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#because every name is said a first and last time by someone
ewreckedshin · 2 days
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yandere!Aventurine x obsessed reader
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Word Count: 1,143
Brief Description: Self-aware Aventurine poses as an online friend and "consensually" kidnaps you into the game, yandere x yandere type of situation
Brief-er Note: Miraculously people actually saw my last post, therefore I made the spacing slightly less atrocious but the grammar’s gonna stay shit for the balance
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Just imagine… one day you get a strange friend request. You must’ve declined this person a thousand times, wanting to keep your friend list clear as you didn’t need any pesky real people in this space reserved only for your precious Aventurine. 
But fine, they were persistent enough that you cave, curious to see what they possibly wanted. The first thing you notice is that they had no profile picture at all, and named themselves “Aventurine”
“Must be one of those roleplay people,” you muse.
Then they’re messaging you daily, always checking in on you, speaking as though they were the character himself. And poor you, your delusional heart couldn’t take it anymore. You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with Aventurine as your HSR “friend” provides you with unlimited conversations that only serve to add more dimensionality to his character, making him feel like a real person
Slowly your life grew increasingly dull and colorless, while the sole center of your will to live became the charming blonde character with literal rose-tinted glasses and a captivating smile. 
Your online friend only encourages this behavior, claiming that you need Aventurine to feel good and everything else in this world only serves to take away from that. And of course, why wouldn’t you agree? Where’s the flaw in that logic?
At night time, you’re barely able to fall asleep due to the sheer excitement overflowing your body, pathetically wrapping an arm around yourself as if it were Aventurine holding you. 
If you only knew how he was watching you through the screen, luring you in closer and closer, waiting for the perfect moment to save you from your miserable dilemma. 
The truth was that a while back Aventurine had figured there was something off about the Trailblazer. Every day around the same time they would stop moving and stand there blankly, as if someone had shut them off from the outside.
He found the source that controlled the trailblazer and when he shut it off, he was met with a different face: yours. 
As the days passed Aventurine began to feel a strange connection with you, as though this world had a secret that only the two of you knew. There was nobody left in his world that he trusted, but you were different. 
You weren’t a part of his world… and he could tie none of its cruelty to you. You were his fresh start.
His skin crawled with impatience at hearing you speak but never getting to touch you. He would blush when you showered him with endless compliments… did you really mean everything you said? 
Aventurine becomes infatuated with all of your little mannerisms, memorizing the way you move, the fluctuations in your tone, how you had a habit of adjusting his character on the screen to mimic the height difference between you two in real life. What others would call creepily obsessed, Aventurine found adorable.
He’d hear you cry over the cruelty of your own world… and Aventurine had never felt more desperate, verging on the edge of insanity in his drive to find some method to communicate with you. He wanted you to use him to soothe any sorrows and even abandoned a business trip halfway through to find a way of communication.
Once he managed to access the messages that were in this “Honkai Star Rail” world he now knew he was a part of, he immediately sent a friend request only to be left wondering why you weren’t accepting it. Despite feeling devastatingly dejected, he persisted because he just knew he’d be the one to help you.
He tried to keep up his collected facade around his fellow IPC workers. He didn’t want them to find out anything about this, especially Topaz or Ratio.
One time a new worker almost caught him in the act. Almost. But it was enough to plant the seed of paranoia within him, that he might find out about your existence which was a secret only he was allowed to know of. The worker was never found again and Aventurine casually dismissed it as a runaway case, charming words instantly soothing their suspicions.
He was caught in a tug of war between selfish possession and the pure, unbridled need to be used by you however you pleased.
Normally Aventurine relies on mere chance… but for you, everything was precisely calculated. He would make sure that there was a 100% success rate.
When the moment is right, Aventurine messages you to close your eyes for a surprise.
He shuts off the trailblazer’s body, whispering half-sincere sorries as his heart pounded in excitement, knowing that once they were "asleep" he can bring you in. It was at this point that he realized he was too far gone, but he didn’t care about anything but you.
The first time he sees you in his world, you’re disoriented and glancing around in bewilderment. He awaits you with a calm smile and closed-off eyes, but you had spent so much time studying his appearance that you instantly saw the tremors behind his practiced expression, as though he were secretly incredibly nervous. 
He reaches out a single gloved hand, not quite touching you so as to not shatter the sweet illusion. His expression was steady but his bright pink pupils rapidly flicker all over your face. He’s waiting for you to make the first move, just so that he could immediately comply with anything you asked for.
You, on the other hand, had been repeating to yourself  “Aventurine is real” like a mantra 24/7 for the past few weeks. It didn’t take long for you to quickly accept your new situation although you felt like you could barely breathe from the intensity of your feelings at being inside of the HSR world.
Aventurine gets straight to the point and offers you a deal. “Come with me and I’ll take you to a paradise where it’s only the two of us for the rest of our lives,” he starts.
He’s sympathetic as he mentions the other choice, “I mean you could always choose to go back, but I don’t want you to live a meaningless life…” 
Aventurine truly means it when he uses the word “choice.” Although it would tear him to pieces, he knew he would gladly take the eternal pain of your rejection if that was what you wanted.
The answer was obvious to you: you felt as though you were drowning in an ocean of nothingness, and here was the one beacon of light in your life offering to save you.
You try not to look too desperate as you immediately say yes, eyes half-crazed as your hands slightly tremble from resisting the urge to hug him with all your strength. 
Luckily, he makes that choice for you the second he senses your stance and embraces your body, softly caressing your hair as he all but breathes you in. “As long as you desire it I will stay with you past anything. Feel free to use me as you wish.”
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💖Note:
I love the idea of a yandere situation where the obsession is reciprocated
I think this is gender-neutral but if I accidentally slapped the word pussy in there don't come for me (or do :D)
Anyways have a lovely day, may your thoughts be happy and dong be long :D =D
Unless you want a short one, you can have it don’t cry no pressure ;v;
Btw i haven’t slept in 2 days but that's ok because somewhere on ao3 an author hasn't slept in 2 years I'm sure
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doomhands-jr · 2 days
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The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 4
Noah Sebastian X Reader
Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?
Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Warnings: Blow job, drug use, swearing, angst, noah getting humbled
Masterlist
________
“Fuck,” Noah whispered. “Just like that.”
Noah couldn’t remember who was sucking his dick. He could barely remember how he got upstairs. He thought her name might begin with an S? Maybe? But her mouth was so warm and inviting. And wet. And when she hummed, it vibrated.
His head lolled to the side. Had the couch always been this soft?
She pulled off him with a “pop” and stroked his shaft a few times.
“Mmmm,” he hummed, letting out a soft giggle and allowing his lids to close.
He’d have to ask Jolly what that pill was. He wanted to feel like this all the time.
“You like that?” the girl asked. What the fuck was her name? Sarah? No… Savannah? Something like that. She looked up at him and he didn’t think he’d ever seen a face more vibrant or beautiful than hers.
Except for maybe yours. But he didn’t want to think about that, because it was bringing down his vibe, and he had someone right in front of him who was so, so beautiful, and whose mouth was the warmest mouth he’d ever felt in his life.
“Yeah,” he said, marveling at the tingling sensation in his fingertips as he rubbed them together, paying special attention to the calluses on his fingers. She squeezed his dick again and his focus was brought back to her. “Do it again please?”
She enveloped the head of his dick in her mouth once more. He didn’t think she could get a tighter seal around him. His eyes rolled back. Noah was certain if she kept up at this rate, she’d rid him of whatever negative energy dwelled in his body, and he’d walk away an enlightened man.
“You’re so fuckin’ warm,” he muttered, noticing for the first time that his own voice carried many layers to it. He hummed out a note, feeling his vocal folds vibrate with such a pleasant intensity that he forgot all about the woman whose mouth he was currently in and began practicing his vocal warmups. He could hear his voice getting better in real time.
“They’re right,” he giggled between warmups.. “I should do my vocal exercises more. These are great.”
The woman said something that Noah didn’t catch, but his awareness was once again brought to his dick, and this time, his focus was locked in. All the sudden, he was on a sensation train that was approaching its crescendo. When it did, Noah’s body blasted into a liminal space, where he was met with a wave of warm, glowing light.
Was he crying? He thought he might have been crying, but he didn’t know what about. Surely it was nothing sad, because no sadness could exist here. He was wrapped in pure love and light.
“It’s like heaven,” he slurred.
And then his body slipped away and he was nothing more than divine consciousness, floating in the ether.
_____________
“Noah!”
Someone was shooting off fireworks in the hallway.
No, that wouldn’t make sense.
Someone was knocking on the door. His eyelids were too heavy for him to lift.
“Noah, wake up, man.”
He vaguely registered the sound of the door opening. “Aw, gross! Get your pasty ass off Jolly’s couch.”
Noah groaned, feeling for the waistband of his boxers, realizing they were still pulled down around his ankles.
“What happened?” he rasped out. His throat was beyond dry. His head pounded with every pulse.
“You tell me. Last thing I remember is you disappearing with that Tiffany chick.”
Noah’s eyes flew open. “Tiffany?” He scrubbed a palm over his face. That girl had been after him for months. Showed up to every party and clung to him like a barnacle on the side of a boat. Always interjected herself into conversations and has cockblocked him on more than one occasion. Despite actively ignoring her when she’s around, she never took the hint to leave him alone.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Why did you let me go upstairs with her?” he asked, finally looking up to see Ruffilo standing above him with his hands on his hips, looking very much like a disappointed mother.
“It’s not my job to babysit you, dude. Plus, you insisted it was fine.”
Noah rolled over and clenched his throat to stop himself from hurling.
“How much did I drink?” he rasped out.
“I don’t know. But whatever you took clearly didn’t mix well with it.”
“No shit,” he said, rolling off the couch. His knees smacked against the hardwood floor, the impact ricocheting up to his head, forcing him into a wince.
“Can you please put some pants on?” his friend said, rolling his eyes as he turned his back toward Noah.
With great effort, Noah hoisted himself off the floor and into a semi-standing position so he could pull his boxers and jeans back up.
“My eyes are killing me,” he croaked.
“Yeah, no shit dude. You still have those weird-ass things in.”
Noah stumbled across the hall to the bathroom, the acrid feeling of bile crawled its way up his chest, intensifying the closer he got. He threw the toilet lid and seat back, knees hitting tile as he curled over the lip of the bowl to vomit the remainder of last night’s drinks. 
His head pounded, every heave forcing blood up into his face, the vessels in his eyes straining under the pressure.
“Help me get these out,” he sputtered between heaving breaths, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He rolled over to lean his back against the vanity unit, hands falling into his lap as he worked to catch his breath.
“Let me see,” Ruffilo sighed cupping his chin with one hand to tilt it back into the light. He took care to wash his hands before he made any attempt to touch the massive black contacts that spanned the entirety of his friend’s eyes.
“Ow, fuck!” Noah shouted, causing his head to ache with his own volume. “Don’t use your nail, asshole!”
“Sorry dude,” his friend said, not an ounce of sympathy in his tone. “This shit’s hard to do. Hold still.”
With careful precision, Nick maneuvered the large disc around until he found purchase on it.  Pinching it between his thumb and forefinger,  he gently peeled  it out to reveal Noah’s bloodshot eyes.. After doing the same with the second, he tossed both in the trash, then stood to wash his hands once more. “Damn,” said Noah. “I liked those. I wanted to use them for more shows.”
“We’ll get you new ones,” said Nick. He grabbed an empty Solo cup on the sink counter, rinsing it out before filling it with cool tap water. He handed it to Noah before lowering himself to the ground, sighing as he leaned against the opposite wall. “Sip slowly, or you’ll throw up again.” Gingerly, Noah raised the cup to his lips.
Ruffilo was not easily affected by the actions of others. In fact, he had a calming disposition that set many at ease. But at that moment, Noah could feel his friend’s gaze burning a hole into him. He stared at the rim of his cup, the acrid feeling returning as he did everything to avoid looking at Nick.
“You okay, man?” The pity in his friend’s tone sat like a brick in Noah’s gut.“I’ve never seen you get that fucked up before. What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You can’t be doing that shit,” Nick said, crossing his arms over his chest and clicking his tongue against his teeth.. “Do you even know what you took?”
Noah paused for a moment. Scenes from the previous night flashed through his memory: the red lump on your cheekbone, the slight gasp that left your lungs when he parted your legs, the absence of your warmth after you left.
“No,” Noah rasped out, leaning his head back against the counter and closing his eyes.
“That’s not like you, man.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Come on,” he sighed, grabbing Noah under the arm to lift him off the floor. “Let’s get you home and in bed.”
“Thanks,” said Noah. He brought his hand up to comb his fingers through his hair and found the demon horns still on his head. A bitter taste coated his tongue and he ripped them off, chucking them in the trash.
It took a monumental effort for Noah to stagger the six blocks to his house. The sun was far too bright and the traffic was much too loud. Even with Ruffilo helping him, he struggled to keep his balance and had to pause halfway through to vomit into a set of bushes lining the street.
He didn't know when he fell asleep. One moment, he was collapsing onto his bed, and the next, he woke to the sound of something hitting his nightstand. On a tray sat a mug of coffee, scrambled eggs and toast, with two painkillers on a napkin. Ruffilo was already on his way out the door when Noah spoke.
“Thanks man,” He managed to mutter. “I owe you one.”
“This is done on the condition that we talk about it when you’re ready.”
Noah sighed, jaw clenching. “I know. Just not today.”
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Halfway through Noah’s day-long hangover nap, he was woken up by another knocking. This time, when he opened his eyes, he found none other than the drummer of his band looking like the cat that caught the canary.
Nick sidled past him, inviting himself into Noah’s room, tossing a wad of cash down onto Noah’s bed before turning to face him.
“Here you go, killer. You earned it.”
“What are you talking about?” Noah muttered, consciousness slowly growing clearer as he struggled to wake up. His head felt like it was in a vise.
“I saw you and the virgin Mary go into your studio last night. When she came back out, she looked absolutely wrecked,” he said, snickering to himself. He shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know how you did it, but damn. I never thought that chick would put out. Her friend was a pretty good consolation prize though, I have to say.”
Noah grabbed the wad of cash and threw it violently back at his friend.
“Whoa,” Nick said, head pulling back defensively. “What was that for?”
“Man, fuck off. I told you I wasn’t part of that.”
“You still won,” said Nick with a shrug. “I’m a man of my word. Should have tried a little harder with her last night, but her friend was practically beggin’ for it the whole time.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Noah was aware that he should exit this conversation. But in the moment, his stomach rolled with a heavy mixture of shame and anger that he couldn’t digest, so he spat it at Nick.
“You’re a fucking bottom feeder, man.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Nick bit back, unflinching as if he’d been waiting. “Don’t sit there on your high fuckin’ horse, acting like you’re better than everyone when you did the same thing to Tiffany, knowing how down bad she is for you. Grow a spine and reject the girl so she can move on.” 
Noah squeezed his eyes together and rubbed his temples.
He knew he’d run out of defenses, and hated that Nick was right, but his brain had only just started thawing out from the onslaught of chemicals he’d fed it, and the last thing he needed was a lecture.
“Man, just get out. I’m not in the mood, okay?”
“Clearly, since you’re fucking being a little bitch today.” His eyebrows and jaw were hard set, but when Noah finally locked on to his stare, Nick must have seen the defeat in his eyes, because he began to soften.
“Get some sleep, man. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Thanks.”
__________________
Normally, Noah didn’t mind his job at the factory too much. It was repetitive, which was boring, but also regulating. It allowed him to move on autopilot while he wrote music in his head.
Today though, as the remnants of his headache clung to his periphery - he was Sisyphus, and the lathe was his boulder.
Worse though, whatever he had taken at the party had dumped all the serotonin and dopamine from his system, and there was nothing left to get him through the day.
“This,” he muttered to himself, barely audible over the whirring of the machines surrounding him, “this is why I don’t do drugs.”
He’d known this would happen even before he took them, but at the time he didn’t care. He was focused on escaping from the reality of his situation. It worked for the night, until that reality came back with a vengeance.
His confidence was shaken. He’d been so sure that you wanted him in that moment. He’d have bet all the cash Nick had tried to throw at him that you wanted him. But when you were an inch away, just barely in his grasp, you shot him down and left. And here he was, tearing his hair out because he could not, for the life of him, figure out why.
Maybe you just couldn't accept his feelings about religion. Your beliefs were so important to you, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it was something you just couldn’t get past. Like you’d mentioned earlier that night, the whole evening was out of your comfort zone, you were overwhelmed by it all. Perhaps you just weren’t ready.
But maybe he was overthinking everything. Maybe inviting you into his world was a bad decision.
No God. No religion. 
Just bad, bad decisions. 
He scrawled the words into the margins of  the notebook used to write down measurements for whatever the fuck parts he had to check for inaccuracies. For the rest of the day, the words ran through his head over and over again like a mantra, following the rhythmic clunk of the factory machines. He fished the silver ring out of his pocket and fidgeted with it for the hundredth time since you left the studio. It barely fit past the first knuckle on his pinky finger, but every time he touched it, it felt a little easier to breathe.
______________
“So, I feel like I owe you an apology,” he said, taking a sip from his coffee. “Several apologies, actually.”
“Okay,” Tiffany said, sitting across from him at the small bistro table in the corner of the local coffee shop Noah frequented.
His stomach clenched. He’d been nervous for the last few days leading up to this conversation, but it was time for him to stop being a coward and settle the matter.
Tiffany was not an unattractive woman. She had long blonde hair that she wore in loose waves. She was on the thicker side, which Noah liked. He could see himself being attracted to her if their personalities meshed.
Tiffany’s fatal flaw was that she tried too hard. Noah preferred to do the chasing. And he probably wouldn’t have ended up chasing after her regardless, and so he understood that she felt the need to chase after him if she liked him, but he had no inkling of feelings for her.
“First, I wanted to apologize for last Saturday. I wasn’t in the best state of mind, and I shouldn’t have invited you upstairs.”
“Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her. “That became clear when you started doing vocal warmups mid-blowjob.”
Noah snorted into his coffee. He forgot about that.
“I’m sorry,” he said, unable to bite back his grin.
Her tough façade cracked into a smile. “No worries. In hindsight, it’s pretty funny.”
“Okay, so question then,” He shifted in his seat, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table. “If you knew I wasn’t sober, why did you continue?”
“I didn’t,” she said. “As soon as I realized you weren’t right, I stopped.”
