”

Becca laughed, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. 

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” she said as she stepped into the elevator, though she gave him one last pointed look as the doors began to close. “But, Bucky? maybe figure out what you want before you drive yourself crazy over it.”

With that, the doors shut, leaving Bucky standing in the quiet hallway, he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he glanced back toward your door.

Later that night, Bucky found himself slumped on his couch, phone in hand as he stared at the search bar. He let out a huff, rolling his eyes at himself as he typed: signs you’re into someone.

The results loaded quickly, and he clicked the first article, skimming the list with a mixture of skepticism and, admittedly, nervous anticipation.

Sign #1: You can’t stop thinking about them. 

He paused, frowning at the screen. “Okay, that’s… kind of obvious,” he muttered, mentally ticking off that box with a begrudging sigh.

Sign #2: You go out of your way to see them.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at his phone, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“That one’s just stupid. I mean, we live in the same building. I don’t go out of my—” He paused, remembering all the times he’d “accidentally” found himself in the hallway when you’d get back from work, or when he’d gone to the laundry room at oddly specific times. “Okay, fine. Maybe sometimes.”

He kept scrolling, and the list grew more absurd—do you get jealous when they talk about other people? Do you go out of your way to impress them? By the end of it, he’d mentally checked off nearly every box, his expression morphing into a blend of reluctant acceptance and amusement.

Bucky sighed, tossing his phone onto the couch beside him. 

“What am I, sixteen?” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. Here he was, a grown man, looking up articles about crushes and ticking off boxes like he needed some random website to validate what he already knew.

But as he sat there, he realized it wasn’t the checklist itself—it was the fact that, for the first time in a long time, he felt like this. Like he actually cared about where things went, enough to drive him to ridiculous measures for some kind of clarity.

With a sigh, he leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of realization settling in. Bucky stared at the ceiling for a few more moments, letting out a deep sigh before grabbing his phone again and pulling up his contacts. Scrolling down to “Steve,” he hesitated for a beat before tapping the call button.

It rang twice before his friend picked up with a cheerful, “Yellow?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling anyway. “Hey, punk.”

“Bucky!” Steve’s voice was light, clearly amused. “What’s up? It’s been a while since you called just to say ‘hi.’”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I… actually had a question. Kind of. For… a friend.”

“Oh, a ‘friend,’ huh? Sure, I’m listening.” Steve chuckled on the other end, and Bucky could practically hear the grin in his voice.

Bucky cleared his throat, leaning back into the couch. 

“Right. So, uh, hypothetically speaking… how do you know if, you know, if you’re into someone? Like, in a way that’s… not just friendly?” His words tumbled out, each one feeling more absurd than the last.

“Your ‘friend’ wants to know how to tell if they’ve got a crush, huh? Didn’t realize we were back in high school, Buck.” Steve snorted, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Bucky sighed, feeling his face heat up. “Look, if you’re gonna be annoying, I’ll just—”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry,” Steve said quickly, though he was still chuckling. “Okay, seriously. Well… I guess if your ‘friend’ can’t stop thinking about her, or if he finds himself looking for reasons to be around her, that’s usually a sign. Or if he’s, you know, protective, feels that weird jealousy thing… you know how it goes.”

Bucky was silent for a second, swallowing as he mentally ticked off each of Steve’s points. “Right. Yeah. Hypothetically, that makes sense,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“And,” Steve continued, now sounding suspiciously entertained, “if your ‘friend’ is calling up his actual best friend in the middle of the night to figure it out… well, that might be a bit of a giveaway, too.”

Bucky groaned, falling back into the couch with a scowl. “Alright, alright, I get it. Thanks, Steve.”

But Steve wasn’t finished. “Hey, Buck? If you’re asking for yourself—which we both know you are—maybe just tell her how you feel. You’re not as subtle as you think, and if she’s worth this much thought… she’s probably worth the risk, too.”

Bucky was quiet, swallowing the mix of nerves and excitement that Steve’s words stirred up. “…Yeah. Thanks, pal.”

× × × × 

The next morning, you were practically sprinting down the hall, head ducked and heart racing, when you heard him call out, “Hey! Y/N—wait up!”

