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slut4kwon · 2 days ago

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if you were anyone else

pairing: kwon jiyong x fem! reader

synopsis: you’re his best friend’s little sister. it was never supposed to mean anything, but now he can’t forget the way she looked at him like it did. and that’s the problem. because wanting her was already a mistake, but letting her go might be worse.

warnings: 18+, implied sexual content, swearing, angst, secret relationship, brother’s best friend trope, emotionally repressed men™, jealousy, regret, unresolved feelings, possessive behavior, emotionally charged spirals, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, slight praise kink, yearning so intense it physically hurts.

authors note: this is my first time posting on here, so… go easy on me. or don’t. i probably won’t sleep either way. also this is long as fuck i am so sorry. if you read it, thank you. if you liked it, even better. if you’re here just for the angst, me too.

you should’ve known it would get messy the first time he kissed you.

it wasn’t sweet. it wasn’t slow.

it happened behind the wardrobe rack in one of the yg dressing rooms, thirty minutes before a run-through while the crew scrambled to fix a lighting issue.

you were in a sports bra and sweatpants, makeup half-finished, second-day curls falling effortlessly down your back.

he was in his usual all-black rehearsal outfit, a silver chain at his collarbone, and something unreadable behind his eyes.

“you’re not supposed to look at me like that,” he muttered, jaw tense, gaze fixed on yours.

you crossed your arms. “i’m not looking at you like anything.”

he stepped in closer. “you keep doing those little moves. the ones you know drive me fucking crazy.”

“you mean the choreography?” you shot back, lifting a brow. “i’m literally just doing my job.”

“that thing in the second chorus,” he said, his voice lower now. “when you drop low and bite your lip. you do that for me. don’t lie, beautiful.”

you rolled your eyes, but your breath caught when he moved again. closer, slower, deliberate.

“you want me to lose it, don’t you?”

you didn’t answer. couldn’t.

because the way he looked at you was hungry. frustrated. like he’d been holding something back for far too long. it lit something dangerous inside you.

before you could even speak, his mouth was on yours.

hot. desperate. possessive.

your back hit the wall. his hands gripped your waist.

your fingers curled into his shirt like it was an instinct.

his tongue, his hands, the way he groaned when you tugged his hair. everything about it was messy.

and it didn’t stop there.

the backstage hookups became a pattern. between rehearsals. after fittings. corners of the studio with fogged mirrors and locked doors.

always hidden. always rushed. always too much but somehow never enough.

you gave him your first time on the studio couch, the same one you always collapsed on after long nights.

not out of romance, but something heavier. needier.

your legs wrapped around his waist. your fingers in his hair like you were clinging to gravity.

and he let you.

let you take. let you tremble.

let you come undone in his lap while his mouth traced your collarbone like a promise he’d never speak out loud.

no one knew about this.

not the stylists. not the other dancers. not even his own bandmates.

and especially not seunghyun.

your older brother would’ve lost his mind. maybe even burned the whole building down if he ever found out.

because of course, out of all the people in the world, it had to be him.

kwon jiyong.

his best friend. his closest friend.

the one person who had no business even looking at you like that; let alone touching you, wanting you, needing you.

and yet somehow, he was always there.

for months, you told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

that the way he touched you like he needed you — like breathing wasn’t enough unless you were under him, around him, full of him — was just part of the act.

that the way he lingered after, brushing hair from your face like it mattered, wasn’t real either.

you told yourself you could handle it.

that you were strong enough to keep it casual. quiet. hidden.

but it got harder to lie every time he pulled you in and didn’t let go.

every time he stayed a little longer.

every time he looked at you like maybe, just maybe, you were more than a secret.

still, you never asked for more. how could you?

he was your brother’s best friend. this was never supposed to happen.

but it did.

over and over again. like a bad habit neither of you could quit.

you didn’t plan to fall for him. didn’t mean to hope he’d stay the night, or kiss you like it meant something.

but you did. god, of course you did.

i mean, how could you not?

he touched you like you were fragile, but fucked you like you were the only thing that’s ever made him come undone.

he zipped up your jacket for you like it was just an excuse to touch you again.

he continuously found your eyes across any room like they were the only ones that existed.

for a while, you let yourself believe he felt it too.

until about a month ago, when he decided that pretending it meant nothing became easier than admitting it ever meant anything at all.

it happened in your dressing room. you’d just touched up your lip gloss, and casually asked him if he was coming over that night.

same routine. same rhythm.

he didn’t answer right away though. he just stood there, still and silent.

you turned, confused, watching the way his jaw clenched and how he couldn’t quite meet your eyes.

“jiyong?” you spoke up quietly.

he finally looked at you.

and you knew. before he even opened his mouth, you felt it.

“we can’t keep doing this.”

your stomach still dropped. “what?”

“this… whatever it is… it needs to stop.”

“don’t do that. don’t act like this wasn’t real.”

his jaw tightened as he looked away. “it was a mistake.”

“say it and mean it,” you snapped.

he didn’t hesitate this time. “it was a mistake.”

your laugh came out sharp, bitter. “tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, but don’t stand there and pretend that i didn’t mean a damn thing to you.”

“y/n—” he started, but you cut him off.

“fuck you, jiyong.”

he met your eyes again, his throat tight.

almost like he wanted to say something else. like it was stuck somewhere between his ribs and his pride.

but he didn’t answer. he just let the silence grow between you.

let it choke everything that hadn’t been said. let it mean more than the truth would’ve.

“i’m sorry.” he finally said.

not a reason. not an explanation.

just that. two words. and then he walked out.

no goodbye. no chance to respond. no space to fall apart.

just the door clicking shut behind him like none of it had ever meant anything. like you had never meant anything.

the worst part wasn’t even the way it ended.

it was how nothing else did.

rehearsals still ran long. the mirrors still fogged with sweat. the playlist still cycled through the same tracks you used to hum when you thought no one could hear you.

he was always there. of course he was.

not in the way that mattered though. not in the way you needed. just in the way that somehow made it worse.

that same smirk. same swagger. same easy charm that made everyone else feel like nothing had changed.

like he hadn’t ruined you with nothing but his mouth and a handful of whispered promises he never intended to keep.

he still showed up to rehearsals like none of it ever happened.

he still carried his favourite hoodie. the one he never left home without.

everyone thought it was a comfort thing; a habit, maybe. something worn-in and familiar. assumed he just loved it.

and maybe he did. but it wasn't because it was warm, or soft, or broken in just right.

it was because it was yours.

he never carried it for himself. he carried it for you.

you never brought your own.

you hated feeling cold, and hated asking for help even more.

but with jiyong, you never had to ask. he paid attention to the way you’d rub slow circles into your arm, tuck your hands under your thighs, sometimes even press your tongue to the roof of your mouth just to stay quiet.

tiny things. things no one else could ever pick up on.

and yet somehow, he always did.

you never had to ask. he’d just offer it. sometimes with just a glance, sometimes with a soft, “here.”

and if you ever hesitated, he’d pull it over your head himself. like he was allowed to. like it meant something.

the other boys never questioned it. of course they didn’t. they would’ve done the same. they had before, on the rare days jiyong wasn’t around. but when he was, they never got the chance.

but now, he wears it again like it doesn't hold your scent. your shape. every version of you he ever pulled close. like it's just a hoodie.

however, this didn't stop you from showing up to rehearsals every day too.

because that’s what professionals do, right?

they show up, even when it hurts.

even when the person they can’t stop dreaming about is stretching ten feet away.

still laughing with everyone like he wasn’t one secret away from getting his jaw broken by your older brother.

there was no wreckage. no huge fall-out. just absence.

no one knew what had been taken because nothing, on the surface, was missing.

but you felt it. in every glance he didn’t give you. every touch that didn’t happen, but almost did.

and you were angry.

angry that he ended it without warning. angry that he made that decision for the both of you. angry that he could walk away without looking back.

you were angry at yourself for still caring.

you hated that your eyes searched for him when you entered the room. that your skin remembered him better than your brain wanted it to. how some part of you still wished he’d turn around and take it all back.

but he never did. not once.

rehearsal had run longer than usual today. the sun had dipped somewhere behind the city skyline without you noticing. shadows were now stretching across the floor as the studio emptied, one by one.

you stayed behind, stretching in silence, letting the burn in your muscles distract from the burn in your chest.

you suddenly heard your brother’s loud voice, which snapped you out of whatever trance you were in. “dinner. let’s go.”

you didn’t even blink. still stretched out on the floor, one leg bent and arms braced behind you. “pass.”

seunghyun frowned. “you didn’t even ask where.”

“don’t need to,” you said coolly. “you’re painfully predictable.”

daesung raised a brow. “she’s got you there.”

“actually, i’m switching it up tonight,” seunghyun insisted. “new place. no kimchi stew.”

you finally looked up, unimpressed. “who’s paying you to try their new restaurant?”

he crossed his arms. “no one. i just think you need some real food in you. something with protein. maybe even a vegetable.”

“tempting,” you said, standing up and stretching your arms over your head. “but i can’t. i’ve got plans.”

“plans?” seunghyun’s voice cracked like he’d just heard you say you were moving out and never coming back.

you grabbed your water. “yep.”

“what kind of plans?”

“the kind that don’t include you,” you said, smiling sweetly.

youngbae’s head popped up from behind his duffel. “wait. are we talking… plans plans?”

you just sipped your water like it was nothing, which, naturally, made it something.

daesung narrowed his eyes. “that look. that’s a ‘plans with a boy’ look if i’ve ever seen one.”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to. it was more entertaining to watch them spiral on their own.

youngbae gasped. “you’re going on a date.”

“jesus christ,” seunghyun muttered. “no you’re not.”

“i didn’t say that,” you replied, smoothing your hair down.

“but you didn’t not say it.”

you gave the smallest shrug, which, unfortunately, said everything, once again.

youngbae gasped like he’d been betrayed. “you’re seeing someone? since when?”

“relax,” you said, throwing your towel over your shoulder. “you’re acting like i announced an engagement.”

“it’s hard to relax when you’re acting suspiciously vague,” daesung countered.

“which means it’s serious,” youngbae added while nodding. “you’re protecting him.”

you raised a brow. “or i’m protecting you idiots from a full-blown meltdown.”

seunghyun squinted. “who is it?”

“none of your business.”

“it is absolutely my business if some dude is out here making googly eyes at my baby sister behind my back!”

“googly eyes?” you echoed, half-laughing. “what are we, twelve?”

“i’m being serious, y/n.”

“i can tell, oppa. very intimidating.”

“is it someone we know?” daesung asked. “because i feel like it’s someone we know.”

“you don’t know him.” you replied, which wasn’t technically a lie.

there was no him. but they didn’t need to know that.

especially not the one sitting on the bench near the mirror, completely silent.

jiyong hadn’t said a word. hadn’t even moved.

just sat there with his towel around his neck, and his eyes on the floor.

but you saw the tension in his hands. the way his jaw was set so tightly, it looked like it hurt.

and it gave you just enough fuel to keep going.

seunghyun was still spiraling. “i don’t like this. what if he’s some asshole? what if he’s just trying to—”

“then i’ll deal with it,” you replied calmly. “i’m perfectly capable of throwing hands.”

“still don’t like it.”

“you’re not supposed to, oppa.”

and that’s when jiyong spoke. low. dismissive. deadly.

“just let her go.”

everyone turned.

seunghyun blinked. “huh?”

“if she’s got plans, she’s got plans,” jiyong said. not looking at you. not looking at anyone. “it’s not our business.”

“oh, wow,” daesung muttered. “traitor.”

“you’re not even gonna try to talk her out of it?” seunghyun asked, almost sounding dumbfounded.

“she’s allowed to do whatever she wants,” jiyong replied, tossing the towel aside like the whole conversation bored him. “if it’s a date, then…let her have fun.”

you said nothing. you just stared at him.

and after a long second, he finally looked up, just for a heartbeat. just long enough to meet your eyes.

and there it was. buried under all of it; jealousy. regret. hurt.

only things that you could see.

the things he couldn’t say. the ones you never needed him to.

so you smiled, small and sweet.

“thanks for your support, jiji.” you said sweetly, using the nickname you rarely used for him anymore.

he didn’t answer, but you didn’t wait for one either.

you grabbed your bag and threw it over your shoulder.

“anyways, don’t wait up!” you shouted, turning and blowing a kiss towards the boys as you walked towards the door.

youngbae clutched his chest. “she’s so going to make out with him.”

“i’m gonna vomit,” seunghyun muttered.

you walked out giggling without looking back.

jiong didn’t move. didn’t even blink. just stared at the door like it might swing back open and undo all of it.

it didn’t.

he noticed the tremble in your hands as you reached for your bag. it was faint, almost invisible. the kind of shake that came when your body had given too much.

he always noticed.

it was a curse. a reflex. a silent devotion to you that he never meant to make a habit.

you were clearly overstimulated, vibrating underneath your skin. and no one else seemed to care.

but he did. he always did.

the boys were still talking. still laughing, but their voices echoed as if they were underwater.

daesung was teasing seunghyun about running a background check. youngbae was already trying to guess the date’s name. one of them joked about texting you the restaurant address ‘in case lover boy stands you up.’

jiyong didn’t laugh. he couldn’t.

because the silence left in your absence was louder than anything. and beneath it, something ugly twisted in his chest.

he knew you weren’t dressed for a date. your hair was wild, your face was bare, still glowing with sweat and adrenaline.

you didn’t look like someone trying to impress a man, not that you needed to. you just looked like you. the version jiyong had memorized in the low light of his apartment, curled into his sheets, still trembling from his mouth on your skin.

and somehow, that made it worse.

because what if this new guy didn’t care enough to notice the small things jiyong had?

what if he didn’t realize how you go quiet when you’re overwhelmed, not out of moodiness, but because your brain shuts down under too much noise?

what if he didn’t know how sometimes you can’t ask for help, because you don’t even know what you need?

what about that you chew the inside of your cheek when you’re anxious? or that you tap your thumb against your middle finger three times when you’re trying not to cry?

would he know that you hated the sound of ticking clocks? that certain words made your skin crawl? that sometimes, dancing was the only thing that kept your thoughts from devouring you whole?

jiyong did. he knew all of it.

he knew how to sit behind you on the studio floor when everything got to be too much; legs stretched out on either side of you, chest pressed against your back.

he knew not to ask what was wrong. he knew that you didn’t always know, and that asking only made it worse.

just to let you press your ear over his heart and listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat until your lungs remembered how to breathe properly on their own again.

he knew the hoodie he always carried for you was your lifeline when you needed comfort. which songs made you cry even if you didn’t quite know why.

he knew you couldn’t sit in the backseat of a car because it always made you nauseous. which corners of your body held tension so tightly, you didn’t even realize they hurt until he pressed his fingers there.

he learned you like a prayer. a warning. a song that never stopped playing in the back of his head.

and now, someone else might get to touch you. might get to pretend they know you. run their hands down a body they hadn’t earned. kiss a mouth that didn’t belong to them.

and jiyong fucking hated that.

because yeah, it started as just sex.

reckless. rushed. hidden in between rehearsals and outfit changes. in cars, stairwells and hotel rooms too quiet for what the two of you were doing.

but it stopped being just sex a long time ago.

he didn’t know when exactly it shifted. maybe it was the first night you told him not to ask, but to just take. when you grabbed his wrist and pulled it to your throat. when you told him to ruin you.

or maybe it was the one night he didn’t.

the night he slowed down.

held your jaw in both hands like you were made of glass and kissed you like he had something to lose.

told you how fucking perfect you were. how you take him so well. how you were made for him.

you came apart for him like you believed it. like you needed it.

surely that’s when he realized it wasn’t just sex. at least, not anymore.

because you didn’t just let him have your body, you gave it to him. not with words. not directly.

in the way you trembled under his touch. in the way you arched into his hands. in the way you moaned his name like it meant something.

and fuck, it did. it meant everything.

he memorized you. not just the way your thighs shook when you were close or the spot beneath your ribs that made you gasp when he kissed it for the first time.

he knew your body better than he knew his own.

he memorized the curve of your spine. the pitch of your moans. the shape of your mouth when you were too fucked-out to speak.

he knew exactly where to touch to make you fall apart, but also exactly how to hold you when you couldn’t put yourself back together.

he hated himself for it.

for needing you. for learning you. for turning every sound you made into a song he couldn’t stop humming in his own head.

because the more he gave, the more he wanted. and the more he wanted, the more it hurt.

he told himself that ending it was the right call, and maybe it was.

maybe it was smart. you were seunghyun’s little sister, after all. this was doomed from the moment it started.

but god, he missed you.

you were the only one he ever let see him for who he really was, and now you were gone. and he has no one else to blame for that but himself.

his thumb pressed into the palm of his opposite hand; hard. a grounding technique, one that you taught him. one that never worked unless it was your voice talking him through it.

he barely felt the pain.

he just sat there, spine tense, gaze still locked on the scuffed floor where you’d been standing just a few moments ago.

the room still buzzed with conversation. low laughter, the rustle of jackets, someone still talking about dinner plans.

but it all felt far away. almost like he was watching it through a sheet of glass that was thick and smudged with fingerprints.

he didn’t hear what they said. he didn’t care either.

because all he could think about was the look on your face before you walked out.

not happy. not angry. not sad either.

he honestly wasn’t quite sure, and that scared him a little.

he remembers how you used to look at him. like you saw through everything; the ego, the performance, the chaos.

that was because you did, and yet, you still chose him.

every. single. time.

but now, you didn’t even look back.

“hyung?” daesung said cautiously, tone lighter than his expression. “you good?”

jiyong blinked like he was waking up from a dream. “what?”

“you’ve been kinda weird lately,” youngbae said from behind him. “and not just today either.”

“yeah,” daesung added. “like the last few weeks.”

jiyong exhaled through his nose, forcing a shrug. “just tired.”

seunghyun looked up from where he was zipping his bag. “ji.”

jiyong flinched like his name stung.

“talk to us,” seunghyun said, voice low, less like a demand and more like a plea. “we’ve been worried. you don’t laugh the same anymore. you barely show up.”

“i’m fine,” he said, sharper this time. like if he said it hard enough, they’d believe it.

“we’re not trying to push,” youngbae said gently. “we just miss you, man.”

jiyong’s throat was tight. he couldn’t look any of them in the eye.

“i’ll see you guys later,” he spoke suddenly, already halfway to the door.

“what?” daesung called after him. “you’re not coming to eat?”

“not hungry.”

seunghyun took a step forward. “jiyong—wait.”

but the door was already closing behind him.

and just like that, he was gone. his feet moved without thinking.

down the hallway, out of the building, and into the night.

but on the inside, he was somewhere else entirely.

back in the dressing room. back in your bed.

back in that goddamn moment where you looked up at him like you were his, even though you both knew you weren’t.

he can still feel it.

the weight of your body curled under his. your nails in his skin. his name on your tongue.

the breath you let out when he called you sweetheart like it meant something.

the quietness afterwards that felt like a promise, even though neither of you ever made one.

it should’ve faded by now.

but it hasn’t. it’s still there.

in the way his chest tightens when someone says your name.

in the way his hands curl into fists when he pictures you laughing with someone else.

in the way the silence feels heavier when you’re not around to fill it.

and now, he has to act like it didn’t happen. like it didn’t mean anything. like you didn’t mean everything.

he hates himself for how much he still cares.

hates that he let it get this far. that he let you in. that he let it mean something.

but more than anything, he hates that he can’t stop hoping it meant something to you, too.

because no matter how far he lets you go, he will always believe that no one else will ever have you in the way that he did.

and maybe that makes him selfish.

but it also makes him right.

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buckysthunderbolts · 2 days ago

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Maternal Instincts

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After avoiding Bucky for far too long, you're forced to come to him and ask him to help you walk through memories you don't believe are real. Only this time, it involves two people that look suspiciously like you and Bucky.

Warnings: Eventual 18+ content, canon-typical violence, knives, injuries, mentions of suicide, language, blood, needles, trauma, angst galore

Word Count: 5k+

Author's Note: Here's part two! This story is just flowing out of me and I'm really enjoying writing it. I really enjoy writing fics where there's really strong emotional intimacy and I hope you're able to see that here! Please let me know what you think and remember to comment and reblog fics you read and enjoy!

Chapter 2: The Patriot

THEN

My first solo mission was my last solo mission. It was shortly after the war ended and I was completely and utterly alone. Steve sacrificed himself and Bucky fell off the train shortly after his regiment was rescued. The future Bucky dreamed of us having was dead, gone and buried. I would never have that with anyone else.

So instead of moving on and living my life the way I know Bucky would’ve wanted, I was on a mission to do everything I could to harm the people who took away the person I loved most in the world. Even if what I did killed me in the end, I didn’t care.

In exchange for his biological work, scientific research, and continued protection by SHIELD, Arnim Zola gave up numerous HYDRA shell locations. I was responsible for gathering intelligence on their whereabouts, including all research on biological weapons and projects, and individuals who’ve escaped justice.

I was undercover at an underground bunker in Russia as a biologist to get access to all the intel I needed for SHIELD to take the necessary steps to take out the underground locations and gain control of their data. I was under strict orders not to engage in direct conflict. The intel was too valuable to stay in the wrong hands. I could not engage in conflict. I had two weeks to gather what I needed and then quietly leave as if I had never been there in the first place. If it took longer than two weeks, I was on my own and help would not be coming if I was discovered and captured.

On the day I was supposed to leave, there were whispers and rumors from the doctors and scientists that an asset was being delivered to the bunker. They called him the Patriot. He was allegedly an American soldier captured from the war that wasn’t released with the remaining prisoners of war when it ended. He was being used as their test subject for the biological experiments I was pretending to help facilitate. It was rumored that whatever was given to him gave him superhuman strength.

I decided then and there I would try and take him with me. If I had the opportunity to save someone while I’m here, I have to try. It’s what Bucky and Steve would’ve done if they were here instead of me.

I adjust the satchel across my body and keep my hand hidden inside, ready to shoot and kill anyone who gets in my way. The long maze of hallways and dark corridors don’t deter me as I listen to my heart race and the desperate cries of the soldier hidden away in a locked room. Two guards are posted in front of the door, and I eye the set of keys on one of their belts.

I let out a careful breath and brush my hair from my shoulders. I force a smile on to my face and the men eagerly return it. I approach them like a girl ready to be carried away into the sunset. They smirk at me, and I let my free hand trail down the arm of one of them towards his belt. He grins at the attention I give him. My fingers carefully hook on to his belt and I look into his eyes. I think his name is Aaron.

We’d been playing a cat and mouse game since my arrival and now that he was guarding whoever was behind that door, I needed to use it to my full advantage.

“Wanna sneak out for a second? There’s an unlocked room calling our names,” I asked quietly in Russian.

He flashes me a toothy grin and nods. He turns to the other guard, and they share a quick word. I grab his hand and quickly move down the hall. I open the door to the unlocked room and push him inside. He laughs eagerly as I shut the door, and his mouth finds the side of my neck. I involuntarily shiver and he grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it out from under my pants. His hand palms my skin and slides up to squeeze my breast. I lock the door and turn to face him.

“We need to be quick and quiet, yes?”

He nods in agreement and takes me by the hand towards the table in the room. I slide my hand up his arm again and he grins at me. This time, I return the grin before twisting his arm. He lets out a surprised cry and I use my body weight to throw him into the table. He claws at my arms as I choke him from behind before he goes limp.

I exhale a heavy breath and unclip the keys from his belt loop. I readjust my top and shake out my shoulders. I step over his unconscious body and slip out of the room. I hurry down the hall again towards the lone remaining guard. His brows pinch together, and his hand hesitates on the gun at his hip.

He opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t give him the chance to say anything. Instead, I press my palm into his throat, and he immediately chokes. I swipe his legs underneath him and his eyes widen in surprise. I hold his head between my thighs until he goes unconscious.

I stand quickly and insert the key into the locked door. The door creaks open and I pull the guard in from behind me before slowly shutting the door. I let out a deep exhale and try to catch my breath by briefly taking in my surroundings.

There’s a blinding white light hanging from the ceiling illuminating the room. The man, who I can only assume is the asset and American soldier they’re calling the Patriot, is strapped to a metal table. The thing that stands out to me the most is that he’s missing his left arm. He’s dressed in rags for clothes, and it looks like he’s gone far too long without proper food and water. The only thing clean about him is the white bandage where his arm should be. He's muttering quietly and soft cries fill the room.

I slowly approach the table and look down at him. A gasp escapes my throat, and I start to feel dizzy. I feel like I’m staring at a ghost. My hands shake and my heart starts racing.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

The Patriot is Bucky. My Bucky. My Bucky who’s been presumed dead for more than a year. My Bucky who dreamed of a life for us after the war. My Bucky is the one who’s been tortured and experimented on for who knows how long.

A wave of emotions hit me in my chest and stomach. Relief, anger, grief, and elation flow through me and tug at my heart.

Tears threaten to spill over my cheeks, and I gingerly reach out to touch him. His eyes are closed and there’s a dried spot of blood on his temple. Dirt, sweat, and grime cover his skin. Bucky’s eyes fly open, and he flinches when my hand makes contact with his forehead. He winces against the harsh artificial light and blinks a couple times before his eyes meet mine.

“Bucky,” I can’t help but cry. “How is this possible? How are you still alive?”

Bucky’s brows pinch together, and he whispers my name like he’s in a trance. His voice is rough, and he winces when he speaks. “Am I dreaming? Are you real? What are you doing here? Where are we?”

I move quickly and unbuckle the straps that pin his arm and legs to the table. I help him sit up and glance through the small window at the door. The hall was still empty, and the alarms still haven’t been signaled.

“As much as I would like to answer your questions, we don’t have time. I will answer them later. We have to get out of here. Now. Can you stand?” I asked him, carefully reaching for his arm.