Noah looked at her, taken aback. “You left?”
She nodded.
“You mean I didn’t…I could have swore…,” he trailed off.
“Don’t get me wrong. I was excited about the idea of hooking up with you, but not like that.”
Noah looked at Tiffany with a newfound respect. Perhaps he had misjudged her.
“Secondly,” he continued, “I wanted to apologize for never making my intentions clear. I feel like I led you on and allowed you to have hope because I was afraid of confrontation. That wasn’t cool of me. I should have told you from the beginning that I wasn’t interested.”
“Ouch,” she said, wincing slightly, “but thanks.”
He shook his head. “Why are you thanking me?”
“I don’t know,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table.. “You probably don’t deserve it, but honestly I’d rather you be straightforward with me so I can actually move on. It takes a lot of energy to walk away from something you want if you still think there might be a little hope. I probably would have wasted a lot of time.”
His stomach began to feel the weight of his actions. Tiffany’s only crime was not deciphering the vague signals he’d given her, and yet he’d treated her like a pariah, going so far as to badmouth her to his bandmates. And for what? Because she refused to give up hope until she received a solid answer?
He’d been an even bigger asshole than he’d realized.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”
Tiffany looked at Noah with a face that hinted at pity. Perhaps she saw the inner battle he was having with himself.
“Why did you take me upstairs?” she asked.
Noah felt like he owed her the truth. He didn’t have romantic feelings for Tiffany, but he did like her. And there was something about her that made him want to trust her. Perhaps it was how she’d prioritized his consent, despite her feelings for him. Or maybe the way she’d responded to him when he told her he wasn’t interested took the edge off his nervous system. He didn’t realize how much he enjoyed that feeling.
Noah launched into the story, telling Tiffany about how you’d met, your differences in beliefs, how you’d wound up at that party, what happened during the set, and how it had played out in the studio afterwards.
Once he finished his retelling, Tiffany narrowed her eyes at him.
“Do you always react so poorly when you get rejected?”
“What do you mean?” asked Noah.
“Like, after a girl rejects you, do you binge drink and take unknown drugs and hook up with other people? Is that how you handle it every time?”
Noah shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Wait. Is this your first time being rejected?” she asked in disbelief.
He took another sip of his coffee, ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth, and then gave the tiniest of nods.
Without hesitation, Tiffany burst out laughing.
“I’m so sorry,” she rushed to clarify, holding her hands in front of her as if to pause the conversation. “This is so inappropriate and I shouldn’t be laughing. Forgive me.”
She didn’t stop laughing despite her apology.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll wait,” Noah said, snark creeping into his voice.
“This feels really great to hear, honestly. I know it sucks for you, but I’m absolutely loving it.”
“Can you not rub it in my face, please?” he asked.
Tiffany did her best to calm her laughter and then smiled genuinely across the table at him.
“Noah, being rejected is not the worst thing that can happen. Trust me. I’ve been rejected many times. It builds character and toughens you up. Plus, I think your ego could use it. You’re totally full of yourself.”
“How so?” he said.
“Oh, I don’t know. Didn’t you say you were going to fight god a few weekends ago during your set?”
Noah chewed on his lip. “That was performative.”
“It comes from somewhere.”
“Not necessarily true.”
“Noah, come on,” she said, fixing him with an imploring stare. “Be for real right now. You got rejected one time and you completely lost your shit. Total self-sabotage. Do you know how many girls you’ve rejected? A lot. And we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and keep fighting the good fight, because shit happens.”
Noah, mid-humbling, stayed quiet and let her continue. As uncomfortable as it was to acknowledge his shortcomings, it was also refreshing to hear. He’d never experienced a lecture from a loving mother, but he imagined this was what it felt like.
“Plus,” Tiffany continued, “it sounds like she didn’t even reject you. She just wasn’t ready to fuck you in that moment. And why would she? Considering how you’d treated her.”
“How did I treat her?” he asked. He thought he’d been kind. Certainly more attentive than he’d been to other women in his life.
“I mean, do you even like her?”
“Of course!”
“Really? Because it doesn’t sound like it. You sent her into a mosh pit totally unprepared and let her get hit in the face.”
Noah winced. He did do that. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to mention it to you.
“You didn’t warn her about the content of your music and allowed yourself to get peer-pressured into playing a song that deliberately shits on everything important to her,” she continued. “And what? You’re surprised she doesn’t want to give up her virginity after a month of knowing you?”
Noah had to sit back after what felt like a massive blow to the center of his chest.
“I put more effort in with her than I have with anyone else,” he said, feebly trying to defend himself, though he knew he had no defense to stand on.
“Are you honestly telling me that was the best you could do?”
Noah didn’t answer, reluctant to say the words out loud, and Tiffany sighed. 
“Look. If you really like the girl, go earn her.”
Noah fidgeted with the sleeve on the paper to-go cup. The concept of earning someone’s affection was new to him. He’d always been on the receiving end.
“How do I do that?”
Tiffany blinked back at him. “I mean, it’s not really my job to figure that out for you. I’m already giving you more emotional labor than I owe. But if you’re asking me, I’d start by figuring out why her faith is so important to her, rather than focusing on how you can get her to abandon it so you can sleep with her.”
“Ouch. I mean you’re right, but do you have to be so mean about it?”
“Trust me Noah, I’m doing you a kindness.”
He exhaled heavily through his nostrils, realizing that the magic pill to fix his problems was indeed, the toughest to swallow.
“Thank you,” he said, meeting her eyes again. “I appreciate you saying this to me.”
Tiffany nodded. “You’re welcome.”
“Can we be friends?” he asked. He meant it. Tiffany was clearly a positive influence in his life, and even if he didn’t want to be with her romantically, he still wanted her around in some way.
“No,” she said flatly. Noah’s face fell. “At least… not right now. This conversation helped, but I still need to lick my wounds. It isn’t fun being rejected, after all.”
“You can say that again,” he said.
“We can be friendly, though. I’ll still come to your shows because despite all your shortcomings, I unfortunately like your music.”
He chuckled, finding Tiffany’s candor refreshing. “You’re really enjoying the opportunity to insult me, aren’t you?”
“I really am,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. He saw a glimpse of the beauty he’d been so focused on in his drug-induced state. She truly was prettier than he’d given her credit for.
“I hope you find someone better than me,” he said. “I want you to be happy. You deserve a good guy.”
“Thank you,” she said, softer than before and he could tell she believed him.
Noah paid for both their coffees. It was the least he could do. They parted with a warm handshake that Noah had the urge to turn into a hug, but he could tell from her body language she wouldn’t want it.
For the first time since the party, he felt a little lighter in his chest. He fished around in his pocket for the silver ring, hooking it onto his pinky finger and rubbing his thumb along the “true love waits” inscription he’d memorized earlier. __________
Waking up on Sunday was an ordeal. You hadn’t even been drinking, but it still felt as if you’d had a stimulation hangover. Your ears rang from all the noise, and there was a deep pressure behind your eyes from all the crying you’d done.
You wiped away the crust from your eyelids and were immediately met with tenderness at your temple.
Oh, yeah. You’d been elbowed in the face last night.
Crawling down from your bed, you made your way over to the mirror above your desk to see just how bad it was. An ugly, angry red lump with purpled edges glared back at you.
The rest of your face hadn’t fared much better. Your makeup was smudged all around your eyes and your lipstick smeared down your chin.
You’d slept in your clothes, having been too exhausted to change into anything else when you got back around at around two in the morning.
The alarm on your phone rang, signaling it was time to get ready for church.
You sank down into your desk chair, having no motivation for anything.
You never skipped church unless you were sick. One of the things you prided yourself most on was your regular attendance. Plus, church was where you did all your socializing. All of your friends went. It wasn’t just church you liked, it was going out to lunch afterwards with everyone. It was treating yourself to a luxurious coffee drink beforehand. It was dressing up in your favorite outfits and performing on stage. And it was the satisfaction of knowing God was pleased with you.
Was God still pleased with you?
You stared at the lump on your head.
You’d resisted temptation. That didn’t count for nothing. You’d also allowed the situation to go much further than you should have, but you still listened to your gut when it told you to get out of there. That was enough of a success in your book.
Your thoughts drifted to Noah.
He’d been so forward last night, truly put himself out there, and had looked so dejected when you’d pulled away. But then again, hadn’t he said a few weeks ago that it was important to risk rejection? He seemed aware of what the stakes were.
You didn’t know exactly why you pulled away at that moment. Something told you it wasn’t the right time, but part of you worried that you wouldn’t get another opportunity like the one you’d had, and that perhaps you ruined your chances with him.
Maybe you did? Was that the worst thing?
Perhaps this was God’s way of telling you that Noah was not the right person for you. And if that was the case, you would need to get over the idea of him so you could continue to interact with him at community service without getting hurt.
You kicked your foot up on the desk in front of you and leaned your chair back, staring up at the ceiling and trying to find the central point of balance.
It was 10:30. If you were going to make it to church, you’d have to get up now and start getting ready. You’d have to leave no later than 10:45 to make it to the 11:00 service on time.
You continued to balance on the back legs of your chair, seeing if you could get it to balance on its own for five seconds.
10:45 came and went, and you did not leave your chair. You couldn’t make it to five seconds without it tipping, but you made it to four and a half before you gave up and went back to bed.
__________
You were awoken by a rapt knocking at your door. It definitely wasn’t your roommate, Stevie. She went home every weekend and didn’t come back until late in the evening.
You rolled out of bed and looked at the clock - 1:00 PM. Yawning off the remaining sleep, you opened the door. The first thing your eyes landed on was the white, deep v-neck that gave a peek to a tanned chest.
“Isaac? What are you doing here?” you asked. Isaac had walked you to your dorm before on nights when practice ended late and he insisted it was inappropriate to allow you to walk home alone, but he had never visited you before.
“I wanted to check on you. Can I come in?” he asked.
“Sure,” you said, hesitantly moving aside to let him through. Once inside, he leaned against your desk, crossing his arms as he observed you.
“So…,” you trailed off, sitting on your bed cross-legged.
“You weren’t in church today.” It was not an observation, but an accusation, and it immediately set your nerves on guard.
“Yeah,” you said, keeping your tone even. “I didn’t feel great.”
“Are you hungover?”
“No. I didn’t drink.”
He fixed you with a stare that let you know he didn’t believe you. You met his eyes, unwilling to back down.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged, likely figuring he wouldn’t get more out of you.
“Do you know where Ava is?” he asked. “She didn’t come either.”
“She didn’t?” This was news to you. You’d looked for her briefly after you’d left but had been unsuccessful in finding her and assumed she’d gone home.
“What happened last night? You look like you’ve been through it.” He stepped closer, eyes scanning up and down your face.
Instinctively, your hand went up to touch the bruise and Isaac’s eyes narrowed.
“It was just a mosh pit,” you said.
“Yeah?” he asked, tone laced with suspicion. “Is that why your purity ring is gone?”
You checked your hand to see it was, indeed, gone. Left in Noah’s back pocket. You sighed and tipped over sideways onto the bed.
“I lost it. But not like that,” you said.
“Sure,” he said, absolutely not believing you. You’d never been seen without the ring, and it was unlikely that it slipped off.
“I didn’t do anything,” you said.
“What is ‘anything’ to you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Okay, look. I don’t owe you this information and it is in no way your job to make sure I’m pure, but I didn’t even kiss anyone last night. I seriously just lost the ring.”
Isaac’s eyebrow lifted up and he pursed his lips, staring you down to see if he could detect any signs of falsehood and when he found none, he deflated.
“Alright,” he said. “But in the future, could you not stay out so late? It was hard to carry the praise and worship service without you and Ava.”
“Sorry,” you said. “I’ll be there next week.”
“Promise?” he asked.
“Promise.”
“So how was the party?” he asked.
“Honestly?” you asked. He nodded. “Not great. Definitely not my scene. I got full-on elbowed in the face. Plus, everyone there was drunk and I couldn’t relate to anyone.”
You could tell Isaac was enjoying hearing your confession, the look in his eye now sporting a condescending glint. But, to his credit, he refrained from giving you any sort of ‘I told you so’ kind of lecture. After a beat of silence though, he started to chuckle at your misfortune.
“Does this feel good to hear?” you asked. He smiled in return and it was genuine.
Isaac wasn’t terrible. He seemed to truly care about you, and though he could be intrusive and overbearing at times, his heart was in the right place.
“Alright. I think I’m gonna let you get some more sleep,” he said after several minutes of catching up, tapping a knuckle on your desk to punctuate his visit. “I’d like to meet sometime this week to go over this Christmas showcase. Thursday night good for you?”
You nodded. “Thanks Isaac.”
You puffed out a mouthful of air as soon as you heard the door close, feeling like you’d just been the subject of an interrogation. It was clear now that your actions were being watched. Anything out-of-character could easily be reported back to your father, and while Isaac let you off the hook easily this time, you couldn’t be so sure he would continue if your behavior turned into a pattern.
You’d have to tread much more carefully if you wanted to fly under the radar.
_______________
The week passed quickly. Ava hadn’t returned any of your texts and you grew worried, but figured she would talk to you whenever she was ready. You wondered if something had happened at the party. Was she upset with you? Was she avoiding you?
Thursday’s meeting went well enough. Isaac had a lot of good ideas about the songs he wanted to perform and how to get the word out about it. The two of you worked closely together and you were starting to wonder if perhaps you’d judged Isaac too harshly for his actions the other week.
It was possible that Noah was just a distraction after all. Someone that helped you shake some of your delusions about Isaac so you could see him as an actual person instead of putting him on such a pedestal—because now that you interacted with each other as equals, he wasn’t all that bad. He was actually easy to get along with.
He didn’t give you that warm pooling sensation in your lower abdomen that Noah gave you, but connecting with him was enjoyable. You could see yourself working well as partners together.
“So you’re going to have to take the solo for Mary Did You Know, as well as O Holy Night,” he said. “You’re our top soprano.”
“Got it,” you said with a curt nod. “Are you going to do O Come O Come Emmanuel?”
“You know it,” he said, grinning proudly. His voice had a great timbre for that one and he knew it.
“Is Ava going to be participating?” you asked.
Isaac sighed. “I haven’t been able to get ahold of her.”
“Me either. I’m starting to get concerned.”
“If she doesn’t show up at church again on Sunday, maybe we should visit her,” he suggested.
“I think that would make me feel better,” you agreed.
As it turned out, however, you didn’t have to wait for Sunday. Ava was waiting outside your dorm when you got back from your meeting with Isaac.
“Hey,” she said, sitting with her knees curled up in front of her. She wore baggy sweatpants and an oversize hoodie.
“Hey,” you said. “Stevie’s home. If you want to talk privately, we should probably go for a walk or something.”
Nodding, she stood up.
You had walked out your dorm hall and halfway down the block before she got the nerve to speak.
“Sorry for being MIA,” she said, hands pushed deep in the pockets of her hoodie.
“Everything okay?” you asked.
“I think,” she replied. “I just needed some time to sort my feelings out.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. She nodded.
“What happened on Saturday? I couldn’t find you anywhere.” You tried to keep any judgment out of your tone.
“I had more to drink than I meant to,” she began. “I didn’t know my tolerance.”
“That’s an easy mistake to make, especially for your first time drinking,” you said.
“Yeah, but that’s not all that happened.”
The two of you had reached the edge of campus. A left turn would lead you past the party house. A right turn would lead you to the church grounds.
You let Ava take the lead, patiently waiting while she weighed her options.
She turned left. You nodded and continued walking with her.
“I want you to know that I don’t regret any of my decisions,” she prefaced. “I just had some complicated feelings about it.”
“Of course,” you said.
“Nick and I hooked up on Saturday night.”
Your footsteps faltered, but you recovered quickly. “How far did you go?”
“We had sex.”
Your breath caught in your throat and you stopped walking. “What?!” Your voice came out as a shout. 
Ava inhaled slowly through her nostrils, nervously looking around. “I need you to make less of a deal about it than you’re making right now.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, tone hushed as you leaned closer to her. “But that’s a whole consent issue. If you’d been drinking…,” you trailed off.
“I was drunk when we were making out,” she said, “but I had sobered up by the time we went back to his place.” 
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes.” She confirmed, with an earnest look in her eye.
“Okay,” you said, calming down a bit. You’d been about to find Nick and strangle him. “So you really don’t regret it?”
“I don’t,” she said. “But… I feel awful about not regretting it. I feel like I should, like it makes me a bad person for not. Like, we were always told that if we made a mistake like this, we’d feel terrible about it. And I don’t feel terrible. I liked it, even. And I want to do it again, if I can.”
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say. Growing up, you and Ava had always been on the same page about sex, frequently discussing what it might be like on your wedding night. Ava had always been a bit on the wild side, but you had no idea her opinions had changed quite this much.
“But I feel like I’m not allowed to feel this way and continue being involved in the church.”
You understood where she was coming from. Even after you and Noah barely touched each other, you felt weird about going to church the next morning. It was actually quite refreshing to hear that you weren’t alone in questioning the validity of your chastity pledge. You thought you were alone in that.
“Honestly, I don’t blame you,” you confessed. “It feels like there’s an expectation there that if you attend, you have to feel the way they think you should feel. Like if you have sex or something like that, and don’t immediately regret it afterwards, you’re not good enough.”
“Right? Yes!” she said, more lively than you’d seen her all evening. “And I just feel so disconnected with that message.”
“You’re not wrong for feeling the way you feel,” you reassured. “Honestly, I’m also learning that faith is a lot more complicated than they’d have you believe. Noah might be a good person to talk to about it.”
“You mean Nick’s friend?”
“Yeah. He’s helped me see a lot of blind spots that I’d had before regarding religion and sexuality.”
“Did you guys…?”
You shook your head. “No. But we’ve been talking a lot about some of the problems in the church, especially around sexuality. How did you feel immediately afterwards?”
“Well, I went to the bathroom and cried about it, because I initially was hit with a lot of guilt. But after I processed that, I felt kind of happy? Like I was finally living the life I wanted to live for once.”
“I’m glad you got that experience,” you admitted. “I’m sorry that you felt so guilty.”
“To be honest, I thought you would handle this information way worse.”
You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah, I’ve been pretty closed-minded.”
“I think we all started that way.”
“I’m glad you told me,” you said. “I was really worried about you.”