You didn’t dare look back, only quickened your steps, praying he’d let it go. But his footsteps grew closer, and just as you reached the lobby, you felt a hand gently graze your shoulder.

With an awkward yelp, you dodged sideways, almost colliding with a potted plant as you called over your shoulder, “Sorry, Bucky—gotta go! Late for work!” 

You bolted through the doors, ignoring the bewildered look he gave you as you disappeared into the morning rush.

You turned off your phone completely, just to avoid the constant notifications. His messages had started out simple��Hey, can we talk?—but quickly escalated. Each ding had become a taunt, a reminder that, even though he seemed persistent, there was no other reason to face him now. You left your phone off for nearly a full day, and by the time you turned it back on, there were over a dozen missed calls and messages waiting for you, each one a pinch of guilt you tried to ignore.

And just when you thought you’d mastered the art of dodging, fate had other plans.

Untik one bleary-eyed morning, as you rushed out of your apartment with a coffee in one hand and your bag slipping off the other shoulder, you came face-to-face with Bucky at the end of the hallway. There was no escape route this time; he was standing right in your path, his arms folded and an expression somewhere between concerned and utterly frustrated.

You tried to step to the left, but he mirrored you, stepping right into your path.

You shifted right, and he stepped left, blocking you again.

You both paused, sizing each other up. Then, in unison, you both moved left, only to collide shoulders. You exhaled in frustration, darting to the right, but he sidestepped with you again.

“Bucky, please,” you groaned, your patience wearing thin, feeling the minutes tick closer to being late. “I have to go.”

His eyes softened just a little, but he didn’t budge. “Not until you stop running away from me. Can we just talk?”

You scowled, giving him one last sidestep to the left, only to be blocked again. With a frustrated sigh, you finally did the only thing left: you placed both hands on his chest and gave him a firm push, slipping past him before he could react.

“I’m late,” you muttered, not looking back as you all but jogged down the hallway, leaving Bucky in the wake of your retreat, his gaze following you with an expression that told you he wasn’t giving up. Hell no.

× × × ×

Until one day, when you were in the middle of work, a receptionist from the ground floor called up to tell you that someone wanted to see you. Curiosity and irritation flared as you made your way down, a frown already forming on your face. And the second you spotted him—standing in the lobby, arms crossed, looking as frustrated as you’d ever seen him—you felt your heart drop.

You turned on your heel, muttering to yourself, “Unbelievable…” But before you could make it far, he called out.

“Y/N!” His voice echoed across the lobby, and you turned back with a glare.

“What the hell are you doing here, Bucky?” you hissed, stepping closer so your conversation stayed private, though part of you just wanted to get him out of the building before anyone noticed.

His jaw was set, his gaze determined. “Can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Nothing should have happened between us. Let’s just… leave it at that.”

He frowned, visibly taken aback by your bluntness. 

“How can you say that?” he demanded, his voice low but intense.

Your throat tightened, but you held your ground. 

“I need to get back to work,” you said, not meeting his eyes. You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you once again.

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly. “I’ll wait right here until you clock out if that’s what it takes. We’re going to talk, Y/N.”

You groaned, feeling a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Bucky, go home.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he took a seat in one of the lobby chairs, crossing his arms and settling in as if he were prepared to stay all night. Despite the receptionist’s raised eyebrows and curious glances from passing employees, Bucky stayed put, a stubborn expression on his face that only grew more determined with each hour that passed.

Throughout the afternoon, you tried to focus on your work, but every so often, curiosity and frustration got the better of you. By mid-afternoon, you found yourself messaging the receptionist, unable to resist asking, “Is he still there?”

The reply was quick and confirmed what you feared: “He hasn’t moved. Just sitting there, staring at his phone.”

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt despite yourself. “Could you… maybe offer him a drink or something? He’s not going to leave, is he?”

The receptionist’s response was amused. “Already tried. Said he’s fine, but he appreciates it.”

The next day, he was there again, seated in the same chair, his arms crossed and his expression set like stone. This time, he came prepared—there was coffee waiting on the front desk with your name on it. When Trish and Amy teased you about the mysterious admirer, you convinced them to sneak out the back exit with you after work.