“I’ll just slow you down. You need to leave me here. You have to save yourself. If they catch you-”

“No,” I interrupted him. “That’s not an option. I won’t leave you. We leave together or not at all.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, and I carefully help him to his feet. He leans on me as we walk to the door. I open the door slowly and pull my gun from the satchel, aiming it straight ahead as we walk together towards one of the emergency exits that lead to the vehicle transports.

The alarms break through our heavy breathing, and I lean us against a wall in a hidden alcove. I turn to look at Bucky and he’s white as a sheet, but he’s eyes still hold the same warmth they’ve always had when he looks at me. I brush his hair out of his face and his shudders at my touch. I press a soft kiss to his mouth and rest my forehead against his.

“You ready? We have to move quickly. If I get stopped for any reason, you run as fast as you can, you hear me? Do not stop and help me to be the hero, no matter what,” I carefully take the satchel from across my body and throw it over his head. “Get these to Peggy Carter.”

He starts to protest and I shut him up with another heart pounding kiss, my hands holding the sides of his face. “I will not lose you again. There is no time to argue. Do you understand me? Promise me you’ll do what I say.”

Bucky nods silently and braces himself against me, his arm wrapped protectively around me like a warm blanket, “I promise.”

We step out into the light and run as fast as we can towards the exit. I shoot anyone that gets in our way and break through the exit door with Bucky beside me.

My eyes find the nearest vehicle and I pull Bucky towards the passenger door when pain rips through my shoulder. A silent scream fills my lungs, and I fall to my knees, my gun falling uselessly at my side. Bucky yells my name and reaches for me. Blood soaks through my shirt and the pain blinds my vision. I can’t hear anything.

Bucky quickly grabs the gun and stands up, aiming it at the men that face us. He takes a careful step back and I’m forced to my feet. I cry out and feel the barrel of a gun against the side of my head. My heart pounds loudly against my chest.

“Let her go,” Bucky demands, his eyes passing between me and the men holding me up.

“I knew there was a rat in our midst,” Dr. Nikolai Frolov hummed beside me. His hand wraps in my hair and he tugs harshly, pulling my head back. I yelp and tears fill my eyes. “I could just smell it. It’s a shame such a pretty face made such a stupid decision. Why risk your life for someone you don’t know?”

“Bucky, shoot me,” I begged, looking at him. Tears stain my cheeks.

He looks at me like I shot him. His eyes are wild with desperation as he stares at me. Silent tears coat his face and mix with the sweat on his skin.

Frolov hums again and looks between us. “I misspoke then; you do know each other. From the look in your eyes, the desperation seeping from your skin, I’m guessing you know each other too well, hmm? Is this the woman you cry out to, Sargent? What did you say her name was?”

A beat of silence passes over us and it feels like time has stopped. Frolov digs his fingers into the wound on my shoulder, and I collapse in agony. I can hardly see, but I look up at Bucky.

“You promised me you wouldn’t try to be the hero. Please. Shoot me, Bucky, please,” I cried.

Agony fills his face, and he aims the gun at me. I close my eyes, waiting for the end, but too much time has passed. I open my eyes again and look at him. Bucky has the barrel of the gun pressed against his temple.

“If I kill myself, all your research and progress goes away, yes? Whatever you’ve been doing to me will die with me? You can’t do whatever it is without me,” Bucky threatens, finger lingering on the trigger. “Let her go and I won’t kill myself.”

Frolov laughs and shoves me to the ground. I’m too weak to catch myself and my head hits the ground with a loud crack. The blinding pain from my shoulder travels up my spine and surrounds my head. My head spins and I can’t see straight.

“Go ahead and try,” Frolov replied. “There’s a reason you haven’t yet and that’s because you can’t. I have been able to rewire your brain and alter your self preservation, but feel free to test it out. You’ve had multiple opportunities to kill yourself and yet you haven’t, have you stopped to think and wonder why that is? As much as you want to leverage your life for hers, you can’t. It’s admirable what people try to do to save the people they love most. She’s asked you to kill her. Go ahead.”

He grabs me by the hair again and drags me until I’m at Bucky’s feet. He forces me to look up at Bucky. Silence fills the hanger, and I try to take slow breaths. I can see the calculations and risks Bucky’s weighing in his eyes. His lip trembles as he moves the gun from his temple down to meet my forehead. His finger hesitates over the trigger.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay. I asked you to. It’s not your fault. I love you.”

“I love you. I’m sorry, please forgive me,” Bucky murmured back before falling to his knees in front of me, raising his hand in surrender. The gun falls out of his grasp.

No! A sob rips through me, and we’re instantly surrounded. Guards shove him to the floor and pin his arm behind his back. The sound of Frolov’s laughter fills the room once more and he claps eagerly.

“You promised me!” I cried as guards dragged us a part. Desperate sobs fill my lungs and agony and betrayal coat my skin. “You promised you would do what I said. You promised me you wouldn’t be the hero.”

“Take them away,” Frolov demanded. “Make sure to separate them. Take her to the lab, I have plans for her. Subdue her if you have to.”

I start to scream and thrash against the guards pinning me to the floor, fighting as hard as I can. “No! No! No! Bucky!”

A blinding pain hits the back of my head, and I crumble to ground. My vision goes dark, and I succumb to the pain.

….

NOW

I slowly come to. My throat burns and it feels like my chest is on fire. There’s a slight ringing in my ears and I hear the slow, steady beating of the heart rate monitor. Disinfectant fills my nose, and my eyes moves slowly inside my head.

A groan settles in my throat, and I open my eyes. I blink a few times and reach to rub my face, but I can’t. I look down and my arms are pinned down to the bed in leather straps. Panic grips me and I pull against the leather. My heart races and the sound of the heart rate monitor grows with each passing second. Alarms go off and a team of doctors and nurses enter the room.

They do nothing to ease my panic. It’s like I’m not even here. Fear fills my chest at the sight of the white coats, clipboards, and scrubs. My eyes fly to the door, and Yelena comes racing in. Tears blur my vision and a sob escapes me. My voice fails me. I feel helpless. It brings me back to memories I have tried so hard to forget and move on from.

“Back off!” Yelena yells, shoving them away from me. She looks at the cuffs strapped to my wrists. “Can’t you see you’re scaring her? Take the cuffs off.”

One of the faceless doctors turn to Yelena and barely spares me a passing glance. “The restraints are for her own safety as well as for our own. Until we deem she is no longer a threat to herself or others, they stay on. She’s on suicide watch because of what she did.”

I watch Yelena grit her teeth and straighten her spin. Her presence and energy towers over them. “I’m telling you right now she is not a threat. She is not suicidal. If you don’t take them off or let me do it for you, there will be a problem. Do you want there to be a problem?”

Yelena’s threat fills the air and makes the room heavy. The medical team glances at each other and the doctor that spoke lets out a heavy sigh. He moves towards me, and I hold my breath and stare down at his hands as he frees my wrists from the restraints. I immediately hold my hands to my chest and rub my wrists between my fingers.

“Good choice.”

“We’ll be back shortly,” the doctor muttered before he and the other doctors and nurses exit the room.

Yelena approaches my bedside and pulls the chair from the corner of the room to sit beside me. A shaky sigh leaves my mouth, and I rest my head against the pillows at my back. Tears silently coat my cheeks. Yelena gingerly takes one of my hands into hers and rubs her thumb across the back of my hand, carefully avoiding the needle pumping fluids into my veins.

I turn my head away from her and look towards the bare wall. I bite my bottom lip to suppress a sob and fail miserably. Yelena whispers my name, and I turn again to look at her. Shame bursts inside my chest so big that it hurts. She has stitches across her forehead and a bruise along the side of her face. I know without asking that I did that, that I hurt my closest friend.

The mission comes rushing back to me. I failed so spectacularly. I had one job and couldn’t even do that. Memories of Bierhal blowing a powdered substance into my face flash every time I blink. The loss of control I felt when I couldn’t speak and couldn’t tell Yelena or Bucky why I was trying to hurt them. The suffocating familiarity I felt when I looked at and tried to attack the two people who looked like me. The realization dawning on Bucky before he had the chance to stop me when I stabbed myself in the gut to prevent Yelena from shooting.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered before coughing uncontrollably.

I wheeze and wince at the burn in my abdomen. Yelena reaches across to the small counter beside me and fills a plastic cup with water. She leans over me and tips the water into my mouth, the cup brushing against my lips. The cool water coats my throat, and I swallow hard. I gasp in relief and relax against the bed. Yelena brushes her fingers against my forehead and gently tugs my hair out of my face.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You weren’t in control. You didn’t mean to hurt me. You didn’t have a choice.”

Silence falls between us, and Yelena helps me with sips of water whenever I cough. I let out a careful breath, considering my next words. I swallow hard. “What happen after…”

“After you stabbed yourself in the stomach?” Yelena asked.

I nod silently.

Yelena sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “You coded twice on the jet. Even though the doctor is an asshole, he saved your life. It’s a miracle you’re still here. They took samples of your blood to try and figure out what was in the drug that Markov doused you with. The lab is still waiting on the results.”

“And Bucky?”

“He was distraught, obviously. He had to watch Joaquin and Sam perform CPR and use the defibrillator until your heart started again.”

Another wave of tears break through, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I press my palms into my face and Yelena reaches for my hand again and squeezes it firmly. “He hasn’t left your side since you got out of surgery. Sam had to drag him out of here so he could shower and get some sleep.”

I nod quietly and ignore the lump in my throat and the ache in my chest. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Yelena and I sit in silence for a while before the doctor returns. He glances at the chart in his hands before glancing at me through his glasses.

“I don’t know what possessed you to stab yourself, but you’re lucky to be alive. You pierced your small intestine. If it wasn’t for the quick thinking of Mr. Wilson and Mr. Torres, I can’t say for certainty that you would still be here. You also have a broken nose and several bruised ribs. I also stitched the laceration on your forehead. How are you tolerating the pain?” he asked.

I swallow hard and Yelena gives me some more water before I answer. “That explains why it feels like my gut is on fire,” I hissed through gritted teeth.

“I’ll give you some morphine for the pain.”

The thought of taking morphine makes my heart race. It just brings back memories of torture, pain, and never being fully present for the things HYDRA did to me. The alarms on the monitor fill the room and Yelena places a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’ll be here when you wake up,” she promised. “No one will hurt you.”

I nod slowly and watch the doctor take a syringe and push the liquid into my IV. The pain subsides after several minutes, and I dip into a dreamless slumber.

….

The next time I wake up, I feel better than I did before. I open my eyes and turn my head, finding Bucky sitting beside me. His arms are crossed over his chest and his head leans back on the wall, eyes closed.

I wince as I sit up and Bucky immediately opens his eyes. He leans towards me and hesitantly takes my hand in his. Both flesh and metal hands envelop my hand, and he brings it up to his mouth, kissing my knuckles gently. He’s careful to avoid the IV on the top of my hand. It sends shivers down my spine.

“Hey,” I mumbled quietly, my voice rough with sleep.

He reaches for the cup of water on the table attached to the hospital bed and helps me take a sip. He brushes his metal hand gently across my forehead and the coolness of his fingers is a welcome relief to the heat in my chest. Bucky sits back down but doesn’t let go of my hand. His fingers brush against the bruising on my wrist.

“Hey,” he whispered back. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than before, but everything hurts still.”

Bucky nods silently and I take in his haggard appearance. His hair’s a mess and he has bags under his eyes. His shirt is a wrinkled mess. He has a scrape on the side of his face, but its already on its way to healing. It’s a stark contrast to what he looked like the last time I saw him, the way I usually see him.

Since his tenure as a Congressman and Avenger started, Bucky was the picture of what it meant to be put together. Crisp suits, neat hair, tailored beard, clean skin. It’s strange to see him like this.

There’s so much I want to say to him, to ask him, to explain to him, but I don’t know where to start. How do you explain to the person you love most in the world why you pushed him away? How do you ask him questions about memories you’re too afraid to relive, too afraid to admit that it was true and not a figment of your imagination when he’s the only one that has the answers?

Bucky swallows hard and his eyes find mine again. I try to find the right words to say but they fail me. I used to be able to say anything and everything to him, and now I can’t. The slow beeping of the heart rate monitor fills the room as we stare at each other. We may as well have been at opposite ends of the earth with the space that filled the silence between us.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky apologized quietly, as he squeezed my hand and rubbed my skin.

My brows pinch together in confusion as I stare at him. I sit up a little straighter. “Sorry?” I asked. “What do you have to be sorry for? The mission failed because of me, not because of anything you did.”

Tears threaten to spill from his eyes, and he squeezes my hand tightly. “Back then… when you tried to rescue me when you were undercover. I promised you I wouldn’t try to be the hero and broke that promise when I didn’t kill you like you asked. I betrayed you when you needed me the most. If I had… the things that were done to you… the things I did to you… what happened during the mission… none of that would’ve happened if I wasn’t such a fucking coward and did what you asked.”

Bucky says the word with such venom that I wince. Silent tears coat my cheeks, and I bite the inside of my cheek and swallow hard. “I put you in an impossible position, Bucky. I should’ve never put that on you in the first place. I was desperate for you to escape, even at the cost of my own life. Even if I was angry with you, I forgave you a long time ago. None of what happened after that was your fault. You didn’t have a choice and neither did I. Now I just have to live with the decisions I made that led us to this point.”

His face crumbles and he pushes the chair impossibly closer to the bed. He leans his elbows over the bed. “Then why push me away? If it wasn’t my fault, why does it feel like you’re punishing me?” Bucky’s voice cracks and is filled with desperation. “Explain it to me.”

He holds my face between his hands and looks at me with such love that it hurts to breathe. He brushes away my tears and I sniff quietly. “Bucky, you’re an Avenger and a politician. You’ve healed so much and I just… I haven’t. I get these flashes of memories I know you have the answers to. I’m too scared and too ashamed to ask you about them, so I pretend they don’t exist. I don’t want to hold you back from moving on.”

The weight of my confession hangs in the air, and I stare at my lap. Bucky’s stare burns the side of my face. He moves to stand, and I expect him to get up and go. It’s what he deserves. Instead, he carefully climbs into the bed beside me and holds me in his arms for the first time in so, so long.

My shoulders shake and fat ugly tears stain my face. It feels like I can breathe for the first time. The weight in my chest and in my heart from keeping this from Bucky goes away. Bucky’s own tears wet my hair and his mouth presses against my skin for the first time in decades. He kisses my cheeks, my throat, my forehead. He breathes me in and for a moment, I’m brought back in time to the days before the war, before everything changed forever.

“None of that means anything to me if I don’t have you to share it with,” Bucky whispered against my skin. “I have spent over 80 years trying to get back to you, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.”

Silence fills the room again and I’m nearly asleep again when Bucky mutters something against my skin that I don’t quite understand or catch. “Hmm?”

“Why did you stab yourself?” Bucky asked, playing with the ends of my hair between his fingers. I feel his hot stare on the back of my neck.

My spine stiffens and I swallow hard. A cold sweat starts to form on my back, and I shift uncomfortably. “You know why,” I murmured.

“I do. I just want to hear you say it.”

A shaky sigh leaves my mouth as I build up the courage to answer him. “Whatever I was drugged with rewired my brain and made you and Yelena into combatants. I couldn’t speak and tell you what was going on or what happened. When Yelena knocked me to the floor after I tried to stab her, she had her gun trained on… on her. I didn’t know what to do. You were preoccupied with him. I couldn’t hurt them because of the drugs, and I didn’t want to hurt you or Yelena, so I panicked. I thought if I created a big enough distraction, no one I cared about would get hurt. It was a calculated risk I had to take, and I don’t regret it.”

“Do you remember who they are?”

The question weighs on my shoulders and sits on my chest. I let out a careful breath and nod. “I didn’t at first. When I looked at them… really looked at them, I knew. I knew like my lungs know how to breathe for me. It was like I was staring at them for the first time. I knew I was staring at our kids. Maggie and Peter.”

Bucky kisses the side of my head and brushes away the last of my tears, “Yes.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction

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harmonyrae · 3 days ago

Text

Ivy League

Fall Semester: Sophomore Year🍁🍂🎃🏈

Premise: Based on this post by PomeRinn aka @waterrinmelonn. All the boys are modern rich international kids going to a prestigious university. They’re attending Yale, an Ivy League University in the American Northeast. They're all the same age. My FMC will end up with only one of them in the end.

Content Warnings: Mildly Suggestive & Explicit Language. Some fluff. Some angst. Slow burn in its purest form. Underage drinking. FMC is drugged (she’s okay, unharmed) but please be aware of your own triggers while reading. 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 7.6k (oh lord it's a long one)

Part One Part Two

“You’re sure we got assigned to Lawrance Hall? Like, 100% sure?”

“Hun, I emailed and called, we are in Lawrance Hall this year. Same room, no overbooking, we’re good babe!” Tara sighs as she reassures you for the 100th time.

Finding out you’re changing dorms was stressful enough as it is, but getting assigned to the hall that caused you insane anxiety last year made you even more on edge. Thankfully, Tara was on top of things and joined you in calling Student Housing to double, triple, quadruple check.

“My flight got delayed, so I will be arriving a few hours later than I expected. Are you and Caleb already on campus?”

You look over at the driver seat, Caleb had changed quite a bit over the summer. He started an amateur basketball league at the country club. He only ever used his parent’s membership to the club for the gym anyways, so he decided to do something for the community. He often held practice outside, so he was tan and much leaner than before break.

You had your own tan lines given your summer job as a lifeguard at the same club. You’d been going with Caleb to the club since before you were able to swim and knew the staff well. When they offered you the job, you were ecstatic. A chance to save up some money and get a tan at the same time? Deal of the century.

“Hello? Are you still there?” Tara’s voice brings you back.

“Sorry, yeah. We just arrived. Caleb is still trying to find a parking space to unload my shit.”

“He’s moving into the frat house, right?”

“Yup, he’s going full frat bro.” Caleb rolls his eyes and scoffs. “You’re literally wearing your hat backwards right now.”

He immediately swivels his hat around. You break into a fit of giggles as you hear Tara begging for a picture on the other end of the call. Caleb finds a spot and backs in, waving to the parking attendant before getting out.

“Did Sylus or Zayne ever get back to you?”

“Not yet, I think Zayne is still with his cousins and Sylus is on a plane.”

“I can’t believe they got assigned to Lawrance Hall too. If they’re on the same floor, I’m buying a lottery ticket.” A voice echos through her phone announcing a departure. “Oop, that’s my flight! I’ll see you in a few hours bestie!”

After wishing her safe travels, you hang up and join Caleb who had just successfully convinced the parking attendant to let him stay parked for 30 minutes.

“Thanks man. We’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”

Thankfully you’re not on the fourth floor this year so the trek back and forth wasn’t as miserable. Second floor, right at the end of the hall by the stairwell door. Your room is a tiny bit bigger and has a decent view. The shared bathroom with the room next door would take some getting used to. It was nice you didn’t have to share the showers with the whole floor, but until you meet your neighbors you can’t say that with full confidence.

“Alright Pips, I think that’s it.” He takes off his hat and smoothes back his sweat slick hair.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to help you move in?”

Caleb pulls you into a sweaty side-hug making your squirm.

“I’m sure. The house is going to be super busy and I know you get anxious.”

He’s right. A chaotic frat house with a bunch of sweaty guys running around? No thanks.

“Okay, just let me know if you need anything. We’re still meeting for dinner with the gang, right?”

He nods and you walk him out, waving him off when he shouts something about ‘behaving.’ When you return to your room you focus on getting your bed made up and finding your corkboards. You spent the last week printing out pictures and making collages to hang up. You had an impressive collection, pictures from your first Yale football game, movie night in the Commons, fencing tournaments, your first published piece in the Yale student paper and a whole board dedicated to three special felines.

You’d be hounding Zayne for updates when he arrived, Galen is probably so big now. You follow the Instagrams for the girls who adopted Lilith and Dream. It warmed your heart that they kept the sisters together. Sadly, Zayne’s cousin doesn’t have any social media so you can’t keep an eye on the little cheesepuff. As you pin the board to the wall, you giggle at the photo of Sylus with Galen on his head. It was the only time Galen was calm during the entire roadtrip to DC. You’re glad the foster agreed to let you, Tara, Zayne and Sylus transport Galen to his temporary home with Zayne’s cousin over Spring Break. Spending a week in DC was also a fun time.

You fluff your pillows and toss another throw blanket over the bottom of your bed before flinging yourself down to take a breather. It’s only then you realize the afternoon sun is shining directly onto your bed. Sitting up, you look for the string to the blinds, you knew you should have brought curtains.

The ledge of the window is wide enough for you to prop your foot up and possibly stand for a minute or two. Just long enough to grab the cord and lower them. Taking a precarious step forward, you wedge the toe of your sneaker into one of the grooves of the radiator and hold onto the walls on either side of the window to balance yourself. You’re about to hoist yourself up onto the ledge when the door to the bathroom opens into your room.

Tara’s going to need that lottery ticket.

“What on earth are you trying to do?” Zayne rushes over to yank you back. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

Leaping away from the wall, you throw your arms around him.

“Zayne! When did you get here? Where did you come from? How’s Galen?”

“I can only answer one question at a time.” You let him go and let him reach up to grab the cord himself, easily lowering the blinds and darkening the room.

Flipping on a lamp, you sit on your bed and pat the space next to you. As soon as Zayne sits you begin your interrogation.

“Okay, when did you get here?”

“I arrived from DC at noon and spent an hour in traffic. Luckily, the taxi driver was a quiet man so I got caught up on my reading. I arrived in my dorm room about fifteen minutes ago.”

“So how did you get in here? Are you on the same floor?”

He glances at the bathroom door, which he left wide open. When you look over, you can see straight through to the adjoining room. Where his backpack sits on the bed. You stare at him, then back through the door, then back at him.

“No way.”

“I’ll have to talk to a member of Student Housing. They usually don’t allow this kind of arrangement.” He offers.

“Every semester it’s something else! Last year they put me in the wrong room, this year they put us in adjoining rooms with a shared bathroom! I’m sorry, I like you, Zayne, but I don’t want to share a bathroom with you and Sylus!”

“I understand, I will find a member of staff immediately.” You grab his arm to stop him from standing. “What?”

“I want to hear about Galen first…”

He questions your priorities, but shifts on the bed to get more comfortable as he divulges more info about Galen. He pulls out his phone to show new pictures, sending a few to you so you can update your picture board. Eventually, you discuss his class schedule, his plans to volunteer at the shelter again, how his summer went. The sun was setting before you knew it.

“I’ll find someone to ask about the room situation and meet you at the dining hall in around 30 minutes.”

You thank Zayne and return your focus to getting the room set up. Your mom had bought you a skincare fridge and you were itching to stock it. A clatter and squeal alerts you to the arrival of your roommate. You turn just in time to brace yourself for impact.

“Oh my god! I’m never getting on a plane again.” You grunt as she squeezes you tighter. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Tara.” She lets you go and you stretch your back from where she squeezed a little too tight.

She drops her bags off on the other bed, examining the room and stopping at the open bathroom door. She doesn’t say a word before running through to the other room. You call out and chase after her. When you enter the other room you’re greeted with a sight for sore eyes. Tara clings to Sylus, her arms wrapped around his waist while his arms are raised, clearly unprepared for this attack hug.

“Yes hello, I missed you, Tara.”

He looks up and gives you a once over, smiling.

“Missed you too, kitten.”

He must have gotten extra sun this summer too. His hair is even more of a contrast against his tanned skin. His go-to tank top and jean combo still suits him, but he has more accessories now. A chain on his belt, bracelets, rings on almost every finger. And best - or worst, depending on your sanity - of all, fresh ink swirling down his right arm. Tara lets him go and grabs his hand, twisting his arm so she can get a better look at it.

“This is so cool! When did this happen?”

“A few weeks ago, I wanted it to be mostly healed before returning to campus.”

You take a step forward and get a closer look. You can only make out scales and shadows, too caught up in how the ink thins at his wrist, circles his arm, covers his bicep, crawls up his shoulder and drops down his back. The question is on the tip of your tongue, but you know it’s a bad idea. Tara beats you to it.

“How far does it go?”

Sylus responds exactly like you think he would, he pulls his shirt over his head and turns. While your cheeks are on fire, you can make out the design a bit better. It’s a dragon. Its body continues to spiral down his back and over his ribcage, its wings folded against its back. You can’t see the end of the tail as it disappears below his waistband.

“Use your imagination for the rest.” Tara slaps his arm and you momentarily black out.

“Wait, it’s not normal to share a bathroom with guys like this, right?” Tara walks through the bathroom, realizing the set up.

“No, Zayne is finding someone to talk to about it.”

“Zayne’s already here! Oh my god!” Tara jumps up and down. “I’m texting Rafayel and Xavier, I need to see all my boys together again.”

She skips off into your room, leaving you alone with a shirtless Sylus. He’s made no significant effort to put his shirt back on and you’re about 10 seconds away from blacking out again.

“You look good.” He noted. “Spent your summer in the sun, did you?”

You bite your lip and hold your breath as you turn to face him. He fiddles with his shirt, his muscles twitching as he maintains eye contact.

“Yeah. Worked as a lifeguard. Helped with swimming lessons too… uhm… What about you? You look…” God, you’re awkward. “... Good. You look good too. Tan. I mean.”

Sylus tilts his head, lips twisting into a smirk. He takes a step closer.

“Stayed with my uncle at his beach house in Busan. Helped him fix up his vintage car. I visited my mom in Moscow during the rainy season. Joined her for a few outings to the beaches there.”

Another step.

“I am glad you stayed in touch.”

Another step.

“Well, yeah, someone had to convince you not to name that bird of yours ‘Shadow-Dragon’.”

He grins, eyeing you.

“He was going through a phase. Seemed fitting.”

He’s much closer now, if you didn’t know better you’d think…

“Dinner in 10 minutes! Come on! Oh my god Sylus, put your shirt back on. Show off…” Tara calls over her shoulder as she returns to her room.

You stare at your feet, waiting for him to take a step back.