“I’m sorry it took so long,” she admitted. “I was afraid of what you’d think. You’re one of the most important people in my life. I didn’t want you to hate me. And I didn’t want to have to pretend to feel guilty about it to you, or lie about the fact that it even happened.”
You paused the walk to look at her. “I know I haven’t always been the most accepting person. I’m working on that. But I could never hate you. Ever.”
Ava looked back, eyes glassy. The two of you embraced in a lingering hug, of which the significance was not lost on either of you.
When you pulled back, you realized you weren’t too far away from the party house. It was Ava that continued walking towards it.
As the two of you approached, you heard music blasting from the house. You were one or two houses away when you heard Noah’s singing voice.
“I think they’re having band practice,” you said, and sure enough, when you got to the front of the house, you could see inside the basement windows. The light was on and the band members faced away from you. All of them played with intensity—though less intensity than they had done the previous Saturday, when they had the crowd’s energy to feed on.
Noah wore a cutoff black shirt and you could see that his tattoos extended across his back—what looked like flowers on each shoulder and vines connecting them. You couldn’t see anything else, but it piqued your curiosity.
At some point, someone in the band made a mistake and they stopped the song halfway through. Noah turned around to face the drummer and you only had just enough time to dash out of sight before you caught his eyes flick up to the window, squint, and then redirect to the guitarist.
“So how was it?” you asked Ava, resuming your walk.
“Honestly?” she began. “It was incredible. Like, definitely awkward, but also one of the coolest experiences of my life.”
“What happened?”
Ava launched into a (very detailed) retelling of how Nick made sure she was coherent and could give enthusiastic consent, and then how he didn’t judge her for how new she was. He walked her through it every step of the way, made sure she had a great time, and even allowed her to crash at his place afterwards, going as far as to cook her breakfast the next morning.
“He wasn’t the best cook, mind you,” she said. “But the gesture was very sweet.”
“Huh,” you said. “I might like Nick a little more now.”
“That’s their house, by the way,” she said, pointing across the street to a tan single-story home with an unkempt front porch and an overgrown lawn. Beer bottles littered the side of the porch. You could see the blinds were broken in some areas. And yet, you couldn’t help the warmth and affection from growing in the pit of your stomach imagining all the good times that had been shared between the men that lived here.
It was evident from the way they interacted with each other at the party that all of the band members were close with one another. For a moment, you had felt welcomed into that world. At least until you had a panic attack.
“Want to turn around?” you asked.
“Sure,” she agreed.
“So what do you think of their music?”
Ava laughed out loud. “I appreciate Nick’s passion, but I don’t think I ever want to be in a crowd like that again.”
“Same,” you agreed, linking your arm with Ava’s.
This time, when you passed the party house, the lights were off. For a brief second, you wondered what Noah was doing, but then brushed the thought away easily, because it didn’t really matter. You were more than happy simply spending quality time with Ava. Taglist: @reyadawn @sundamariis @noahsebastions @cyber-tiny @livingdeceasedgirl @just-randomm-stuff @xxkittenkissesxx @treacheryinblue @flowerynerds @1toreyouapart @badomensls
Comment "tag me" below if you want to join. As always, I would love to hear your feedback! I eat it up, so pls feed me.
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genericpuff · 16 hours
Note
Rachel did a live Q&A in the LO Discord server and gave some news about the Animated Series, it’s still happening! (Surprisingly) Any thoughts on that or things you’d like to see from it?
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Right, like every other time she's said it's "still happening" with no evidence to actually support it. That's always been the issue and still is.
Sorry, that's not me being snarky at you, I'm more so frustrated and absolutely fucking done with all the empty promises and platitudes.
Best case scenario with what was said during the Q&A was that she said "it's still happening" (worst case was that she didn't address it at all).
Like, how is this:
"I can say that… we are currently doing work on it… and it is going well.. and that it looks really cool and that I wish everyone could see what we’ve done because it looks really really really cool, and it’s happening, but that’s all I can say at this point… I can say, making tv shows takes a really long time, it takes so long" (last night's Q&A)
Any different than this:
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Any different than this:
“Um, it’s been really interesting. It’s been educational for me. So, what I—what has been done so far is beautiful. Like, if I could share it, I would. But I can’t. Because it’s very naughty.” - Girl Wonder SDCC (July 2023)
She's been saying this for the last two years since people started getting suspicious it wasn't happening in the first place, and despite all the reassurances that "it's still happening", it doesn't seem to have anything to show for itself. Cast list? Nope. Director? Nope. Writers? Nah. Just a showrunner whose bio still says "TBA" and who, despite having a whole ass 40 minute long interview with Girl Wonder, still didn't have anything to show for what's to come, just more empty promises that it's "still happening" (and a lot of banter about Stephanie's life, rather than her involvement with LO).
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In fact, most of what Stephanie talks about in the podcast concerning LO is pitching it, not developing it. And this interview happened just a few months ago. Go listen to it yourself if you don't believe me.
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So at this point, I see "it's still happening" as "don't panic" corporate speak for "we're still pitching it and trying to find a network for it so we can actually move onto development." Yes, animation takes a long time, even Hazbin Hotel took about three and a half years to finally release after Prime bought the rights to it in 2020. But LO, again, clearly hasn't even started the animation process yet. And while we're comparing it to Hazbin, note that HH actually had LOADS to show for itself along the way of being developed and did a much, MUCH better job at staying relevant and pulling in new people and hyping it up. Even people who never watched Hazbin before in its indie days on Youtube were hearing about it, it made an active effort to sell itself to new viewers and break out of its bubble on Youtube. Is LO doing that? No, not really. Most of the people who know about it are diehard fans who refuse to read anything that isn't shown directly to them on Webtoons, and diehard haters who are tired of the garbage that gets advertised on Webtoons. Ask anyone who doesn't use Webtoons, and best case, they'll know someone who reads LO, worst case, they won't even know what a webtoon is.
Shit, even the new upcoming Zelda movie has names attached to it, including Avi Arad, Wes Ball, and Derek Connolly. And my god, it's gonna SUCK DICK with that bad of a line-up (the guy who ruined the OG Spiderman trilogy and created Morbius, the guy who directed the Maze Runner films, and one of the leading storywriters behind Rise of Skywalker, fucking YIKES) but hey, at least it has more than one name attached to it.
But okay, if we're gonna play the comparison game, let's be fair and compare LO to some other works in its own lane. Let's Play announced last year that it would be getting an animated adaption, and it already has a studio backing it that is FAR more suited for it than JHC is to LO - OLM, the same studio whose animated for massive franchises like Pokemon, Yo-Kai, and Gudetama. JHC meanwhile has animated... motion capture kid shows like Word Party. Because that's the only kind of animation they actually specialize in when it comes to their in-house services. Sure, they also have Harriet the Spy, but that wasn't animated by them, that was animated by Titmouse Inc (heh sorry).
I'm the Grim Reaper recently had its own animated adaption announced, and who's in charge of it? Oh, only SAM FUCKING RAIMI-
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And look, maybe the Let's Play and I'm the Grim Reaper adaptions won't happen either. I just think it's ironic that they both have more to show for themselves in terms of credible names attached to them than what LO has managed to scrape up after five years of promising that it's "still happening" (especially when one of those series is nowhere near as big as LO and the one that WAS as big as LO walked away from Webtoons entirely). For Webtoons' own "worldwide phenomenon", they sure have given LO the shit end of the stick by pairing it with a family-with-kids-under-10 production studio that doesn't specialize in animation and a showrunner who got her start with the Cosmopolitan (weird how LO has so many plugs with Cosmo, huh? Why is JHC producing the show again?)
At the end of the day, nothing's changed. It's still just the ole' "it's still happening" record on a loop, while the comic itself falls further out of favor with people. And it's likely gonna be going behind DailyPass soon, so just think about what that's gonna do to its relevancy after it gets sent away to the equivalent of the Webtoons graveyard.
As I've said countless times before every time this topic comes up, at best, if it is still happening, and I'm wrong about all of this, they are doing the worst job I've ever seen at hyping people up and keeping them informed. It is NOT a good thing that people have to keep asking Rachel if it's still happening.
As for worst case... you wanna know what other projects come to my mind that have fallen into the same state of development hell and decay as LO's TV show? YandereSim and Cryamore. What do you think the popular opinion is about those works and their creators now? Because if you don't know either of those names and are about to google them, let me give you a heads up warning - it's not positive.
If it happens, it happens. It will hopefully be before I get all the therapy I need to undo what LO has done to my brain so that I don't have to make repeat visits LOL But if it's after, hey, maybe the show will be good! Assuming Rachel doesn't, y'know, E.L. James the whole thing. Because frankly, the show will need to cut and rework a LOT of stuff to be any good IMO and I don't think that will be possible if Rachel gets directly involved. But I'm not even hoping for that scenario because there's literally NOTHING to give me that hope, "it's still happening" is nothing more than "don't panic" corporate speak to me at this point. It's cynical, but I just can't waste my energy caring about it anymore.
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happy74827 · 2 days
Text
Fate’s Design
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[Carlisle Cullen x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Not even fate can stop forbidden love. {GIF Credits: Pinterest}
WC: 2051
Category: Angst (with a side of fluff)
Can you tell I rewatched Twilight? 👀 Edward? Jacob? Nah, I’m team Carlisle all the way.
In all seriousness, this took me so long to write out since I’m in that stage of life where there’s no free time 😭
But, regardless, here’s a fic that no one asked for (and hopefully won’t mind 👀). So, uh… enjoy :)
『••✎••』
Funny, how the world works, how fate works.
The day you had first laid eyes on him, you could tell immediately there was something different about him, something... strange. Stranger than strange.
A simple hospital visit, a clumsy fall down the stairs, and here you were, stuck in a place of healing with the smell of antiseptics and disinfectant all around you. For a simple wrist sprang, being around deathly ill people who had no sense of common courtesy was the last thing you wanted to experience.
Still, it couldn't be helped, and so you endured. Endured until that one fateful encounter.
When the nurses brought him into the room, you couldn't help but stare. A young, handsome man who looked barely a few years older than you, pale, cold skin that reminded you of the snowy tundras, and bright eyes you swore turned gold in the light.
Strange, yes. Very strange. But a very good kind of strange, the kind of strange that was captivating.
Carlisle Cullen.
You couldn't help but smile as you thought of the name, as the memories came back to you. The first meeting, the second, and then the third. You remembered all of them, every single one, and the way your heart fluttered like a caged bird each time, wanting to break free.
How long had it been since that first meeting? Five months? Six?
You couldn't be sure, but it was enough.
Enough for you to know that you loved him.
How funny, how ironic, how cruel fate was, giving you someone to love and then making it impossible to be with him.
You were just an average girl with average interests and average talents who had a boring, average job that didn't pay much and was living an average life.
But you were human; he was not.
You were a creature that could live, grow, age, and eventually die while he was frozen in time, a beautiful, timeless statue with an old soul that lived a hundred years in the span of one.
You knew this, he knew this, and that was what held you both back.
Even though you loved him, even though when he looked at you, his eyes burned with the same emotions you felt, the two of you were still unable to come together.
You would’ve given up had it not been for your own stubbornness, your own will to hold on, to see this through to the end.
He was worth it, and you knew it.
And so, you decided it didn’t matter if your time with him would be short because you would spend it happily, without regret.
After all, a few months spent with him was better than none at all.
You found yourself storming into the hospital, pure determination set on your face as you went up to the reception desk and demanded to know where Carlisle Cullen was.
The nurse gave you an odd look but didn’t question you further, and after giving her the information she needed, she directed you to his office.
You were assured he was filing papers, so you didn’t bother with knocking. Instead, you barged in with the burning desire to make your mark, to make your presence known, to show him, without any doubt, how you felt.
You didn't care if he was startled by your sudden entrance, and as you approached him, he stood up, surprise written on his face.
"I’m done, Carlisle," you said, your tone final, a declaration. "I’m so done."
He tilted his head in confusion.
Your hands came to a fist as you rested them against his desk, eyes narrowed and burning.
"I'm done holding back," you said, voice steady. "If you don’t kiss me right now, I'll never forgive you."
Your name came out as a soft sigh from his lips, and you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through you at the sound of it. The mellow, gentle tone that held your entire being was always catching you off guard, even after all this time.
It wasn’t fair; it really wasn't.
"Kiss me, goddamnit!" You yelled at him, the demand clear in your tone.
And, like always, he denied you. In fact, he practically told you to shut up in his own way by bringing attention that you were still… quite literally, in the hospital.
You didn’t care. It was obvious by the way you kept going at him, demanding he take action.
And then, a gush of wind.
Your eyes widened, and before you could utter a word, the door from behind slammed shut. Not enough to create a loud bang, but enough to get your attention, and when you looked over, his arm was extended out, hand resting on the door.
Just inches away from your head.
Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up at him.
He was towering over you completely, and the proximity made your breathing hitch. His gaze was intense and golden, and it burned right through you like it always did. But you weren’t scared, not even the slightest bit.
This was what you wanted, after all.
So you kept silent and waited for him to make the first move. Any move, really.
A few seconds passed, and then, ever so slowly, he lowered his head. But he didn't lean down far enough, no. Instead, his face inched closer and closer to yours until, finally, all you could see were his eyes.
And all you could think about was his lips.
"As much as I want to," he began, voice soft and smooth. "You and I both know it's not that easy."
"Yes, it is," you retorted, stubborn. "You're just making it hard."
"I'm being realistic."
"Realistic? Really?" Your face twisted into a scowl. "Says the man who's not even human."
"That's precisely why," he said. "You’re…"
His voice quivered, just slight enough to be noticeable. It made your heart ache, and you were ready to interrupt him, to say that it didn’t matter; nothing else did.
But you stopped yourself.
It was only right to hear what he had to say.
"You truly wish to want… this? To give up the happiness of your future, the family you deserve, to be drowned in sorrow, all for me?"
His words were sincere, his voice quiet, and the expression on his face was one you could barely comprehend.
"Drowned…? Drowned?!" You echoed his words; brows knitted in a deep frown. "Carlisle, I'm already drowning! Right now!"
You paused, trying to calm yourself, but you could feel tears prickling your eyes. This wasn’t how you had imagined it going.
"It hurts," you confessed, voice low. "It hurts me that you don’t understand, that you think so little of yourself."
Carlisle's breath caught, and his lips parted in surprise, but you weren’t finished yet.
"It hurts me that you think I could ever be happy without you," you continued, your voice rising a bit. “Carlisle, I have found happiness in you. I am happy with you. The day we met, I was a wreck; my wrist was a wreck… everything was a wreck. But then you came, and now, now I'm happy. You make me happy."
The look on his face was unreadable, but it didn’t deter you from speaking your mind.
"Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see that you’ll always be twice the man than any other human being out there?"
Silence.
He didn’t answer, and the longer the silence stretched, the more your heart hurt. Carlisle was a good man; he was. He was a good doctor, a good father, and, of course, a good-looking guy.
He deserved the world.
And if the world couldn't give it to him, you would.
"If you can't see it, then fine," you finally spoke, and it was almost a whisper. "Then I'll do it for you. I'll tell you every day. I'll keep telling you until it sticks."
The corners of your mouth tugged upwards into a shaky smile.
"Even if I have to keep yelling at you."
He exhaled, and suddenly, he looked much more relaxed, and you realized that you had gotten through to him.
It made the tears that were gathering in your eyes spill over.
"At least I know you wouldn’t toss me aside when my personality eventually overpowers my looks," you mumbled, laughing.
"Toss you aside?"
There was a sudden, sharp edge to his tone, and when his hand came to rest under your chin, gently, carefully, your eyes shot up, staring into his own.
You didn't realize it, but the way you looked at him, the expression on your face, it made him see something different, something he never expected.
A woman who loved him. Truly, sincerely, deeply, and completely.
He couldn’t believe it, and yet, you were right there, in front of him, your eyes shining and reflecting nothing but adoration and admiration.
Your eyes were shining, but not with sadness, no, not anymore.
It was a beautiful sight, one he would remember for all of eternity.
"I'd be a fool to do that," he whispered, his tone sincere, and when his other hand came up, his fingers brushing over your cheek, a featherlight touch, he could hear your breath catch.
"A complete and utter fool."
You watched the smile grow on his lips, and it was so beautiful, it was unreal.
But this, the feeling of his hand on your skin, the coldness contrasted by the warmth of your own body, the gentleness of his touch, it was surreal.
"Carlisle," you murmured, and he was still staring at you, but there was a new intensity in his gaze. "Let me give you the happiness you deserve. Let me."
You took a small step forward, and his hand was still resting under your chin. You didn't dare move or speak again, not until you could read his face, the expression on his features.
It was difficult, however, and just when you thought he wouldn't say anything, he spoke.
"I can't guarantee the future or the happiness," he admitted. "Not for myself, and not for you, but-"
"But?" You couldn’t help but smirk.
"I can try," he answered. "For your sake, I'll try."
You should’ve expected the response after that, the speed at which his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you forward, and his other hand, moving downwards to rest on the small of your back.
You should've, but you didn't.
All you could do was stare at him, your eyes widening, and just when you opened your mouth to speak, to say something, anything, his lips were on yours, and all the coherent thoughts left you.
You could hear the thumping of your heart, loud, thundering, and it drowned out all the other sounds around you.
He was gentle and careful, and the kiss was nothing more than a brief, feather-light press of his lips, but it was enough. It was enough to set your whole body on fire, to have you lean in, to have your hands come up, grasping onto his lab coat for dear life.
You could feel the coldness of his skin, but the taste of his lips was indescribable.
He tasted sweet, like vanilla, and the longer his lips were on yours, the more the flavor lingered until you couldn’t remember how your own lips had ever tasted.
When he finally pulled away, it was as if the world was spinning and all the strength left your body.
"We're not in the clear just yet," he murmured, his gaze still intense, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "There are many things we have to talk about and many things to work out, but-"
"Carlisle," you breathed out, your grip on his coat tightening. "Don’t talk. Just relish."
You leaned forward, and he did the same, his eyes fluttering shut, and as your lips connected with his, your mind was filled with a single thought.
This.
This was right.
It was perfect, and the world was a better place.
The funny thing about fate is that if two people are meant to be, no matter the time, the place, or the circumstances, they'll find each other.
The two of you were living proof.
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a-killer-obsession · 23 hours
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Shared Smiles [Heat x Reader]
🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞
Despite being forced on board against your will, you find yourself connecting with a commander, and finding solace in your shared traumas.