The day after that, he stepped it up. Roses. A beautiful arrangement of vibrant blooms appeared on your desk, the receptionist delivering them with a knowing smile. Your coworkers were relentless, whispering about your "secret boyfriend" and giving you sly grins every time they passed your desk. Again, you dodged them and Bucky, slipping out the back exit before he could catch you.

But no matter how much you avoided him, Bucky didn’t give up. Each morning, he was there, as stubborn as a mule—or more appropriately, as stubborn as Bucky Barnes. His persistence was unwavering, his resolve impossible to break.

Finally, on the fourth day, the receptionist herself came up to your floor, pulling you aside with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone friendly but firm, “you’ve got to talk to him.”

Your stomach twisted as you glanced at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She arched a brow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection. 

“Your man. He’s down there again. Same chair, same determined look. And he’s got flowers. Again.” She folded her arms, her expression softening slightly. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but he’s been here every day for the past four days. He’s polite, patient, doesn’t bother anyone, but... it’s obvious he’s waiting for you.”

Your cheeks burned, and you felt the weight of her words settle over you. “He’s not my—”

“Y/N.” She cut you off, giving you a pointed look. “Just talk to him. If for no other reason than to put him out of his misery. I’ve worked here for five years, and I’ve never seen anyone that persistent. Trust me, most guys wouldn’t even wait an hour.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “He’s... complicated.”

The receptionist chuckled, shaking her head. “Aren’t they all? But the way he’s sitting down there, looking like a kicked puppy one minute and a stubborn bulldog the next? That’s not complicated. That’s someone who cares.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “Don’t let something good slip away just because it’s messy.”

Her words lingered long after she walked away, leaving you standing in the hallway, your heart thundering in your chest. You peeked toward the elevator, debating whether you could sneak out through the back again. But deep down, you knew she was right.

Bucky was waiting. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your things, bracing yourself for what was bound to be another conversation you weren’t sure you were ready for.

× × × ×

You stepped into the lobby, your pulse quickened. There he was, sitting exactly where he’d planted himself hours ago, looking a little rumpled, maybe even tired, but every bit as determined as ever. His gaze lifted the moment you appeared, and for a second, his whole expression softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Relief, warmth, maybe even something more—it was all there, clear as day, and somehow it made this moment feel… different.

Bucky rose, a small, boyish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he approached. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you, letting the silence between you speak. The noise of the lobby faded away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in a quiet, invisible bubble.

You forced yourself to stay steady, trying to keep the upper hand. Arms crossed, you raised an eyebrow at him. “So… you camped out here all day?”

His smile turned a little sheepish, but there was no hint of apology in his tone. 

“Told you I’d wait. Figured you’d come down eventually.” He took a half-step closer, his voice soft and warm, laced with that casual mischief that made it impossible not to smile.

You rolled your eyes, biting back the smile creeping up. “Could’ve just… I don’t know, texted? Called? Like a normal person?”

He tilted his head, his grin widening just enough to make your heart trip over itself. 

“I tried that, remember? Didn’t seem to work on you.” He shrugged, completely unfazed. “So I figured I’d go old-school. Sometimes persistence pays off.”

“Persistence,” you muttered, pretending to sound exasperated. “You mean showing up uninvited?”

Before Bucky could answer, the unmistakable chatter of Trish and Amy echoed from the elevator behind you. Your heart jumped into your throat. Oh no. Absolutely not.

Without thinking, you stepped closer to Bucky, practically pressing yourself against him as you yanked your bag off your shoulder and lifted it up like a makeshift shield to block both of your faces.

Bucky froze, his body stiffening at your sudden proximity, but his expression quickly shifted to pure amusement. His lips twitched as he looked down at you, your bag wobbling precariously on the side of your faces.

“Um… what are you doing?” he whispered, his breath brushing against your forehead.

“Shhh!” you hissed, tilting the bag slightly to peek over it. Trish and Amy were slowly walking toward the front doors, their voices growing louder. “Just… don’t move. They can’t see me with you.”

“And why’s that?” Bucky asked, his voice low and teasing, though he didn’t budge. Instead, he leaned down a fraction, his face hovering closer to yours. “Afraid they’ll get the wrong idea?”

“No, I’m afraid they’ll get the right idea,” you snapped under your breath, glaring up at him.