“I’m going to change. Got all sweaty moving in. I’ll see you in a bit.”

You don’t wait for him to reply, just spin and race back to your room. Why are you being so awkward? You were calm, cool and collected all summer while messaging him and now? Sure, he couldn’t see how you buried your head in your pillow and screamed in frustration over what to say, but you thought you had reigned in your emotions.

Dinner was only awkward for about .5 seconds, as soon as Rafayel arrived he was raving over Sylus’s tattoo and critiquing Zayne’s hair. You hadn’t realized before, but Zayne grew out his hair. It was a good look for him, more casual, less preppy. Caleb didn’t waste anytime hyping up his fraternity, praising the cooking staff, the private pool access, the bigger rooms. He brought his roommate, Gideon, who immediately clicked with Tara. They chatted most of the night, barely paying attention to Caleb’s performance. You knew exactly what he was doing since he practiced his pitch on you on the drive back to campus.

“Finley told me to have someone in mind to tap as soon as I get back. He said the earlier the better since Sigma Chi had lower recruitment the past few semesters. And 20% graduated in May.” He mused. “What do you think Rafayel and Sylus would say if I tapped them?”

At first, you laughed, but then you weren’t so sure. Rafayel might enjoy the challenge of being more social. He’d mentioned he was far too comfortable last year, didn’t try to branch out and try new things. Sylus, on the other hand, was a wild card. Could go either way. So when Caleb arrived in the dining hall, you knew he’d be in salesman mode.

“Sigma Chi has the best parties and social standing, sure, but there’s a lot more. They host private sporting events, and have internal teams. Finley already offered me a co-captain position on his basketball team. Next week we’re doing a fundraiser for members' tuition fund. There’s also a shit ton of networking opportunities - we might be sophomores but it’s never too early to think about life after college.”

“Caleb, you sound like an infomercial.” Zayne grumbles.

“I’m just making sure Rafayel and Sylus know all the benefits to joining.”

“Well, I’m down.” Rafayel pipes up. “Could serve as inspiration for a collection. The ‘reality of a frat bro’ - vivid colors, hidden elements. I like it.”

“I’m not sure, honestly. Doesn’t seem like I would really be a good fit.” Sylus counters.

“No, you definitely would. There’s a few engineering majors who invested in renovating the basement into a workshop. They won’t even let me in without a welding mask.”

Sylus is instantly more attentive.

“Should have led with that Caleb.” You snicker as he back-tracks to go over how tapping works.

🍁🍂🎃🏈

You hit the ground running this semester, less anxious than last year. Still undeclared, but taking more classes you actually enjoy. Other than Biology, math and science are not your strong suits. But with Zayne next door, you breeze through your first exam. Rafayel is in the same class and after nearly failing he finally admits defeat and asks Zayne for help.

“Please don’t make me ask again.” Rafayel mumbles.

“I just want to make sure I heard you correctly.” Zayne flips the pages of his textbook as if Rafayel’s not even there.

Rafayel sighs and leans closer to Zayne.

“Oh great and powerful master of science and medicine, might you consider tutoring me so biology is no longer the bane of my existence and cause of my despair?”

Tara spits out her soup, barely grabbing a napkin in time to save her sweater. Zayne looks up, peering over his glasses.

“When is your class held?”

“Monday, Wednesday, Friday - 2pm.”

“You’ll arrive at the library at 5:30pm on Wednesdays for exactly 2 hours of tutoring along with Y/N. If you’re late, there’s a fee.”

“A fee?!”

“For every 5 minutes you’re late, you get a tally. If you rack up 10 tallies you have to buy me a premium chocolate box from Durfee Sweet Shop.”

“Those are like, $50 each!”

“Don’t be late then.” Zayne concludes.

Rafayel has never been more punctual. He could afford the chocolate, but the thought of spending $50 on sweets made him irrationally angry. Wednesday quickly became your favorite day of the week. Rafayel argued that there was no real reason to memorize the differences between bacteria, viruses, and fungi. Zayne argued that understanding the differences is actually a very important element of health and wellness. You just sat there, sipping your coffee, enjoying the break.

Thursday evenings were still reserved for Fencing Club. Xavier was determined to have you putting down the foil for a sabre before the end of the semester. The idea of moving from a structured fight to something more fast paced was an exciting prospect, but you weren’t sure you’d be ready. Xavier, however, was persistent, more so than usual.

“And… flunge! There we go, excellent. Stop laughing!”

You don’t mean to, but the term itself and Xavier’s accent is too funny. Xavier advances without warning and you jump, barely escaping Xavier’s sabre. He doesn’t yield the right-of-way when you successfully parry, instead opting to pursue you further, forcing you to hop down off the mat.

“Xavier!”

You scramble to right yourself as he continues to lunge and thrust his blade. Your back hits the wall and the point of Xavier’s blade dives straight into the wall beside your head. You scream and stare at Xavier, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“Always stand your ground, even if your opponent is trying to advance and take over your space. Don’t let them. Don’t wait for the perfect moment to take control, trust your instincts and just do it. You can’t remain in defense mode forever.”

His words dig a little too deep. He’s talking about fencing, right?

For the rest of practice, he focuses on your footwork. His attitude is noticeably more somber and you chase after him when practice ends. The leaves have just begun to change, the wind making you shiver as it blows through your hair. You reach Xavier right before he heads into his dorm. He avoids eye contact, choosing to stare at his shoes.

“Xavier. What’s going on? You’ve never been that aggressive with me before.”

“I’m sorry. I got carried away.” You stay quiet, waiting for more. “I… I usually train when I get overwhelmed. My coaches would push me around just so I could fight back. I got stronger while blowing off steam. I shouldn’t have pushed you, I’m sorry, truly.”

“Why are you overwhelmed? Classes?”

He shakes his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Got a letter from my uncle.”

“Oh…” You shuffle closer. “Did something happen?”

“My parents want me to come home for the holidays.”

If a letter asking him to visit for the holidays is enough to make Xavier feel like this, his relationship with his parents must be worse than you thought. You follow him to a bench to sit. He scoots closer to you, sharing his warmth.

“I haven’t seen my parents in almost 7 years. Going home… I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t.” He smiles, pleased with your quick response and subtle anger. “You don’t owe them anything. You should celebrate the holidays with people who make you happy.”

“You have a good relationship with your family, I’m guessing.”

“It’s decent. Not perfect though. I know I don’t know your situation, I shouldn’t assume.”

He shakes his head.

“You’re not wrong, I guess I’m just… not ready to face them yet. I’m not sure I’ll ever be.”

You put your arm around his shoulders and rest your head against his. He leans into your touch, taking a deep breath, a cloud of hot air billowing out of his mouth into the cold. It’s not until your ass is numb from the frigid metal bench that you let go. He thanks you and you invite him to the next study session with Rafayel and Zayne.

“Watching Rafayel crash out over DNA sequencing should put a smile on your face.”

He agrees before shuffling inside.

You’ve always been a fixer, wanting to help your friends and family with whatever they’re going through. Even if it means sacrificing your wellbeing. You know it’s not the healthiest thing to do, but it’s almost like you’ve been programmed that way. You spent most of your childhood helping Caleb through his teen angst. And no with Xavier, you can help him feel better, distract him. With Rafayel, you can study with him. Zayne, you simply knock on his door and hand him a cup of Jasmine tea. Sylus is a bit trickier. He hasn’t told you much about his family life and can be a bit hard to read. But when it comes to keeping a hall full of angry students from bashing down his door at 3am, yeah, you can help with that.

CAW CAW CAW CAW

You roll over and moan, already hearing Tara jump out of bed in a fury. She swings open the bathroom door and barges through, slamming her fist on the door to Sylus and Zayne’s room.

“Sylus I swear to god!”

You stumble out of bed and waddle through the bathroom just as Zayne opens the door, eyes heavy with sleep, his soundproof headphones hung around his neck. He mumbles something, but you just pat his shoulder and shuffle past him. Someone begins knocking on their main door and Tara takes the lead on damage control for tonight. You pull Zayne’s desk chair from across the room to Sylus’s desk, where he’s hunched over his crow. His fingers shake as he tries to maneuver the tiny chip into place.

“Did you eat dinner?” You shout over the incessant cawing.

He shakes his head and you open the top drawer of his desk to grab a granola bar. You open it and hold it up to his mouth. He doesn’t take his eyes off the chip, but does take a bite. When the chip finally slides into place, the cawing ceases and the crowd outside his door disperses. Except for Becket and Tiffany, the floor RAs, who begrudgingly enter the room to issue Sylus his second warning.

“Sylus, you’ve got to stop working on this in the middle of the night. If you get one more warning, we’ll have to kick you out of the dorm. So please… just go to bed…”

They leave in a huff, slamming the door behind them. Sylus stares at the bird on his desk, half a granola bar in his mouth. The skin under his eyes is darker, like he hasn’t been sleeping at all. You hear Tara say something about going back to sleep and Zayne puts his headphones back on and curls up into a ball in his bed.

“Sy?” He nods, acknowledging you. “Why can’t you sleep?”

This gets his attention. He looks over, frowning when he sees your exhausted expression.

“You’re not coming to dinner as often either. So, I’m not moving from this chair until you tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

He snorts and you pinch your lips together. Adorable.

“You’ll be sitting there all night, kitten.”

“Then you better get me one of those energy drinks you’re hiding from Zayne.”

“It’s not your job to fix everything, you know?”

You know that, but you’re going to try anyway.

“But I can listen.”

And there you sat, all night, sipping on a sugary energy drink and eating granola bars until the early morning hours. Not everything he talked about was necessarily related to his “problem” but you could see the relief in his eyes as he vented.

He revealed that his father has been relentlessly messaging him about returning to Seoul. Telling him he should have enrolled in Seoul National University to study business. Criticizing every choice he makes: where he spent his summer, wasting his money on tattoos or ‘toy robots.’ His dad has no idea who his son is or what he cares about.

“Usually, I don’t give a shit. It’s just been non-stop the past few days. I bought a burner just to avoid his calls. How fucked is that? Having to buy a goddamn burner phone so your father doesn’t call you during class?”

It’s around 7am when the sun peaks over the horizon, casting a hazy glow through the window. You’d moved to sit at the end of his bed since the Yale-provided desk chair had started to bruise your ass. At some point, Sylus had laid down, his head next to your thigh. When you woke up to Zayne’s alarm, his head had shifted to your lap, your fingers woven through his hair. You yanked your hand back to your chest and carefully slid a pillow under his head before climbing down off of his bed. Zayne had already spotted you, his arms crossed, silently judging you.

“Don’t look at me like that. He’s sleeping and the bird is quiet. Take that as a win.”

You’re not sure how you survived classes that day, but when you got back to your dorm Sylus was still fast asleep. You knew it’d be hell getting caught up on classwork, but he needed the sleep. And helping him study is a problem you can actually help with, unlike his situation with his asshole of a father. But you find yourself imagining what you’d say to the man if you ever met.

🍁🍂🎃🏈

“Please tell me you guys are on your way. Please. Please please please.”

You shouldn’t be laughing, it’s not funny that you’re running late to the party. But Caleb has never been so anxious about a party in… well, ever. Clearing your throat, you steady your voice.

“If you had joined us, you could have micromanaged everything yourself.” He all but growls. “Tara is helping Rafayel with his makeup. We should be on our way in about 15 minutes.”

Caleb groans, that was not what he wanted to hear.

“Just call me when you get here. I’ll get you past the line.”

“There’s a line?” You sputtered.

“It’s the Sigma Chi Halloween party, of course there’s a line! We’re the only frat that hosts a part on Halloween night. Everyone else hosts parties over the weekend. There’s already over 100 people downstairs.”

“Shit!” You squeal. “Okay, we’ll be there soon.”

You hang up and skip into the bathroom where Zayne and Xavier are getting ready. Xavier is more keeping Zayne company while he fights with his hair, he was the first to be ready. His costume was more a non-costume costume. Jeans, sneakers, a white t-shirt and a navy bomber jacket with a big NASA pin on the chest. The “casual astronaut” he called it. He just didn’t want to make a big fuss over an outfit he’d only wear once. Practical as ever.

“Zayne, are you sure you don’t need my help?” You offer.

He drops the comb to the counter, staring at his reflection. Putting on his glasses he turns to face you and raises his brow.

“Do you really think this is a good costume for me?”

You know he’s frustrated, but with his hair standing on end he looks like a different person. Add the glasses and sure enough, that’s Doctor Who alright. The blue suit he found at the thirst store is slightly oversized making the costume even better. Thanks to Sylus, he had a red tie and red converse. And he already owned a beige trench coat. You’d have to beg him to say ‘Allons-y’ at least once for Snapchat.

“You look perfect, Doctor.”

His eyes brightened, a blush spreading over his cheeks. He’s working his ass off to become a real doctor, tonight he gets to just have fun but still kinda technically be one. You pat his shoulder as you continue into the other room. Tara is basically straddling Rafayel to get his eyeliner just right. You choke back a laugh and walk over to observe.

“Tara, if you poke my eye one more time I swear to god…” She shushes him.

“How’s it going?” You inquire and Tara sighs.

“I’m almost done, just another… swipe… here…”

Rafayel wiggles and Tara slaps him, not hard enough to do damage but he still acts as though he’s been stabbed. He might be annoyed now, but he does look amazing. One eye smudged with red, the other smudged with blue, pointed curves of matching eyeliner dripping down his cheeks. Tara takes a tissue and smudges the lipstain on his lips so the corners of his mouth extend out. The purple in his hair had faded, making it the perfect time to add the red and blue temp dye. His costume was just as impressive as the makeup. An exact replica of the t-shirt from the movie, a thick sweater half red and blue, ripped blue jeans and a leather harness connected to his belt and choker. Top tier costume right here. He’d also painted a plastic bat since the frat wouldn’t allow real bats for safety reasons.

“Holy shit, Rafayel, you look incredible.”

Tara holds up a mirror and Rafayel grins, a cocky smile forming.

“Okay, Tara, I forgive you for stabbing me in the eye.” Tara hauls herself off his lap.

“I need to apply my lashes and then we are good to go!”

She runs back into your shared room. You couldn’t wait to get pictures together, the last person you matched with on Halloween was Caleb and there’s no chance he could pull off what Tara’s wearing. Black leather shorts, fishnet tights, a black velvet corset, chunky heels - all pulled together with a set of black devil horns and matching wings. The devil to your angel.

You’re glad your mom and dad aren’t here, they’d never let you out of the house like this. A white mini skirt, thigh high white socks, a strapless white lace corset with a thick satin ribbon lacing up the back, white strappy heels. Your white wings and fluffy halo, in perfect contrast with Tara. It’s not that revealing, but it’s still the sexiest Halloween costume you’ve ever worn.

Rafayel stands and crouches next to Sylus’s desk, where Sylus is typing away on his laptop.

“Are they staying in?”

“Haven’t fallen out for 30 minutes, so I think we’re in the clear.” Sylus said, his voice slightly off.

“So everyone’s ready then?” You ask.

Sylus closes his laptop and turns around in his chair. Oh how you wish you had been recording to capture his reaction. His eyes were already a main feature, but tonight they were even more intense with black liner smudged into sharp wings. So when his eyes widened, they damn popped out of his skull. His mouth literally dropped open, his gaze lingering over your bare shoulders, down to the little bows at the top of your socks against your thighs. For all the times you’ve been lost for words when looking at him, it was nice having it reversed for a change.

“Ahh… I wasn’t expecting… I thought - ahem - you look amazing, kitten.”

You could spot the fake fangs when he smiled, the little lisp he has thanks to the cosmetic piece is making your brain fuzzy. His costume was not too different from his everyday attire, maybe a tad more luxurious. Fitted suit pants, dress shoes, a red silk shirt unbuttoned so low you questioned your morals, and the amount of jewelry…

“Are you wearing every single piece of your jewelry collection?”

He stands, his hands held up as he examines them.

“Pretty much. Is it too much?” You shake your head.

How you’re just now realizing his hair is slicked back is beyond you, but fuck he looks fantastic. Rafayel steps into your peripheral and crosses his arms.

“If you two are done flirting, we have a party to get to.”

You shoot a glare in his direction and he cackles, ignoring your fury. He heads for the bathroom and you can hear him rallying the troops to head out. Sylus stops at his dresser to pick up a tube of fake blood. He’s about to dab some to the corner of his mouth when you stop him.

“Wait! Use lipstain, it’ll last longer and you can eat and drink with it on.” You pick up the lipstain Tara left behind, offering it to him.

“Could you help me apply it? Seems like you’re more familiar with it than I am.”

He sits back on his desk and you slowly approach him while unscrewing the cap. You gently hold his chin while you swipe the product over the corner of his mouth, letting a small drop drip down. You realize you’re all but staring at his lips, reveling in his smoky scent and allowing your imagination to run wild. Even if it’s just for a moment. You feel Sylus’s hand on your hip and your eyes flick up to meet his. His lips part, as if he’s about to say something, but he stops himself, hesitates. Before he gets another chance, Tara is bounding into the room.

“We are lea– oh… I am interrupting something fantastic, I’ll go!”

You back away from Sylus and grab her wrist.

“No no no! I was just adding the final touches to his costume, we’re ready to go.”

You drag her behind you, leaving Sylus behind as you return to your room to grab your phone. Caleb will lose his shit if you all don’t get to the house soon.

🍁🍂🎃🏈 (Trigger Warning relates to this chapter)

The house was literally packed with people when you arrived. True to his word, Caleb helped everyone skip the line and get into the main house. You recognized his Top Gun jumpsuit and Aviators, he’d worn it last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. Obsessed is not a strong enough word for how he feels about Tom Cruise and that movie.

Of course he gave you shit about your costume, but he stopped himself from running to his room to grab a hoodie for you to cover up with. Tara assures him that she’ll keep an eye on you and she’ll personally punch anyone who tries to touch in the throat.

A few members of the fencing team are members of Sigma Chi, so as soon as they spot Xavier they crowd around him. Xavier has been looking happier recently. Turning up the intensity of your training sessions has helped him mellow out a lot. Sure, you’re so sore you can barely walk to class the next day and you have a few bruises, but you’re happy if he’s happy.

Caleb drags Rafayel and Sylus on a tour of the house while you, Zayne and Tara follow behind.

“And here’s the sunroom, we have a couple amateur artists who come in here to paint or draw. I’m sure they’d love to get lessons from an actual art major. Our last Bachelor of Arts member graduated in May, so we need more creatives around here!”

Rafayel inspects some of the sketchpads left scattered around the room. He shakes his head, clearly unimpressed, but does occasionally crack a smile. Seems someone has potential. Continuing on, Caleb stops to point down a set of stairs to a metal door.

“Down these stairs is the workshop I mentioned. Luke and Kieran said they’d show you around a little later.”

The house is massive, plenty of rooms to house the members who want to live close to campus. The main kitchen is locked, but a secondary smaller kitchen is busy with people mixing drinks and eating the various appetizers prepared by the staff. Caleb grabs a beer and offers one to the rest of the guys.

“Is there any wine, by chance?” Rafayel asks.

“Actually, yes. Finley is a big wine fan, he should have a couple bottles around here.”

Once Rafayel has his wine, Caleb finds you and leans in so he’s not shouting over the crowd.

“If you want to try beer, you can take a sip from mine. Just don’t –”

“Don’t take a drink from any strange men, I know the drill. I’m good right now. This place is crazy! The pool is the size of a lake!”

Caleb chuckles. Someone calls his name and he promises to return as soon as possible. You watch him run off through the crowd and take a moment to look around.

Zayne, of course, has found the sweets, but he’s also found someone to chat with. A tall girl, her light brown hair tucked up into a neat bun, her nurse costume only slightly revealing. She is wearing a sweater, which she keeps pulling closed to hide her chest. You can assume the costume choice wasn’t entirely her own. When Zayne smiles and points to a plate of macaroons she lights up, eagerly grabbing one to try.

Rafayel and Xavier have reunited. If you had to guess, Rafayel is the one who dragged Xavier onto the dance floor. But it looks like they’re actually having fun, so you can’t help but smile. Even though they’re roommates, they haven’t exactly bonded like you and Tara have. When Xavier started joining you and Rafayel for your tutoring sessions, they started getting closer. It was like they were trying to see who could keep a straight face the longest while insulting each other. Zayne has started keeping score, writing down the funniest ones to use on Sylus.

Speaking of Sylus, you look around and can’t find him. You assume he’s getting that tour of the workshop. Tara stays at your side, taking on the responsibility of socializing for the both of you. Parties are not your thing, even though you attended tons with Caleb in high school. He just had to be Mr. Popular. If it were up to you, you’d be curled up in bed with popcorn watching Halloweentown. But you wanted to at least try to be more social, try new things, meet people.

As soon as Gideon showed up, Tara was fidgety. You could tell she wanted to hang out with him, but that would mean leaving you alone.

“Tara, go! I’m fine! Caleb should be back soon.” She squinted at you. “Go! Flirt! Be merry!”

She hugs you before taking Gideon’s hand and following him through the crowd. You watch her for a minute, making sure she’s not being taken to some scary secret room. Gideon stops at the DJ booth and whispers something to the DJ. When the songs change to Tara’s favorite band, you want to applaud. Oh, he’s a keeper.

You decide to get a drink while you wait. Making your way to the kitchen was a challenge, but once you’re there you huff a sigh of relief. You eye the bottles of booze, a few bottles of soda, a large bowl of punch and a whole keg of beer. You’ve tried beer before, it’s not for you. The punch is just out in the open, who’s idea was that? Hard liqueur scares you, so you play it safe with a soda. You fill up a red cup with ice from a cooler and open a new bottle. As you sip the cool beverage, you resume your scan of the crowd.

“Don’t start without me dude! Hold up!”

A guy wearing a cop costume races by you, almost making you spill your drink all over yourself. You lean back and he pushes past. You watch him turn the corner and disappear.

“Dylan! Watch where you’re going man!”

A male voice calls out beside you. You turn to face the man, trying to hide the fact he startled you. An attractive blonde stands before you, his hair swoops down over his forehead, brown eyes so dark they’re almost black. He’s dressed as a firefighter, well, half-dressed. He wears the boots and pants, suspenders hang loosely off of his hips and a fireman’s hat sits on his head, but his chest is bare.

“Sorry about him, Dylan’s always in a rush to get somewhere. I haven’t seen you around here before, have I?”

You clutch your drink to your chest and put on a polite smile. You shake your head.

“Well, I’m Chad, and you are?”

Of course his name is Chad. He’s the most Chad looking Chad you’ve ever seen. He’s a bit forward, but his company is not uncomfortable. You take a sip of your drink before answering. He rests his hip against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest. A marketing major with a scholarship to play baseball for Yale. He’s funny, but not that interesting.

“Hey, is there a bathroom nearby?” Your chest feels tight, usually that’s a sign of a panic attack coming. You just need a few minutes to yourself. “I just need a second.”

He guides you to the bathroom and follows you inside. Before you can tell him to leave, a hand reaches in and grabs him, yanking him back, hard. You gasp, stepping back through the door to see Chad on the floor. When you look up, you find Sylus standing over him. Your eyes widen, confused by his sudden appearance.

“Fucking prick!” Chad stands and gets in Sylus’s face.

You open your mouth to try to defuse the situation, but instead, you immediately turn to launch yourself towards the toilet. Emptying the contents of your stomach in the most painful way. Your sides ache from the force and you gasp for air. A hand suddenly pulls your hair away from your face and you see Tara kneel down beside you. You can’t even ask her what’s happening, your eyes watering as you heave once more.

Zayne’s voice echoes through the bathroom. You see his hazy figure through tearfilled eyes lifting the cup you left on the bathroom counter up to his nose.

“I don’t smell anything.” There’s an edge to his voice. “I’ll carry her.”

Before you can try to speak again, Zayne is lifting you up. The pretty brunette he was talking to earlier drapes his coat over you and holds your cup carefully. Zayne carries you out of the bathroom with Tara and the other woman close behind.

The house is loud, so fucking loud. There’s shouts and grunts and swearing. You hear Caleb’s voice calling out for Sylus, then Rafayel’s calling out for Zayne. Closing your eyes, you try to shut out the noise so you don’t vomit again. You can see flashes of red and blue behind your eyelids just before everything goes black.

🍁🍂🎃🏈

You wake up on the bathroom floor, a blanket wrapped around you and a towel rolled up to serve as a pillow. Your throat is dry, your head pounding, stomach cramping sharply. As you try to sit up, you hear Tara’s gentle voice.

“Hey, take it slow. Take a sip.”

She holds a bottle of water to your lips and helps you drink. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth, only made worse by the cool water. You look past Tara to see Rafayel and Xavier curled up on the floor next to Tara’s bed, fast asleep. Rafayel’s face pressed against Xavier’s chest, his makeup smeared onto Xavier’s jacket.

“What’s going on?” You rasp.

She hands you the water bottle and you sit up a little straighter, leaning back against the wall. Before she gets a chance to explain, Zayne walks in. His costume has been replaced with sweatpants and a hoodie. Tara looks up at him from her position on the floor.

“The Benadryl worked, stopped the hives from spreading and she hasn’t thrown up in an hour.”

Zayne crouches and places the back of his hand to your forehead.

“Good. Have her drink another bottle of water and then try some crackers. If she gets sick again, we’re going to the hospital.”

Tara nods and you can’t stop the tears from welling up. The longer it takes them to tell you what’s wrong the more terrified you become.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” You beg.

Zayne kneels and looks to Tara, who looks ready to punch a wall.

“We think you were drugged at the party. And it seems you had an allergic reaction. You’ve been in and out for the past few hours.” Zayne explains.

Zayne’s phone rings and he stands, apologizing as he leaves the room. You’re numb from head to toe. Barely keeping it together. Tara crawls over to sit next to you and puts her arm around you, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Wh-where’s Caleb?”

Tara giggles softly and moves over, pointing into the room behind you. You turn to see Caleb passed out on Zayne’s bed, snoring softly.