CW: wounds, off-screen amputation, loss of limb, comfort, trauma, mentions of mutilation, fingering, p in v sex, afab reader
WC: ~6k
Masterlist || AO3
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The chains holding you creaked slightly as you swung back and forth, blood running down over your face and dripping to the floor below you as you hung upside down. Your ankles were bound together in metal cuffs, your hands tied to your torso with chains, and your body bare save for your panties and the many fresh wounds that littered your body. Two Supernovas of the Worst Generation stood in front of you, Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid and his first mate, Massacre Soldier Killer. The captain pressed his boot against your face again, letting back off and making your body swing, the ankle cuffs digging into your skin at the added pressure the movement created.
“Last chance,” the redheaded captain gloated, kneeling and grabbing a handful of your hair to force you to look at him. You could barely keep eye contact, not out of fear but, because you'd been upside down for so long that you were nearly unconscious. “I don't usually give out mercies like this, but your skills are useful to me, and my girls enjoyed your company before you fucked up”
Said fuck up was simply rejecting the large man of his sexual advances. You'd met some of his crew, a couple of girls named Hip, Hop, Quincy, Emma and Dive, at a bar nearby. You'd seen a lot on your travels as a for-hire mercenary, but female pirates were not common on the Grandline. They'd made you laugh, a rarity for you, and hadn't judged your unusual mask that hid your mouth and the end of your nose. Of course they hadn't, they were used to a first mate who covered the entirety of his face in white and blue stripes. They didn't even ask questions about it, which was a breath of fresh air for you, only commenting on how cool the sculpting that decorated it was - a relief of a open lion's jaw, with large, sharp teeth and a lolling tongue, trimmed by a nose and cheeks curled mid roar. The whole mask gave you the appearance of having a lion's snout, and along with the clawed gloves you wore during combat, was the guiding force for the moniker the marines had given you: ‘The Lioness, [Y/N]’.
Now, had your rejection perhaps been a little harsh? Maybe, by normal standards. A large, attractive man with such infamy as him was probably not rejected often, let alone with such sass. You knew you had a knack for being too brutally truthful, never filtering your words or pulling your verbal punches. It'd gotten you in trouble on more than one occasion, but you were a talented fighter, fast and agile, you didn't usually get caught in situations like this. When the Massacre Soldier snuck up on you in the alley outside though, you found you were no match for him, he had such a high bounty for a reason.
“How bout it little kitty?” Kid purred in faux sweetness, bringing you back to reality, blinking as you fought the pull of unconsciousness. “You can join my crew, or you can stay here and get tortured till you die. This is the last time I'll ask”
Did you want to be a pirate? No, you liked running solo, you liked having the freedom to go wherever you wanted and take whatever jobs were convenient. Having your life dictated by someone else was the last thing you wanted, and being around the same people every day would make it hard to avoid forming attachments. You had sworn to never get close to others again, after your last relationship resulted in the unforgivable reason you wore the mask. Making friends you'd never see again in bars was one thing, but you weren't looking for long term relationships, platonic or not. On the other hand, you liked being alive. You would not let a man be your death, not after everything you'd been through.
“Fine,” you spat. The single word was a struggle to push out, your head felt like it was in a vice and the rest of your body was going numb as a new droplet of blood rolled down your face and caught in your eyelashes.
“Wise choice,” the first mate noted from behind his unreadable mask. “One of our commanders is gonna love that pretty little smile of yours”
“Bite me,” you spat back, voice laced with venom.
“Tell the girls to clean her up and get her settled,” Kid addressed the first mate as he used his devil fruit to release your bindings, dropping you to the hard floor unceremoniously. He threw your mask at you, bouncing with an audible clunk off your already sore head, and you grabbed it greedily. Killer watched you with empathy as you desperately covered your mouth back up, he knew that feeling well and felt like an asshole for knowing what you hid underneath. You shot daggers up at him as the mask was settled in its rightful place, the room brightening for a moment as the door opened for the captain to leave before returning to its barely lit state.
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As the months passed, you found yourself feeling surprisingly comfortable amongst the Kid Pirates. It'd taken you a while to heal and stop being so jumpy, but it came as no surprise to learn you were not the only crew member who had been hired via torture after pissing the short-fused captain off, and they all thought it was hilarious in retrospect. You hoped one day you'd find it funny too, but for now you still had aches from where new scars pulled taut on your skin as you moved. You found yourself at home among the other girls, and learned that Kid protected them with fierce loyalty. You had expected to have to reject more advances from him, but as it turned out, he treated the girls on his crew like sisters, and after months of getting past the violent way you were brought on the ship, you found yourself able to laugh in his presence. You never expected to enjoy the life of a pirate, but in truth it was nice to not have to fight for everything and take care of yourself, it was soothing to know someone had your back if you got into trouble. The girls had been diligent in tending to your wounds and nursing you back to health, and you'd gotten to know them well over the last few months. At first you thought about running every chance you got, but now you felt a pang of guilt whenever you thought of leaving the women you'd come to call friends, and ultimately pushed away the idea of leaving all together.
Much like the first mate though, you never removed your mask in front of the others. They'd allowed you to put up a curtain around your cot so you could sleep without it in privacy, you ate your meals in solitude sitting on the figurehead skull of the ship, and thankfully the showers were built as separate cubicles with doors. Nobody asked why you wore the mask, they respected your privacy the same way they respected Killer's, to ask what lay underneath would be a disrespect against both of you. As for the two that had seen, Kid and Killer kept your secret, even from the other commanders. Their word was gospel, so nobody pried, and it helped to make you feel safe here. You hadn't gone this long without someone asking about what the mask hid for months, the only questions you ever got from the crew were in regard to the mask itself. How was it made? Why a lion? Where did you get it? Is it annoying to wear? Curiosities that you couldn't fault, but always asked in a respectful manner.
This evening, like many other evenings, you found yourself drinking with the crew. It was a crew of around thirty, and although there were a few members held higher than the rest - the captain, first mate, and four commanders - it was clear the whole crew were friends, and there was no divide when they drank. You found yourself sitting next to Heat, a quiet, tall man with an almost grey skin tone, thick blue hair that fell in waves, and an almost perpetually sad expression. He was sweet, and easy to be around, and you often found yourself seeking his company. He didn't pry about your past as long as you didn't ask about his, and he was okay with a comfortable silence, making him one of your favourite people to spend time with, along with his best friend Wire, another commander who was similar in personality, though a lot more stoic, an a significant amount taller. Heat looked tough, but on a more personal level seemed far too soft to be a pirate. He didn't have a devil fruit, but he could breathe fire, and his long thorn-like tattoos fascinated you. He was an interesting man, someone you could see yourself opening up to in the past, if you hadn't sworn to close your heart from all men after the betrayal you experienced with the last one.
For obvious reasons, you didn't actually drink around the others, you just took part in the conversations. Unlike the Massacre Soldier, who could thread a straw through the holes in his mask, your mask was one solid form, the only holes being a mesh for ventilation hidden under the top row of sharp teeth, and the holes in the lion's nose where there the anatomy dictated, again so you could actually breathe. You enjoyed the company none-the-less though, and you'd never been one for drinking before the mask anyway so it was no loss. You didn't like the way alcohol made you feel, you preferred to keep your wits about you. That was another thing you enjoyed about Heat, he was your comrade in sober arms, also preferring not to drink. Apparently last time he got drunk he accidentally set fire to a bar, so he chose to stay sober for everyone's safety.
You laughed wholeheartedly as Quincy fell victim to a well planned truth or dare, admitting she'd had a raunchy sex dream about another crewmate, Bubblegum, the crew erupting in laughter as the two of them flushed bright red. The laughter died down and it was Quincy's turn to ask a question to the next victim, and your breath caught as you thought she was going to pick you, only to move one more over and pick Heat. You let out a sigh of relief.
“Truth or dare Heatie!” She coughed out, trying to quickly divert the crew's attention.
“Truth,” he replied calmly.
“Okay, mmmm,” she pressed a index finger to her mouth as she thought, “tell us who you have a crush on!”
A few of the crew went “ooooooh” as Heat turned bright red, and Kid sat up, his attention piqued.
“Look how red he is!” Kid barked, “there's definitely someone!”
“Tell us! Tell us!” Someone called out.
“It's… it's…[y/n]” he finally stuttered out, finally breaking, curling in on himself and trying to hide his flushed face from you. Your own face went pink at the admission, you hadn't expected it at all and there were butterflies in your chest. Heat quickly picked the next victim to move the attention, and you quietly excused yourself from the gathering.
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“I didn't mean to offend you,” Heat said softly as he approached where you sat on the figurehead skull, facing the ocean. You quickly wiped your tears and sniffed, replacing your mask which you'd removed to keep it dry from your crying. “Were you crying? [Y/n] I'm so sorry, please forget I said anything, it's just a dumb game”
“It's not that, Heat,” you sniffed, “it just… brought up some not very nice memories is all. It's not your fault”
“Oh, well I'm sorry anyway,” he shifted awkwardly on his feet, “do you want to talk about it?”
“The last man I was with was not kind,” you tried to explain, “he… decided I was no longer worth the trouble, and he did this,” you pointed at the mask.
“Can I… see?” He asked shyly.
You looked out to the ocean, thinking hard about whether you were ready for that, ready to let someone past that heavily guarded wall. If anyone would understand, it was him. In truth, you didn't want to carry this burden alone anymore, and you knew he was more than willing to carry it with you. You looked around the deck for spying eyes, and seeing no other life you gave him a small nod and patted the figurehead next to you, inviting him to come sit. He climbed up and sat beside you, cross legged and patient. You sighed nervously as you unlatched the mask with shaky hands, turning to him anxiously.
“Oh,” he said softly.
Staring back at him, stretching from the corners of your mouth to the apex of your jaw, were the jagged scars of a Glasgow smile, just like his own. His heart stung when he saw it, he knew the pain you'd been through, physical and emotional, and the way you no doubt feel every time you look in the mirror. You turned away from him again, replacing the mask and looking back out to the ocean.
“Did you kill him?” He asked, shuffling a little closer so your shoulders touched, staring out to the sea with you.
“Yes,” you replied flatly.
“Good,” he huffed. “How long ago did it happen, if you don't mind me asking”
“Three years,” you idly picked at the cuticles on your fingers.
“The dysphoria will pass, in time,” he assured you, then pointed at his own scars, “rival gang, eight years ago. I wore a scarf over the scars for five years before I finally got comfortable with my own reflection. It'll pass, and nobody here will judge you when it finally does”
You nodded quietly and rested your head on his shoulder, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence till you started to fall asleep and decided to head to bed.
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“MOVE, GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Heat shouted at the other crewmates that had crowded around your fallen form.
In a blink of an eye, everything had gone so very wrong. The crew had been raiding a marine base, rampaging through it as they always did, cutting down marines left and right. Nobody could have known the building you were fighting next to was structurally unsound, closed off from use years ago, scheduled to be demolished before it could collapse on someone's head. One small shake of the ground from a nearby explosion and the whole outer wall crumbled, burying you in heavy cement faster than you had a chance to register what was happening. The crew had been quick to dig you out, working together to move the large slab of concrete that was crushing you. Heat took in your seemingly lifeless body with baited breath, the limbs on your right side twisted in unnatural positions, deep purple bruises already forming on any skin that was visible, blood running from your nose and ears.
Your body moved just a little, and suddenly you were screaming. Awaking in absolute agony, everything was on fire, you could barely think through the pain. Only one coherent word escaped you, a shrill, desperate scream of his name, before the world went black again. Thankful that you were unconscious again so you didn't have to feel your injuries, Heat carefully lifted you, holding you close to his chest as he carried you back to the ship, tears silently rolling down his cheeks and neck as he tried his best to keep it together for you, to get you somewhere safe and start the long, hard process of healing.
For five days you slept in the infirmary of the Victoria Punk, and for those five days Heat never left your side, sleeping in an old metal chair next to you, his head against your arm and your good hand held gently in his, praying to whatever god that would listen that you'd wake up. His back ached from sleeping upright, he had deep, dark bags under his eyes, and he smelt as bad as he looked, still covered in the grime and blood from the battle, refusing to leave your side for long enough to shower. You needed him here, he needed to be here when you woke up, because you had to wake up, and he fought tooth and nail against anyone who dared to try and drag him away.
When you finally awoke, you did so with a small whimper, unable to remember what had happened, or understand why half your limbs weren't reacting the way you wanted them to. Heat had been asleep next to you, but was quickly at attention, standing over you and making sure you knew he was here before you had time to question whether you were all alone.
“Shh, don't try to move,” he said softly, stopping you from sitting up too fast with a firm but gentle hand against your chest, “you got hurt real bad, but you're safe now, you're gonna be okay”
Your hand flew to your mouth, feeling for your mask, looking up at him with wide shocked eyes when you found it was missing.
“Shh, shh, it's okay,” he took your hand back in his and removed it from your face, “only the doc saw, nobody else except Kid and Killer have come in here, and they said they'd already seen”
Your breathing calmed down again as you accepted his assurances, squeezing his hand and trying to sit up again. You wanted, no, needed to know how bad the damage was, you needed to see for yourself. You felt heavy, no doubt from painkillers, but you could still tell something was very wrong, your right arm and leg still not responsive. Heat saw your efforts and sighed, he knew there was no keeping you from it any longer.
“I'm gonna help you sit up okay?” He slid his arm around your shoulders and held the other against your chest, “But I need you to not panic. Your injuries were life threatening, Emma did everything in her power but she couldn't save everything”
You tried your best to stay calm but you couldn't help but start to hyperventilate as he sat you up and pulled the blanket that covered you aside, finally seeing the damage for yourself. Your right arm was in a cast, from your armpit to your hand, set in a bend. Your pinky and ring finger were missing, only stubs of them remained. You were wearing nothing but your underwear, your entire torso wrapped in bandages, healing graze marks and yellowing bruises peeking out from wherever the wrapping didn't cover. But the worst of the injuries was your right leg. Or rather, lack thereof, because from your mid thigh down was just empty space where your leg should have been, a bandage wrapped tightly around the short nub that remained.
Heat held you tight to his chest as you took in the damage and started to sob, your tears soaking into his corset shirt and rehydrating some of the blood and dirt on his chest. You weren't sure how long you cried for, at some point he climbed up on the bed and sat behind you, rocking you back and forth and cooing reassurances in your ear until you were able to settle your breathing and your sobs turned to teary-eyed hiccups.
“It's gonna be okay,” Heat assured, his arms around your torso as he pressed a kiss to your dirty hair, “Kid is already working on a prosthetic for you, Emma said the amount she was able to save is plenty to learn to walk again with one, it's gonna be okay, I'm gonna be here the whole time”
You nodded as you let yourself rest back against him, the weight of your emotional burden too much to bare alone anymore, letting him support your exhausted body and keep you afloat.
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A few days had passed and Emma, as the ship's doctor, had cleared you to leave the infirmary. You couldn't walk given you would need two working arms for crutches, and with your dominant arm out of action you struggled at even the most basic tasks, so Heat insisted you stay with him. He'd pulled a spare mattress from the henchmen's quarters and was sleeping on the floor with it, leaving the entire queen size bed for you. As a commander he had his own room and a small humble bathroom, nothing compared to the grand rooms Kid and Killer had, but it was private and it was comfortable, and it kept you from embarrassing yourself in the middle of the night whenever you needed to go to the bathroom. He'd even rearranged his room for you, and made Kid install metal railings, all you needed to do was hop a few supported steps to make it to the toilet. If you had to travel any further he didn't hesitate to carry you, he didn't even need to be asked, all you had to do was look at him and he was moving.
The first thing you needed after leaving the infirmary was a good wash. Emma had done her best with Heat's assistance to sponge bath what they could to keep your wounds clean of the blood and debris you'd been covered in when Heat had carried you in, but you really needed a soak to wipe away the thick layer of grime. You couldn't wash yourself though, you needed to keep your casted arm out of the water, which meant a shower was out of the question - not that you'd be able to stand in one - and with only one hand there was no way you were washing your hair on your own. Even with the one working arm, your chest and side were still aching from the deep bruising you'd received as a result of being crushed, you were lucky you hadn't broken any ribs, but every movement hurt badly.
Emma had offered to wash you, but you'd surprised yourself and Heat by asking him instead. Somehow you felt more comfortable with the idea of him seeing you naked. Not that you had anything against Emma, you just felt safest with Heat. He'd carried you wordlessly to his room, wrapped in the infirmary blanket, and sat you on the closed toilet seat in his bathroom while he ran the water. Emma had given you the all clear to remove your bandages, though the one on your amputated leg would need to be replaced afterwards, so you worked on removing them while you waited. When the water was ready he helped you to your… foot… and held you steady while you used your good arm to manoeuvre your underwear past your hips, letting it fall to the floor at your ankles and leaving you entirely naked in front of him except for your cast.
He lifted you gently and lowered you into the water, your good arm around his neck for support. Using the old bandages he fashioned a sort of sling hanging from the curtain railing to keep your other arm out of the water, so you wouldn't have to worry about holding it up yourself the whole time. He was so careful and methodical as he washed you, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks the whole time, unable to look you in the eye for shame of how much he enjoyed seeing your naked body, how much he enjoyed touching you, when such horrible circumstances had led to this.
He avoided your genitals, letting you wash them yourself, and you sighed as his strong fingers worked shampoo into your scalp, washing away thick layers of grime that a sponge bath couldn't touch. It was quiet and intimate, the only words shared being him asking consent and you granting it as he worked on the different parts of your body, wiping away the blood and dirt. You whimpered as the cloth ran over your stump, burying your face in his chest for moral support as he diligently cleaned the old blood from it, the conditioner in your hair transfering to his skin.
Finally finished, he discarded the cloth and held you close while he knelt next to the tub, and you couldn't help but cry more at the awful state of your body. He didn't question your need to cry, he just held you while you got it all out till you took a deep breath and pushed yourself away from him, nodding that you were ready to move on. He rinsed the conditioner from your hair and drained the tub, wrapping you in a soft towel as he picked you back up and carried you to the bed. He held you in his lap as he dried you with an extra towel, patting dry your hair and wiping the dewdrops from your limbs. He held you firm to his chest, your arm around his neck, your head tucked under his chin as you listened to his rhythmic breathing. It was enough to lull you to sleep, so he carefully slipped an old baggy t-shirt over you, trying his best to not wake you, and tucked you into his bed, leaving you to rest.