His eyes sparkled, and his grin widened. “Oh, really? And what idea would that be, sweetheart?”

“Bucky,” you warned, the heat rising in your cheeks as you tilted your bag higher, completely covering his smirking face.

But Bucky didn’t seem fazed. If anything, he seemed more amused, his gaze dropping to your face like you were the most fascinating thing he laid eyes upon. His voice softened, the teasing edge replaced by something warmer. 

“You know, you’re really bad at hiding.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

He chuckled, his chest vibrating lightly against you. “Not gonna lie, this might be the highlight of my day. You, using me as a human shield. Very flattering.”

“Oh shut up,” you whispered, but your voice wavered, betraying the way your pulse was racing.

Trish and Amy finally passed by, oblivious to the two of you tucked against the corner. You let out a breath of relief, slowly lowering your bag. But before you could step away, you realized how close you were—Bucky’s face mere inches from yours, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter.

His voice dropped, soft and almost reverent. “You can hide from them all you want. But you can’t keep hiding from me, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare back at him, caught in the pull of his gaze. The noise of the lobby faded again, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

“I told you,” he murmured, his tone steady but impossibly gentle. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

You tried to ignore the thrill of butterflies that his words sparked. “Like I said, there’s nothing to talk about, Bucky. We should just keep our distance from each other okay?”

He took a steadying breath, his brows drawing together, his voice losing that playful edge. 

“How can you just decide that?” he asked, his tone almost pleading. “You don’t even know…”

You shifted, heart pounding. “Because I know you’re already seeing someone else. I don’t need to be another complication in your life.”

He blinked, visibly taken aback. And then, just as quickly, his face softened, an incredulous, almost disbelieving laugh escaping him. 

“Seeing someone else? Where did you get that idea?”

Heat crept up your cheeks as you tried to hold your ground. “I—I heard her, okay? When I was at your door the other day. The laughing, the… the way you sounded with her…” You bit your lip, looking anywhere but at him.

“Oh.” 

He let out another breathy laugh, shaking his head as if you’d just told him the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. 

“Y/N… that wasn’t a date. She’s not—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of exasperation and utter amusement. “She’s my sister.”

Your mouth dropped open, the realization hitting you like a freight train. “… what?”

“Yeah, my sister, Becca. She was just in town visiting.” He gave you a look of pure, amused disbelief, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “God, you really thought I was seeing someone?”

“Well, what else was I supposed to think?” you muttered, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

Bucky’s smile softened, and he took another step closer, until there was hardly any space between you. 

“You should’ve just asked,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Instead of. . . I don’t know? Avoiding me like the plague?”

You tried to summon a retort, but your heart was racing, your thoughts jumbled by his proximity and the way his gaze seemed to hold you captive.

Bucky chuckled, the sound soft and full of affection as he reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“All this because of a misunderstanding?” His voice was low, his hand lingering, fingers brushing against your cheek. “I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out why you’re dead set on ignoring me.”

You managed to look up at him, heart pounding as you searched his eyes, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room. 

“So… you’re not seeing anyone?”

“There’s only one person I want to see,” he murmured, his hand dropping from your face and now brushing against your arm. “And I thought I’m making that pretty clear?”

Your mouth opened and closed then opened again, “Okay. . .”

“Okay. . .” Bucky chuckles and steps back, “Shall we. . . restart?”

A flicker of surprise crossed your face, and a warmth bloomed in your chest at his invitation. You’d spent so many days tangled in your own assumptions, convinced things between you were over before they even began, and here he was, offering an olive branch with that disarming smile.

“Restart?” you echoed, your heart skipping a beat as you met his gaze.

He nodded, his expression softening even more. “Yeah.”

You gave him a small, hesitant smile, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. “Yeah… I think I’d like that.”

Bucky’s grin widened, relief and something warmer sparking in his eyes. “Great. Let’s go home?”

“U-Uh, sure.”

× × × ×

The streets were alive with the hum of the city—cars rushing by, distant chatter from groups of people, and the occasional burst of laughter from passersby. But despite the liveliness around you, there was an unspoken tension in the air.