“And Sy? Sylus?”

“Tara, I need to borrow your car.” Zayne re-enters the bathroom and unceremoniously interrupts the conversation. “It’s urgent.”

Tara nods and hurries into your room. You look up at Zayne, taking in his clenched jaw and serious expression. Your stomach drops, which hurts given what it’s been through.

“Zayne, where’s Sylus?”

He sighs.

“In jail.” 🍁🍂🎃🏈

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: (If you'd like to be added to the Ivy League taglist comment a🎓) @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @alastor-simp @drama-trauma @0tterteeth @mysticcollectionvoid @godzillaglitter @godoffuckedupcats @klmpun @ariallaisawesome @spidy-spider01 @ankitavminkook @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @hauntedbysmutm0 @withering-dream @lostwingz2236 @simpfortheseven @bubbleteakittyy @stellar-seas @babylilxc @havenhope-art @lly5duck @freddy-2002-blog @sylus-hunter @plzdonutpercieveme @saybeyonce @red-f1sh-blue-f1sh @am-drawings AN: I am trying to be as respectful as possible with the delicate nature of what happened to FMC. In no way am I using what happened for meaningless plot. Sometimes a fixer needs to let others help them & knowing they have friends willing to do so with zero hesitation is extremely important. If you're a fixer, please make sure you're letting others help you and you don't beat yourself up for not being able to "do more."

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soluversworld · 1 day ago

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About that one post

In the tags of TKATB post, I saw a post and before things go too far, I would like to address about it.

post https://www.tumblr.com/tenderlyfracturedscheme/787382689005240320/exposing-a-racist-and-predator-artist-in-tkatb?source=share

Before anything else, please note: The person being discussed is an artist in the (TKATB) fandom who goes by the username kazueisaloser. (Please make sure to read the Twitter post in question first—but also be aware that the post is entirely fake and misleading.)

In short, the person behind the post is accusing Kazue of racism and other serious STUFF. I want to clarify that, based on my personal interactions with Kazue, these claims are false. From what I’ve seen, Kazue has always come across as a kind, funny, and respectful person.

To be direct: the screenshots being circulated are fabricated/faked. This appears to be a group of minors attempting to “cancel” Kazue simply because she reminded them that they shouldn't be engaging with 18+ content or spaces.

This is well informed in X/twitter than here. So I'll link the people who spoke about it This post is just making people aware about the post before People go crazy.

IVE 🎀 on X: "I don’t usually address things like this publicly, but for the sake of clarity — we have confirmation of her actual Discord account. This impersonation is false. Please stop spreading misinformation." / X

Lalaluna on X: "We have plenty of evidence of you people making channels just to hate on Kazue, even if you’ve already deleted the server. It’s clearly one of you staging it because why is the conversation at the start different? And fyi Kazue’s actual discord has a toilet pfp frame btw. https://t.co/nvroF2SH94" / X

emi🩶 semi-hiatus! on X: "Kazue NEVER behaves like this. We are friends with her in discord and all her socials are linked in her profile. I hope you know this is literally a cybercrime because this is already too much." / X

Lalaluna on X: "Please explain how she’s the horrible one when you are saying all this about her including wishing physical harm and death upon her and now impersonating her too. All because she rightfully scolded a minor for being in a 18+ space. https://t.co/sKQq95AVGp" / X

Kazue responded to these allegations too. With evidence.

Miss KAZUE! on X: "I refuse to take this poor impersonation attempt lightly. The first ss shows the fake account falsely claiming to be me, even copying my Tiktok profile description. The second ss displays my actual discord acc. I'll also show further evidence of this situation. (1/5) https://t.co/9ML0zjZbne" / X

More posts might come, exposing them as the time of posting this.

Please, for the love of god—don’t jump to conclusions based on so-called “evidence” without knowing the full context.

This is social media. Things can be faked. Screenshots can be edited. Narratives can be twisted. What looks like proof isn’t always the truth.

But the truth does come to light—eventually. So before you choose sides or spread accusations, take a step back. Ask questions. Look deeper.

Because once someone’s reputation is ruined, you don’t get to undo that damage just because you didn’t wait for the full story.

Let’s be clear: minors should not be in 18+ communities. Those spaces are labeled that way for a reason—because the content, discussions, and themes are not appropriate or safe for underage individuals.

And now, instead of respecting those boundaries, some of these same minors are creating fake screenshots and trying to cancel an someone—all because she gave a reasonable and necessary warning about staying out of adult spaces.

That is not okay. Minors are still responsible for their actions. Falsely accusing someone and faking evidence is serious, harmful behavior—no matter your age. Being young is not a free pass to lie or ruin someone's reputation.

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carolina-thiell · 21 hours ago

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Crash Landing (Into You) – Part 3 · Jack Abbott x Plus Size!Reader

Character: Jack Abbott Pairing: Jack Abbott x Plus Size!Reader (Adriana) Format: Fic (Part 3 of 3) Word Count: ~1.7k Genre: Domestic Fluff, Humor, Post-Smut Shenanigans, Established Relationship Warnings: Partial nudity, suggestive content, interrupted intimacy, food kink jokes, public embarrassment Status: Part 3 of 3 — Final part Summary: Post-orgasm bliss turns into post-brunch chaos as Jack attempts pancakes, robe theft, and potentially scandalizing the neighbors. It's messy, sweet, and absurd in all the right ways. In the quiet that follows the laughter, Adriana reminds him that healing isn't always solemn—and Jack reminds her that some disasters are worth loving.

🔗 You can read Part 1 HERE and Part 2 HERE.

Part 3: Fluff and Fuckery.

1:43 PM: Adriana’s Kitchen.

Jack was barefoot, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and Adriana’s pink satin robe draped over one shoulder like a half-assed toga. His hair was still wet from the shower and he looked like a Roman god who just woke up from a nap and decided to make pancakes.

Adriana, sitting at the kitchen table in his T-shirt and nothing else, watched him pour batter into the pan with the kind of concentration usually reserved for surgery.

—You’re aware that’s my robe, right? —she asked, biting into a strawberry.

Jack didn’t look away from the pan.

—It’s technically laundry and it touched your skin. So it’s sacred now.

—You’re such a menace when you’re well-rested.

—You like it.

She did. God help her, she really did.

He flipped the pancake with too much flair, sending it airborne. It landed mostly in the pan. He grinned at her like a golden retriever who knocked over a vase but meant well.

—That was a surgical-level flip.

—You are banned from similes, metaphors, and puns while cooking.

—You’re just mad I look hotter in your robe than you do.

Adriana scoffed.

—You didn’t make me moan into a pillow three hours ago wearing this robe.

Jack nearly dropped the spatula.

—Okay, that’s it. Pancakes go on thighs.

She raised a brow.

—You won’t.

Jack walked over, took the plate, and gently set a warm pancake on her thigh like he was prepping for surgery.

—I just did.

She stared at him and he stared back.

—Don’t you dare eat that off me.

Jack bent down, mouth open, eyes locked on hers like a challenge. That’s when the front door creaked open.

—Adriana? I left my charger... OH MY GOD.

Her neighbor stood frozen, clutching a Starbucks cup, staring at Jack: all tall muscle, half-naked, robe askew and tongue dangerously close to syrup. Adriana squeaked and covered her leg.

Jack? Jack just turned slowly, pancake still in hand.

—Hi, I’m Jack. The boyfriend, surgeon and pancake enthusiast.

The neighbor backed out of the door like she’d witnessed a demonic ritual and Jack looked back at Adriana, unfazed.

—You were saying something about me not eating off you?

She laughed so hard she nearly fell off the chair.

Later, curled on the couch under a throw blanket, the smell of syrup still hanging in the air, Adriana traced lazy shapes on Jack’s chest.

—So. Your dignity’s gone.

—Was it ever really here?

—Your ass was out, Jack.

—Was it a good angle?

—Tragically, yes.

He kissed her temple.

—You really make everything better, you know that?

She smiled into his skin.

—That’s my job. I don’t do trauma surgery, I do emotional triage.

He laughed; it wasn’t the clipped kind she usually got after his shifts. It was the full-bodied, breath-warming, real one.

—I love you, sunshine.

—Love you too, disaster man.

Author’s Note: This is the final part of Crash Landing (Into You). I loved writing this version of Jack: a little unhinged, a little smitten and very bad at keeping pancakes off people’s thighs.

#the pitt #the pitt hbo #dr abbot #dr jack abbot #jack abbot #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot imagine #jack abbot x original character

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mvrosecrypt · 5 months ago

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I've just completed the manuscript for Island of the Bone Worshipers! This must be what Frankenstein felt like, before the terror set in

#welcome to the crypt #island of the bone worshipers #content warnings will be posted in full here #this is not for the faint of heart

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omg-horns · 1 year ago

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Produced, filmed and featured in a silly lil "(Un)hlepful Guide to Classical Music" for all my k-pop loving besties who are open to learning more about classical music.

Inspired by Cunk on Earth (& Between Two Ferns thanks to all the shade my friends threw at me).

Made in partnership with Apple Music Classical! Download for free here~ https://apple.co/ReactToTheK

#hiii guyyyssss #i'm a full time YTer now lol #but this is one of the first strictly classical music content ive made in a while #so posting about it here yay!#my acting is so cringe so be warned #classical music #omg horns #f horn #piano #music theory #kpop #reacttothek #classical music history #tchaikovsky #prokofiev #mussorgsky #uhhh #cunk on earth #between two ferns

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venomade · 6 months ago

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It's one thing to ask someone to replace items due to a mistake, it's another to make someone replace an expensive item that was less than a third full at its full value.

#for context I accidentally left the refrigerator open at a friend's house #and her husband has a huge bacteria phobia so he won't eat anything if it's not properly stored past four hours #I left the fridge open at 1 am and he got up at 6 am. So. Five hours.#(Keep in the mind the dude eats medium rare meat too lmao) (and also the fridge was open by like an inch)#so i was embarrassed and I'm like yeah anything that needs to be replaced ill be pay for it it's on me #well one of these things was this ridiculously expensive little bottle of omega 3 oil #And when my friend went to dump it in the sink it wasn't even half full... like a third if THAT #But as someone who doesn't use that shit I didn't think anything of it #LO AND BEHOLD i found out at the store it is close to 45 dollars #And I just buy it because I said id replace what my friend think needs to be replaced #But she knew how much it was and didn't warn me that I'd be spending that much on that bottle #Idk it feels a little... if it had been me I'd just ask for 20 bucks to replace the remaining contents BUTTTT I'm different i guess #Also while we were cleaning out the fridge she accidentally left the door open too and I could tell #She was a little embarrassed given the way she'd come off being accusatory in her initial morning text #Like yeah girl mistakes happen and you have these giant water crates where the door handle is #Kind of hard to close the fridge unless you remember to put decent force in everytime #Which i wouldn't since I just got here #Anywayyy I will no longer be buying her lunch tomorrow gjgdgdyfuihih #I'm also taking a picture of the fridge after I close it every night for the next five days #Because I am not going to pay for that shit again #venom thoughts #text post

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blametheeditor · 6 months ago

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“Who are we waiting for?”

“Phone Guy,” shakes James to his core. Something that is as unsurprising as the shoulder he’s sitting on shrugging in order to jostle him. He elbows the neck he’s leaning against in retaliation. “My turn to snitch.”

It’s impossible to see Mike’s face from his current angle, but he can perfectly imagine the smirk. A prideful one at finally getting to turn the tables despite the fact James’ ‘snitching’ is the doctor reporting every injury he treats as required per his contract. A report that, despite Mike always being at the top of the list as having the most severe injury whenever there is one, has never gotten the man into trouble other than a lecture on not being so reckless.

It’s enough to earn Mike’s ire. Not hatred, but a little more than just pure annoyance.

But never enough to leave a shrunken coworker to fend for himself. Which in and of itself is a genuinely terrifying concept, and having to rely on someone who would prefer you dead would’ve made it unbearable. James didn’t need to worry about his safety once Mike figured out what happened, however.

They won’t talk about how devastating it nearly had been during the small period of time Mike hadn’t known James was inexpiably smaller than three inches tall. What matters is he eventually was found. Promised protection in the form of getting swept off the ground. Asked to join in watching the restaurant, as if a certain doctor isn’t pocketable and there is absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Though being placed on a shoulder to act as ‘look out’ wasn’t before catastrophic fingers longer than him checked him over for injuries while James was silently panicking because it couldn’t be real, people can’t shrink, that goes against every law of energy and matter conservation.

A fairly standard beginning to the morning, honestly, if they didn’t include the part where he shrunk.

#check in #I have failed ya’ll #I take full responsibility!#…and put a little on the Editor’s shoulders #but I sincerely apologize!#see I had a story Written but not Completed #and then I thought ‘hold on. rewrite before you get too far’#and then I Didn’t Do That and kept writing #and I was nearly done! but I didn’t like it! so it will never see the light of day!!#on a side note #while I Will get it rewrite and FINISHED this time #another story has yanked on me #so hey! if the original doesn’t work out I should still have something to post!#or not!#that’s what ya’ll are here for ;)#TDLR I have n-o idea what story I’m posting this week. or when. or how #hope ya’ll have a great week!#cw #content warning

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pechadream · 8 months ago

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Heyooo, I made a bluesky for mainly posting sketches/quick doodles! 👍 (as well as OC and AU content)

I'd love to have some more mutuals in the SDV and AOT community, so feel free to reach out if you wanna be mutuals! (For both here and on bluesky-)

#Bluesky #Attack On Titan #Stardew Valley #PechaSpeaks #Tumblr is still completely safe for people who want mainly SFW stuff by the way #Because there might be *some* suggestive content on bluesky-#I'll still put the censors for suggestive things on there but yeah this is your warning-#also I'm also still gonna post doodles here- It's just that I usually wait until like the canvas is full #Or I wait until I have a certain amount to post onto tumblr #So bluesky is gonna have doodles that are most likely posted as soon as they're done- so wayyy ahead of tumblr-#Also oc sneak peeks there too maybe...

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artficlly · 3 months ago

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lessons in lovemaking [part two]

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, dry humping, blindfolding, grinding, soft dom vibes reader, soft sub vibes bucky, bucky is touch starved, clothed ejaculation, vague mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, very consensual, safe words, kissing, bucky barnes needs a hug, if you squint, there's some plot, fluff, angst, bickering, reader is lowkey depressed, mentions of past violence, death and war, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: hey guys, i'm literally so nervous posting this... it's been sitting in my drafts for like a month now and i finally worked up the courage to post after spending a couple hours editing :( i'm literally scheduling this to post at like 3am my time so i'm not awake when it goes live i'm so anxious bahaha. the start of this part is a bit slow, pls hold on because theres some light smut and angst at the end. i have plans for further parts that'll look more into the other avengers finding out and the development between bucky and readers relationship and their shared healing. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

It was only on rare occasions that the full team of Avengers (and co.) were in the same room. A momentous historical moment, in fact, normally reserved for two particular occasions:

The world was ending (in some gloriously diabolical way that usually involved aliens, interdimensional warlords, or some ancient, forgotten god with a vendetta) or

Tony Stark was throwing another one of his famously exclusive penthouse parties (which, despite being ‘exclusive,’ still managed to include half of New York—most of whom showed up just to gawk at the Avengers like a travelling circus act sent to entertain them personally.)

Today, it seemed, was neither of those occasions. Thor and the rest of the Asgardians—Bruce Banner included, oddly enough—were busy rebuilding after the destruction of Asgard. Wanda and Vision were off playing happy family elsewhere, and Clint was busy with his own quickly expanding family. The others, agents, specialists, the people whose names you never bothered to remember, were preoccupied with their own missions. Which left you here, filed neatly into the elusive extra category. Not quite an Avenger. Too valuable to be let loose, too unpredictable to be fully trusted.

You leant back in your chair, only half-listening to the conversation beside you. The skin around your thumbnail was raw. You picked at it absentmindedly, peeling back the edge where it had already started to flake, a sting flaring along the nail. You were thinking—too much, maybe—so you let them talk, let yourself disappear as they debated which bar had the strongest drinks and the least pathetic men.

The three of you were early. By some miracle, morning training had ended ahead of schedule. Natasha had wiped the floor with you, to the point where it probably would’ve been more productive to stay on the mat rather than waste your energy hauling yourself back up.

“What do you think?” It took you a second to realise Yelena was talking to you, elbows propped on the table, chin resting in her hand. She was watching you expectantly, sharp eyes narrowed.

You didn’t look up. “I’m not coming.”

She sighed dramatically. “You never hang out with us.” She leant back in her chair with an exaggerated huff, muttering under her breath, “So mysterious and cool. You think you’re better than us?”

Natasha watched on amused, the redhead poised as always. “She doesn’t want to drink in front of us in case she spills her secrets.”

You scoffed. “What secrets?”

“I don’t know.” Natasha leant forward, watching you a little too closely now, like she was gauging your reaction. “How about how that mission went with Barnes?”

Ever since the gala mission, the two had been trying to get you alone, a few drinks in, hoping for something—a slip, an offhanded remark, anything that would confirm whatever hunches they had. You knew what they were fishing for. They weren’t subtle.

You just weren’t playing.

Neither you nor Bucky had said a word about it.

That, apparently, was suspicious.

“She is right, you know. Neither of you will say a word about it. I’m beginning to think something happened—” Yelena cut over her sister with a grin.

“Nothing happened,” you interrupted smoothly, finally lifting your eyes from the wreckage of your thumbnail. “You keep asking, but you’re not going to uncover some dirty secret. Sorry to disappoint."

“Then why the silence? No one would care if you fucked him, you could just plead innocence, overcome by playing the perfect, doting wife—”

You shot her a look, one withering enough to turn bone to dust and ego to rubble.

“I mean… maybe people would care, but I wouldn’t judge you! Super soldier, metal arm… so hot, or whatever.” Yelena prattled on, and you ignored her, exhaling through your nose.

"I think he’s just mortified that people assume something did happen. He’s got enough brooding energy as it is." You muttered.

“I just don’t believe nothing happened, trapped in that hotel room together for a week. Apparently, you were convincing enough to keep the targets off your scent, and we all know Barnes’ acting is as stiff as a cadaver on ice—”

Your face twisted into a look of exasperation before you could control yourself, straightening in your seat. “God, you two really are like vultures, picking around for the slightest bit of gossip—”

“Wow, defensive—”

“Isn’t that the joy in life? Digging for gossip?” Natasha cut back in with a sharp smirk.

“You two are insufferable!” You interrupted, slapping your palms onto your thighs. "I think I’ll keep my secrets. I’ll leave the both of you to continue plotting this fantastical mystery you’ve created in your minds—”

“It’s only fun because you get so worked up about it,” Natasha cut back with a grin you could only describe as predatory. “Plus, I do love watching Rogers squirm listening to all the theories."

“You know,” Yelena mused, swirling the thought around before letting it slip, “I don’t think Steve is as innocent as we think he is. I’m pretty sure I heard him and Sharon—”

She cut herself off just as the door swung open, and the rest of the team filtered in.

You schooled your reaction, easily slipping back into the picture of nonchalance. Bucky’s blue eyes flickered towards yours for a split second before darting away. It had been two weeks since your first ‘lesson’. Two weeks of carefully measured distance, of subtle glances that never lasted too long, of conversations that stayed just professional enough to not raise questions.

Bucky had been doing well—shockingly well, actually. He was receptive to your touch, followed your guidance with careful precision, and was beginning to trust you, bit by bit. You hadn’t gone much further than heated make-out sessions that usually ended with him finishing in his pants, but you weren’t in a rush. You were still feeling out his comfort zones, making sure he never felt cornered or overwhelmed. There wasn’t exactly a handbook for this kind of arrangement.

You slumped in your seat even further, shaking off the feeling. It was fine. No one knew.

Still, the way Bucky avoided looking in your direction made something prickle under your skin.

You were certain the super soldier would combust on the spot if any of his coworkers caught wind of what the two of you had been up to. Hell, he turned red enough just having you perched in his lap during lessons, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. And yet, during meetings, training, or any moment the two of you were forced into the same orbit, you couldn’t help but wonder—did he think about those moments? Did his mind drift back to the ghost of your touch the same way yours did?

You weren’t usually the sentimental type. Nostalgia was a luxury, a foolish indulgence you had long since trained yourself out of. But there was something about him—his quiet hesitance, his wary but willing surrender—that stuck with you. It was a service, nothing more. A transaction in which you gained no tangible benefit, so why did you linger on it? Why did the thought of his gaze meeting yours send a sharp thrill through your chest? Was it because he treated you like a person instead of a tool? Because he understood pieces of you no one else even tried to?

He wasn’t like the others. Never cruel, never greedy. He never reached for more than you offered, never treated you like something to be taken. Maybe that was why you kept coming back. Maybe, for once, you liked the control. Liked the feeling of choosing, of being wanted on your own terms. Of knowing that, for once, you weren’t a marionette dancing on someone else’s strings.

You swallowed the thought down and let your gaze flicker to him. Bucky sat curled in on himself, as if trying to shrink into nothing despite the broadness of his frame. He looked like a wounded animal—no, worse. He looked exhausted. The dark circles beneath his eyes had deepened, his hair unwashed and slightly greasy at the roots. He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t taking care of himself. You didn’t need to be a genius to figure that out.

He stared blankly at the grain of the wooden table, shoulders hunched between Steve and Sam, who were deep in conversation about something you didn’t care enough to eavesdrop on. And for reasons you weren’t ready to name, that quiet, hollow stillness of his sat uneasily in your chest.

You had… concerns for Bucky after what he had confessed to you. But you weren’t sure what to do with those concerns. Or those confessions. You held them close to your chest, unwilling to betray his trust, but understanding instead. You knew it was probably irresponsible of you to sit on them, but you didn’t want to overstep. Besides, Steve and Sam didn’t know you. You’d had maybe three conversations with each of them, most of them mission-related. To them, you were just Natasha and Yelena’s friend—Red Room collateral. You weren’t social, you weren’t a part of their circle, and you sure as hell weren’t someone they trusted.

And if they knew about your arrangement with Bucky… well, you didn’t want to think about what conclusions they’d draw—

“Hi!”

The sudden, chirpy voice nearly startled you out of your seat.

Kate Bishop had arrived—loud, bright, and effortlessly excitable, like a golden retriever in human form. She had that kind of energy that made you suspicious. No one was that happy all the time. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, messy strands framing her face. She was dressed in casual, slightly dishevelled layers, looking like she had just come from sparring but didn’t have the same dead-in-the-eyes exhaustion you did after a training session.

“I’m Kate!” she announced, beaming at you like you were about to be best friends. She pushed her hand out. “Kate Bishop.”

You blinked at her, ignoring her outstretched offer. “I know.”

Her grin didn’t waver, and she coolly withdrew her hand.

“You’re Clint and Yelena’s pet project.” You spoke again, your tone perhaps a little more hostile than necessary.

“It’s apprentice, actually.” Yelena cut in before Kate could argue. “You know, you’re starting to hurt my feelings. Stark has an apprentice, so why are you always giving me shit—”

“Oh yes, Stark’s pet project.” You gave an exaggerated sigh. “What was his name? Paxton, Peyton, or was it Parker?”

“Did I ask for your opinion, K.G.B. Barbie?” Tony Stark’s voice cut in lazily as he walked past, sitting at the head of the table like he owned the place—which, unfortunately for you, he did. As usual, he didn’t look pleased to see you, and the scent of entitlement wafted off of him in waves.

You met his gaze evenly. "No, but I was under the impression that unsolicited opinions were your love language, considering the amount your hand out.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Remind me why we let you sit at the big kids’ table again?”

"You don’t." You glanced at Stark, unimpressed. "But I was invited, shockingly enough. Or are you reckless enough to ignore Fury’s instructions now?"

There it was. That smirk. He smirked at you, and you knew in your heart he had the foulest, most cutting rebuke to lay upon you. He hadn’t even opened his mouth, and you were already grinding your teeth in frustration as you stared back at him, eyes locked onto his smug face—

Kate cleared her throat, stepping in before you and Stark could escalate any further. “So, what do you do?”

Stark held his tongue, so in return, you slid your gaze back over to a nervous Kate. And in that moment, you knew you couldn’t help yourself. Natasha had already shot you a warning look, but the redhead's trained patience for the playboy Stark had unfortunately never extended to you.

"Infiltration, espionage, recon." You shrugged, expression carefully neutral. "I gather information, and then the big boys get to swoop in, throw a few punches, and take all the credit. Isn’t that right, Stark?"

Maybe you had woken up grouchier than usual—not that you could even call the few hours of restless tossing and turning sleep. Or perhaps it was the fact that you’d spent the morning eating the training mat, then had to suffer through Natasha and Yelena’s constant interrogations that had soured your mood. Either way, you weren’t exactly in the best headspace to deal with him.

Truthfully, you thought Stark was a prick, and unfortunately, you had never been exactly shy about that opinion. You and Stark had just never really clicked. Not in the way he had with the others, not in the way Natasha had seamlessly folded herself into the team, or the way Yelena had bulldozed her way in, loud and brash. You existed somewhere in between, tolerated but always lingering on the outside. It wasn’t that you didn’t get along with them. You could banter with Sam, hold an easy conversation with Steve when necessary and trade dry humour with Clint in a way that made you feel almost at home. Even Stark, for all his grating personality, wasn’t always intolerable. But there was always something between you and them—an unspoken distance, a careful line you never crossed. They didn’t entirely trust you yet, and you never gave them a reason to try.

Not because you didn’t want to.

But because trust had never been a luxury you could afford.

Your job was reading people—analysing, dissecting, and manipulating. You understood them better than they understood themselves, saw the cracks in their foundations and knew precisely where to apply pressure. It made you valuable. Indispensable even, but it also made people wary. The team knew what you were, even if they didn’t know the full extent of what you had been. But deep down, you knew they were smart enough to assemble the pieces.