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It'd been close to six weeks since the accident. Your arm cast had been removed a week ago, so you were now able to get around on your own using crutches, though the distance you could go before tiring was limited. Kid had built you a beautiful prosthetic leg, even going so far as adding a lion's clawed paw for the foot to match your mask, and Emma had given the go ahead for you to try using it in a few more days. For now, your stump remained covered in a compression sock, to promote healing and make sure it was ready for the prosthetic to be fitted. Kid had become an unlikely ally in this battle, having lost a limb himself he understood how you were feeling, and had helped you through more than one dark episode while you mourned the loss of your leg.
Mostly though, it was Heat that was there for you. You were still staying in his room, even though you assured him you could manage on your own. He insisted you would be more comfortable here, and try as you might he refused to share the large bed with you to at least alleviate a little of your guilt, telling you over and over that he was more than comfortable on his mattress, even though it was clear to everyone that his back was hurting and his eyes had heavy bags. You could hear him toss and turn at night, his quality of sleep significantly diminished because of his chivalrous sacrifice, but he'd give up anything to make you even slightly more comfortable. You had to admit though, having the privacy to sleep without your mask without fear of peeping toms was a luxury in itself. You didn't wear the mask in the bedroom, more than comfortable without it in front of Heat. He still helped you bathe, but it'd become significantly less awkward, now a time for conversation and laughter. You no longer had a cast to keep dry, and you really didn't need help anymore other than getting in and out of the tub, but neither of you had said anything about it, so he happily continued to help you, and you graciously accepted the help and his company. Subconsciously, neither of you wanted to let go of that time alone together, and you secretly enjoyed the feel of his hands wandering over your body, and the way he silently scanned your curves, a quiet hunger in his eyes that never left no matter how many times he saw you naked.
On this night, the ship was on route to a winter island, the long reaching weather system already chilling the air significantly as Heat helped you into bed. He stole a chaste kiss on the top of your hair, as he often did these days, before excusing himself to his mattress on the floor.
Hours passed, and he woke as he often did, sighing to himself and twisting his torso to crack his sore back. He strolled in his sweatpants to the bathroom to get a glass of water, thankful that his natural abilities kept him well heated, so he didn't feel the chill of the snowy weather outside. You, however, were not a fire breather, and were very much feeling the cold. You were shivering in your sleep, hunched in on yourself to try and conserve any heat from escaping but failing miserably. He felt a pang of guilt at your shaking form, and opened a cupboard to get you another blanket, only to discover you were already using the extra one. What was he to do? His own blanket was barely anything, more of a thin fabric to cover him for comfort than for warmth, it wouldn't make any difference to put it over you. Should he go find you another blanket? Where from? Maybe he could wake Wire and see if he had a spare? Everyone else on the ship felt the cold the same as you though, they were no doubt all using their blankets.
Stressed that you would fall ill, he pulled at his hair, trying to find a solution, till a small whimper escaped you and the solution was abundantly clear. He lifted the blankets and slid in beside you, wrapping himself around your body, covering as much of your icy frame as he could with his hot skin. Your shivering quickly stopped, and a small smile formed on your face as you settled into a deeper sleep. He let go a sigh of relief and shuffled till he was comfortable, laying so close that his head was on the same pillow as yours. It felt like a violation of your personal space, but he couldn't bare to watch you shiver anymore, and he felt butterflies at being able to hold you so close in what was really his bed, even if it mostly smelt like you these days, not that he had complaints.
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You were so warm when you woke up, wrapped in what felt like an army of hot water bottles, your skin sticky with sweat but you were too comfy to care. It took you an embarrassing long time to realise you weren't alone, a soft breath rustling your hair gently in a rhythmic pattern that matched the movement of the warm form next to you. Your eyes traced the thorn like tattoos that ran up and down the arm that was draped over you, a thick, muscular thigh trapped between yours, a pillow of pale blue hair intermingled with your own. You had wrapped yourself around him like a koala on a tree, seeking out his warmth in the night and clinging to it so it couldn't escape. You tilted your head up, your face now millimetres from his, inspecting fondly the scars on his face that matched your own. The dark eyeliner he liked to wear under his eyes was smudged, always too lazy to remove it before he slept, and his chin was covered in a fine layer of blue stubble. You blushed at how handsome he was, and how close said handsome face was to yours, his strong arms wrapped around you like he was just as unwilling to let go as you were.
His eyes fluttered open, his dark irises immediately focusing on you and his pupils blown wide in surprise as he realised the position he was in. He tried to pull away, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but you pulled him back to you, pressing your lips to his on instinct, in a desperate plea for him to stay. For a moment he didn't move, frozen in fear that this wasn't real, that you hadn't really kissed him, till he finally accepted the reality and kissed you back. His kiss was tender, full of devotion and longing, and you made a small moan as his tongue ran over your bottom lip and his hand wove into your hair. You opened your lips for him and his tongue dove inside, rutting against yours with his own quiet moan as you held him tight, pulling lightly on his hair to wordlessly beg for more.
He rolled you on to your back, pressing his thigh further up between your legs, and you whimpered into his mouth as you tried to roll your hips to rub against him, desperate for friction but unable to get it with your stupid useless stump. Understanding your frustration he ran his hand quickly down your front, threading it under the waistband of your pyjamas and your panties to slide between your wet folds. He pressed a thumb to your clit, circling it as his index finger toyed with your entrance, before sliding in and pumping you with slow, shallow movements that made you cry out. You hadn't realised how badly you needed him, how much you needed him inside you, filling you and sharing your breaths. He pulled away from the kiss and you could see your own feelings reflected in his eyes, all that longing and need and love. Love you didn't think was possible for you to even feel again, but it was there, without a doubt, and you knew he felt it too.
He watched your face carefully as he slid a second finger inside you, then a third, his pace quickening as your walls fluttered around his digits, his clothed erection rutting against the thigh of your good leg in his own desperate need for friction. He wanted to he inside you so badly, he wanted to feel your hot wet walls take him in and see your face contort as you came on his cock, the thought alone was almost enough to make him cum as he groaned and kissed you with fervour. He swallowed your moans as you clamped down on his fingers, your back arching off the bed as you came hard, shuddering underneath him.
As soon as your high had settled, you were sitting up and trying your best to claw away at his pants. You wanted him inside you so fucking bad, you'd already cum once but you ached with need. He pushed down his pants, his cock springing to attention, red and swollen with equal need, precum leaking from the tip. You eyed him hungrily, he was thick and longer than average, a set of three piercings running up the underside, you wanted to know how they would feel inside you. He helped you pull off your own clothes before settling between your legs, his tip prodding at your entrance but not yet inside, much to your frustration.
“Are you sure?” He asked nervously. You pulled him down by his neck and kissed him, forcing your tongue in his mouth before biting his bottom lip, pulling a groan from him.
“Please, Heat,” you begged, “I need you inside me, please”
He returned his lips to yours as he slid inside you, stretching you out, till the need to breathe was too much and you broke the kiss to pant, holding his shoulders tight as he sheathed himself inside you. You let out a stuttered moan, your breathing haggard as you rolled your hips to try and get him to move. He pumped you deep and agonisingly slow, just enjoying the pull of your walls on his length, till you wrapped your good leg around him and pressed your heel against his ass, moaning and clawing at his back as his pace finally picked up. He buried his face in your shoulder as he fucked you hard and fast, holding the headboard above you for support while his other hand held your hip tight, his fingers leaving bruises in your skin. You cried out a flurry of curses, mixed with his name and a string of yes yes yes as he groaned and panted in your ear, whispering sweet nothings and praising you for how well you were taking him.
His movements became erratic as you started to tighten around him again, your fingernails sinking into the skin on his back as you screamed his name and came hard, clamping around his cock and pulling him forcefully with you. His thrusts stuttered and stilled as he unloaded inside you, his hot thick load dripping out of you for lack of space as he shook and groaned. He collapsed to your side, pulling you with him, his softening cock still buried inside you as he held you to his chest. You draped your leg over his hip, kissing him softly, slowly, your tongues pressing together with more careful and tender movements, no longer driven by the carnal need for him to be inside you. You were full and content, comfortable despite his cock still buried in you, you felt like you could stay connected like this forever. He made you feel safe, and beautiful, despite your scars and mutilated body, as he pressed loving kisses over your Glasgow smile, and you returned the favour with kisses traced along his.
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h3rself · 2 days
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did i ever tell you guys that i got a handwritten letter from K?
a little back story: i'm a very sentimental person, and whenever someone means something to me, they will one hundred percent get a piece of paper from me with all of my feelings poured on it in ink. that's just who i am. i keep a small notebook of everything everyone's ever said to me, and i just think it's nice to give others something to hold on to as well (or at least i hope they do hold on to it).
K kind of knows about all this because i've mentioned it multiple times on Instagram stories, but he hadn't gotten a letter from me yet at the time. what he didn't know back then was that i'd been working on a letter to give to him after i graduate. i just wanted to, you know, let him know how much he and his classes meant to me. and i kinda hoped i'd be the first student to ever do that for him in this form.
as you might remember, there was a moment right before the end of my last year at uni where i decided to be a little bold and i invited him for a glass of wine at a nice restaurant. that is also when i gave him my letter.
to my surprise, somewhere towards the end of our meeting, after he said we should head home, he took something–an envelope–out of his jacket, and put it next to my hand that was resting on the side of the table (i remember this because our hands brushed and i almost died)
imagine how fast my heart was beating then!!! he told me to open it at home, which only made me more anxious
the envelope had my name on it in his handwriting. i should probably tell you about his handwriting. he uses a fountain pen, and writes beautifully in cursive. he wrote my full name in gold ink, and i'm not even joking when i say i had no idea my name could look this pretty
i took an uber home and as soon as i got out, i sat at the nearest bench and opened the envelope. you guys, my hands were shaking at that point.
i don't want to post the entire content of the letter here for privacy reasons obviously, but one of the things that i think became engraved in my head was how he said that he never really treated me as a student but rather as an equal because of how much i already knew and how little he had to teach me, and how he viewed having linguistics classes with me as, and i quote, simply using language as a means of exchanging thoughts, because it was never just a class, more like a conversation between us.
i've got a photo of this letter saved on my phone and i look at it every now and then because i swear to god this is the most beautiful thing anyone's ever done for my sentimental heart
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nieloxychen · 22 days
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not to have a moment in another posts tags so im venting in my own tags <3
#still on the “first human to know Tal” point like??#even when ive outed myself to others there were never questions like that#affirming questions would be a good term maybe?#but it was silence and maybe a clarifiying question#all i remember is silence from others and unease from me#at least in person#online is a different best because that mostly concerns things youre already volunteering#and like the obvious bad memory bias that brains have doesnt make it easier#i could name the people that inspired me to take another look at my gender - that showed me there was more than a strict binary#but i wish i had someone like that? a first human to know Lo#i mean i definetly do in the general sense#because every name is said a first and last time by someone#but it was almost certainly someone who never thought twice about it#who might not have even wondered#im not sure why it makes such a difference if the first person i told my name to knew thati had a different name before then#or if it matters if the person i first introduced myself to by my chosen name knows that my name is important to me#but i definetly remember the people who asked about where my name comes from#and i feel better about those conversations than i do with people who never had any reaction at all#maybe its that i want to be recognised in full? and a big part of who i am is informed by me being trans#and it feels like an important part of what made me who i am today is being ignored?#idk...#but if anyone has read this far id love to hear someone elses input on this? like is this something you understand or even recognise?
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readymades2002 · 1 year
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apparently i dislike one of my coworkers noticeably enough, despite not saying anything about it, that he took the liberty of catching me alone when i was putting on my high-visibility gear yesterday and asking me about it. which did not stop him from deliberately trying to rope me into a conversation when he got the chance later for reasons i can only assume were related to making me uncomfortable which congratulations! you succeeded
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gojorgeous · 5 months
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arranged marriage! gojo heacanons
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pairing: gojo x fem!reader synopsis: just some headcanons about arranged marriage gojo! headcanons do follow a linear plot content: MDNI (18+ONLY), nsfw & sfw content, arranged marriage, p->v, oral (fem!receiving), pregnancy, breeding, not proofread because i'm lazy!!! a/n: i had a request to do a sort of expansion/sequel/prequel (?) on my business or pleasure fic, so... this is that. enjoy! and remember AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 2k (that's so much headcanon lmao)
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Arranged Marriage! Gojo who reluctantly agrees to an arranged marriage when the clan decides it’s time to secure the lineage and make a new heir.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose jaw nearly drops when he sees you for the first time as you’re walking down the aisle. No way you’re that hot… 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s practically rocking on his feet waiting for the minister to give him permission to kiss you. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who drags said kiss on a little (a lot) longer than he needed to and spends the rest of the night wishing he’d dragged it on even longer.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s actually really pissed that there are so many damned guests at his wedding. All of them want to talk to him when all he really wants to do is talk to you!!! 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who only gets about three words into you the whole night and feels like pouting every time someone pulls him away from your arm. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finally relaxes a bit when the party’s over and he finally gets you alone. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who has a hard time keeping his hands to himself on the drive home. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who can’t help but stare at your lips as you answer his silly little questions about your favorite color and your favorite food.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who has to restrain himself from literally pulling you out of the car and up to his penthouse. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who suddenly finds himself a little nervous when he finally has you to himself. It’s his wedding night and he has to please his wife, right? 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who revels in tearing away your dress until he sees the lacy little white set you have on underneath.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who pins your wrists to the bed just so he can admire the way you look beneath him. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who nearly comes with no warning the first time he hears you moan his name. He decides it’s his sole purpose in life to make you moan like that as much as possible. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who is somehow both gentle and rough, who peppers you with kisses but rocks into you so good he has you seeing stars. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who thinks he ascends when you come around his cock and then ascends again when he remembers he married you and gets to see it for the rest of his life. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes sure to cum inside you and give you every last drop. After all, you have to make a new little Gojo heir, right?
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who holds you tightly to his chest until you drift off to sleep with your head atop his heart. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who takes the next two hours to be able to fall asleep himself, too hyped up on all the endorphins he’s feeling.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose brow furrows and stomach drops when he wakes the next morning to you not in his arms. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who scours the house for you and finds you in the living room reading, already having been up for hours. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose heart fractures a little bit when you greet him soooooo formally and tell him that there’s some breakfast in the fridge. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who spends far too long in the shower, letting the water run over him and trying to figure out where he went wrong. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who comes to the conclusion that he just needs to win you over a little more slowly, who smiles and thinks he knows exactly how to do it. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finds you still reading on the couch and tells you to get ready to go out– you’re going shopping. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who takes you to every designer shop he can think of and buys everything your eyes so much as graze over. Even if you tell him you don’t want it– he doesn’t care. You’re getting it. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose heart flutters in his chest when you smile at a pretty little necklace he buys you. It’s not the most expensive thing he’s bought you by far, but it makes you the happiest nonetheless. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s confused as to why you keep thanking him so profusely on the way home. His money is your money now… do you not know that? 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes a stop at the bank on the way home and gets you a flashy black credit card with your name (and new last name hehe) printed at the bottom. He loves the way your eyes widen and your lips part when he tells you there’s no limit. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who asks you what you want to do that night. Fly to Paris for dinner? Pack for a vacation to Bali? Maybe just a fancy meal at Tokyo’s most exclusive restaurant? He’s shocked when you say you’d prefer takeout and a movie on the couch, but all too happy to oblige.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who orders half the menu at your favorite ramen restaurant that he’s never heard of. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes go wide when he takes the first bite and tells you it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who stares at your lips when you laugh and ask him, “really? The best?” 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s suddenly tugging your skirt down your thighs and burying his face between your legs. He takes one long lick and moans, saying that the ramen is now only second-best. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who thinks he could fuck you for hours on his couch, but stops after just a few rounds. He doesn’t want to tire his little baby out. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who savors the way you let him hold you after sex. Why couldn’t he hold you like this all day? So what if you’d just met– you’re his wife??? 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who buries his face in your neck to memorize the moment, dreading the second you pull away from him. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who almost protests when you wrap a blanket around your body and pad off, saying you’re going to take a shower.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who debates cornering you in the bathroom for another round, if only so he can hold you again, but thinks better of it and cleans up your forgotten ramen instead.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who is completely exasperated when you never return to finish the movie. He finds you sitting in your shared bed, reading again. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose heart drops when you only look up long enough to give him a small smile instead of tumbling straight into his arms. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finds himself once again in the shower contemplating his existence. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who decides he’ll win you over one way or another, even if it takes longer than he originally intended… 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who climbs into bed next to you and slings an arm around your waist casually, like his heart isn’t hammering in his chest when he buries his face in his pillow. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who doesn’t truly fall asleep until you turn off your bedside lamp and lie down beside him. His heart does little skips when you don’t wiggle out from under his arm. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who wakes first in the morning this time to find you curled so tightly into his chest he’s sure his pounding heart is going to wake you. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes turn into little hearts when you wake blushing after you realize how closely you’ve curled into him. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who tells you it’s okay and pulls you back into him and smirks when you can't see his face.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who spends the next few weeks buying you every knick and knack, every snack and meal, and bending you every surface in the house. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes light up whenever he sees you wearing that little necklace he bought you on that very first shopping trip. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who buys you another necklace… this one with his initials dangling from the chain. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes you ride him so he can see his letters swaying from your neck as you come on his cock. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who spends every waking moment with you on his mind, who gets in a sticky situation while fighting more than once because he’s waiting for you to text him back or remembering all the nasty things he did to you last night. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finally takes a look at the pages of those books you like so much and realizes the pure filth his dirty little wife reads right beside him every night. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s not angry or put off, but rather excited. He uses it as a manual the next he has you under him and when he repeats a line verbatim from your book he laughs so loud at your shocked little blush that he’s sure you’re both getting a noise complaint in the morning. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes every effort to find out what you like (beyond reading smut) and buys you front row tickets to a concert for a band that you both happen to love. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finds out your favorite movie series and takes three (unapproved) days off of work just to have a marathon with you. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who is having his morning coffee (full of cream and sugar and caramel sauce, of course) when you make your way into the kitchen with your lip pulled between your teeth. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes blow wide when he sees a stick with two little pink lines and realizes he’s managed to knock you up on the first try.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who simply has to have you right then and there, bending you over the counter and groaning your name when he slides inside your cunt. He’s gentler this time, though. Can’t be too rough when his wife is pregnant, right? 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who goes overboard with his excitement and buys a new car the same day he finds out you’re pregnant. It’s practically a tank with all its safety features. He says you’re only allowed in that specific vehicle for the foreseeable future. Get used to it. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s all over you now. Whatever restraint he had before is gone now that you’re carrying his baby. He touches you… everywhere. All the time. It’s like it pains him to not have at least a smidgen of his skin on yours. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who keeps trying to win you over in the following weeks. He needs you. Not just your body, but your mind and your soul, too!