You noticed the way women’s heads turned as you passed, their gazes lingering a little too long on Bucky. It didn’t help that he looked effortlessly handsome, his casual outfit somehow drawing more attention than it should have. A part of you wanted to roll your eyes, but another part couldn’t blame them.

Bucky didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care. His focus remained on you, his stride matching yours, though there was a slight hesitation in his step.

“You’re quiet,” you murmured, glancing up at him as you adjusted the bouquet in your arms.

He let out a soft hum, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Just thinking,” he said, his voice low.

“About?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly before he finally spoke. “About that night.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you instinctively looked away, focusing on the ground ahead of you. 

“I thought we weren’t going to bring that up,” you said softly, your voice tinged with both unease and curiosity.

“We have to talk about it eventually,” he replied, his tone steady but gentle. “I don’t like leaving things unresolved, Y/N.”

When you finally reached the corner of your block, you slowed your steps. Bucky noticed, his own pace matching yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

The two of you moved to the quieter steps of your building, sitting side by side. The soft hum of the city buzzed around you, but it felt distant, like it belonged to another world entirely. Your bag rested on your lap, your face soft under the streetlights, but the tension in the air was anything but light.

Bucky broke the silence first, his hands clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. 

“I’ve been wanting to say this for a while,” he started, his voice low but steady. “That night… I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself.”

You blinked, turning to him in surprise. “Mad at yourself?”

He nodded, his jaw clenching for a moment before he continued. “Yeah. I thought I’d scared you off, made you feel like I wasn’t taking you seriously. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to think I was just… using you.”

Your fingers tightened around the bouquet, the ache in his voice tugging at something deep in your chest. 

“Bucky, it wasn’t just about you,” you admitted quietly. “It was me, too. I panicked. I wasn’t sure if I could handle…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Handle what your life looks like.”

His head tilted slightly, his blue eyes softening as he looked at you. “Because of my job,” he said gently, not as a question, but a statement.

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. 

“It’s hard, Bucky. I hear my coworkers talking about you—about SergeantBarnes—all the time. They don’t know it’s you, but it’s constant. They treat you like… like you’re this fantasy, this unattainable thing. And it’s not just them. It’s everyone who sees you online, who only knows that part of you.”

He stayed silent, letting your words settle, his gaze never leaving your face.

“And then there’s me,” you continued, your voice wavering slightly. “I don’t want to be another name on a list or someone who gets overshadowed by… by the version of you that everyone else thinks they know.”

Bucky leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees as he turned his head to look at you. The streetlights cast a soft glow over his face, highlighting the sincerity in his expression.

“I get that,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “And I hate that you feel that way. But Y/N, you’re not another name on a list to me. You’re not someone who gets lost in all of that… noise.”

You held his gaze, the weight of his words settling in your chest. His patience today, his persistence—it wasn’t the action of someone who saw you as fleeting or inconsequential. It was the effort of someone who cared, deeply.

Bucky sighed softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I’ve kept my work and personal life separate for a reason. It’s always been easier to compartmentalize, to keep everything from bleeding into each other. But now? Now I realize that I didn’t think about what would happen if someone—if you—became significant to me.”

Your chest tightened, his words chipping away at the insecurities you’d been holding onto. “Bucky…”

Bucky turned toward you fully, his blue eyes locking onto yours, raw and unguarded in a way that made your heart ache. 

“If I told you that I want to spend every day and night with you—not just because I like you, but because you’ve become the one constant person I can’t stop thinking about. If I told you that you’re my sanity when the world feels like chaos, my laughter, my desire, my comfort, my day and my night, my cold and heat—If I told you that, would you think that translates to only wanting you as ‘one of my girls’?”

Your breath caught, the raw honesty in his words shaking you. “Bucky…”

“I know my job makes things messy,” he continued, his voice quieter now, like he was almost ashamed. “But I get it—I get why it’s hard for you. I hate that it’s something that puts distance between us.”

He looked down at his hands for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “If I could go back and change things, I would. I’d do whatever it takes to make this easier for you.”

Your throat tightened, the sincerity in his voice making it hard to speak. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to change who you are for me,” you said softly.

“It’s not about changing who I am,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s about making sure I don’t lose something.”