So you kept yourself at arm’s length. You wanted to believe you could have that feeling—belonging. But wanting and trusting were two very different things that you did not dare confuse.

Kate’s eyes lit up. “That’s so cool.”

“That’s a polite way of putting it,” Stark interjected, leaning against the desk. “She’s just a pretty face we send in to distract while the rest of us do the actual work.”

There it was.

Your jaw clenched, but you didn’t rise to the bait. This was your hubris. You could already hear Natasha’s scolding—You really shouldn’t egg him on like that. The two of you are as bad as each other, always trying to get under each other's skin. A bunch of alleycats fighting it’s ridiculous—

Somewhere across the table, Bucky’s eyes had shot up. The movement startled you, and your eyes met briefly. It was milliseconds, maybe not even that, but as soon as you registered your brief exchange, Bucky shied away like a spooked animal.

And when you looked back at Kate, Natasha and Yelena, you found that Natasha had been watching the whole thing. She didn’t speak, didn’t even react. There wasn’t the slightest twitch in her brow or twinge in her lips. She stared like some kind of omnipotent god, and deep down, you knew. You knew she knew.

Maybe she didn’t know the full extent, but the way she stared… it made you shudder.

Fuck.

Kate, however, frowned, turning back to you. “That’s not true, right?”

“Of course not,” you deadpanned, not letting the dread pooling in your stomach let you miss a beat. “I do much more than look pretty. Sometimes I get to torture people—”

Kate’s face pale, then through several stages of grief, trying to figure out if you were joking.

You weren’t about to help her.

“Relax, Kate Bishop, she is messing with you,” Yelena said with an amused grin, though it was tight. A silent warning behind her eyes told you to keep your mouth shut.

Kate still looked mildly concerned, but she shook it off quickly. “Okay, but—so you can fight?”

“Of course.”

“Not as well as me,” Yelena cut in before you could elaborate, grinning smugly. “Don’t worry, Kate. You’re being trained by the best of the best. Me? I am the best. You know this.”

You rolled your eyes, and Kate beamed. That girl was too fucking cute for her own good.

The door swung open before anyone could respond to Yelena. Fury stepped inside, long coat sweeping behind him, his boots heavy against the floor. His usual expression—somewhere between perpetually pissed off and quietly judgmental—was firmly in place beneath the shadow of his eyepatch.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Fury said, his voice edged with dry amusement, though his gaze flicked between you all with razor-sharp scrutiny.

"No, sir," Steve said, back straightening. Natasha, ever composed, merely leaned back in her chair. Stark didn’t even spare a glance.

“First off, I’d like to extend my deepest, most heartfelt gratitude for your attendance,” Fury began, spreading his arms in a broad, insincere gesture, his tone so dry it could have turned the room to dust. “I know how much of a hardship it is, taking an hour out of your busy lives to sit in a comfortable chair and listen to me talk.”

Sam snorted. Yelena smirked. Bucky, as usual, remained unreadable.

Fury’s eye landed on you and Bucky before he tossed a slim tablet onto the table, the display already flashing with the text of a mission report you hardly cared to examine in detail.

“Congratulations are in order. The gala infiltration went exceptionally well despite the odds stacked against you.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgement, catching movement out of the corner of your eye—Sam begrudgingly sliding Fury what seemed to be a twenty-dollar bill. Asshole.

Fury tapped the screen embedded in the table, replacing the mission debrief with a new set of images. An aerial view of a club, snippets of surveillance footage, a grainy close-up of a man slipping out of a side entrance, bodyguards in tow.

“And thanks to that intel recovered,” Fury continued, “we now have a location on our next target. Dmitry Karpin. Friend to H.Y.D.R.A. Dealt in smuggling high-profile weapons in and out of Soviet countries for a time, but now he’s taken to smuggling drugs. Serums, to be specific.”

Across the table, Bucky had gone still. Tension coiled in his shoulders, his hands resting stiffly on the surface, knuckles taut. H.Y.D.R.A. Serum. The words alone were enough to suffocate the room when Bucky or Steve were around. You didn’t let your eyes linger on him long nor allow your frown to deepen.

Fury didn’t acknowledge the shift—maybe he was used to it by now, or perhaps he just didn’t care. His voice remained steady, rolling over the tension in the room as if he were reciting lines from a well-rehearsed script. Karpin’s security detail. The club’s weak points. Entry and exit strategies. The words blurred together, dissolving into background noise beneath the low hum of static in your head. It was hard to focus when you could feel Bucky sitting across from you, motionless, barely even breathing, his whole body locked up like a loaded fucking gun. And the worst part? He probably thought he was doing a good job hiding it.

You didn’t stare, didn’t let your concern show. Instead, you leant back in your chair, tilting your head just enough to feign disinterest. “So, just another fun-filled evening of chatting up sweaty old men for me? Sounds like a dream.” Your voice came out dry, with just enough sarcasm to mask any wobbles.

Fury didn’t spare you a glance. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” he said, tapping the screen again. More grainy footage. More blueprints. The details kept coming, but you barely registered them.

You picked at your thumbnail hard enough that the cuticle began to bleed.

Eventually, the meeting drew to a close. Chairs scraped against the floor as the team rose, murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out. You stood, ready to follow, but—

“You two, stick around,” Fury instructed.

You hesitated, glancing at him, then at Bucky, who had also stalled mid-step. Natasha and Yelena exchanged a knowing look, their amusement not at all subtle. You ignored their barely concealed grins as they disappeared through the door.

Fury exhaled, hands bracing against the table as he surveyed the two of you.

“I’ll be honest,” he said finally. “I wasn’t convinced it would work when I paired you two. Thought maybe you’d kill each other before you got anything done.”

Bucky scoffed quietly, gaze flicking away.

“But you proved me wrong.” His good eye narrowed as he continued. “The mission was a success. You handled yourselves well.”

A beat of silence. Then, just as flatly, “I want to know if you’d be open to working together again. Similar style of operation.”

Your eyes slid over to Bucky, gauging his reaction. You didn’t want to appear too eager or give any more credence to the stories Yelena and Natasha were spinning, but most of all, you didn’t want to put words into Bucky’s mouth. You weren’t in the business of pressuring him in or out of the bedroom.

Bucky was quiet as if silently working through some thoughts before deciding. Finally, he offered a dismissive “Sure.”

You nodded slowly, offering Fury a nonchalant shrug. “I’m fine with that.”

Fury’s lips twitched. Not quite a smirk.

“Well, that’s the most enthusiasm I’ve heard all day,” he deadpanned before shaking his head. “Damn, you two are depressing. Sitting there all broody, staring at me like I shot your goddamn dog.”

Neither you nor Bucky reacted, which was met by a low chuckle from Fury. “Regardless, I appreciate the hard work. You made me a nice chunk of money winning some bets.”

Your brow furrowed. “You bet on us?”

Fury raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “Course I did. Had to make it interesting. Half the team thought you’d get caught or kill each other before the first day was up.”

You blinked. “...Who bet against us?”

“Stark.” Fury’s lips twitched again. “He didn’t think you’d make it past security.”

Of course he did. Prick.

—

"Alright, I’m in position."

You blinked. Bucky sat there like he was awaiting orders, his posture rigid as if he were about to breach enemy lines. His hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, fingers twitching like he wasn’t sure where to put them like touching you required the same level of strategic planning as a high-stakes extraction mission.

You stared, straddling his hips, your fingers ghosting over his collarbone, feeling the tension thrumming beneath his skin. He didn’t quite meet your eyes, his gaze fixed somewhere just past your shoulder as if making direct contact might detonate something neither of you were ready for. For a split second, you half expected him to press a finger to an earpiece and murmur something about securing the perimeter.

In the dim glow of his bedroom, he looked every bit like a man being held hostage rather than one about to receive a very generous favour.

Lately… something felt off. The signs had been subtle at first, the way he always seemed a beat too calculated, his hands found the same places every time, and he would grow still like he was waiting for a command.

And now, looking at him, so wound-up he might actually vibrate, it finally clicked.

Every touch and kiss was executed with the precision of a soldier running a drill rather than a man lost in the moment. It was methodical. He was analysing a strategy rather than experiencing pleasure. You half expected to glance down and see him taking notes—touch here, kiss there, don’t forget to do this. The thought horrified you, but if you were honest… it also amused you.

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“…Bucky, are you seriously treating this like a mission?”

He stiffened beneath you, his reaction just a fraction too quick, too defensive.

“What’d you mean?” His voice was steady, but there was an edge. He was already on guard, bracing for imaginary discipline.

“The way you’re…” You trailed off, head inclining as you studied him. His jaw was clenched, brows drawn tight, the creased skin between them betraying him entirely. One could mistake him for a soldier behind enemy lines, waiting for the crack of a rifle. There were dark smudges under his eyes, no worse than usual. You knew he didn’t sleep well. Nightmares haunted him and left him running on fumes more often than not. You recognised the signs, and it was like you were looking into a mirror.

“It’s like you have a mental checklist,” you murmured, watching for his reaction. “Like every move you make is planned like you’re running through a strategy in your head instead of just… feeling it.”

Bucky remained silent, his lips pressing into a firm line.

Gently, you squeezed his shoulder, fingertips pressing into hard muscle. He was tense—too tense. “You’re not clearing a building, Bucky. You’re not scanning for threats. You’re here with me. Just relax a little, won’t you?”

“I am relaxed.” He bit the words out, though neither his voice nor expression were even remotely convincing.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “I appreciate the attempt to lie, but when I can feel the fucking tension in your body, it’s a little, well, very obvious.” Your hands traced along his shoulders, fingers kneading into the tight knots beneath the fabric of his shirt. His muscles were rock-solid, never fully uncoiled. His body had forgotten how to rest.

“See?” You gave a pointed squeeze. “This is not ‘relaxed,’ Bucky. This is as solid as a goddamn steel beam.”

Bucky scoffed a tiny huff of air through his nose. “Those are my muscles. I work out. Don’t you?”

You gasped in mock delight, lips parting in exaggerated shock. “Oh my God. Did you just make a joke? Bucky, was that a joke?”

Something flickered in his expression for the first time, a sliver of amusement breaking through the ever-present brooding. He finally met your gaze, eyes crinkling just slightly at the corners, and the sight sent a flicker of warmth through your chest.

You grinned. “Well, isn’t that a first? Guess I should mark the calendar.”

His smirk was brief, fleeting—but it was there.

You softened, your voice dropping just a little. “But seriously, you need to loosen up.” Your hands smoothed over his shoulders, slow and deliberate.“Attraction, desire… sex. It’s messy, it’s unplanned. It’s not a mission. This isn’t the army.”

You didn’t dare say the following words in your mind aloud.

This isn’t H.Y.D.R.A.

But you knew that was where his thoughts drifted, that unspoken trouble that plagued you both. Your fingers ghosted along the silver chain at his throat, the faint jingle of his dog tags barely audible under the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t have to follow orders. You can just be.”

“I know.” The words came low, rough, frayed at the edges. You could feel yourself losing him, his eyes growing foggy as if pulled away to a place you couldn’t quite reach to drag him out from.

“I just…” Another breath, deeper this time, as though steadying himself. “They used me. For so long, they used me as a weapon. I don’t know if I can ever be anything different than that. I don’t want to lose control—what happens if I lose—”

“Hey.” Your hands framed his face now, thumbs brushing against the sharp angles of his cheekbones, anchoring him. “Hey, look at me.”

His eyes lifted, hesitant, guarded.

“You are more than that.” The words were gentle but unwavering, as steady as your hands on him. “We are more than that, okay? You’re Bucky. Just Bucky. And you are in control. Say it.”

His fingers curled against your thighs, knuckles pressing into the cotton fabric of your shorts. He was quiet momentarily as though testing the words in his mind before speaking them aloud. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“I’m in control.”

“You’re in control.” You echoed, smoothing your thumb over the faint stubble on his cheek. “And you still want to do this?”

His breath was slow, deliberate. “Yes.”

Your fingers had drifted higher, threading into his hair, the strands silky and cool beneath your touch. You swept a loose lock from his forehead, letting your fingertips linger against his temple. “And if you don’t want this at any point, what do you say?”

“Stop.”

“And what will happen if you say that?”

“You’ll stop. We’ll stop.”

“Good.” You praised him, your smile widening as you felt him squirm beneath you. There was a subtle hitch in his breath as your hands began to trail lower, palms smoothing down to his chest. The pulse at his throat fluttered beneath your fingertips, quick and uneven, betraying the calm he was trying to hold onto. You leant closer, your breath warm against his skin as you pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his temple. Then lower—to the sharp line of his cheekbone, the edge of his jaw, and finally to the hollow of his throat. A shudder ran through him, his grip on your hips tightening just a fraction. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” He uttered after a thick, audible swallow.

You pulled back just enough to study him, to see how his lips parted slightly as though chasing the warmth of your touch. A quiet, almost reluctant noise rumbled in his chest, just shy of a whine. You traced your fingers along his jaw before tilting your head, considering him. “I want to try something.” You hummed to him. “You can say no if it’s too much, but I think it might help you.”

His brows furrowed. “Yeah?”

“I want to blindfold you—”

“You want to what?” He went rigid beneath you, every muscle tightening again as if you’d flipped a switch and snapped him back into defence mode.

“Hold on, just let me finish.” You held up your hand, hoping to counteract his immediate, instinctive reaction.

He huffed, rolling his shoulders as though shaking off the response, but said nothing.

“I want to blindfold you,” you repeated, slower this time, words deliberate. “And I want to kiss you. And touch you. I want you to focus on feeling good rather than anticipating something bad. I want you to just… be here with me. Not thinking about what comes next, not waiting for an attack. Just focusing on feeling. That’s all.”

His expression was cautious before turning to contemplation—as though weighing the idea against everything instinct told him.

“You can say no,” you reminded him gently.

“No, I—” He hesitated, his fingers twitching against your hips.

You shifted back just a little, offering him the space to decide. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do it.”

“No, I—shit—” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I mean—no, I want to. Yes. I want to try that.”

Your gaze searched his. “You’re sure?”

His lips pressed together, and then he nodded once, firmly. “Yes.”

You grinned, pressing a sloppy, lingering kiss to his temple before slipping off his lap with ease and rolling onto the bed beside him. “Do you have something we could use?”

“Uh, I don’t—”

“Like a tie, maybe? You wear suits, right? Or does Stark demand them back the second you step foot in the compound?”

Bucky let out a huff, eyes narrowing. “I don’t want to talk about Stark right now.”

You shot him a knowing look, but before you could tease him further, your gaze flickered downward—and you smirked. Even through the soft material of his sweatpants, you could see he was already half-hard. “Sure.”

A faint flush crept up his neck, staining his ears and cheeks pink. He cleared his throat, voice rough. “Top drawer. In the wardrobe.”

You were on your feet before he could finish, slipping into his walk-in wardrobe. Every apartment in the compound had one, though Bucky’s was noticeably bare. His clothes were monochrome, muted shades of grey, navy, and black. No bursts of colour. No sign of impulse. It was not a lack of wealth. You knew that for sure. No, this was intentional—a desire to blend in, to disappear.

You’d always known he was the type who preferred the shadows, slipping between crowds unnoticed. No wonder he hated the tailored suits Stark and Fury forced him into—arm issues aside. For some reason, S.H.I.E.L.D. were determined to parade him around. Look, the Winter Soldier. He’s a good boy now. He plays nice. Nothing to fear anymore. You were unsure how he felt about such displays, but you were sure it wasn’t too far off from how you felt about it. You had once been in his shoes, though more in the eye candy territory. A doll to dress up and play with, to smile and play the part.

Powerful men enjoyed degrading that which they knew to be dangerous, enjoyed playing with fire, and enjoyed the illusion of control.

Shaking off the thought, you pulled open the top drawer, sifting through a few neatly folded ties. You selected a smooth black silk, running the cool fabric over your palm before returning to the bedroom.

Bucky was still seated at the edge of the bed, stiff as a board. His hands curled into fists atop his thighs, knuckles taut. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

You slowed, holding the tie between your fingers like approaching a spooked animal. Visible to inspect and assess. No threat.

“Yes?” you asked, giving him another chance to change his mind.

His jaw tightened, but he gave a short nod. “Yes.”

You smiled softly. “Just breathe, yeah? Like we always do.” You inhaled deeply through your nose, then exhaled slowly and steadily through your mouth.

After a beat, Bucky mirrored you, chest rising and falling with measured breaths.

You moved behind him, settling onto the bed. He sat still, poised for an attack. Carefully, you draped the silk tie over his eyes, looping it around his head and securing it with a loose knot. It wasn’t tight—one purposeful tug and it would slip free.

You could feel the tension radiating from him. Even blindfolded, he was hyper-aware, attuned to every rustle of the sheets, every shift of your weight. His breathing had turned shallower, the serum sharpening every sound, every sensation.

“If you need to stop for any reason, just say so.”

He jolted slightly at your voice, caught off guard in the quiet. “O-okay.” His voice wavered, and then he cursed low under his breath in Russian.

You grinned. Some habits died hard.

“I’m going to touch you now.” You crept closer, lifting onto your knees behind him. “Just focus on me and how it feels. Nothing else. Can you do that?”

He gave a slow, hesitant nod.

You started at his shoulders, palms skimming over firm muscle, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. Every dip and ridge, every knot of tension. Your hands slid to his collarbone, then across the joint where flesh met metal, mapping out the contrast between warm skin and the smooth, cold vibranium.

He was solid beneath your touch, every muscle taut and solid as it stretched across the bone.

You had noticed the way his shoulders gave him grief. The slight tilt of his frame and the way his left arm always sat heavier. It was incorrect weight distribution; the metal limb was too heavy compared to its flesh counterpart. S.H.I.E.L.D had surely offered him physical therapy—massages, treatment plans—but you doubted he had ever taken them up on it. He didn’t like to be touched by strangers. Too wary. Too untrusting.

“Can I take off your shirt?” you asked softly.

He stilled.

“I don’t—” His voice was lower now, rougher. “My scars. They’re not—”

“I don’t care about that.”

He swallowed hard. “You don’t?”

“No,” you said firmly. “Why would I?”

Without a word, his hand reached behind his head, gripping the collar of his shirt. He yanked it over his head in one fluid motion, tossing the fabric to the floor. You adjusted the blindfold where it had shifted, then let your gaze drift over the broad expanse of his back.

His shoulders were massive, sculpted with muscle. The scars on his left shoulder were brutal—jagged lines of gnarled tissue where the vibranium met flesh. It might have been seamless after the amputation. Painless even. But it had been H.Y.D.R.A who had ruined him, left scars so deep even the Wakandans couldn’t erase.

And H.Y.D.R.A didn’t care for comfort. They cared for necessity. Likely, you suspected, they had wanted him to suffer.

An endless reminder of their ownership.

You swallowed, then placed your hands on his shoulders again, thumbs pressing gently into the base of his neck. You started slow, careful, massaging along the muscle, working your way down. His skin was warm beneath your palms, the mass taut and unyielding at first, like stone beneath your fingers. But you took your time, applying gradual pressure, thumbs circling into the knots built over time.

Beneath your hands, Bucky let out a low, guttural sound—a half-growl, half-sigh of approval. His head dipped forward slightly, chin brushing his chest, an unspoken invitation to continue.

You kept going, kneading deep into the knots in his shoulders, feeling the tension resist before you coaxed it loose. With each press and roll of your fingers, the stiffness unravelled like a cord being undone, thread by thread. You worked methodically, digging your thumbs along the curve where his neck met his shoulders, pressing firmly enough to elicit another low, unconscious groan from him.

You bit back a smile as you felt him lean into you just a little.

Trailing downward, you traced the slope of his shoulder blades, following the ridges of tendons and old wounds. The scars on his left side were tougher, the tissue uneven where flesh met metal, but you didn’t hesitate. Your fingers brushed the seam between the vibranium and skin, then continued downward, thumbs pressing slow, firm circles along the fuse.

Bucky shuddered.

His breath hitched as you dug into the deep-seated strain along his spine. A sharp inhale, a low exhale—he was losing himself to the sensation, surrendering to your touch. You didn’t rush. You worked him slowly, thoroughly, feeling him yield with each measured stroke. When you reached the dip of his lower back, you flattened your hands, smoothing over the tightness that lingered. He was warm now, his skin melting like wax beneath your fingers.

Satisfied, you finally pulled back, smoothing your hands along his spine one last time before shifting your position.

Rising onto your knees, you moved around him, hands trailing over his shoulders as you slid into his lap. His breath stuttered, but he didn’t pull away. You settled against him, straddling his lap, your arms draping lazily over his shoulders. The blindfold was still secure, and he looked… calmer now. Less wound up, his jaw no longer locked so tightly.

“You okay?” You murmured.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Good,” you hummed, tilting your head, lips just inches from his ear. “I think you needed that.”

Bucky exhaled a breathy, almost disbelieving laugh, but he didn’t deny it.

Your fingers trailed up the nape of his neck, nails scratching lightly against the short hairs, and you felt him shiver beneath you. You leaned in, lips brushing over his cheekbone, just at the edge of the blindfold, before trailing downward. You kissed along his jaw, soft and teasing, pressing your lips into the warm skin beneath his ear, down the column of his throat.

His hands fidgeted at his sides, tightening around the sheets. Then, as if giving in to some internal battle, they rose—hesitant but desperate. His fingers found your waist, sliding over the curve of your hips before gripping tight.

You grinned against his skin.

“There you go,” you murmured, voice a breath of silk against his throat.

A sharp exhale left him, his fingers tightening, pressing you closer, holding you in place. You cupped his jaw, tilting his face up before pressing your lips to his.

Bucky groaned into the kiss.

It was soft at first, your mouth moving against his, teasing, coaxing him deeper. But it wasn’t long before he cracked. The tension he had held onto for so long—his control, his restraint—it frayed at the edges with every pass of your lips against his. You pressed closer, shifting in his lap, and the moment your hips rolled against him, his breath stuttered.

A broken sound escaped him, part groan, part whimper.

You did it again just to hear it.

His hands flexed against your sides, his hold firm, frantic, but he didn’t stop you. He only breathed harder, his forehead falling against yours as you peppered kisses along his lips, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Then you moved again, grinding against him slowly, carefully, and Bucky outright whimpered.

He made no effort to stop you—no attempt to control the rhythm, no resistance left in him. His mind was no longer caught in the tangle of right and wrong, of what he should or shouldn’t do.

He only felt.

Only responded.

You kissed him again, deeper, fiercer this time, and he met you with equal hunger.

Bucky’s hands roamed, sliding up your back. Then, his vibranium hand found your face, cradling it between cool, unyielding metal, and you shivered at the contrast—the bite of cold against your flushed skin, the sheer strength in his hold, barely restrained.

He kissed you like he was starving.

You sighed into his mouth, rolling your hips down to meet his, and he groaned—deep and guttural as his body jerked beneath you. He was fully hard now, the evidence pressing against you through his sweatpants, and you couldn't help the soft, breathy giggle that escaped between kisses.

Bucky growled, his grip tightening, his body chasing yours as you rocked against him.

Your hand trailed down, slipping between your bodies, fingers teasing along the waistband of his sweatpants. You could feel the heat of him, the way his breath hitched as your fingertips ghosted lower—

Then he flinched, catching your wrist in a shaky grip.

“Too much,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper, but the strain was evident.

Immediately, you withdrew, pulling your hand away without hesitation. “I’m sorry. Do you want to stop—”

“No.” he replied quickly, breathlessly.

You cupped his jaw, kissing him slowly, tenderly, as he shuddered beneath you. His hands flexed where they held you, his body still trembling with need, but he didn’t pull away. You kept your movements soft and gentle, pressing your forehead against his, letting him breathe as you kissed him repeatedly.

“Is this better?” you checked in between kisses, voice warm, reassuring.

“Yes.” He muttered against your lips.

You kissed him deeper, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip and into his mouth.

His body convulsed beneath you, hips twitching up to meet yours, his breath turning shallow and erratic. You could feel the tremors coursing through him, his muscles tensed, his restraint crumbling with every slow, dragging roll of your hips.

Then, with a choked groan, he stiffened.

A broken moan tore from his throat as he came, his body shuddering beneath you. His breath hitched, then stilled, his head falling back onto the bed as he panted heavily, completely spent.

You smiled, watching his chest rise and fall, his body finally wholly relaxed.

You let him catch his breath, your hands smoothing over his chest in slow, soothing strokes. His eyes were still covered, the black silk of the tie snug against his skin, and for a moment, you just watched him—his expression relaxed in a way it so rarely was, his lips parted as he inhaled deep, steadying himself.

Reaching up, you brushed your fingers over his jaw before carefully undoing the knot at the back of his head. The tie slipped away with ease, and his eyes fluttered open, blinking as he adjusted to the room's dim light. His pupils were blown, irises hazy, but there was something else. Softness. An openness you didn’t often see.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “Hey.”

You leant down, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple before shifting off of him, allowing him to breathe. He hesitated momentarily before sitting up, his movements slow, almost reluctant. His sweatpants were clinging damply to his skin, and he grimaced slightly before rubbing a hand over his face.

“I should, uh—” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, watching as he climbed off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. The soft sound of running water followed soon after. You stayed where you were, fingers idly playing with the silk tie as you listened, giving him the space to clean up and gather himself.

When he returned, his sweatpants had been swapped for a fresh pair, the fabric hanging loose around his hips. His hair was damp in uneven patches where he’d raked wet fingers through it, a lazy attempt at tidying up. He lingered in the doorway, weight shifting from one foot to the other, eyes flickering over you like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

You patted the empty space beside you. “Come here.”

His shoulders loosened just a fraction before he climbed back onto the bed, settling beside you with a quiet sigh. He was warm—solid and steady. Without thinking, you nestled closer, resting your head against his chest. His arm came around you automatically, like muscle memory, pulling you in and holding you there.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then, barely above a whisper, you asked, “Did you like it?”