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who just lets it slip that he loves you when he’s balls deep in your cunt. Doesn’t even get embarrassed or flustered about it, just keeps pounding into you and whining about how much he loves you over and over again while he’s filling you up. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who lets the floodgates open after that. He tells you he loves you at every opportunity. It gets to the point where those three little words don’t even fluster you anymore, but you haven’t said them back. Not yet. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who waits patiently. He knows he’s getting to you, little by little. He’s sure he’ll hear you say it back soon. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s blindsided despite having convinced himself he’d be able to play it cool. He’s got you on the couch, wrapped up in his arms with his head on your tummy (he gets to hold you as much as he wants now hehe). You’re braiding his hair when you tell him that you love him. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who flushes the deepest shade of pink you’ve ever seen and pulls down his blindfold like he needs to see you say it again.
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who begs to hear it again and again and again until he’s smiling so wide it's literally blinding. 
Arranged Marriage! Gojo who thinks his arranged marriage was definitely the best thing to ever happen to him <3
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taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina
please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡
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tonycries · 5 days
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Freak On The Cam! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 6.5k
A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.
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“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”
Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.
All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 
In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.
Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.
“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”
“She’s also my classmate.”
“Kinky. Even better.” 
No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 
It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.
Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.
And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  
“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”
Ping!
And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 
“Let’s make one ;)”
---
“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 
Weird. 
It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.
It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 
You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.
So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  
Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.
But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 
“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”
“Yes.” 
It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 
But so irresistible just the same.
“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”
Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 
Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 
Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 
This was absolute torture. 
And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 
His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 
And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 
“...all you gotta do is touch me.”
Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.
“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 
But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”
And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 
“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.
You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”
His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”
Oh. 
Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.
With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”
And then it’s like something snapped. 
You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 
Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 
No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.
You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 
Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.
“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 
And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.
You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 
“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”
God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 
“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”
You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.
“Cho, do you want me to-”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.
You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 
“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”
“Oh?”
“Are y’gonna teach me how?”
Oh. Fuck.
You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.
Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 
You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 
“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”
You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”
“Like this?”
“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”
And by God, did you mean it. 
“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 
Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-
“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”
Ah, found it.
Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 
“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”
You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.
Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-
“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”
And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 
So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-
“Faster.”
He goes faster. 
“H-harder.”
He goes harder.
Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.
“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”
You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 
And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.
He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 
“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”
Oh. Shit, what have you done?
---
That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.
A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 
So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 
But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.
In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.
Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 
For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?
Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 
“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”
“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”
Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-
Intensity setting 2.
“You’re so mean, too.”
“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”
God, he was addictive.
Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”
“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.
Intensity setting 3.
“That so?”
And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 
“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 
“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”
Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 
Intensity setting 4.
As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.
“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”
Cocky bastard.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”
God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.
“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”
Intensity setting 5.
That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.
Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.
“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”
Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.
“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”
Knock! Knock! Knock! 
“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”
And with that, it’s like the magic is over.
Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 
Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”
Close. You were so close.
A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.
---
“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”
You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-
But that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”
Shit. Sukuna.
Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.
“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”
You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 
“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 
And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 
“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”
“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”
“Just content?”
“Just content.”
“And you like that fool?”
Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”
This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”
“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”
Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”
Oh. Is that so?
And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”
---
You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 
You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)
Cho <3: :0 
And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?
Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 
He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 
Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 
Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 
Until now, that is.
slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.
uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 
itsgenslut: idfc just fuck
“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”
You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 
“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”
“Mhm?”
And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.
Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”
It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”
And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.
The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 
It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 
“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”
“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”
uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??
roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh
“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”
Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 
“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”
A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 
He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?
“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.
You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”
“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”
Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 
“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”
You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 
“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.
Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”
Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 
“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”
Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 
Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”
“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”
Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 
Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time
22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.
DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser
Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 
“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-
“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”
The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.
You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-
 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 
And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 
slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.
DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.
Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.
Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 
So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 
Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 
“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”
“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”
You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 
“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”
Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 
Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 
Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.
Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-
“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”
His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 
Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.
“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”
And he knows he’s won. 
urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.
uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls
DaStrongest: invite me next time <3
“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”
Oh?
“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 
“Mhm?”
“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”
---
Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.
You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.
Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 
You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.
Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.
Haha
Right? 
You: *girlfriend
Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?
You: Girlfriend.
Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??
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A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
3K notes · View notes
hon3y-y · 1 month
Note
NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤
cw: noncon filming!
pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3
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omfg he would be soooo pissed💀
picture this;
The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 
Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 
He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.
“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”
“Why are you still here?”
Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 
Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 
At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 
You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.
You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).
You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 
He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 
Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.
You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 
Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 
One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?
He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 
Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.
You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.
he’s sooo down bad://
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3K notes · View notes
Text
In 1985, one of the only persons interested in an interview with a “new” writer called Terry Pratchett, after his publication of the Colour of Magic, was one Neil Gaiman. Neil Gaiman was writing for Space Voyager at the time. "The Colour of Pratchett" was the name given here:
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It ran exactly one page inside the June/July issue of that year. The interview took place in a Chinese restaurant in London.
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Here is Neil many years later holding that issue. You can see it here if you want. Warning: extremely emotional video.
Neil arrived wearing a grey homburg hat. “Sort of like the ones Humphrey Bogart wears in movies” he later wrote. (Before saying that in fact he did not look like him, but like someone wearing a grown-up’s hat). Terry Pratchett, photo courtesy of one @neil-gaiman, was in a Lenin-style leather cap and a harlequin-patterned pullover. At this point, Terry was already a hat person, although not that hat.
Terry offered Neil this : "An interview needn't last more than 15 minutes. A good quote for the beginning, a good quote for the end, and the rest you make up back at the office"*. (Terry Pratchett had worked many years in journalism by this point ).
But the meeting went terribly well. The two of them realized they had "the same sort of brains". So well indeed, that in 1985, Neil had shown Terry a file containing 5282 words, exploring a scenario in which Richmal Crompton's William Brown had somehow become the Antichrist. Was a collaboration in the cards as of that moment? Not really. But Terry found in Neil someone to whom he could send disks of work in progress and to whom he could pick up the phone sometimes when he hit a brick in the road of his writing.
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Terry loved it and the concept stayed in his mind. A couple of years later, he rang Neil to ask him if he had done any more work on it. Neil had been busy with The Sandman, he had not really given it another thought. Terry said, "Well I know what happens next, so either you sell me the idea or we can write it together". **
And as you know, unless you’ve been living in Alpha Centauri, the rest is history. That was the beginning of what would become William the Antichrist and later would get the name Good Omens:The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. (Title provided by Neil Gaiman and subtitle by Terry Pratchett).
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From the introduction to William the Antichrist: “In the summer of 1987 several odd ideas came together: (..)I found myself imagining a book called William the Antichrist, in which a hapless demon was going to be responsible for swapping the wrong baby over, and the son of the US Ambassador would be completely undemonic, while William Brown would grow up to be the Antichrist, and the demon would need to stop him ending the world. The unfortunate demon, whom I called Crawleigh, because Crawley was a nearby town with an unfortunate name, would have to sort it all out as best he could.
It felt like a story with legs.
Terry took the 5,000 words, and rewrote them, calling me to tell me what he was doing and what he was planning to do. The biggest thing he was going to do, he told me, was split the hapless demon into two characters – a would-be-cool demon in dark glasses (which was, I think, Terry’s way of making fun of me, a never-actually- cool journalist in dark glasses) who had renamed himself Crowley, and a rare-book dealer and angel called Aziraphale, who would embody all the English awkwardness that either of us could conceive.”
William the Antichrist being a direct inspiration of the 1976 film The Omen. If the baby swap had just been a little bit messier and the kid had gone off somewhere else he would have grown up as somebody else. “And then there was a beat and I thought, I should write it, it will be called William the Antichrist” says Neil. ***
“The first draft of Good Omens was a William-book. It was absolutely in every way it could be a William book. It had Violet Elizabeth Bott, it had William and the Outlaws, it had Mr. Brown”.
Over time they realized that they would have more creative freedom if they in their own words filed off the serial numbers. William and the Outlaws becoming Adam and the Them.
But the spirit of Just William was never far away.
The joy for Neil was to construct “perfectly William sentences”. The one when Anathema tells Adam that she has lost the Book, and he tells her that he has written a book about a pirate who became a famous detective and it is 8 pages long… that’s “a William sentence”.
Good Omens was also inspired by a particularly antisemitic moment in The Jew of Malta and John le Carre's spy novels. (Neil’s ask)
“When we finished the book we estimated that the words were 60% Terry’s and 40% mine, and the plot, such as it was, was entirely ours.”
(Here are some slides of mine where I go into some other details concerning the origins of Good Omens).
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*Quote: from Terry Pratchett A Life With Footnotes by Rob Wilkins, but said by Terry of course.
** All the quotes, facts listed here : see above.
***all other quotes by Neil Gaiman from various interviews and asks I’ll link.
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yeahxsurexokay13 · 28 days
Text
bragger - lando norris
summary: fans constantly tease yn for always bringing lando up and being a bit of a simp for her boyfriend - which only gets worse after his first f1 win - so she writes a song about how if they were her they'd do the same.
warnings: none i think??? but let me know if i missed any. the song mentioned is 'bragger' by kelsea ballerini!! (((:
IN HONOUR OF LANDO'S VERY FIRST WIN !! 🥇
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y/n.updates
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Liked by fan22 and 1.340 others
y/n.updates Y/n's interview with WIRED where she answers the web's most searched questions about her is now out! Go give it a watch 😄
view all 208 comments
fan1 she looked painfully beautiful in this
fan2 how was lando in the answer for questions like 'does y/n speak spanish?' or 'is y/n a good singer?' lol
fan7 she said she didn't remember much from high school but knew some words lando had been taught by carlos sainz and that her boyfriend tells her she is... it kind of isn't that weird if u think about it haha
user1 The more I see of her, the more I like her
fan7 i spy with my little eye 1.6K people with no taste
fan3 interview was everything I hoped for and more! she's hilarious and relatable as always
fan4 new drinking game: take a shot every time she mentions lando
fan5 I've watched it like 5 times already lol
fan6 we need a tally for how many times Y/n drops 'Lando' in her interviews. can someone make that happen?
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y/n.y/l
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Liked by carlossainz55 and 1.890.321 others
y/n.y/l the vibe i bring to the function (ugly crying on facetime) !!! so incredibly happy for you @/landonorris. you did it 🧡🧡🧡
view all 3.501 comments
y/n.y/l also congrats @/oscarpiastri and everyone else at mclaren for an amazing race ((((:
oscarpiastri thank you Y/n! 🧡 ❤️ by author
landofan4 ok this is very cute and nice of her🥺🥺
fan1 ARE YOU STILL CRYING ? BECAUSE I AM DEFINITELY STILL CRYING
y/n.y/l started crying on lap 54 and haven't stopped since
fan2 new post from my fave lando norris fan account yay (also go lando!!!!!!)
user1 Well deserved 👏🏼👏🏼
landofan3 soy lago
y/n.y/l same
lnfour LFGGGG ❤️ by author
fan3 How many times do you think Y/n's going to mention Lando's win in the next week? Taking bets now
maxfewtrell It's the messy hair and smudged mascara for me
y/n.y/l knew i should've gone for the 'perfectly composed while crying' look instead 😔
landofan1 rip lando nowins: 2019-2024 ❤️ by author
landofan2 "you were scared? i wasn't. i was ok (laughs). thank you. i love you" lando 🥹🥹🥹
fan5 when did he say that? omg
landofan2 f1 posted a reel on their profile and you can hear him talking to her!
mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER 🏆
y/n.y/l I AM SO NOT CALM ABOUT THIS ??!!?
user2 i could've sworn i saw her at the race? why are they facetiming?
fan4 they could barely speak after the win tbh! this is probably a call in between interviews
user2 today's bottle smash hit different ❤️ by author
landonorris I've said this like a million times already today but I love you so much
y/n.y/l i love you i love you i love you i love you
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Liked by pietra.pilao and 1.809.896 others
y/n.y/l if he was yours, you'd do the same without apologising... new single 'bragger' out now!!!! 💋💋
view all 3.890 comments
fan6 WHAT HAPPENED TO HWLLO ?? HOW ARE YIU ??
y/n.y/l 🫢🫢
fan1 "he's just too damn good not to mention" .....................i mean she is right we'll give that to her ❤️ by author
landofan1 USING THESE SPECIFIC PICS OF LANDO TO ANNOUNCE THE RELEASE OF A SINGLE ABOUT BRAGGING ABOUT HIM IS WILD !!!!
landofan5 that last video is doing things to me.........
landonorris i'm confused does anyone know who this is about?
y/n.y/l no idea 🤷🏽‍♀️ but let me know if you find out xx
landofan4 apparently about some guy named bob?? I'm not sure
fan8 HAHAHA I LOVE THEM
fan2 she really wanted to make sure she'd made her point clear with this dump omfg
fan3 her point: she has a hot bf and we don't
user1 Well played, Y/N. Well played. 🥸
fracisca.cgomes On repeat ❤️❤️
y/n.y/l lindaaaaaaa ❤️
landofan2 knowing all she's saying is about lando makes the song x1000 times better
fan7 so she saw the tweets... 😐
y/n.y/l i saw everything 👀 they were actually hard to miss hahaha
user2 "i understand why you would want him (i don't mind)" queen behaviour !!!!!! 👑👑
fan4 So this is how she gets back at us for all the teasing lol not complaining at all
landofan3 I can't believe this new song is actually inspired by the fans' teasing about Lando!!🤣
fan5 we joked, she delivered!!! bragger is actually a banger👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
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charlieeenby · 2 months
Text
meeting robin
the justice league is happy that batman is socializing, but they're worried that he doesn't seem to notice when robin is switched out every few years
warnings and tags: miscommunication but it's funny, alien invasion, mentioned violence
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“Batman,” Clark said slowly, “why do you have a second heartbeat?”
Instead of responding, Batman grunted.
“A second heartbeat?” Barry questioned, zipping over. “How would that even work?”
Another grunt from Batman.
“Batman?”
“I don’t.”
“But I can hear a second heartbeat coming from you.” Clark said, confused.
“It’s not mine.”
Barry choked. “Huh? Who is it then?”
“Robin’s.”
Clark frowned. “Who’s Robin?”
Batman grunted again, and Barry groaned.
“Come on, man!”
Then, Batman’s cape, which hid his entire body, shifted. Clark heard a small giggle. A child popped out, beaming.
“I’m Robin!” he exclaimed, clearly excited to be there. Barry was startled and jumped back a bit.
“What the f-” he stopped short when Batman glared at him. “Fudge?”
“Batman, what is…who is this?” Clark asked.
“This is Robin.” Batman said, like it explained anything.
“We got that. Why is he here?”
Robin bounced. “I’m gonna help!” he said, and Clark caught an accent he couldn’t quite place.
“Help?”
This got him a nod. “Yeah. B said I was ready to meet the Justice League!”
“Who’s B?”
Robin squinted at Barry’s question. Then pointed up at Batman. “B.”
“Batman, where’s Robin?” Diana asked, surprised the young vigilante wasn’t with Batman.
“He’s busy. Couldn’t come.” Batman said, and Diana got the sense that there was something that Batman wasn’t saying to her, but she decided to leave it be.
“I see. Is he alright?”
“Fine. Work.” Batman seemed to be giving short answers again, something he’d stopped doing after Robin had shown up.
“Well, tell him we all missed him, please.”
Batman grunted.
“Batman, what happened to Robin?” Barry questioned, staring at the small boy that had replaced the teen they’d watched grow up. This one seemed shy, half hidden behind Batman.
“Nothing.”
“Well something had to have happened, Robin was a lot taller last time we saw him.” Clark said, also watching the boy. “That’s not the same person.”
“No.” Batman said in an almost growl.
“Huh?” Barry said, confused.
“That’s not the Robin we know. That’s someone else.” Clark said.
“We’re ready to start.” Diana said from behind Batman and Robin, the latter of which startled by her.
Clark heard a quiet ‘woah’ from the boy and smiled. He must be a fan of Wonder Woman.
The Justice League and Robin shuffled into the meeting room, Robin sitting in a chair very close to Batman.
For the entire meeting, he sat quietly, mostly watching Diana with obvious wonder across his face.
Afterwards, Diana approached him, kneeling down to his level.
“Hello. My name is Diana.”
“H-hi.”
“How long have you been Robin?” she asked gently.
“Uh,” he looked up at Batman, who nodded encouragingly to the small boy. “A few months.”
“And are you enjoying it?”
Robin nodded. “Yeah. It’s fun and we get ta help people.'' This boy had an accent as well, though it was quite different from the first Robin’s.
“That’s wonderful.” Diana said. “We’re excited to work with you, Robin.” the kid beamed, looking like he was having the best day of his life.
“Batman, what the fuck?” Barry exclaimed, ignoring the various looks he got at the curse. “Why did Robin get smaller again?”
“Because I’m a different person.” Robin said.
“But he just replaced the first one like, two years ago!”
“Four, actually.”
“Batman? Could you explain, please?” Diana asked.
They got a grunt in response.
Clark sighed. “Batman, please, can you explain this?”
Robin scoffed. “Are you stupid?”
“Robin.” Batman’s tone had a warning in it.
“There’s nothing to explain.”
A grunt.
“Batman, Robin is a girl.” Hal said, confused and done with the entire thing.
“Is that a problem, fuckface?” The entire League took a step back, surprised by this Robin’s language.
“No, of course not. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Hal said, trying to recover.
Robin huffed before turning back to Batman.
“Language, Robin.” was Batman’s response.
“Oh, come on, I coulda said a whole lot worse.” Her accent reminded Clark of the second Robin’s accent, though more pronounced.
“Tell that to Agent A.”
Robin gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
Batman grunted, though this sounded like one of his amused grunts.
“Fiiine.” She turned to Hal. “I'm sorry for calling you a fuckface.” that got a sigh from Batman.