Bucky exhaled slowly, his hands fidgeting as he leaned back against the step, staring up at the night sky for a moment before turning his gaze back to you.

“I’m gonna be really honest with you, Y/N,” he started, his voice low, hesitant. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do about the… other stuff yet. It’s not as simple as just walking away. I’ve got contracts, commitments—it’s not something I can just drop overnight.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but you nodded, appreciating his honesty even as the knot in your stomach grew. 

"And that means... what exactly?" you asked, even though deep down, you already knew.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and he let out an exasperated chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Do you really want me to say it? Do I have to say it?”

You didn’t flinch this time, your voice cutting through the tension with unsettling clarity. “It means you have to keep having sex with other porn stars… right?”

Bucky winced at the bluntness of your question, the words hitting him harder than he expected. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to the ground as he wrestled with what felt like shame.

You sighed heavily, pressing the heel of your hand against your forehead as you shut your eyes tightly. Your mind was spinning, your emotions tangled in a knot you couldn’t untie. Out of all the men that could catch your interest, why did it have to be him?

“You are the most complicated guy I’ve ever met,” you said, letting out a short, humorless laugh that carried no amusement, only exhaustion. “Oh my gosh, I honestly don’t even know—” You paused, your voice faltering as you opened your eyes and looked at him, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “How would you make it easier for me, Bucky? How?”

Bucky swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his lips parted, his gaze flickering over your face. He was clearly thinking, his mind working furiously to find a solution, any solution.

"Do you… not like the idea of me with other women?" he asked tentatively, his tone cautious.

You snorted, narrowing your eyes at him. "That’s a stupid question, Bucky."

"Just say yes or no," he pressed, his gaze intent.

"Yes, I do not like the idea," you snapped, your tone sharp with irritation. "But I can’t prevent it, can I?"

Bucky took a deep breath, his jaw tightening as he stared at you. Then, his next words came out carefully, almost testing the waters. 

“What if. . .you do it with me?”

Your eyes widened, disbelief flooding your expression as his suggestion hung in the air. 

Slowly, a startled laugh escaped your lips. 

"Are you joking? You’re out of your mind if you think I’d showcase my body to the world like that!"

"I’m not saying you have to," he said quickly, his hands raising defensively. "I just thought… maybe it’d feel different. Less like I’m with strangers. Maybe it’d feel like I’m with you."

"Bucky," you said, your voice heavy with disbelief, "that’s not a solution. That’s… whatever that is, it’s insane."

His shoulders sagged slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the roots in frustration. 

“I know it sounds insane,” he muttered, his tone rough. “But I’m trying to find a way to make this work. To make this easier for you.”

You shook your head, letting out a long breath. You stared at Bucky, your frustration and disbelief simmering just beneath the surface. 

“Me… doing that with you? Just so I can handle this better?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, I know. But I hate the thought of you being upset every time I have to perform. And yeah, maybe it’s a selfish thought, but if it were with you… at least it’d feel real. Like it means something.”

You bit your lip, his words tugging at something inside you. But the idea of putting yourself in front of a camera, of having your body displayed for the world—it made your stomach churn. "Bucky, that’s not… I don’t know if I could ever do that. It’s not me. It’s not what I want people to see of me."

He nodded slowly, his hands fidgeting in his lap. "I get that," he said softly. "But if it’s the only way to make this easier for you… I just thought—"

"You thought what?" you interrupted, cutting him off. "That I’d suddenly be okay with the idea of putting my body out there for millions of people to see? That I’d somehow be okay sharing you like that, even if it’s just on-screen?"

Bucky flinched at your tone, his jaw tightening. "I don’t want you to share me. I don’t want any of this to be a problem for us. But you don’t trust that I’m serious about you, and I’m just trying to find a way to show you."

You let out a shaky breath, your thoughts spinning. He wasn’t wrong—it was hard to trust, hard to believe that someone with a job like his could be serious about anyone, let alone you. But his suggestion… it wasn’t the answer. Was it?

For a moment, you considered something that had never crossed your mind before. The idea was ludicrous, insane even, but it lingered in the back of your thoughts like a whisper. Your lips parted hesitantly, the words tasting strange on your tongue as you said them.

"If I agreed… hypothetically," you started, your voice faltering slightly, "would I… would I have to show my face?"