Bucky exhaled a deep, slow breath. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice lower than usual, like he wasn’t used to saying it. “I did.”

You smiled, tracing absentminded circles against his chest. “What did you like about it?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. When he finally spoke, his voice was careful.

“It made it easier,” he murmured. “Not seeing. I could just… feel. Focus on what was happening instead of everything else.” His thumb brushed lightly against your side. “Didn’t have to worry about if I was doing something wrong.”

You frowned slightly, tilting your head up to look at him. “Bucky, you’ve never done anything wrong.”

“I know,” he said, but his voice was tight, a shadow crossing his expression. “It’s just—” He stopped, mouth pressing into a thin line.

You reached up, smoothing a hand over his cheek. “Talk to me.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he said, “I’m scared of it sometimes.”

Your brows furrowed. “Scared of what?”

“Pleasure.”

His fingers tightened slightly against your side like he was bracing himself, but he didn’t look away from you.

“I was taught…” He inhaled sharply. “That it could only be taken. Taken from me. That it was never given freely.” His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “That it wasn’t mine to have.”

Slowly, carefully, you sat up, shifting so you were fully facing him. He looked at you, expression guarded, but there was something vulnerable beneath it, something fragile in the way he held himself.

You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Those people, the ones who taught you that, they were trying to hurt you, degrade you,” you told him firmly. “Pleasure is to be shared equally. It’s something you deserve.” You squeezed his hand, your voice softening.

His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but no words came.

“I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything to earn it,” you whispered.

He swallowed hard, his grip on your hand tightening. His voice was barely above a breath when he said, “I don’t know if I know how.”

You smiled softly. “That’s okay. We have time.”

You lifted his hand again, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles before settling back down beside him. His warmth seeped into you, but the ache in your chest remained—persistent, lingering. It had nothing to do with exhaustion, the tension in your muscles, or even the way your body still hummed with remnants of touch. No, this ache came from somewhere deeper, from the thoughts unravelling in your mind like a loose thread tugged too far, too fast as you contemplated his confession.

You had always been a giver. That was your role, your purpose. You gave and gave until there was nothing left. Until you were hollow inside. And yet, the world kept asking for more. You wondered if, over time, it had chipped away at your soul, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

The words left your lips before you could stop them, before you had the chance to weigh whether you truly wanted to say them aloud.

“Do you ever feel like you’re not… whole?”

Bucky turned his head slightly, his brows furrowing in the low light, lids heavy as he blinked his dark lashes. He didn’t press or demand, didn’t look at you as if he needed clarification. He just waited, silently, like he knew you weren’t finished.

So you kept going.

“Like with every mission, every fight, every demand, you lose something? A tiny piece of yourself, given away without even realising it?” Your voice dropped lower. Bucky was still beside you, completely still, only his breath tickling your cheek with each slow rise and fall of his chest.

“I don’t even know if I’m still the person I was when I was born or if I’ve just been rebuilt from borrowed parts. Pieces given to me, made for me, shaped to fit what I was supposed to become.” You exhaled a sharp breath. “Or maybe… what they wanted me to become.”

The words were bitter on your tongue, and yet they kept coming.

“And I think… maybe I’m afraid that if I ever showed the real me, the world would reject me. That they’d be disgusted by my soul. By everything I have done.”

A shaky breath left your lips, your voice barely more than a whisper now.

“Because sometimes… sometimes I think the only way people will keep me around is if I give them something in return.”

Silence.

You turned your head toward him, searching his face, waiting for something—anything—that would tell you what he was thinking. You hoped for a look, a breath, a word to ground you. But as your gaze swept over him, you realised his breathing had evened out, his lashes fluttering softly against his cheeks. The sharp furrow of his brow had smoothed, his lips slightly parted in a way that spoke of exhaustion finally pulling him under.

Asleep.

Your words had been lost to him.

You weren’t sure if that was a relief or a disappointment.

Maybe it was for the best. He needed the rest, the peace of slumber more than you did. Even now, in the soft glow of the room, dark circles remained etched beneath his eyes.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling momentarily before carefully slipping out of bed. You moved with quiet precision, gathering your things without making a sound. When you reached the door, you hesitated, glancing back.

For a second, a small, selfish part of you wished he had—wished he had heard you, had held you, had given you something, anything, to quiet the storm inside your chest. But he hadn’t.

And maybe that meant you could take the words back.

Tuck them away for another time.

Or hold onto them forever, maybe all you had needed was to say them aloud, even if only silence itself was listening.

Bucky didn’t stir from his slumber, not even when the door clicked shut behind you.

PART THREE

---

taglist: @civilbucky @buckysbbydoll @rosegarbage @fleurenoir @oikarma @blackstabbath6 @kcbug1128 @ellesbellswrites @thaynarajejheje @wunder-blunder @oceanaroma @dyscalculiaaa @murdocklvrr @pursuedbyamemoryy @fantasyheroine @chronicallybubbly @nikkinss @maryevm @doilooklikeagiveafrack (sorry if it didn't tag anyone properly)

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #beefy bucky #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel #lessons in lovemaking

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angelfrombeneth · 9 months ago

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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT, RIGHT? - N . CHAVEZ

Mature Content Ahead

Nicholas Chavez x F!Actress Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Summary: You and Nicholas are costars in a new show - Grotesqueire. When it is time to film a sex scene, you aren't ready; awkward tension takes over, but you know what they say; Practice makes perfect.

Note: I just want to say thank you so much for 1k followers and I hope you enjoy this one - and if you are new here, check out my other works. I have new stuff coming, feel free to request in my inbox for a specific character.

If you are looking for a part 2, please read this post as it explains my reasonings behind not making a part 2.

The filming for Grotesqueire has been underway for a few weeks now, this is your first big role in any media which you are extremely excited for. The show has an extremely interesting script, which is one of the reasons you wanted to put your all into your audition - which got you here.

"Y/N, I need you on set B in 5 minutes" Someone shouted from outside the trailer.

You sat up, taking your glasses off as you put them aside as you grabbed your contact case, quickly putting your contacts. You grab your veil, before exiting your trailer and walking towards the set. Crew preparing sets around you as you pass through different hallways, so much going on in one place but somehow you still felt at home.

"I was wondering where you were" You heard Nicholas laugh behind you as you turned to face him.

You laughed, turning to him as you smiled. Nicholas was your co-star playing a weirdly odd but kinky priest - and well, he was definitely lovely to look at.

"Nicholas, what are you doing?" The costume leader came scrambling over. "That isn't your costume for this scene- come!" She grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the set.

You laughed at Nicholas getting dragged away before walking upon the director and listening to your scene directions.

You sat upon your position on the set, the hairstylist coming to fit the veil upon your head properly, fixing your hair under it as you noticed Nicholas enter the set from the side of your view. You turn to look at him, your eye quirking up at his costume- well lack of costume.

"Nicholas why are you wearing just a towel?" You laughed.

"I have no idea- This is what Marissa gave me-" He spoke but was quickly cut off by the director on the megaphone.

"Alright! So can we get Talia on set please!"

You watched a girl walk up to you and Nicholas, smiling as she held a clipboard. "Y/N! Nicholas! I am very grateful to meet you, I am Talia your intimacy coordinator"

You blinked. You read the script you knew it was coming but you didnt realise it would be so early on. Nicholas shared a similar face to you.

"Now, don't worry, we will go over the main aspects and go over any boundaries the pair of you have" She smiled.

The next twenty minutes were spent with you, Nicholas and the intimacy coordinator. You were still shocked. It wasn't that you couldn't do it - Nicholas was attractive, and all, and the attraction for the scene was definitely there; it was just the awkwardness of it.

After talking Talia deemed you guys to be okay to proceed, the horn sounded round the studio as the pair of you prepared for your scene.

The tension loomed in the air as you stared at Nicholas from the doorway, reciting your lines.

"Can you dry my back sister... please" He hummed, passing a folded white towel over to you. You took it, walking behind him as he kneeled infront of the bed. You took the towel, slowly sliding it over his back full of gashes, cleaning the blood from his back as your finger ran over the bumps. You let your hand reset to his shoulder, softly gripping it as he hummed, it was what was scripted but it felt.. awkward.

"CUT!-" Shot through the studio as alarms sounded once more. Talia and the director came over, looking at you and Nicholas.

"Maybe lets take a break, you two talk through the scene and try and coordinate something. It feels.." The direction tapped his chin as he spoke.

"Awkward. It was very tense and not good tense" Talia sighed.

The pair of you nodded, walking out of the studio and towards the trailer as you groaned, flinging open the door as you tore the veil off your head yet again.

Nicholas sat on the couch looking up at you snickering as you groaned, sitting beside him, tossing your legs over his as you leaned back on the couch.

"I had no clue we were filming.. that today. It's just.. awkward" You looked at him, watching his body face yours completely as he held your full attention. The way his eyes stared into yours as you spoke.

"I mean if it makes you feel any better, I was pretty nervous. I didnt really know what to do and its just unfamilar i guess, its not a regular sex scene its gotta be.. kinky" He chuckled.

He made you feel comfortable. No pressure at all, the awkwardness was lifting bit by bit, showing the light under the fog.

"I mean what if we just.. you know" You blurted.

"If we just what?" Nicholas looked at you confused. "Fucked?"

"I mean you said it not me.." You looked around the room, trying to break the obvious tension as he laughed at your reaction. "I mean, for the scene right?" You smirked.

"Yeah for the scene." You sat up and looked at him as he spoke, crawling towards him slightly. You paused just before him. One of your hands gripping his thigh as the other held his shoulder.

The pair of you looked at each other for a brief moment, the balance of friends and coworkers about to be broken. As much as you wanted to chant in your head, 'it's for work, for work,' it wasn't, was it.

Your lips softly connected with his, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you in, sitting upon his lap, your legs wrapping and encasing him between. His lips mimicked your movement, slowly moving against yours, matching your pace and rhythm.

You pulled away briefly for a moment, looking at him. "This is work right..?" You chuckled.

"Definitely work" He smirked, pushing himself up, sending you up as he pulled apart your dress, the top clasps undoing as you kissed him forcefully. Your arms flew around his neck as he tugged the dress down slightly.

Your lips interlocked as you kissed each other hungrily, your hands combing through his locks as he slid all over your torso, pinching and grabbing at the flesh.

You both wouldn't admit it, but this was a long time coming. With the subtle flirting on and off set, you both were excited for the sex scene to finally be able to 'get a taste' as Nicholas said - but you didn't expect this.

You pulled away, gripping the waist of the dress as you dragged it up your body, pulling it up over your head as you dropped it to the floor, allowing yourself to fall back against the couch, your arms around his neck as you guided him ontop of you.

"Fuck-" Nicholas groaned, towering above you as he stared down as you adored in your black lace set as you stared up at him. "Is lingere supposed to be apart of the costume.. I mean stockings? Really? The dress covers it" His hand slid down your thigh to your calf, feeling the silky sheer material covering your bare skin.

"Personal touch" You smirked at him, your hands holding his shoulders as he licked his lips.

Nicholas's head turned to the side, kissing the wrist of your hand as it held his shoulder, taking the hand as he kissed up your arm slowly, gaining closer and closer.

You pulled him down towards you, rubbing his neck softly as you pecked his lips softly. "Nick- This is mad" You laughed out.

A smile covered his lips as he kissed your cheek, to your jaw and slowly down your neck, nipping occasionally. "Its practice... for work of course"

"The for work excuse has been.. overused~" You melted into his touch, your hands resting softly upon his hips above the towel that fixed upon his body. You tugged his hips closer, noticing his lips depart from your collarbone as he peered up at you.

He licked his lips, sitting back upon his knees as he stared down at you, that cheeky grin on his face. "Now, got to act suprised in the scene, I'll give you a little preview" He snickered.

You reached forward for his towel, tugging it as it puddled at his knees. You gawked for a moment, you didnt expect him to actually be pare naked under the towel - acting and all, you'd think he'd have some sort of cover.

"The director thought it would be more authentic to be completely naked under the towel.... For gravity purposes" He winked, his hands sliding down your waist, hooking his fingers through the sides of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your body.

"That's a terrible excuse" You laughed as you lifted your feet out of your underwear as he dropped them on the floor. You sat up, pushing his chest as he sat back on the couch.

"Calm down, cowgirl", He snickered, leaning back as he stared at you; one of his heads reached to rest upon your hip, the other clasped around himself as he gradually began to pump.

You reached back, unclasping your bra and sliding it off slowly as you threw it at him, the pair of you laughing. The sight of him leant back against the couch, hot and bothered as he stared at you while touching himself was all too much, it was making you hot and bothered.

"Fuck me, you are so hot Nicholas" you brought your hands to your face, covering your eyes as you let out a loud drawn out sigh.

"Genes.. what can I tell you" He smiled, as you leaned forward pecking his lips softly a few times. His grin seeping into the kiss as you stared at him, your noses touching eachother slightly.

You leaned in, capturing him in a soft kiss, instantly reciprocated as both his hands gripped your waist. You sat in his lap, softly grinding down against him - humming softly within the kiss at the friction.

You noticed his eagerness as his hips would occasionally buckle up against yours, one of his heads to your neck, gripping it softly as he pulled you closer - the pair of you intensely making out.

Your hands raked through his hair, tugging and stroking it as his hand tested with pressure around your neck as you hummed softly, lightly moaning within the kiss.

You pulled away abruptly, looking down as you took him into your hand as you slowly guided him into you as you let out a light and soft moan, which was sounded out by his own moan.

"Fuckkkk-" His head fell backwards as his hands fell upon your waist, guiding you slowly.

You looked down at him, your hands holding his shoulders as you slowly rutted your hips against his, grinding down against him. Watching his face twitch in pleasure as his breathing stuttered at each movement.

"You are so vocal" You laughed, pecking his lips softly as you rested your forehead against his, continuing to grind down against him, watching his body for every single twitched movement.

"Cant help it- Does it bother y-you.." He stared up at you, slightly breathless as he grinned, his eyes half lidded.

"Absolutely not.. turns me on if anything" You chuckled, kissing his cheek softly as you leaned down to nibble on his ear lobe as you continued to ride him.

Nicholas continued to groan in your ear, making you smirk as you speed up your movements, dropping your body weight down against him harshly as you bucked your hips back and forth. Cusses spewed from his lips as you continued to do so. 'Fuck' 'Shit' 'Holy Fuuuck-', continued to fall from his lips as you hummed softly, soft moans leaving yours.

You watched him intently as his eyes rolled back, his eyes staying hooded as he tried to steady his breathing. Smirking as you noticed the effect you had over him, especially how cocky he is normally.

Your movements slowed down as you panted softly, leaning against him for balance and he noticed. Nicholas picked you up, causing you to yelp momentarily as you pushed you up against a desk.

"Getting tired?" He smirked, pressing his hands against the wall behind you, as he thrusted harshly forward - causing you to gulp back a moan. Your fists clenching as you stared up at him.

"I thought-" You groaned, at each thrust he made, pressing your hands against his chest as you steadied your breathing.

"Mhm.. You thought wrong; I was definitely enjoying before, though.." He pecked your lips softly, leaning to your ear. "My turn now" He whispered.

His hands hooked under your thighs, lifting your lower body up slightly as he continued to thrust into you. You yelped out, shutting your eyes as you tried to control yourself from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure, trying hard to not let go so soon. His lips harshly locked against your neck, as he sucked and bit down against the flesh.

"Nicholas-" You gasped out, moaning softly as your fingernails clawed down his back harshly.

"Shhhh" He cooed, as he licked up your neck, his hips continuing to slam against yours as the desk rocked below the pair of you.

"So fucking good- holy-" You gasped, staring at him as you laughed out slightly, his lips curling up into a smile as he continued to thrust, his hands holding your hips up just above the desk as you locked your legs around his waist tightly.

He dropped you harshly against the wood, placing a hand on your neck, kissing you roughly as you raced to reciprocate. His tongue halfway down your throat as your hands slid down his chest, your fingers feeling between the crevises of his sculpted chest. His free hand, cupping your breast as he squeezed it occasionally.

You hummed needingly into the kiss as his thumb pressed pressure against the front of your throat, causing you to tighten - which he felt. You could feel the smirk on his face as he kissed you, his tongue exploring your mouth as you helplessly allowed it.

You felt his whole hand clamp down on your neck with pressure. Your breath hitched for a moment at the sheer shock as he pulled away, your foreheads resting against one another, beads of sweat falling and mixing within each other as you gasped, staring into his eyes as he thrust deeply, holding himself within you.

"...Nick.." you croaked out as he stared at you, his eyes blown out with lust as he leaned in, biting your lip between his teeth as he held his eye contact with you, his thumb still pressed hard against the front of your throat.

He took his free hand, sliding his middle finger and index finger past your lips and into your mouth as you stared at him. You gave him no indication against it which caused his dick to twitch. He began to thrust against yet this time harder but slower. Your body rebounded each time, pushing yourself into the wall that you could've meshed into it. You sucked on his fingers, tugging his hair as you run your hand down his face, caressing it as you let out a guttural moan as he trusted once more.

"Good girl.. cum for me" He whispered, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and removing his hand from your neck as his face flew to yours, your lips instantly crashing upon one another as he gripped your hips, pulling you forward and roughly thrusting into you.

You moaned into his mouth, panting heavily as you drew closer and closer to your high. Your leg twitching as you threw your head back as his lips sucked and nipped at your neck as you screamed out loudly. Your hands clawing down his back as you came undone.

You were too dazed in your high, groaning and panting as Nicholas pulled out, groaning as he pumped himself watching as your whole body twitched.

Your legs flung closed as you stared at him, exhausted as he whined before he came on your thigh, whimpering and panting as he did so, his arm leant against the wall behind you as it supported his weight - his face mere centermeters away.

"Holy fuck-" You chuckled, out of breath as you stared at him.

His chest rose and fell as he stared up at you with hooded eyes. His finger swiping his cum off your thigh as he held it up to you.

You smirked, leaning forward and sucking it off his finger as you looked at him. He smiled at you before pushing himself off the wall as he stumbled back to the couch, laying back on it as he sighed - catching his breath.

"That was more of a workout than my actual workout sessions.. jesus Christ", Nicholas groaned, his arm resting up above him.

You pulled yourself off the desk, your legs slightly wobbly as you slowly approached him. You sat beside his head, lifting it and resting it against your thigh as you sighed.

"I think we've got the sex scene down, don't you.." You laughed, running your fingers through his hair.

"Oh, definitely" He smirked up at you.

It was safe to say, when the pair of you finally caught your breath you showered and got rechanged into your costumes. You had to cover up all the marks on your neck but for Nicholas it was fine, he was already marked by makeup so hopefully no one could tell the difference.

When the pair of you got to set, you definitely delivered the sex scene, going beyond the script. Hair pulling, finger sucking, tit grabbing, ass grabbing - the lot. Safe to say everyone was impressed.

"CUT! That was exactly what we needed, guys!" The director clapped as you and Nicholas stared at each other, panting slightly. You smirked, looking down at the tent under the towel Nicholas was wearing.

"Please don't move- it'll be so fucking embarrassing", Nicholas begged. You chuckled, patting his chest.

#nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #grotesquerie #charlie mayhew #nicholas chavez x female reader #nicholas chavez x actress!reader #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez fic #angelfrombenethfics

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guppiechuu · 26 days ago

Text

baby, baby, baby 𓂃🧸۶ৎ ˚ʚɞ˚ l.h. (part two is officially out! check it out here.)

exboyf idol!heeseung x youngmom!reader

length: 12.1k

contains: angst, hurt/comfort, abandonment issues, second chances, gaining back trust, ot7 hangouts, lots of teasing (of reader and heeseung), flirting, slow burn, co-parenting, mild explicit language, therapist jungwon, happy ending

warnings: none really... mentions of young single mom and absent father

synopsis: you never planned on seeing Heeseung again, let alone with another man's child on your hip. but when a run-in at the grocery store turns into an evening at your messy, toy-strewn apartment, you're forced to face everything you left unsaid. you're not the same girl he left behind all those years ago, and he's not the same guy that did the leaving. so where does that leave you now?

the question: how much are you willing to bet on second chances? the answer: everything.

⤷ chuu's 💌 ── .✦ finally posting this monster oh my god. this was meant to be a <1k word oneshot, but turned into a full-on fic. excuse me and my indulgences, i just have daddy issues and am in love with lee heeseung.

⤷ 💌 i edited this a ton and added like 1000 words cuz i needed more hehe so enjoy!

——

You cursed under your breath as your shopping bags began to slip through your fingers. From your hip, Hana fussed unhappily, tiny hands clawing at your face as you struggled to adjust your grip on her.

“S’cuse me,” A woman said, giving you an annoyed glance as she stepped around you. The others behind you made sounds of frustration as you struggled to wrangle your babbling child and groceries out of the store’s entrance.

“Would you mind getting out of the way?” A man asked impatiently as one of your bags slipped.

“I’m sorry,” You said, face burning with embarrassment.

Hana began to cry, her tiny body impossibly strong as she twisted in your arms, trying to escape your grasp.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, pushing past you.

You bit your lip, hair falling in your face to hide the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Everything was so hard. Ever since your ex had moved out, you’d had no one to help you.

No one to stay up with Hana when she was fussy, no one to entertain her so you could sneak a quick shower in, no one to get groceries while you washed, and fed, and tended to her.

Your parents were a state away, your friends busy with work or travel—none with kids of their own. No one who understood what you were going through. Standing in the doorway of the grocery store, you felt, for the first time since Hana's father left, the true gravity of how alone you both were.

Another exasperated sigh came from behind you as Hana began to cry in earnest, her shrill voice piercing the air of the store.

“Should’ve left her at home with dad,” An older woman said, tsking as she stepped around you. “New moms these days, thinking they can do it all on their own. That kind of attitude kills marriages, you know."

You opened your mouth to defend yourself—to tell her that you couldn't kill a marriage that didn't exist, to even just curse back at her—when the paper bag you’d managed to hold onto split open, the contents spilling out onto the floor.

“For fuck’s sake,” A man said, shoving past you. His shoulder caught yours, knocking you off balance.

Hana’s weight threw you off-kilter, and you stumbled to the ground, holding her tiny wriggling body to your chest.

You wanted to cry.

Beside you, someone stooped to the ground, hastily grabbing the groceries that had fallen out of your bag. You looked up, the apology already forming on your mouth. As your eyes landed on them, the words died in your mouth.

Heeseung.

Your heart skipped.

He didn’t say anything as he gathered the rest of your things, giving you a hand up. His eyes were glued to the squirming toddler in your arms.

With your groceries collected, you were able to step to the side, Heeseung’s hand still on your arm. The customers who’d gathered behind you filed past, one man glaring at you as he did.

“Finally,” He muttered.

Heeseung’s head snapped in his direction. “Fuck off,” He shot back. Then, looking from Hana to you, he chuckled nervously. “Sorry.”

You were speechless.

How long had it been since you’d seen him? Three years? Three years since he boarded the jet that had carried him out of your life forever.

You remembered it like it was yesterday—ENHYPEN was going on tour, he wasn't sure when he'd be back, or when he'd have time for you again. The group had just started to take off. This was the big break, he’d said. The one that would start the rest of his life.

Going with him was out of the question. Long distance was brutal. Fans were possessive of their favorite members, and a girlfriend was a risk that management couldn't afford. It took all but a few hours for him to be cut from your life. Gone. Erased. Entirely.

And now, here he was. Lee Heeseung, the great heartbreak of your life, standing in the middle of your friendly neighborhood grocery store, eyes darting back and forth between you and the one-year-old clinging to your hip.

Hana made a noise, reaching a hand out at him curiously. He glanced at her, his expression softening. He smiled as he leaned forward, cooing gently while she fiddled with the earring that dangled from his ear.

Your chest tightened.

“Here,” He said, taking the bags from your hands. “Where did you park?”

——

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Heeseung said quietly as he put the last of your things into your car.

He looked just as you remembered him—tall, handsome, soft-faced, and even softer-voiced. He carried a bag of his own, full of items that sent you back to your school days with him—glossy packages of instant ramen, cling-wrapped kimbap, and those energy drinks he always liked.

You tore your eyes from them, trying to shake the memories of late nights in his dorm from your mind.

“No,” You said, meeting his eyes. God, his eyes. Just as deep and intense as you remembered them. “I should be thanking you. Back there,” You gestured awkwardly, “I was… It’s been a long day.”

His eyes darted to Hana again. You could practically see the question forming on his lips, but he was still the Heeseung you knew, far too polite to outright ask.

“Hana,” You said, smiling at the pink-faced toddler in your backseat. "She's one," You added quickly, watching for his reaction.

He nodded, his expression conflicted, like he was working through his thoughts. “I didn’t know…” He said slowly, looking back at you.

“I know. I… didn’t want you to,” You admitted. “You had a lot going on."

His face dropped. “Y/n, I want you to know, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” You said simply, looking down. “You had a life to live. Dreams to chase.” You smiled at him, genuine, although something deep in your heart had begun to ache, starting the moment you’d locked eyes with him. “I was always proud of you for going."

“I shouldn’t have left like that. I know you wanted me to go, and I’m glad I did, but I…” His fingers toyed with the strings of his bag nervously. “…I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.”

You shook your head, pushing the memories away. “Don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge.”

From the car, Hana began to cry again. It was well past her dinnertime, which meant she’d be inconsolable until you got her home and into her high chair, which was… still broken.

You bit back a curse, remembering that you’d needed to run to the store to replace it today. A week of trying to feed her without it had proven nearly impossible. Especially now that you were alone.

You turned back to Heeseung, trying not to feel disappointed that reality was sweeping you two apart again. What was that phrase? Right person, wrong time? Well, this was two for two.

“Anyways," You said. "Thank you. Seriously. I was losing it in there.”

“You headed home now?” He asked, looking between you, as if trying to keep the conversation going. Hanna was bawling, fists clenched angrily.