She turned back to Batman. “Happy?”
Batman grunted again, and while Robin seemed content, Clark and the rest of the league had no idea what it meant.
“Oh my god, this one has a sword!” Hal screeched, running into the meeting room.
“Who does?” Diana asked, standing.
“Robin! Batman got a new one and he has a sword! He tried to stab me!”
“If I had tried to stab you, you would have been stabbed.” a small voice said from the doorway.
Everyone looked over to find Robin, scowling and glaring at all of them.
“He looks just like Batman.” Barry whispered, and Clark agreed. The boy in front of them had an uncanny similarity to Batman.
“Of course I look like him, I’m his son.” Robin snapped, and there were various gasps around the room.
“His son?” Barry’s pitch was high enough that Clark winced.
“Yes.”
“Robin.” Batman appeared behind Robin, frowning at the small boy and looking more annoyed then concerned. “Please don’t stab them. They are our allies, not our enemies.”
Robin looked annoyed, glaring at the Justice League. “Fine.”
“Go sit.” Batman said, nudging the boy towards a chair.
Clark looked up when the computer whirred to life.
“Recognized, Nightwing, B-0-1. Recognized, Red Robin, B-0-3. Recognized, Spoiler, B-0-4. Recognized, Robin, B-0-5.”
Clark stood and walked over to the zeta tube, staring at the four people that stepped out.
“Hey, Supes!”
“Who are you?” he asked, confused.
“We’re-” the one in black and blue started, but was interrupted by the one in red.
“We’re looking for Batman. It’s an emergency.” he stated, matter of fact. “Where is he?”
Clark hesitated. He didn’t know these people or how they got into the tower to begin with, but he wasn’t keen on taking them to Batman.
He didn’t have time to make a decision before the zeta tube started again.
“Recognized, Red Hood, B-0-2.”
He knew that Red Hood was a crime lord, how was the computer recognizing him?
“Where’s B?” Hood asked as soon as he was through.
“We’re still working on that.”
Hood groaned. “What part of ‘emergency’ did you not understand?”
The person dressed in purple scoffed. “We just got here and Superman is in the way. You wanna fight Superman?”
Hood looked over at Clark. “Hi.”
“Hi. What’s going on?”
“We need Batman. Got a bit of an emergency.”
Clark frowned and looked down at Robin. “Robin, what is going on? Who are these people?”
Robin scoffed. “Hood and Red Robin both informed you of what is going on, Superman. I didn’t know you were that dense.”
At least he knew the name of one of the new ones.
“Alright. Just, stay here, okay?”
“Fine.” Robin snapped, looking annoyed.
Clark went over to the chair he’d been in and hit the intercom. “Batman, you’re needed by the zeta tubes.”
A few minutes later, Batman appeared. When he saw the assortment of vigilantes, he sighed loudly.
“What happened?” he asked, sounding tired.
“We are being attacked by aliens.” the one in purple said.
Clark frowned and Batman shook his head.
“So you came up here to tell me instead of using the coms? Why?”
“Well, the com lines are down.” Hood said. “So yes, we came up here.”
“B, we really need to go take care of the aliens. Can we go?” the one in black and blue asked.
“Yes. Go, I’ll be down in a minute.” Batman said, still just sounding mildly inconvenienced instead of like someone who was just informed of an alien invasion.
As soon as they were all gone, Clark rounded on Batman. “What the hell? Who are they?”
Batman grunted. “Notify the rest of the League, then get down there.” he walked away, and left through the zeta tube.
Clark sighed and did as Batman had asked.
“Will you explain this now?” Clark asked, waving at the group of vigilantes that all said they worked with Batman, despite the League only knowing about Robin.
Batman just grunted and Clark was about to lose it, but then Batman said, “Robin.”
Clark stopped. “Huh?”
“Nightwing was the first Robin, Hood the second, Red Robin the third, and Spoiler the fourth. Orphan was never Robin, but she was Batgirl. Signal is new and has only ever been Signal.
“What the fuck?” Barry exclaimed. “I thought they all died!”
Hood raised his hand. “I did die.”
Batman sighed at that.
“Did he really?” Clark asked.
“Yes. But he’s fine now.”
“Am I?”
Batman groaned.
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mrsbarnesblog · 8 months
Text
Push him
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR manager! Reader
Summary: When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you.
Word count: 6.8K
Warnings: smut, bucky is obsessed with your short skirts, bucky is recovering, grumpy x sunshine, good friend natasha romanoff, office sex, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names
Author's note: ‼️so if you haven't seen my previous post, this is my new account. you may have seen this work on my old one (@inmyicyworld) but it was terminated and @support doesn't respond to me. please, follow and share this work. I'm going to reupload all of my old fanfics and hope to get your support ❤️
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The work at the Avengers Tower wasn’t what you expected it to be. Tony Stark found you while you were working for another company a little bit more than a month ago. He was amazed by the way you were dealing with problems, by your charisma, and by your ability to find a common language with everyone. That’s how he knew that he had to have you as his partner and a part of the team.
The next day, you got a call directly from Tony, asking you to quit your job and accept his offer to work as Avenger’s PR manager. It would be an understatement to say that your jaw dropped to the floor when you heard your salary.
He said that you were totally worth it and that working with a group of such different people was not easy, but he was sure that you would be perfect at this. So on that exact day, you decided to take a risk and accept the challenge.
One thing that you hated about your previous job was the strict dress code. It was simply far from your style because you hated wearing the same basic and boring clothes every day. Tony said that it was the last thing that he cared about, and in that building, no one was obligated to wear certain clothes.
You knew that it was your lucky ticket.
He was actually really friendly and funny in person. You talked a lot during your first day while he was showing you all the necessary places in the tower: your office, his lab, common rooms and kitchens, avenger’s rooms, and even a beautiful garden on the roof. By the way, Tony allowed you to decorate your office however you wanted and gave you the number of the person who was responsible for this.
In short, it was perfect.
You were giddy with excitement on your first actual day of work. According to the plan, you had to meet with the Avengers and then arrange a few meetings for Tony.
It felt like you spent hours before your mirror deciding what to wear. Your whole room was a mess, and when you finally completed your look, which consisted of a short black skirt, beige long sleeve and a brown leather jacket on top, it was already time to go.
Everyone in the room heard you before they saw you because of the sound of your heels clicking on the wood floor.
“Don’t tell me that this is our PR manager, Stark.” Black Widow looked you up and down with a smirk on her face. “You look good, hun. Finally, someone with a taste in this boring group of losers, besides me and Wanda, of course.”
“Hi.” You nicely smiled, not ready to get a compliment as soon as you stepped into the room.
“Ohh, she’s also the sweet one.” Another red-headed woman, Wanda, said with a smile.
“You both, shut up.” Tony stood up from the armchair with a pack of chips in one hand and threw the other one over your shoulder. “Want some?” He asked you, showing the food, but you slightly shook your head. “Whatever… Now, you all listen here, this is Y/N; she’s our new PR manager. I stole her from someone because she’s incredibly smart and good at her job. Starting from this moment, she’s going to cover up your asses and organize all this stupid media stuff.” You blushed at his words but were still silent. “So, this is Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Bucky, and Th—wait, you already know them, right?”
“Yeah, of course I do.” You chuckled. “By the way, it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope we can work together, and I will have a chance to be helpful.” You took a look at all the Avengers in the room, and everyone looked at you with a smile except one person, whose eyes sent shivers down your spine.
When you looked at Bucky, you saw that his eyes were scanning your body with an unreadable expression, and you suddenly felt really weird in your short skirt. Your eyes met, and his famous death stare was really quite scary. He didn’t like you? You two were staring at each other for a few seconds, and you believe that the rest of the team noticed it because Steve loudly cleared his throat to get your attention.
He asked you a few questions about you, and Clint and Sam made a few jokes. Everything was fine as you all chatted for a little bit until Tony said that everyone should get ready for tomorrow’s mission, and you too have a lot to do.
You went back to your office only with the thought that, during this whole time, Bucky was staring at you like he wanted to burn a hole in your head.
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Later that day, Bucky was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of already-cold coffee while Steve was making himself dinner. It was quiet besides the sound of the cooking food, or at least Bucky didn’t listen to Steve’s words because he was too deep in his thoughts.
Well, he was mostly thinking about you and his mixed feelings about this interaction. As soon as you walked into the room, you had his whole attention. He couldn’t help but stare at your body, at your open legs, and at your smiley face. He knew that he sounded like a total creep and that it was inappropriate to look at other people this way, but he had never seen women dress this way. Was it normal right now? Was it new fashion trends or something? The only women that he had been interacting with for the past few years were women from Wakanda, and in the tower it was mostly Nat and Wanda, and he had never seen them dress like that. Or, at least, he just didn’t care enough to notice it.
When he saw you today, he felt something in him, and he didn’t like that feeling. It was something new, something that he had never experienced before, but his body became tense and his stomach tightened. It was weird.
“What, you're still trying to process her?” He was distracted from his thoughts by Sam, who came to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Bucky looked at him and furrowed his brows when he saw a shitty smirk.
“What the fuck are you talking about? And why are you smiling like an idiot?” Bucky growled.
“Because you’re thinking about Y/N.” His words caught Steve’s attention, and he came closer.
“That’s why you two were staring at each other like that?” Steve said this while drying his hands with a towel. “Do you like her? I think she seems cute.”
“No, I don’t. She just looks... different.”
“Oh, the old man got excited by the beautiful woman and her short skirt.” Sam’s smile got even wider as he started teasing Bucky. “You know, I wanted to ask her out, but I can take a step back if you like her.” He leaned on the table so he could get under Bucky’s skin even more.
“I do not like her.”
“So you’re okay if I ask her out? Maybe I should go to her office right now.” Sam pretended like he was really thinking about this.
“Sam...” Steve said.
“You both are just getting on my fucking nerves.” Bucky’s chair almost fell to the floor when he angrily stood up. “Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care about you or her.” With these words, he stormed out of the room, and Sam started to laugh out loud.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Steve shook his head like a disappointed mother whose kids always fight.
“That was fun, and maybe it’ll push him to ask her out. She’s hot, but not my type; I’m just trying to help this idiot.”
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You have been working with the Avengers for over a month now. This work was literally a dream from any angle. You were making a lot of money, doing the job that you really liked, and found a lot of close friends.
Almost everyone on the team was very close to you. Natasha and Wanda were particularly your best friends. Sam was the funniest person you’ve ever met, and he always found time to tease you or to make a compliment. Bruce and Clint were like your uncles—a little bit old and annoying, but always with a piece of advice for you. A few times, you and Steve met at the gym when you came to work too early, so he was happy to train with you. Who would’ve thought that Captain America himself would teach you how to throw a punch?
The only pain in your ass was Bucky Barnes. Well, to be fair, he didn’t do anything. You’re not even sure that you heard his voice. He was always just staring. Any time that you came to the room and he was there, you either saw him from the corner of your eyes or felt his burning gaze on your back.
To this day, you had no problems with your job. You organized a few interviews for Tony and Steve, talked to the newspapers and magazines, and held some meetings, but right now, sitting on your white chair, you felt weirdly nervous.
Bucky had to come here any minute to talk about a recent accident. Apparently, he almost knocked out someone on the street. All the press and news sources were taking advantage of the situation and using loud headlines to cast a shadow on Bucky and get more views. “The Winter Soldier is back?”. “The Winter Soldier almost killed an innocent man on the street.”
It has been the biggest topic on the internet for the past few hours. Most of the people were furious and wrote too many inappropriate and rude things. So you asked FRIDAY to call Bucky so you could know the whole situation and give comments to the press as soon as possible.
You started thinking about what you should do, or, to be more honest, how to behave around Bucky, because a few days ago two red-headed women that you now considered your best friends assured you that he is in love with you and just doesn't know what to do with it.
You told them everything about his weird actions—that he always looked at you, checked your clothes, and stayed silent. Natasha and Wanda just looked at each other with smirks on their faces.
“Why are you looking at each other like that?” You arched an eyebrow and crossed your hands across your chest.
“Please, don't tell me that you don't understand his behavior.” Natasha looked at you and sipped her coffee.
Well, I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew the reason.”
“Honey, he lust likes you and thinks that you’re hot. You remember that he’s actually an old man, right? Women from his time didn’t dress like that, and you look really sexy.” Wanda’s words made Nat nod her head as you looked weirdly at both of them.
“That’s bullshit, Wanda. This can’t be true. I'm sure that he just doesn’t like me and thinks that I look too revealing. Or he just hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time.”
“Some time ago, I came to the kitchen at like 2 a.m. just in my lingerie because I thought everyone was asleep. Barnes was sitting there with a book, and you know what? He just said “Hi” and didn’t even look at me again while I was making a sandwich. And when he sees you, he just can’t take his eyes away and stares like an idiot.”
You stayed silent, thinking about the girls' words, because everything seemed pretty reasonable.
“And what should I do?”
“I don’t know, seduce him or something.” Natasha just casually said it, and your eyebrows flew to your hairline.
“Wait, do you like him?” Wanda asked you, and Natasha huffed like it was obvious.
“I mean… he’s beautiful. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, but Steve and Sam love him, and I trust their opinion.” You stopped trying to put together your thoughts. “To be honest, sometimes I think about the fact that he’s probably one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. When we studied history at school, all the girls fell in love with America's Boy, and I with his best friend.”
“Then don’t wait. Just give him some hints, because I swear, for the ladies’ man, he’s too slow.” Natasha’s words made you smile. “Try to get closer to him; I don’t know, flash him with your boobs and look at the reaction. Push him a little bit. He’ll break.”
The loud knock on the door almost made you jump out of your chair.
“Come in.” You said this as you stood up and fixed your white dress and cardigan.
Bucky came probably to the lightest and most cozy room in the whole tower. A lot of white and pastel colors, comfy sofa and armchairs, and paintings on the wall. And in the middle of this was you—always perfectly looking, in heels, in a too-short dress, and with a smile on your face. He couldn't stop himself from looking at the smooth skin of your legs. It’s probably so soft...
“Em– Hi.” You awkwardly stood while his eyes were scanning your body. He didn’t answer; he just nodded. “So I think that we can sit there, it’s more comfortable.” You wave your hand at the sofa with a fluffy cover on it. “Do you want anything? Tea, coffee, water, soda?” Bucky just shook his head while he was trying to comfortably sit with a frown on his face.
You deeply inhaled while trying to be a professional. You didn’t know what was wrong with this man, but his behavior started to get on your nerves.
“Bucky, we can’t work together if you keep ignoring me. You can say if you don’t like something, because I don’t want to be on bad terms with anyone.” You sat across from him and crossed your legs.
“I don’t know what I should say.” His deep voice filled the room. Bucky took a pillow that was lying near him and started playing with the fringe. “I feel weird when I’m around you, and I don’t like it. I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have.” His eyes scanned your body once again, and you wondered if he was talking about what you thought.
“Can I do something to change it?”
“No.” He deeply inhaled. “It’s my own problem, and it’s not your job to try to fix it. Anyway, why am I here?”
“I think you know why. I need to ask you about the recent incident because I have a meeting with the press in less than an hour, and I have to give them a good reason why you did that. People didn’t take all that information too well.” You saw that Bucky sadly smiled and looked you directly in the eyes, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “So, tell me what’s happened.”
“You know that whatever you say won’t change people’s opinions about me, right? No one forgave me, and they’re still looking for a chance to call me a murderer.” He tried to hide behind a smile, but you saw everything written in his eyes. Bucky hurt himself with his own words.
“I understand how you feel about this whole situation, but we should address all those rumors because things might get worse.” You leaned on your knees with your hands, and Bucky’s eyes immediately fell on your boobs.
Push him a little bit. He’ll break.
You tried to hold back a smirk.
“Fuck.” He mumbled. “ I– um– I was walking from the coffee shop to the tower. It was another busy street with hundreds of people, but I still didn’t expect someone to touch me. That man jumped on my back or something, and my instincts just worked. I threw him over myself on the ground and put a hand on his throat. Turned out he wanted to take a picture. But I panicked because there are many people who want to take revenge and who might want to do it literally any second. I’m always ready for this.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but you could hear the pain in his voice.
You felt deeply sorry for the man before you. Even if he was cold and acted weird around you, you knew that it was his way to protect himself. After everything he came through, you couldn’t blame him.
“Do you still go to the therapist?” You gently asked.
“Yes, two times a week.” Bucky nervously ran his right hand through his hair while still holding your pillow in the metal one.
“Okay, that’s good; I can work with this information.” You nodded and reached for your journal on the coffee table. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Bucky. I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to convince people that it was not your fault, okay?”
“Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky stood up, carefully putting your pillow in its place, and left your office without another word, while you were sitting there with a smile.
Maybe the girls were right.
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After that day, everything between you and Bucky became even weirder. Yes, he wasn’t totally silent now, and you’ve got a few “Hi”, but his stares felt different.
It was like you two were playing some kind of game. Since you knew that he didn’t actually hate you, you tried to do as Natasha and Wanda said—get his attention and push more. And God, you loved that game.
Almost every day you found an opportunity or excuse to see him in common rooms or in the corridors of the Tower, and you made sure that Bucky noticed you. You wore tighter clothes, walked right past him, and looked at him with a smile. You knew that it was working because a few times Bucky just suddenly left the room while he was mumbling something.
It was almost 8 p.m., but you were still working on schedule for the next week. There was some kind of charity event, and Tony required you to convince everyone to go there because more Avengers can attract more sponsors and money. As always, Bucky was the one who refused to go there. He simply sees no reason for him to be there, and he doesn’t want to be there alone because he knows that Captain America will be the biggest star, and such a social butterfly as Sam will leave him in a second.
You decided that it would be better to talk to Bucky in person, but you didn’t want to lose a chance to get his attention, so you went by yourself instead of asking FRIDAY.
You looked in the small mirror to check your makeup and hair and went straight to where you knew Bucky was spending his evening. As you walked in a dark room filled with only light from the TV, you saw Sam and Steve sitting on the couch and Bucky on the armchair near them. You quietly walk to him and just casually sit on the armrest. His eyebrows flew to his hairline, and you heard that the chewing from the boys stopped. Bucky had no choice but to put his metal arm on your lower back.
“I need you in my office. You have to talk about the next charity event. Could you please give me some of your time?” You quietly asked and lowered yourself closer to him. Bucky was just staring at you for a few seconds, but then slightly nodded.