Bucky blinked, taken aback by your question. For a moment, his expression softened, a mix of relief and regret washing over his face. 

“It’s only a suggestion. . . you don’t have to do this, if you’re uncomfortable." he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I just… I threw it out there because I’m desperate to find a way to make this work.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. 

“I don’t know. But the thought of you with someone else… it makes me sick. And now I feel like I’m stuck, like there’s no winning in this situation.”

Bucky studied you for a long moment, his blue eyes filled with understanding. You could see him weighing his next words carefully, as if they could tip the balance in either direction.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft yet steady. “You know what? Forget I said any of that,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, almost sheepish smile. “It’s too much for tonight. For both of us.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. “Bucky—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, shaking his head. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to feel like this has to be some big, impossible decision right now. We’re both exhausted from this conversation, and I don’t want to mess it up any more than I already have.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, a mix of relief and guilt swirling in your chest. He was giving you an out, a way to step back from the overwhelming weight of it all, and you weren’t sure whether to thank him or cry.

“How about this,” Bucky said, leaning forward slightly, his tone softer now. “Let’s just… hit pause for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll do something normal. Something simple. Let’s go on a date—no heavy talks, no complicated feelings. Just us.”

Your eyes searched his, finding nothing but sincerity in his gaze. It wasn’t an easy fix, and it wouldn’t erase the doubts or the fears that still lingered between you. But it was a step forward, a way to reconnect without the weight of everything else pressing down on you both.

“A date?” you asked, your lips twitching into a hesitant smile.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile growing a little. “Somewhere fun, somewhere we can just… breathe. No drama, no cameras, just you and me.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You make it sound so easy.”

Bucky’s grin widened, and he shrugged, a teasing glint in his eye. “That’s because it can be. We don’t have to solve everything at once, Y/N. We just have to take it one step at a time.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the tension in your chest loosen ever so slightly. 

“Alright,”you said, your voice steadying. “Tomorrow, we’ll go on a date.”

Bucky’s smile was warm and genuine, and for a moment, the weight of the evening lifted. 

"Awesome," he said, standing up and offering you his hand. "Now, let me walk you up. Can’t let you carry bag on your own."

You laughed softly, taking his hand as he helped you to your feet. As the two of you walked back into your building, the night air seemed a little lighter. Although at the back of your thought, a question lingers. Should you agree to his suggestion?

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[zephswritingthings]

“Well sure,” I nodded at the vampire. I’d dealt with enough of them to know that this one was new. Not fresh, those still smelled too much of grave and blood to do things like calmly walk into a stranger’s home. New though, new enough he didn’t know who I was. As such he didn’t notice when the slow grin I gave him had a few too many teeth. “I thought about getting one that said ‘be welcome’ but that seemed a little on the nose.”

“Dangerous thing, to live in a place like this and have a truly welcoming mat on your doorstep.” He gestured with my remote at the rest of my house. It was a little place, secluded by my half wild garden despite its place near the center of town. Perfect for my needs, perfect in theory for his as well. When he stood it was with the slow fluidity of a predator.

“Dangerous for whom?” I walked past him into my kitchen, laying down my basket on the counter and watching him stalk closer out of the corner of my eyes. I picked the green onions out of the pile, along with my wooden cutting board and knife. When I turned to face him he jumped slightly, sliding onto the bar stool at my kitchen island as if that had been his destination all along.

“Your door came unlatched when I shook it.”

“Sure did.” My smile hadn’t dimmed as I stepped up to the island with my board and got to work cutting the onions. “I’m making stew, will you be staying for dinner?”

“I don’t think we have the same definition of the word.” He was trying to match my grin now but his eyes kept flicking nervously towards my knife and the calm decisiveness with which it moved. Though perhaps it was my thin leather gloves that had caught his eye, or the way I hadn’t yet taken them off.

“Would you like to count the lentils before I put them in the stew?” I met his eyes and watched him flinch. Ah, one of the more classic of the lot then. I felt a thrill fill me. It had been much too long since I went toe to toe with one who wouldn’t immediately burn upon contact with the sun. “It may keep you entertained while you try to find vermin who will bow to your will.”