You nodded, pulling a snack pack from your bag and tearing it open, hoping it’d be enough to satiate her until you got home. If you could get her fed, maybe you’d have time to take care of all the other things that were piled on your to-do list.

There were dishes waiting for you, and sticky counters, and laundry. So much laundry. The light in your room had gone out and needed replacing, but you barely had enough time to sleep there, let alone perform a maintenance job on it.

You sighed out a tired laugh, rubbing your face with your hand. “Um, yeah. She needs to be fed and put to sleep, and there’s some housework stuff. You know, never a boring day,” You joked half-heartedly.

Heeseung hummed. Then, hesitantly, asked, "Where’s her dad?”

The question knocked the wind out of you.

He gazed at you curiously, a hint of concern in his eyes. It made your stomach twist uncomfortably. This was the one thing you didn’t want coming up.

The baby? Sure. Your embarrassing moment in the store? Fine. Even the state of your hair and clothes, covered in stains and baby powder and spit-up, whatever.

But the fact that you were alone, that the person you’d chosen to father your child was nowhere to be found, that stung in the back of your throat. Nothing had changed. You were still the one being left behind.

Heeseung read the look on your face. “Oh,” He said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” You cut him off, not sure if you could take the awkwardness of this conversation any longer. “But, yeah, I should go. I have… a lot to do at home. Everything’s on her schedule these days.”

“Can I help?”

You felt your breath catch for a second time. “What?” You laughed nervously.

Heeseung nodded at your groceries and at the squawking baby in the back seat. “Can I help you? We’re on break. Been doing pretty much nothing but sitting around the house, gaming all day. I’ll come over.”

“Heeseung…” You started, images of your messy baby-proofed home springing to mind. As if he needed to see any more of the disheveled single mom life. “You don’t have to do that, really, you’ve helped enough—”

“Y/n, we've known each other for a long time. I can tell you’re up to your neck right now. I want to help,” He said earnestly. “Will you let me?”

You held your breath, searching his face for some clue as to what this meant for you two. Ten minutes ago, you had no idea he was even back home. And now... he was asking for a step back into your life.

The inside of your cheek stung as you chewed on it. Finally, you sighed. "What the hell. Fine. Here, let me write down my address for you."

There, at the corners of his eyes, you caught it. That glimpse of joy in his expression, of hope. It confused the fuck out of you, but you just waved to him, climbing into your car and wondering what this meant for you.

——

It was practically impossible to walk across your house without tripping over one of the toys that littered the ground. There were dishes all over the kitchen counters, soup stains on the wall behind Hana’s highchair where she'd thrown her spoon, dirty laundry spilling out of your closet and across the floor.

Heeseung didn't seem to care at all.

In fact, the only thing he seemed to care about was your daughter. Her small fists, the rosy color of her cheeks, the bubbling sound of her laughter. You'd known Heeseung liked kids—you'd talked about having them once—but what you didn't know was how much they loved him.

He and Hana hit it off immediately, faster than you'd ever seen her take to anyone before.

Without a high chair, you’d been struggling to find the best way to keep her stationary long enough to feed her. Heeseung, however, only propped her on his leg, one hand around her stomach, the other holding her plastic pink Hello Kitty spoon.

It was like magic.

No crying, no spitting. No throwing or hitting. You watched in wonder as she sat there, hands resting on his forearm. The perfect little angel you always bragged about back in full swing.

Her preoccupation with him gave you a chance to not only make her dinner, but get her pajamas out and set up her bath for later. It was the most you'd managed to get done in a single hour in weeks.

Having Heeseung there wasn’t just helpful, it was... overwhelming. His presence filled your senses—the smell of his cologne intermingled with Hana's baby lotion, the feeling of him moving around the kitchen behind you, his voice mixing with her giggling nonsense in the living room.

It was intoxicating. It was dangerous. Because part of you wished—had always wished—desperately and against all reason, that this was what your everyday looked like.

You tried to dissuade that wish as you bent over the kitchen sink, elbow deep in soapy water and dirty dishes. Heeseung came in from the dining room, holding Hana's little bowl and matching spoon in one hand, her bib in the other.

"All done," He said, placing them on the counter. "Finished the whole thing." He sounded proud. It made your chest tighten.

"That girl sure can eat," You said lightly, grabbing the dishes and submerging them under water.

"Mmm, just like her mom, then," He joked.

Being there with him, joking with him, it stirred something in you. Something you'd spent a long time trying to forget. Your throat closed as he came up behind you, dry hand sliding over your soapy one.

"What—" You started, but he was already pulling the bowl from your hands, nudging you out of the way.

"I got this. Go finish up with her."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, ignoring the fluttering sensation that crawled up your throat. He was helping, just like he said he would. It was meaningless.

Still, the feeling of his palm on the back of your hand had your heart stuttering.

In the solitude of the bathroom, you rested your chin on your hand, watching as Hana dunked her plastic horse under the soapy bathwater. She held it up to you, babbling through the bubbles on your face.

You sighed. "What d'you think? Should we let him stick around?"

She slammed her horse back into the water with a squeal, sending water over the edge of the tub.

“Yeah,” You muttered, half to yourself. “That’s what I thought.”

You looked over at yourself in the mirror, leaned against the edge of the bathtub, your clothes and hair damp from your daughter’s splashing. So different from the girl that Heeseung had left behind all those years ago. The one he once swore he’d come back for.

You felt childish for even remembering that. Everything was different now. He could have anything he wanted. The girls around him were exactly what you weren’t, what you’d stopped being the moment you found out you were pregnant. They might have been your age, but they weren't saddled with motherhood.

You, on the other hand, would never be able to escape it again.

All anyone seemed to talk about with you was the baby. How old she was now, if she’d started talking yet, how well-behaved she was.

Even running into Heeseung, the first thing he looked at was her. It was like watching yourself fade from existence, all trace of what once made you you vanishing into nothingness.

You weren’t fun. You weren’t spontaneous. Not anymore. Motherhood had drained you of all that youthful vitality Heeseung had once loved so much about you. You felt bland. Boring. Nothing to call your own except for your daughter, who seemed to be the most interesting part of your life nowadays.

Looking at Hana now, you knew there was no way that Heeseung was going to make a permanent return to your life, not when there was a child involved.

And yet.

And yet, Heeseung was still around when you were done with Hana’s bath.

He’d finished the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. He’d put the rest of your groceries away and tossed all of Hana’s toys back in their bin. He even took the trash out, and was offering to fix the light in your room when you stopped him.

“Are you gonna make me kick you out?” You said, hands on your hips.

The corners of his mouth quirked, his brow lifting. “You really are someone’s mom, huh?”

“Heeseung.”

“Come on,” He laughed, “I’m already here, I might as well fix it. You really want me to go?”

No, of course you didn’t. Of course, you wanted him to stay and help you with your light, and fix your leaky shower head, and make your daughter laugh herself all the way to sleep.

Of course, you wanted him to find a million other things to help you with, and to let you keep imagining what life would be like if he were to be there. To really, truly be there.

What, were you supposed to say no to all that?

By the time the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Hana was dozing off in Heeseung’s arms, her cheek flat against his shoulder.

You watched from the kitchen doorway, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of them. He swayed slightly, bouncing up and down with a hand to her back.

No one held her like that. Not even her dad. He’d wanted almost nothing to do with her. The diapers, the crying, the mess. He’d decided enough was enough before she was even born. But Heeseung…

“She’s incredible,” He said, glancing back at you. His face was soft, shoulders relaxed. It looked almost like she was as comforting to him as he was to her, with her hand wrapped around the fabric of his shirt.

Your throat was tight. “She is. Takes after me, you know,” You joked, trying to ease the effect that this scene was having on you. Your face was warm.

He chuckled, pursing his lips as she stirred gently. After a moment, he said, “I can’t believe I didn’t know.”

You leaned against the doorframe. “It wasn’t something I wanted you to hear from someone else.”

“Yeah,” He said. “Still.”

Still.

He finally looked up at you, and you saw it—how much he was holding back. How hard this was hitting him, all at once. Sure, it had been a long time, but the emotions on his face were like a second language to you. You could read them in your sleep.

“I’m not asking for anything,” You said quickly, maybe too quickly. “I’m not—bringing you here because I want something from you.”

“I know,” He said. But he kept holding Hana anyway, and when you laid her down in her room for the night, he was still in the living room, waiting for you.

“You do all this on your own?” He asked, keeping his voice low.

“Every day.”

“You’re amazing,” He whispered.

“Thanks,” You laughed.

He followed you into the kitchen. “I always knew you’d be a good mom.”

The comment sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“What?”

“Yeah, didn’t I ever tell you that?”

You stared at him. “No.”

“I’m sure I did.”

“I think I’d remember if you did. So, no.”

He flashed that smile, the one that used to make you weak in the knees. Still made you weak in the knees. “Then I was an idiot.”

You scoffed, eyeing him skeptically. “Whatever. My house is a mess, and I have literally no social life. Look at me, I’m covered in baby food, and I’m not even the one who fed the baby.”

“Yeah, well,” He shrugged, that stupid smile on his face. “You make anything look good.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”

He gasped. “What? No, I’m just a very supportive friend who happens to know that you manage to make everything look sexy, even being covered in baby food.”

Friend.

“Heeseung.” You used to be the love of my life.

“What!” He grinned. “You’re the one who keeps blushing.”

“I am not blushing.”

He shook his head as he laughed, the sound light and pure. “I missed you. God, I missed you a lot.”

You tensed.

“That first year of tour was hell,” He reminisced, leaning back against your counter. “We hardly slept, or ate, or got any moments to ourselves. It was just go, go, go. All day, every day.” He glanced at you. “But being away from you was by far the worst part.”

“Whatever,” You said quietly. There was a lump in the back of your throat.

He hovered as you finished putting the dry dishes away in your cupboard. “It was hard without you there. You know, you’re the reason I debuted in the first place. Because you believed in me.”

Did you ever believe in me? You wanted to ask. Lingering resentment was seeping from the back of your mind, coloring those happy memories a shade darker. How was it so easy for you to leave me?

“It was hard looking out for everyone without you there,” He chuckled. “You always made that part easier. That’s how I know.”

“Know what?” You said, eyes on the plates in your hands.

“That you’d make a good mom. You were already halfway there with me.”

You froze. “Heeseung,” You said slowly, “Don’t.”

“What? I’m just saying—”

“No, you’re not. You’re flirting.”

He gave you a lopsided smile. “Is that illegal now?”

You stared at him. “We can’t do this.”

His smile faltered, just slightly. Enough that you knew he’d heard the part you didn’t say aloud: Not again. I can’t do this again.

“I’m not trying to mess anything up,” He said quietly.

“But you do, Heeseung. You walk in, and you smile, and she adores you, and then what? You go back to your life, and we’re left here pretending this never happened? I’ve been there, done that, okay? And I can’t— I won’t let it happen again.”

He opened his mouth, but no answer came.

“Look, I get it. You were gone for a long time. Being back home carries a lot of weight, I’m sure. But you can’t…” You looked at him, chest aching. “You can’t just come in here and make me feel like nothing’s changed when it has. I mean, look around. I have a kid now. I can’t— I’m not like you. Not anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, a look of hurt flashing behind his eyes.

You ran your hand over your hair anxiously. It was late, you were exhausted, and you were letting your emotions get the better of you. You knew you should stop talking and just send him home, but you couldn’t.

“You have your whole life ahead of you,” You said. “You get to pack up and travel the world, do whatever you want, meet whoever you want. I don’t. That ended for me the second I had her.”

“Y/n,” He frowned, but you cut him off.

“I thought…” Tears pricked behind your eyes. “I thought that maybe things would just be a little different. That I’d still get to—” You caught your breath, the weight of everything you’d gone through rising suddenly, knocking the breath from your lungs. “And then it ended all over again. When her dad left.”

You saw the way his face hardened, a look you hadn’t seen in years. Hurt. Angry. Protective.

“I’m alone, Heeseung,” You whispered.

“That’s not true—”

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s not! You have me—”

“Then where were you!?”

His face fell. You didn’t want him to see you cry, but you were dangerously close. Being near him, seeing that god forsaken look in his eyes, like he was angry with himself, it killed you.

“I didn’t know,” He said quietly. “If I had—”

“You would have, what? Cancelled your tour? Come racing home to help your ex with some other guy’s baby? That’s not true and you know it.”

“I would have found a way to be there for you.”

“Really? You could have called. Once, even. You could have checked up on me, but you didn’t. You packed your things and you left. That’s all anyone ever does, is pack up and disappear.”

“Don’t, y/n. It’s not the same thing. I never would have left you with our kid like that,” He said seriously.

Our kid. The words seemed to burrow into your chest, curling up around the part of you that was still so angry, so hurt, so betrayed.

“No,” You said bitterly, wiping your eyes roughly with your sleeve. “You just left me. Not as big a deal, right?”

He flinched, those big, sad eyes of his wincing painfully.

You knew it wasn’t fair. You knew you were being cruel now, prodding a wound that was clearly still open in both of you, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted, just once, for someone to tell you that you were worth fighting for, that the way he and Hana’s dad had both abandoned you wasn’t your fault. That you weren’t defective. Disposable.

Heeseung held your gaze, brows creased. “I deserved that,” He finally said.

You looked away, jaw clenched.

He took a step toward you, slow, like he was scared you might push him away. “You’re right, I did. I left. I let you believe that I didn’t care about you. I thought… walking away would make things easier. That it would hurt less, instead of dragging it out, making you wait for me. You had a life of your own waiting. I couldn’t do that to you,” He reasoned. “And look at you! You brought a kid into the world, y/n. You never needed me, or anyone else. You’re strong.”

“I’m not,” You argued.

“You are,” He said firmly.

You shook your head, arms tightening around yourself. “I’m not strong. I’m surviving. That’s not the same thing.”

Heeseung didn’t argue this time. He gave you an apologetic look, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t mean to come here and upset you. I wanted… I really did want to help, y/n.”

“You have,” You said, not meeting his eyes. It was hard to speak without your voice shaking, and you didn’t want him to see you cry.

His voice softened, gaze dropping to the floor. “I know I can’t change the past. And you don’t trust me. But we’re back home until the next album’s finished.”

Your chest tightened. So, he was sticking around. Great, you thought to yourself. Just what you needed on top of everything else you had going on.

“If you need me, you can call me. You know that, right?”

You said nothing. Heeseung got his things and left, mumbling apologies as the door closed behind him. You had to catch your breath against the doorframe as the sound of his car faded down the street.

Here you were again. Watching the door swing closed behind him, wishing you were brave enough to ask him to stay.

That night, you went into Hana's room and curled up in the chair beside her crib. Looking at her—the soft fat of her cheeks, the way her tiny chest rose and fell so steadily without a care in the world—was the only thing that kept you from breaking down completely.

You watched her silently, the occasional rogue tear slipping down your cheek. Three years worth of emotions had bubbled up to the surface, crashing over you like a tidal wave of memories and regret. The house was empty again. You were alone.

For the first time, you confronted the hard truth you’d been trying to ignore: no one was coming to save you. You were on your own.

——

Heeseung must have looked upset, because the moment he got back to the dorm, the others were on him.

“Where were you?” Sunoo asked, looking up from his game.

Beside him, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jungwon were sprawled on the couch. Jake watched from the floor, stretched out on his stomach. Niki was curled up in the chair, half asleep.

“Nowhere,” Heeseung mumbled, kicking his shoes off.

“You look like shit,” Jay said bluntly.

“Thanks.”

“I thought you were just stopping at the store?” Jake turned to look at Heeseung over his shoulder. “Geez, you really do look terrible.”

Jungwon looked at him curiously. “Are you okay?”

Heeseung’s mind was still spinning. He could barely form a coherent thought, let alone answer their questions. He brushed them off, wanting nothing more than to disappear into his room in solitude.

But these were his group members, his best friends, and they always knew when something was wrong. They switched the game off and trailed after Heeseung as he made his way to his room, shoving his door open. It bounced against the wall loudly.

Heeseung winced, dropping onto his mattress. His body felt worn, his mind foggy, like he’d spent all day on stage instead of laughing with you in your kitchen. He still couldn’t believe he’d spent the day with you. In fact, he could hardly believe anything about what had happened.

There were no words to describe what Heeseung had felt, seeing you again for the first time. It was like every one of his senses dialed in on your figure crouched in the door, your hair falling over your shoulders. His throat had closed, his fingers curling into his palms by his side.

His heart had nearly leapt out of his chest completely.

And then, there was Hana.

He hoped he didn’t look as surprised as he’d felt, but he knew the chances were small. You’d always been able to read his emotions. You’d been the one to ask him out, after all—sick and tired of how painfully obvious his feelings for you were. No one else had ever came close to understanding him the way you did, not even the guys.

You probably saw right through his easy attitude, straight to the heart of his reaction: seeing you with Hana had scared him shitless.

He pressed a hand to his face. I’m never offering to go to the store for the others ever again, he thought hopelessly.

Jungwon appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. The others poked their heads out from behind, waiting for him to say something first. Jungwon might have been younger, but he was their leader, through and through.

He always knew what each member needed in moments like these. For Heeseung, it was space. And time. Jungwon just stood there for a while, not saying anything.

Heeseung’s voice was rough when he finally spoke. “I saw y/n.”

More silence.

He hadn't talked about you in a long time, mostly because it brought his mood down every time someone so much as mentioned your name. Years later and he was still upset about the way you'd left things.

And now he knew that you were, too.

“I ran into her at the store,” He continued. “Her bag had ripped so her stuff was everywhere, and people were getting pissed.” Fucking assholes. “I couldn’t just— turn the other way, pretend I didn’t know her.”

No one argued with that, but Heeseung still felt the back of his neck go red.

"So I went up to her. I helped her grab her things. She..." He trailed off. "We went back to her's after."

Jake shoulders dropped, looking relieved. "So, what's with the long face? Haven't you been dreaming about this since, like, we left?"

“Yeah, I’m surprised you’re back here,” Jay smirked. “She didn’t want you to stay the night?”

"She has a kid."

That shut them up.

She has a kid. The words sounded foreign in Heeseung's ears. He still hadn't fully wrapped his head around it. The girl he’d been hung up on for years was a mom.

Jungwon’s eyebrows shot up. “Like.. has has?”

Heeseung nodded. “A little girl. Her name’s Hana.”

“So that means she’s…”

“Single,” Heeseung said incredulously, falling backwards onto his mattress. The entire situation was mind boggling. “Hana’s dad isn’t around. Not sure why. All I know is that it was sudden. He just packed up one day and… left.”

Just like I did, He thought bitterly. God, he’d made a number of mistakes throughout his life, but that had to be the worst of them all.

“Damn,” Jungwon said under his breath. “That’s a lot.”

Sunghoon shifted his weight anxiously. “How did she seem?”

Heeseung swallowed. “Tired. She looked so tired. And sad. I could see it in her eyes, even though she was trying not to show it.”

“She didn’t ask for anything?” Jake asked.

“No. She doesn’t want anything from me. She made that pretty clear.” Heeseung dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know what to do. I thought I’d moved on, or at least that I was done holding onto her. But seeing her like that…” His voice cracked, and he looked away. “It’s like everything I’ve been trying to forget just—came back all at once.”

Jungwon finally stepped into the room, going to sit beside Heeseung. The others trailed in after him. It was crowded with all of them there, but Heeseung was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that they were with him. That he didn’t have to spend the night alone with his thoughts.

Like you were now. He thought of you alone in that house, working through the motions of your reunion by yourself. It made his chest ache.

“Shouldn’t have left her,” He mumbled, mostly to himself.

“Are you going to see her again?”

“I don’t know,” He mumbled. “We argued. I think she doesn’t want to believe I could ever be there for her. That I’m just going to leave again.” His throat tightened. “I can’t blame her for feeling that way.”

“Are you?”

“I— no, I don’t want to. But she’s afraid to trust me. And I’m scared, too! What if she’s right? She’s always right. I don’t wanna cause her more trouble…”

Now that he was talking, he couldn’t stop. The others listened intently, nodding along, humming sounds of understanding.

“I’m scared that the more I try to get closer to her, the further I’m going to push her away. She has enough shit going on in her life right now. I don’t want to add to that. But I can’t just let her be. Not when I know she’s too proud to ask anyone else for help.”

“No, not y/n.” Sunoo hid a laugh behind his hand. “That girl would rather die than rely on anyone else. She’s always preferred to figure it out on her own.”

“I know. I don’t want to fuck up her life anymore than I already have.”

“Hey, at least you’re not the asshole who knocked her up,” Jay said lightly.

Heeseung bit his lip, suddenly worried he was going insane.

Worried because the smallest part of him almost wished that he was. He would have never left you alone. And… Well, he’d always liked the idea of you with his kids. He meant what he said earlier—if anyone was going to make a good parent, it was you.

A baby would have killed his career for sure, but… he almost preferred that to the idea of you struggling through parenthood alone.

“So what are you going to do?” Jungwon asked.

“I don’t know,” Heeseung sighed, sitting up. “What if I try to be there for her, and I make things worse? What if she’s right not to trust me? I don’t want to—” He ran his hands through his hair anxiously. “I can’t hurt her again. I’d rather never see her again than have that happen.”

Jungwon pursed his lips, thinking. “It is true that you’ll have to leave again when the next album is finished.”

The others nodded, murmuring in agreement.

“Tour life isn’t exactly fit for a kid.”

“There’s always the chance that people find out about you two.”

“You’d have to be apart for a long time.”

Jungwon nodded. “But… do you love her?”

Heeseung’s face went red. “What?”

“Quit acting embarrassed. We had to listen to you go on about her for a year straight after we left. I think you can tell us if you’re still in love with her.”

He pursed his lips and frowned, mulling the question over. Was he still in love with you?

Who was he kidding, of course he was. How else could he explain the way the world seemed to blur when he caught sight of you in the store? How his body was moving to help you before he even had time to think about it?

Heeseung was in love with you. As in love with you as he was the day he left. Why else had he spent all day at your house doing chores, enjoying every minute? The way you moved around each other, the sound of Hana’s voice responding to yours, the way he could see pieces of you in her. God, he’d only known that girl for a day but he was already feeling protective of her.

Of both of you.

He sighed. “Yes… I do. I am.” He pressed his thumb into his palm, where he’d brushed the back of your hand. “I really missed her,” He mumbled. “But I’m scared to mess everything up. Again.”

“You’re not gonna do that,” Sunghoon said, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, come on. I’ve never seen you make the same mistake twice.”

“Thanks,” He muttered, still unable to shake his fears.

“If you really love her, you’ll find a way to make it work,” Jungwon assured him.

Hearing that brought a small amount of relief to Heeseung’s anxiety, but he still wasn’t convinced. “What if she doesn’t want to see me?” He asked quietly.

Sunoo rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you’re so dramatic. If she doesn’t want to see you, she’ll tell you. Did she?”

“No… not explicitly…”

“Then you still have a chance. Don’t screw it up.”

Heeseung chuckled lightly, feeling slightly better. “I’ll try not to.”

“Screw your feelings, we miss having her around,” Sunghoon joked.

“Yeah, I wanna meet this kid,” Jake said eagerly. “If she’s anything like y/n, she’ll fit in just fine with us.”

Niki hummed in agreement. “Yeah, we never agreed to your break up.”

“Mm. Very inconsiderate of you,” Jay said.

Heeseung laughed, for real this time. He felt his chest untighten for the first time in hours, his shoulders dropping, his jaw unclenching. God, he was grateful for his friends. They were right.

Heeseung had been losing his mind over what he should do when there was really only one option in front of him: to prove to you how serious he was about you. Whether or not you were able to fix things between you two, that didn’t matter to him.

All he cared about was showing you that you could trust him. That you weren’t alone in this, no matter how long you’d spent believing otherwise.

Seeing you today confirmed what he’d known the second he’d left all those years ago: you were the only one for him. And meeting Hana—feeling the warmth of her against his chest, smelling your perfume on her skin, noticing the way her lips curved up in the same shape that yours did—it was the final nail in the coffin.

His life would never be complete without you in it, one-year-old and all.

——

Heeseung’s reappearance in your life didn’t happen immediately.

In fact, it was a few weeks before you heard from him again. Lost in the throes of trying to find a babysitter so that you could pick up an extra shift at work, his text was left buried in calls from your landlord and notices about upcoming bills.

Heeseung Are u busy this weekend? I have some overexcited friends who are anxious to meet that baby of yours.

It sat unanswered for a day.

You didn’t know it, but every single one of the 24 hours that passed before you got back to Heeseung was like knives in his skin. The day dragged by, long and torturous, as he sank deeper and deeper into the belief that maybe he’d been wrong, and you didn’t want to hear from him after all.

He was relieved when his phone buzzed on his desk, your name popping up on his screen for the first time in three years.

Y/N Oh god.

Y/N Are u really gonna bring them over here??

Heeseung Not if you’re not okay with it.

Y/N It’s not that I’m not okay with it. it’s just… weird

Y/N Never thought I’d be introducing your group members to my kid.

Heeseung Definitely weird.

Heeseung Always figured they’d meet ours first but this works too.

Y/N Heeseung.

Heeseung What? Just saying.

Y/N 🙄

Heeseung I’ll be good. I promise. Saturday?

He chewed the edge of his nail as he watched his screen, heart racing at the base of his throat. Your text came in and he couldn’t help the smile that took over his face.

Y/N Yeah right.

Y/N See you then.

You had precious little time to clean up before they got there. When you heard Heeseung’s knock at the door, you were part-way through clearing Hana’s things out of the living room.

Sweaty, hair a mess, sticky toddler on your hip, you pulled the door open to a group of faces you hadn’t seen in years.

The guys stood there for a second, taking you in. Sunoo was the first to break the silence, his face widening into a grin. “Wow,” he said, “Motherhood really does suit you.”

You rolled your eyes, your face warming as you shifted Hana on your hip. “Shut up, Sunoo.”

Hana peeked out at them, fists clutching your shirt nervously.