Bucky followed you to your office, not without getting smirks from the boys,and then stood near your table with his hands in his pockets.
“Don’t you want to sit?” You said and stepped closer to him.
“No.”
“Um– okay.” You took the papers from your table and stood in front of Bucky. “So, you know that there is going to be a charity event, and I’m responsible for getting all the Avengers there, and you are one of them.”
“I’m not going, I already told Tony.” He just shrugged.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not needed there. I’m not an actual hero, people have no interest in me, especially when there will be Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor, you know? Plus, I have no interest in sitting alone the whole night.” You saw that Bucky tried to be casual about it, but he just put salt on his own wound.
“Don’t say that, Bucky. There are people who want to see you there, you have a lot of fans. You know, I’m going there too, so if you don't mind, we can–”
“What game are you playing with me?” He interrupted you. Bucky straightened his shoulders, which made him look even bigger, and started moving closer to you, putting you in a trap between him and your desk.
“W– what do you mean?” You couldn't control your body as you started to tremble a little bit from the power that this man had. As soon as you bumped into the table, his hands landed on both sides of you, and his face was right in front of yours.
“Don’t act clueless, Y/N. I see what you’re doing.” He stopped for a second, studying your face. “You know, I tried to convince myself that you do all of this by accident, but now I’m sure that you’re just playing your little game. Am I right, doll?” You two were staring at each other, and you felt almost nauseous from different emotions.
He was so fucking beautiful up close. Piercing blue eyes, pink lips, and light stubble You know why many women thought that James Barnes was charming. If he had more confidence, he would’ve been unstoppable.
Your eyes slowly shifted lower to his arms and chest as you remained silent. He was big, with well-trained muscles that were seen through the tight black t-shirt. Both arms were stretched near you, so you had a really good opportunity to look at the smooth tanned skin and beautiful dark vibranium. You felt how your lower stomach tightened just from the thought of getting those pretty hands on your body…
You were pulled out of your head by a sudden movement of Bucky’s hand, which gripped your face and pushed your lips together. He was obviously dominating in the kiss, as if he were desperate to taste you. The tip of his tongue brushed over your lips, asking for entrance, which you happily gave him. The moan came out of you when Bucky moved away and looked you in the eyes, still holding your face.
“This whole fucking time I thought that I was a creep for looking at you, but now I know that you did everything on purpose, doll.” His eyes moved between your eyes and mouth. “All these short skirts and dresses that almost showed me everything underneath it, all these innocent smiles and looks... You did it to tease me?”
“Not at first...” You mumbled. “But you were acting so weird, and girls said that you liked me and just didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find out whether it was true or not.”
“Fuck, if I knew earlier that this was your plan, I would’ve bent you over the nearest surface, baby.” Bucky moved a little closer, brushing his lips over yours. “Do you know how fucking hot and gorgeous you are? I haven’t felt that way in many, many years. Just wanna kiss you and make you mine.”
“And what’s stopping you from this, Sargent?” You asked with a smile and moved your hand to the back of his neck to gently play with the baby hairs.
“You’re gonna be my death, doll face.” He mumbled before leaning closer and kissing you again.
This time, you started to touch each other's bodies. Bucky’s warm and cold hands landed on your thighs, playing with the hem of the skirt and rubbing your soft skin after he lifted you up a little bit and helped you sit on the table, staying in between your legs. Your own hands were moving up and down his broad chest, discovering all of his muscles.
“Bucky…” You whined into the kiss when his finger brushed against the edge of your already wet panties.
“Tell me.” Bucky moved away from your swollen lips and left a path of kisses down your neck. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” He sucked a sensitive spot under your ear, which made you moan.
“I don’t know. Just do anything, please.” You both breathed heavily. You felt like you were too hot; your lower stomach ached, and your underwear was soaking wet. Bucky was looking at you with such lust in his eyes that you wanted him to destroy you.
“Lay back.” He ordered you as one of his hands went higher under your skirt and slid your black lace panties down your legs. You didn’t miss how Bucky shoved him into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk on his face.
You quickly followed his instructions and just threw all the papers from our table on the floor. You’ll regret it later, but now you don't care. The sudden move of Bucky's metal arm grabbed and pulled your shirt, and all the buttons scattered on the floor, making you gasp in disbelief.
“Bucky! It was expensive.”
“Sorry, I’ll buy you whatever you want, I promise. But now I need to see you all.” He growled and fell to his knees before you. “Fuck, doll, such a pretty pussy. I’m gonna make a mess with her.”
Bucky’s hands grabbed both of your legs and threw them over his shoulders. He dragged your skirt higher, not wanting to take it off of you. His head fell on your right legs as he left a few kisses on your sensitive skin.
“Bucky please! Don’t tease me!” You desperately whined.
“I need a moment to appreciate both of you. I haven’t done it since the 40's, you know that?”
You wanted to say something, but his mouth on your most delicate part of your body left you speechless and made you grab his hair. Bucky’s tongue was gentle at first, just to get a taste of you and tease you a little bit. His tongue started to play with your clit, circling it and applying different pressures to find out what made your body twitch. It looked like he was enjoying it too; you felt deep grunts escaping his mouth as he was trying to catch every drop that came out of you.
Your loud moans filled the room as Bucky found the perfect place and made motions that made you see stars. A hand in his hair tightened even more when you felt one of his fingers at your entrance.
“M-hm, so wet and tight for me.” He pulled away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers came in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were firmly glued to your pussy, which was trying to get more, and his mouth opened a little bit at the sight. “Taking my fingers like a good girl.” Bucky attacked you with his mouth again. This time he was licking your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. When the feeling of his nose touching your bundle of nerves came through your whole body, you gripped Bucky’s dark locks even harder, particularly trying to ride his face, and he had to put his metal hand on your hips so you wouldn’t move.
Your body tensed when he curled his fingers right on your g-spot, sucking your clit like a hungry man.
“Bucky—fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop!” You whined with tears running down your face.
A few more movements of his magical mouth, and you fell over the edge. Your legs tightened around his head, tingles went all over your body, and the loudest moan mixed with Bucky’s name came out of you as you were riding on the wave of your orgasm.
Bucky didn’t stop, though.
He made sure to lick every drop that came out of you, to the point that you had to beg him to stop because you were too sensitive.
“That was—“ You were trying to catch a breath. “That was the best orgasm I've ever had, oh my god. If you did it for the first time in like seventy years, I can’t imagine what you can do with practice.”
Bucky dragged you up by your neck, so you would be at the same level with him. His hand moved your hips closer to the edge of the table, and you felt how hard he was through those jeans.
“I can practice whenever you’ll allow me, doll.” He put his warm hand on your face to kiss you. The taste of your own release on his tongue made you moan.
“Need you inside of me, please.” Your hands automatically started to pull up his shirt, but he stopped you.
“We don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.”
You were silent for a few seconds. “Why wouldn’t I want to take your shirt off?”
“You know, my arm and scars...”
“Do you really think that I care about it?” You left a few kisses on his cheek. “I think that your arm is hot, by the way, and I want to feel your skin on mine, Sarge.” It was enough for Bucky to pull off his shirt and stay before you half-naked.
Your hands moved to trace every muscle, every birthmark, and every scar on his chest, and you felt that this moment was so intimate, especially because of Bucky’s stare. He looked at you with such adoration and softness that you wanted to melt.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” He mumbled and kissed you with even more passion.
Bucky ripped off the rest of your shirt and quickly took off your matching black bra, gripping your breasts with both hands and taking your left nipple in his hot mouth.
You dug nails into Bucky’s back as he was sucking and licking your nipples, leaving them wet in the cold air. It felt good. So fucking good—his mouth was truly amazing. But the emptiness inside of you was almost painful, and you were clenching around nothing.
“Bucky! Sarge, please, I need you.” You almost cried and dragged his head by the hair back to your mouth.
“Baby, baby, wait– “ His hot breath was touching your lips, but he stopped your hands, which were unbuckling his belt. “Baby, I don’t have a condom. Fuck, do you have one?”
“We don’t have to use it... I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” Your legs wrapped tighter around Bucky’s waist and put him closer to your naked core. He swore that he could feel your heat through his jeans and boxers.
“Fuck, I love twenty-first century... I’m clean too, can’t even catch a disease with this serum shit.”
His words were like a green light to you. You didn’t want to wait even a second more. So you just took off his pants with such speed and impatience that it made Bucky chuckle. With the last movement, all of his clothes were on the floor, and you sat on your table, frozen because of the sight before you.
Bucky’s thick and perfectly long dick was the best fucking thing that you’ve ever seen. Pink and a little bit curled to his abdomen. Your mouth watered just thinking about tasting it. Or how well he’ll stretch you out. You didn’t even notice how your mouth opened a little bit, and you unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.
“You’re gonna destroy me, Bucky.” You mumbled, to which you heard only a deep chuckle. Your eyes moved back to Bucky’s smiley face.
“I hope so.”
Two different hands landed on your thighs again, spreading and lifting them up. You both looked down at where his cock almost touched your bare folds, and the first contact made you moan loudly. Bucky took the base of his cock, giving himself a few pumps, and moved the tip up and down your pussy, moving easily because of the mixture of your juices.
You grabbed his forearm and whined at the action.
“Ready, doll?” He was trying to be tough and strong, but you saw how he nervously licked his lips, the tremble of his flesh hand, and the tension in his abdomen. But you still vigorously nodded.
It was different from everything you’ve ever experienced. He was big but tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt you. He only pushed a few inches, but you already wanted to cry from all the feelings inside of you. Pain mixed with extreme pleasure.
Bucky was trying so hard to control his motions and go slow, but God, it wasn’t easy. From the first touch of his cock, it felt like he had gone to heaven. He knew that sex was good, he remembers it, but the feeling of you and your warm body that so gracefully greeted him inside made him feral. Bucky felt such a need to kiss you that it was almost painful, especially when your swollen lips were a few inches away from his.
He leaned in closer to your lips, but it made him slip deeper into you, which made you both loudly moan into each other's mouths.
“Fuck– doll, you’re so warm and tight, oh my god.” Bucky mumbled as the grip on your hips became harder. It’ll probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care.
The feeling of him inside of you was overwhelming. He was so deep and stretched you just the way that you wanted, and you almost cried from pleasure.
“Please, Bucky, please move!”
His hips slightly moved once, and it felt like his mood instantly changed. You were suddenly pushed back on your table, and your legs, still in heels, were thrown on Bucky’s shoulders. His metal hand stayed on your thigh, and the other one fell on your stomach to push your skirt higher on your waist.
“All dressed up for me, baby.” He started slowly moving, burying his cock deep inside, and then leaving only the tip to tease you. “You know how long I wanted to do that, huh? Bend you over and just fuck the shit out of you until you can’t say anything except for my name.”
“Bucky– Sarge, please go faster. Just fuck me, do whatever you want.” You were desperate, yes. But you couldn't help but beg, because you really needed him to keep his promise and fuck the shit out of you.
You reached for his hand on your stomach and interlaced your fingers together.
“If you keep calling me that, I won’t last too long, doll.” His thrusts became harder and faster as your body moved up and down on your table.
Bucky was looking at your drunk-looking face with a slightly open mouth because you couldn’t keep your moans quiet. Your hair was deshiveled, your skin glimmered with sweat, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.
“So beautiful, baby.” Bucky murmured, fucking you harder. The room was filled with loud noises from slapping skin and moans. “You love it when I talk to you like that, huh? Want me to tell you what a good girl you are?” His words definitely did something to you, and you unconsciously tightened around him. “Almost choking my cock, baby, fu-u-ck.”
“Mhm, Sargent, I’m so full of you.” You couldn’t see straight as the tip of his head pressed at the perfect spot with every thrust, it was too much and not enough at the same time.
The wet kisses on the inner side of your thigh sent shivers down your whole body when Bucky started to suck tender skin. His rough movement didn’t stop for a moment, and you knew that your orgasm was getting closer. The warm feeling in your belly slowly became bigger. It was hard for you to cum from sex, but Bucky did it so fast and without even touching your clit.
“C’mon, doll face. I feel ‘ya. Feel how your perfect little pussy is squeezing me. Cum with me, baby, cum on my cock.” His movements were still rough and confident, but you felt the slightest change in the way he was looking at you, how his body trembled a little bit, and the prettiest quiet noises escaped his mouth as Bucky was coming to his own end.
You were completely lost in your pleasure, with strong arms on your body and Bucky’s hard cock that was completely destroying you, so when fingers on your clit started to move in circles, your body slightly jolted up from your table.
“Bucky, Bucky, please—ohmygod, I’m coming!” You cried out loud and grabbed the hard wood under your arms.
“O-oh, fuck, doll, cum with me, please. Yes, squeeze my cock harder, make a mess. ‘M gonna cum.” With the last few pushes of his dick inside of you and movements of the fingers, you both fell from your heights, and the room filled with loud moans of pleasure. The feeling of his hot seed on your walls almost made you faint.
Bucky fell down on your body as your leg slipped from his shoulder. Two strong arms wrapped around you, and Bucky’s face nuzzled into your neck. You don’t know how long you two stayed silent, trying to catch a breath, while your hands gently rubbed Bucky’s back.
When he finally lifted himself up with a metal arm near your face on the table, the look in his eyes sent millions of butterflies to your stomach.
“I don’t even know what to say…” He chuckled and cupped your face with his right hand. “You look so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”
“Even when my makeup, my hair, and my clothes are completely destroyed?” You playfully arched an eyebrow and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers on your hot skin.
“Well, I did it, and I’m satisfied with it. You still look so hot, especially with my dick still inside of you.”
“Bucky!”
“Sorry, sorry. But I’m serious, though. Will you let me take you on a date? Maybe yesterday for lunch or for dinner after work?” His eyes had this little bit of doubt, and you couldn’t stop your wide smile because he was really thinking that you would say “no” after that.
“I will be glad to go out with you, Buck.” You dragged his face closer and gave him the sweetest kiss you could.
Bucky moved away, gently slipping out of you, and you hissed at the empty feeling. He helped you stand up on your shaking legs and handed you your clothes.
“Fuck, you completely destroyed my clothes.” You said as you were standing in front of the mirror. “How will I go home?”
“You can stay in my room.” Bucky came closer to you and helped you make your blouse look more presentable, even without buttons.
“Really?”
“Of course, doll. Just hold your shirt in case we bump into someone in the corridor, but I think everyone is already in their rooms.” Bucky finished dressing up, and you saw your underwear sticking out of his pocket.
“Don’t you want to give me my panties?”
“Na-ah, you’ll have to walk with me dripping out of you.” He gave you a cocky smile and turned all the lights off before wrapping his arm around you and leading you into the hall.
It was completely empty, but the second that you stepped out of the elevator, you saw Bucky’s best friends looking at you. All of you were looking at each other for a few seconds before Sam started hysterically laughing.
“You owe me fifty bucks, idiot!” He said to Steve, who was as red as a tomato. “Good job, Buckaroo, but I really thought that we were gonna ask her on a date first.”
“Fuck off, Willson.” Bucky growled, protectively stepping forward to protect you from their looks.
“Okay, okay, relax, no one’s touching your girl.” He said with a cocky smile on his face. “Let’s go, Steve. You’re too innocent to look at things like this.” Sam took his friend and led him in another direction.
“Asshole.” Bucky growled.
“Everything is okay, Buck, let’s go.” You stepped closer to his room, but he was still standing in his place. “I have to take a shower. Will you come with me, or will you stand here the whole night?” You smirked.
It was everything he needed to finally get closer to you, scoop you into his arms, and carry you into his room to the sound of laughter, which soon turned into moans.
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sunnami · 8 months
Text
you'd be the love of my life when i was young
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summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.
pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)
tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending
note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)
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They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.
What a load of bullshit.
You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate. 
There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months. 
Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.
Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room. 
And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them. 
Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them. 
(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.) 
Were you dying?
That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees. 
No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends. 
That was absurd. 
You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.
(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”
You huffed. 
Maybe you’d try Severus next. 
Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.
Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)
Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.  
“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?” 
Ba-dump!
Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.” 
Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered. 
Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares. 
(And you were. If only you knew.)
“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius. 
Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”
“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.” 
“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.” 
You didn’t like it.
You didn’t like it at all.
Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”
“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.
James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.” 
“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.
“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.” 
Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins. 
(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.) 
Something stirred deep in your belly. 
You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”
People could get the wrong idea.
You could get the wrong idea.
“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” 
It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.
You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.” 
“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.” 
“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head. 
“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.
“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.” 
They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart. 
James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily. 
“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat. 
“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.” 
“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words. 
“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder. 
“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.” 
You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression. 
(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)
“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)
But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.
“I’m fine.”
As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization. 
You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends. 
And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship. 
Who were you to get in the way of that?
They would understand, you convinced yourself. 
They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace. 
But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise. 
If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it. 
Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs. 
It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests. 
(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.” 
You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.” 
“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.” 
“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.
“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”
“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.” 
Oh.
You were well and truly screwed. 
“Thanks,” You croaked.)
But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses. 
(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?” 
You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”
Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”
“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.” 
Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”
But only the wind replied.
Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat. 
“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.” 
You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.” 
“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?” 
Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone. 
You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”
It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too. 
You didn’t go to his match later that day.
It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)
Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own. 
You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”
“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook. 
Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”
You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!” 
“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.” 
“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”
Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.” 
“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.” 
“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.
Still, you missed them. 
“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”
Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”
You cried louder. 
“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”
Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”
Narcissa glared at him.
Lucius raised his arms in surrender. 
Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?” 
You nodded weakly. “I love them.”
“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?” 
“I love them!” You hiccuped.
“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.” 
“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob. 
Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.” 
“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much. 
“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.” 
Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready. 
Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes. 
Did you have a place with them? 
You were about to find out.
“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.
(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.) 
“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you. 
Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you. 
Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”
You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”
But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month. 
A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist. 
“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain. 
 (You made him feel unafraid of the moon.) 
“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”
“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this. 
“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested. 
“Because you don’t feel the same.” 
The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. 
You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along. 
“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”
“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”
“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.
James only smiled, stealing your third kiss. 
Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory. 
(You were art that he wanted to worship.)
He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”
He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.” 
“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.” 
You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.” 
Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.” 
You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.” 
Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?” 
You nodded. “P-Please.”
Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.” 
He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips. 
Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath. 
You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you. 
“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.” 
Then, Lily captured your lips with her own. 
She tasted like happy endings.
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note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.
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