“Ah,” guilt flashed across his face. I’d caught him in the act. An act which I was well used to, too well used to perhaps. I had a deal with the vermin who lived in and around my cottage. A deal with me transcended any minor control a vampire may be able to wield over them. “I seem to have underestimated you.”

“Your ilk always do.” My smile changed, shifting to something closer to pity. I allowed my glamour to wash away as I added the onions to the pot that had been simmering all day. My ears lengthened and sharpened to knife points, the whites bled from my eyes, my pupils consuming all colour. Some things only changed slightly. My hair stayed in its long braid down my back, though it took on a metallic sheen. The overalls and loose linen shirt I wore stayed the same the dirt simply vanished. The extra joint in both my arms, legs, and fingers wasn’t immediately noticeable but they would be. “Since we’re being honest you should know a few things.”

He gulped visibly as I turned to face him. Neither breathing nor swallowing was actually necessary to vampires but old habits and all. If he’d had any blood in him it would have drained from his face. Instead I had to settle for the ways the whites over took his eyes and the skin tightened around his face. There are very few things in the world for vampires to fear. I count myself among them.

“My home is easy to enter, it will always be easy to enter, but only those with my explicit permission may leave. ” I spoke softly, the surety of my words needing no added volume. I ticked each point off on my long fingers. “You have trespassed with no intent of obeying the rules of hospitality. I am the shadow in the night, the thing humans whisper to their children to ensure good behaviour, and the thing that keeps the night hospitable.”

He tried to run. My sigh followed him down the short hall to the entryway. His shriek as he tried to open the door without checking it first sent a fire thrumming through my veins. It was truly a work of art, it had taken me decades to craft the perfect closure to my trap. Only a human would be able to open that door without effort and pain. A human or me, who knew its every secret. Despite that he was still scrabbling at the door with bloody hands when I reached him. He whipped around, pressing his back against the door in an attempt to get away from me and then hissing, whimpering like a wounded animal as his feet slipped out from under him.

“Another thing you should know.” I crouched in front of him, feet flat on the ground, every joint bent as I loomed into his space. He whimpered again. “You are a pathetic example of your ilk, but it’s not really me you should fear. I am not the reason so many fear the dark.”

“That’s us?” He whispered, voice cracking as though it didn’t want to do the thing he was asking of it.

“No.” A voice spoke from the shadows of my hall. The woman who stepped out of the shadow was dark in every place I was light. Midnight dark hair flowed loose down her back, skin the colour of shadows, but the shimmering moonlight of her eyes is what always caught my attention. Had for a millennia and I doubted it would ever stop. “That would be me.”

“My love.” I breathed the words even as I stayed perfectly still. Her hand ghosted over the back of my head, sending shivers down my spine, even as her eyes stayed locked on the trembling creature in front of me. “You’ve caught another treat for me in your beautiful web.”

“He’s still fresh.”

“I’m still alive!” His voice shattered on the word.

“You misunderstand the meaning of the word.” Her hand moved to his cheek, nails racking back into his hair. She pulled him to his feet as a litany of pleas fell from his mouth. I wondered if he knew what half the words even meant, I wondered when the last time he’d met someone stronger than him was. “I have feasted on children, on elders, on the healthy and hale, on those brought low by power or disease, I have tasted the original of the vampiir. You are fresh, they were ancient and full of power, you are full of potential. Sweetness?”

She turned to me as I straightened. I raised an eyebrow at her. It was unusual for her to stop mid rant.

“I will be back for supper.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my cheek. As she did her feet started to fade. I smiled and stepped away, I’d followed her into the shadows only once, it was an experience I did not wish to repeat. He started squirming in earnest as she stepped back into the shadows with him. In the shadows there were few and far between who would be able to hear his cries, and fewer still who would listen to them.

I went to stir my soup. She’d be more solid after her meal, and hungry for real food. I would have it ready for her. This was the nature of our deal. As long as I kept her and fed her she would never leave. The night would stay hospitable and I would be happy.

After a long day you come home and flick on the lights. Someone who looks to be a stereotypical vampire is fiddling with your remotes. Before you can speak, they simply say: “Did you know you have a piece of rug that says ‘Come right on in’ in front of your door?”