Jake’s eyes went wide as he crouched down, level with her. “Hi,” He said, his voice going soft. “You’re so cute, oh my god. Mind if we come in?”

Hana smiled shyly, burying her face in your shoulder.

“Sorry about the mess,” You said, stepping aside to let them in. “Can never seem to keep anything clean these days.”

“You should’ve called us,” Sunoo pouted. “We could’ve helped.”

“No way. You guys are busy enough as it is.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jay said. “You should see how these guys live”

“Oh, shut up, Jay. Your room is disgusting. I don’t know how you live in that filth.”

“My room is disgusting!? Should we talk about how you keep the living room—”

“Get out of the way!” Jungwon complained, pushing past them.

Heeseung was the last to come in, messy-haired and bare-faced. He looked nervous, but his shoulders dropped when he caught sight of you.

He paused in the doorway. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah,” You said. “It’s fine. Just… don’t expect her to start doing tricks or anything.”

“Are you sure?” Sunghoon asked, peeking at Hana. “I heard kids can dance these days.”

“Please,” You scoffed. “She can barely get a spoon from her plate to her mouth.”

They laughed as they filed in, avoiding the toys that were scattered around the floor. For a moment, no one wanted to sit down. They crowded around you, pulling funny faces to make Hana laugh, reaching out to pinch her face.

Heeseung hovered beside you, eyes flicking to yours. It felt good to have him close. You’d never had this many people in your house before, not since having Hana. His presence was steadying. Reassuring.

You found yourself wanting to stick close to him as well.

They followed you into the living room, pointing at the photos and finger-painting scribbles hung up on the walls. You noticed Heeseung from the corner of your eye, bending down to grab things from the floor as he went, tossing them into Hana’s toy chest the same way he had when he first came over.

It was instinctual, that desire to help you, to take some of the load off your shoulders. Always had been.

“How are you, y/n?” Jungwon asked, “Besides the cute baby and messy living room.”

“Um,” You sighed, “I’m… managing. Getting used to doing all this on my own. It’s hard but rewarding, too.” You smiled at Hana, pressing your lips to her head and breathing in the soft, sweet baby smell of her hair. “She makes it worth it.”

Your voice was easy, your face relaxed, but Heeseung could see the fatigue in your body. Your shoulders drooped, Hana’s weight sagging in your arms.

Getting used to doing all this on my own. You’d never know how sad it made him to hear you say that.

“I can’t imagine how tired you are,” Jake said, watching as Hana curled a hand around his finger.

You laughed lightly. “I definitely don’t sleep the way I used to. Or, at all, really,” You admitted. “You don’t even want to know how long it’s been since I’ve showered.”

“I can see that,” Sunoo teased, gesturing at the myriad of stains across your shirt. “I like the baby food. It’s a good look on you.”

“Glad to know it’s working on you, jerk,” You said playfully. God, you missed having these guys around.

“Do you want me to take her?” Heeseung asked. The question caught you by surprise. He seemed so easy about it, like it was something he did every day. “You can take a quick shower… if you want.”

“What? No way. You guys are friends, not my babysitters.”

“Not yet,” Niki said, leaning down to coo at Hana’s face.

“Seriously, we don’t mind,” Heeseung insisted.

You bit your lip sheepishly. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely. We’re professionals.” Sunghoon said seriously.

“I mean, we are terrible at music,” Jake added, “But picture books and stuffed animals? I think we got it.”

“Go,” Heeseung insisted softly. “We’re here. Let us help.”

You hesitated. It was such a small thing—showering, putting on a fresh t-shirt—but it felt huge. Like accepting their help would mean finally admitting just how worn out you were.

There was also your protectiveness over Hana, too. You’d never left her with anyone but your parents before. It was why finding a babysitter had become such an ordeal—trusting anyone with your child took an incredible leap of faith.

But then you saw the look in Heeseung’s eyes. The hopeful, almost desperate need to do something for you. He held your gaze, steady, solid.

As if in answer, Hana reached out for him, squirming away from your grasp. She’d always been good with faces, and he was wearing the same jacket he’d worn the first time he came over. She stretched towards the familiarity of his arms and you surrendered, allowing her to climb into them.

“She likes you,” Jungwon said, a big grin on his face.

“Yeah,” Heeseung said, unable to hide the pride in his voice. “I like her, too.”

Seeing her in his arms again brought back the same feeling from before. The one that made you want to see Heeseung with your daughter all the time.

They just looked so… at home together. Like Hana had known him since the start. You hated to admit it, but you were starting to wish that she had.

“All her toys are in there, and there’s snacks in the fridge if she gets fussy. If she gets really upset I’ve got a pacifier in her room—”

Heeseung nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking up at your rambling. “She’ll be great.”

You sighed. “Okay, but if she starts crying—”

“We’ve got it,” Jay reassured you.

Sunoo shot you a wink. “Go on, mama. We’ll look after her.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and slipped down the hall, feeling, for the first time in a long while, that you had people in your corner. It was a good feeling.

——

“She sorta looks like you, Heeseung.”

“Oh, stop teasing him. He’s not gonna let us come back with him next time.”

“You’re so full of it. They don’t look anything alike.”

“She’s got a real Shin Min-a look to her. Old school.”

“She looks like her mom,” Heeseung said, only half-listening to what his idiot friends were debating about.

His attention was mainly on the tiny human balanced on his thighs, her hands tangling in his hair. She was a stout little thing, skin slipping under the slippery fabric of her shirt as he kept a firm grip on her.

A Laker’s jersey. Your guys’ favorite team.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions rising in him. Just being there—with Hana, with you—it was enough to make him crazy. He tried not to feel dizzy as Hana’s hands moved to his face.

“She missed you,” Jungwon said quietly, fidgeting with a plastic airplane in his lap.

For a second, Heeseung thought he was talking about Hana, but no. He was talking about you.

Heeseung glanced at him. “You think so?”

“You should’ve seen the way she was looking at you when she opened the door.”

Jay snickered at him, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Yeah, she was totally checking you out, man.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” Niki chimed in, tossing a stuffed rabbit at Sunghoon. “Don’t act like you didn’t notice.”

Heeseung just shook his head. “She’s just… It’s been a long time.”

Jay shook his head. “Nah, man. You’re still important to her.”

“It’s obvious,” Sunoo agreed. “If Jay noticed it, it’s real.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“Well, you’re not the most observant of people, are you?” He said, side-eyeing him.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. He hoped they were right.

——

The guys started coming around more often after that. They always insisted that they were restless at the dorm and liked having somewhere else to hang out, but you knew it was more than that.

It became something of a tradition to have a big meal at yours at the end of the week, and as time passed, it became easier to rely on them. It felt good to have a kitchen full of noise, a table that wasn’t empty, a house that shook with laughter and music.

They’d bring bags of groceries over and cook these huge, chaotic dinners to share in your dining room. The kitchen was left a mess but they always cleaned up.

Weeks went by and Heeseung stayed behind more and more often, tidying up the rest of the house with you, even helping to put Hana to bed.

Despite your reservations, you liked having him there. You liked the way he’d come through your door unannounced, toting drinks for you and a snack for Hana in his bag. You liked the way he’d get up from the couch when he heard her fussing, and how the others teased him about it in front of you.

“Is that your baby now or what?” Jungwon would laugh, eyes flicking between you and Heeseung with that knowing look.

You’d turn red and Heeseung would just shake his head, smiling.

Even in your hardest moments, he was still showing up for you. Providing you with the comfort and stability that you were trying so hard to give your daughter. You tried to remind yourself not to get too used to his support, but there was no denying it—it was easier to take care of Hana when there was someone taking care of you, too.

“I don’t know what to do,” You sighed, reaching down to pick her back up from her crib. Your phone was tucked between your cheek and your shoulder, Heeseung on the other end of the line. “I’ve tried everything. She just won’t settle.”

His voice came through rough and scratchy with sleep. It was late, and he probably should’ve been asleep hours ago, but you’d started calling each other. A lot. If he wasn’t there in person, he was on your speaker phone, talking to you and keeping Hana entertained.

“Do you wanna try feeding her again?” He asked, yawning.

“I’ve tried. She doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want anything.” You sighed as Hana let out another ear-piercing wail. Her face was red and blotchy from crying. It looked like another all-nighter for you.

“Can you take her to your bed? I think she just doesn’t like being away from you.”

That was certainly true. Hana was getting clingier and clingier these days, spoiled by all her uncles constantly wanting to hold her.

“I can’t, I’m scared that I’ll fall asleep,” You said.

Countless horror stories about parents falling asleep with their babies in their bed had left you anxious to bring her to yours. It was moments like this that you wished her dad was there—that you had someone to take turns staying up with.

“I’ll let you go,” You sighed. “I’m gonna try walking her around the house or something, maybe another bath. Sleep well, okay?”

He hummed as you ended the call, the vibration tickling your ear through the phone. Almost like he was there with you. At least one of you would be able to get some sleep, you thought enviously as you pulled Hana to your chest.

Only, ten minutes later there was a knock at your door.

“Heeseung?” You stared at the man in your doorway. Hana scratched at your face as she wailed up at you. “Are you crazy? What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, smiling as he stepped over the threshold. “Wanted to make sure she was okay,” He said, as if that was a reasonable explanation for showing up at your house at 2 a.m.

“She’s fine,” You said, half-stunned as you shut the door behind him.

Hana let out a disgruntled whine at not having your attention. You raised a brow at her, shaking your head. “You’re such a little drama queen. Look, you’re not even upset anymore.”

It was true. Hana’s cries had slowed to a sniffle as she gazed at Heeseung with wide, glossy eyes. He held a hand out for her to grab onto.

“Had to make sure mom was okay, too,” He said quietly, thumb brushing over her knuckles.

You looked up at him, your chest tightening. His hair was a mess, poking out from under the hood of his sweatshirt. A rush of emotion washed over you at the sight of him, at the dark circles under his eyes, the tired smile on his mouth. The way he was trying—really trying—to be there for you both.

“You didn’t have to,” You mumbled, averting your eyes.

God, even in his most sleep-deprived state he was gorgeous. Eyes burning into yours in the low light. His body hummed with that quiet power that had drawn you to him in the first place—that confidence, that steadfastness. How he seemed perfectly at ease no matter where he was or what he was feeling inside.

Standing next to him, you felt slightly less exhausted. Like simply being around him was enough to energize you.

“I know,” He said softly, “But I wanted to.”

He stepped forward, hands slipping under Hana’s arms with a tenderness that made your heart sting. She let out a giggle as he lifted her up, hands smacking against his chest as he settled her against him.

“She’s always happier with you,” You said quietly. It wasn’t a complaint. Hana really was calmer around Heeseung, and that brought you a sense of peace that you weren’t quite sure how to explain.

He looked at you, his expression softening. “She’s happier when you’re okay,” He murmured. “Come on, let’s try this again.”

Despite his best efforts, Hana was still unhappy in her crib. She clung to his arm as he tried to place her down, voice going up several octaves. You winced at the volume, grateful that you didn’t share walls with your neighbors. They’d have lost their patience hours ago.

Heeseung didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t even flinch as she shrieked, clawing at his hands in frustration. He just scooped her back up, resting her against his shoulder and muttering reassurances over her cries.

You tried for an entire hour—walking her around the house, reading her favorite books and making sure to do all the funny voices, swaddling and unswaddling her, over and over and over. The best luck you had was in your room, like Heeseung had suggested, which both heartened and annoyed you at the same time.

How were you supposed to deny a man with such good instincts?

“You are so dramatic.” You shook your head as Hana hiccupped from your pillow, smiling like she’d never been crying in the first place.

“I wonder where she gets it,” Heeseung said lightly, sitting down on the other side of her.

You tried to stifle a yawn as Hana stretched out, both of your eyes drooping.

Heeseung couldn’t help but smile at the both of you. He’d never met your ex—hadn’t even seen a picture—but he didn’t need to to know that Hana hardly took after him.

Her smile, her mannerisms, that was all you. She was yours, through and through.

“Come here,” He said, pulling Hana closer to him to make space for you to lay next to her.

“I’ll fall asleep,” You protested.

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

Anyone else, and you would have said no. Anyone but him, and you’d have insisted they leave, resigning yourself to another brutal night of no sleep.

But it was Heeseung. He propped himself up on one elbow, his arm curved over Hana’s head.

You sighed in resignation as you settled in on the other side of her, your hand resting over her stomach gently. His hand came down to brush the hair away from your face. His fingers were soft against your temple, the same gentle touch that you used to love so much.

Anyone else and you would have turned them away, but it was Heeseung, and he watched the two of you sleeping like you were the most precious things to him in the world.

——

When you woke the next morning, the sun was peeking through your window, filtering through your blinds and washing your room in soft, white light.

In front of you, Hana was still sound asleep, her fists clenched by her head. On the other side of her, Heeseung was there. Still on his side, shoulders curved inwards protectively. His arm was still stretched out above you both, his hand resting gently against your hair. He’d fallen asleep that way, holding you both like you were his to care for. His to protect.

And waking up that morning, you realized that maybe you were. Maybe you wanted to be. You slipped out from under his hand, trying not to disturb either of them as you rolled the ache out of your shoulders.

You padded into your kitchen, warm light spilling across the floor. Leaning against the counter, you finally admitted to yourself that you had a problem.

Heeseung was doing it. He was making you believe.

You let out a breath.

The nightly calls, the small gestures, the way Heeseung was there for you, it was working. Are you really falling for this? You thought stubbornly, trying to reason your way out of the way you felt about him. How much of it was real, anyways? And how much had you made up in your desire to have him close? Your mind screamed at you not to trust any of it.

He was an idea. You didn’t need him.

But you wanted him so bad.

Your heart warred against this truth, desperate for something—anything—to convince yourself otherwise. But it wasn’t easy to do. The life he’d painted around you in just under a month was like something out of a dream. One you’d had before the baby, before the breakup, when you still felt like dreams like this had merit.

It was everything you’d ever wanted, and that made you suspicious. What reason did the universe have for giving this to you? When it had been so intent on taking things away?

Your thoughts were interrupted as Hana came crawling into the kitchen, slapping her hands on the cool floor. Heeseung trailed in after, looking exceptionally tired with his hair sticking up in awkward places. He yawned, scooping Hana up with practiced ease and perching her against his chest.

“Hey,” He said, bringing her over to you. “Did you sleep well?”

You took her grabbing hand in yours, kissing a good-morning into her hair. “Thanks to you. You’re so good with her,” You said, trying to keep your voice even. Your stomach was fluttering nervously. “I don’t know how you do it.”

He shrugged, giving her a little bounce that sent her squealing with laughter. “It’s easy. She’s a charmer. Just like her mom.”

Your heart stuttered, and you looked away, fighting the stubborn burn in your chest. Heeseung saw it, though. He always saw it.

“I’m glad I came, y/n. Seriously. I slept great.”

“You slept terribly.”

“Alright, fine, I slept pretty badly, but it was worth it,” He insisted. “And I’d do it again. And again, and again, and again,” He laughed, nuzzling his face into her chest. “Can the guys come over today? Unless you want the day to yourself… I know we’ve been over a lot. I can go home if you want.”

Words could not describe how badly you wanted him to stay. “Yeah, of course. I like having you guys around.”

I like having you around, is what you should have said, but you didn’t have to say it for Heeseung to know what you meant. The smile on his face told you that he understood completely.

It was already the beginning of the end for you when the other members came over and started teasing you both mercilessly. Weeks of hanging out at yours had made them bold—and it was clear that they wanted you to address what was going on between the two of you.

“Should we start packing your room up?” Sunoo asked, side-eyeing you both as he came in.

“You might as well just move in, bro,” Jay said, clapping his hand on Heeseung’s back.

You scoffed. “Yeah right, not until he starts paying rent.”

Jay smirked. “He’d do it.”

“Shut up,” Heeseung mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Their banter might have embarrassed you once, but it felt natural now. The way they spilled into your living room, fighting over who got to hold Hana and which toys she wanted to play with more more—it was hard not to feel like this was how it had always been.

You clung to whatever thin resolve you had left as you watched them all with your daughter. No matter how much you tried not to, your gaze always landed back on Heeseung. The way he lifted Hana into the air, blowing raspberries into her stomach until she was screeching with laughter. The way he handed her off to someone else and insisted on helping you get her lunch ready.

Things between you and Heeseung became… different.

It didn’t fluster you as much when the others teased you for being attached at the hip anymore. And you didn’t mind when he’d sit with his arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers brushing the back of your neck.

For every inch you gave, he seemed to take a mile. Eventually, it became commonplace for him to collapse on the couch right next to you, thigh brushing yours, arm stretched behind your shoulders.

The others stopped asking if Heeseung was leaving with them. They knew he’d choose to stay with you.

“Are you just gonna stand there staring at me all night?” You asked, your back turned as you put your dinner leftovers into the fridge. You could feel his eyes on the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“Maybe.” He said, “I like watching you.”

“You’re insufferable.”

He smirked, eyes glinting. “You didn’t seem to mind earlier. When I put my arm around you on the couch, you didn’t move.”

Caught.

“That was different,” You managed, keeping your voice even. He didn’t need to know how much of a rise that simple touch had gotten out of you.

“Was it?” His voice was low as he came to lean against the counter beside you, arms crossed. “Felt pretty natural to me.”

Weeks passed and lines got blurrier. He touched you. A lot. Practically couldn’t keep his hands off of you—brushing a strand of hair from your face, a hand on your lower back, a stroke of his thumb against your temple.

By the time you realized it was happening, that you were really, truly falling for him again, it was too late.

Waking up with your head on his chest, Hana curled between you—it was too late.

His arms resting on either side of you against the counter, his chest to your back as Hana sat on top of it—it was too late.

His hand running back through your hair in front of everyone as he tried to find the scar you’d gotten from hitting your head on his dorm door all those years ago—it was too late.

As much as you tried to manage your affinity for him—remind yourself that he had always been friendly, that this was just a passing thing for him while he was bored at home—it was during your weekly dinner as a group that your feelings became impossible to deny any longer.

You were in the kitchen, putting the dishes away when you heard a sharp crash from the other room—the sound of glass breaking.

Your heart skipped as you dropped the bowl you were holding and ran towards the living room. Someone had knocked a cup from the table, the shards spraying across the floor.

Heeseung was on his feet in a second, scooping Hana up away from the broken pieces, stepping away as the others got up.

You paused in the doorway, your breath catching as you watched him. The others stepped around him to clean up, bickering lightly about who was to blame, but Heeseung’s focus never wavered. He murmured something in Hana’s ear, pointing at the broken cup, bouncing her gently as they swept up the shards.

He looked up and caught your eye, and it was suddenly so clear.

You’d been an idiot.

Looking at Heeseung now, it was impossible for you to deny any longer. Heeseung loved you. How had you managed to convince yourself otherwise?

Old grudges rose in the back of your mind—he left you. he left like it was nothing, like everyone else does, and he’s going to do it again—but for the first time, you pushed them away with ease.

They were words.

And what use were words when there you had actions to prove them otherwise?

Something about that moment, the way Heeseung had gone for Hana first, letting the others handle the mess while he made sure she was alright, made your doubts melt away. His first instinct wasn’t to scold whoever had knocked the glass over, or even to help clean it up.

It was to keep your daughter safe.

You spent the rest of the day with a lump in the back of your throat, the awkward ache of all the things you wanted to say to him. He seemed to notice your change in attitude, that something was bothering you, and he stuck even closer than he usually did, stopping to ask you if you were okay multiple times.

“Will you stay behind?” You asked, glancing up at him. “After everyone goes.”

He looked surprised, but nodded. “Of course.”

The others eventually left again, wanting to go out for dinner. Heeseung promised he’d catch up with them but they just rolled their eyes, not believing him for a second.

With the house empty again, it was impossible for you to dance around it anymore.

Hana was down for her nap—eased to sleep by Sunghoon and Jake’s rendition of her favorite bedtime story. Heeseung was leaned against the counter, as if half-expecting you to say something. And your words sat heavy in your throat, aching to come out.

“You don’t know how much it means to me,” You murmured finally, looking up to meet his gaze, “Having you and the others here. I don’t know how I’ll ever make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to make it up to us, y/n. We’re happy to help.”

“No,” You said, shifting uneasily. “I dont know how I’ll make it up… to you.”

His eyes widened slightly, but you went on before he could answer, afraid that if you didn’t talk now, you’d never be able to again.

“I know…” You started, cringing internally at how difficult this was for you. Your feelings were so strong, why was it so hard to explain them? “I know I was harsh on you when you came over the first time. You were being kind, and I got defensive. I’m not proud of how I behaved at all,” You admitted.

“Y/n…”

You stopped him. “Just—let me finish.”

He closed his mouth, but you saw the anxious twitch of his brow.

“You didn’t have to come back. You didn’t owe us anything, not after the way we left things and definitely not after the way I spoke to you. But you did anyways.” You crossed your arms, feeling self-concious. “I didn’t think that I would ever have this again,” You said, gesturing at the things left over from their visit. “I really thought I was going to do this by myself. And that was fine, I’d made my peace with it, but now…”

You paused, your eyes flicking to the picture Hana had drawn with the others—a mess of scribbles that resembled a house, and a group of people standing in front of it. “Now it’s different. And that’s hard for me.”

Heeseung swallowed, as if gathering every ounce of his strength to keep his voice steady. “It’s okay if… if you don’t want me here, y/n.” He held your gaze bravely, but you could tell the idea hurt him. “If this is too much, if you’d rather… I can go—”

“I don’t want you to go.”

He blinked, startled.

“I know I’ve been guarded, and I’ve been pushing you away. But… but seeing you with her, and with me—it’s made me realize how much I’ve missed this. How much I’ve missed you.”

Heeseung’s brow furrowed as if he didn’t quite believe you. You almost smiled. He was so reserved, hands clenched at his sides, braced for what you were going to say.

“I know I talk a big talk but… I don’t want to do this alone, not if you’re willing to be here. Not if you’re willing to… to be with us. I don’t want you to go.”

“You don’t want me to go.” He said it slowly, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

You bit your lip, laughing a little bit at the look on his face. “No, I don’t.”

Then, his face broke into a grin. His shoulders dropped and he was stepping towards you, pulling you into his chest like he’d been waiting to do it for years.

And he had. He really had.

His touch was overwhelming. His arms wrapped around you, the heat of his throat warm against your cheek. You buried your face into his neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne and the lingering smell of kid that was all over him. All over both of you.

You pulled away, giddy with nerves and relief. “Happy?”

“Happy,” He breathed. “So… what now?”

“I don’t know… what do you think?”

He quirked his head, lips twisting into a smile. “I think… I’ve been waiting a long time to kiss you again.”

Your heart skipped. “Then what’s stopping you?”

He smiled lazily, like he was half-dreaming, and brushed his nose against yours before pushing his lips onto yours. You melted against him, so happy you could hardly think straight.

Heeseung pushed you back against the counter, his hands on your waist as yours threaded through his hair.

“I was an asshole,” He mumbled against your mouth. “I’m sorry”

You shook your head, breathless beneath his lips. “It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

Besides, you thought, that was years ago. And the Heeseung in front of you now was not the same one that had left you behind.

Not by a longshot.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #baby fic #angst #enhypen x reader #boyfriend heeseung #ex boyfriend heeseung #guppiechuu

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karinasbaby · 1 month ago

Text

BREATHE ME IN. ✱ MDNI ❕

synopsis. The ancient bloodline of serpent hybrids was hidden, closed off. Unknown, a mere unconfirmed sighting of them is enough to ring alarms of danger. But here you were, claimed and possessed by a snake that held a voice as smooth as honey and a touch as light as feather— what would happen when your curiosity over his kind gets the best of you and you want to unleash the side of him that was written down in history?

pairing. snake!jake x fem!reader (19+)❕warnings. PURE FLITH, like genuinely disgusting nasty questionable smut. DARK CONTENT, jake is obv a snake, fangs, subspace, blood drinking, mentions of stalking + kidnapping, he has magical venom like an aphrodisiac, venom feeding, unprotected sex, creampies, feeding rituals, supernatural bond formation, belly bulge, tongue sucking + throat fucking, knotting bcs he has a knot, body worship, womb + cervix worship & fucking, Jake has stalkerish tendencies, he bites u multiple times, oviposition like full on eggs cuz hes a reptile, like he lays eggs in u fyi, insane breeding kink like genuinely, soft moments but like just twice in the span of 16k words. word count. 16.7k

a,note. this is by far my nastiest fic i’ve ever written. half of me gen doesn’t want to post this here, it’s my first time ever writing + posting something like this. please read the warnings and minors do not interact. this fic contains dark content and some creepy stuff people might be uncomfortable with, read at your own risk & have a nice day ! + proofread at 9 am with zero hours of sleep (as usual)

The sound of pages turning reverberated through the walls.

You sat on the soft mattress, back pressing against the headboard while a pile of books accompanied your bedside table, fingers flicking from page to page.

A simple warm light dimmed the room, your shared bedroom that almost felt alive, your surroundings felt like they pulsed sometimes. The furniture feeling cold to the touch before turning warmer, this was yours and his sacred place, his nest.

It was where you were most comfortable with being, and he was most satisfied with you being. Engulfed in his warmth, in his pulse that synced with his heartbeat so he connected to you at all times.

The paper in front of you contained drawings, sketches, definitions, explanations. The first few that you skipped revolved around mermaids, wolf hybrids, panther hybrids— till you finally reached the chapter you wanted.

Snake hybrids. The offspring of humans, serpents and vipers.

“Snake hybrids have special characteristics, most of them carry split eyes that dilate at the sighting of a prey. Some have large tongues, dry and barbed. Extending a few inches past what’s considered normal depending on the hybrid bloodline—“

You flipped the page.

“A rare species of serpent crossbreds may be born with multiple different appendages, their tails—“

You flipped another page.

Vision skimming past the words written carefully onto each part, the different anatomies of snakes, their hybrid form and their viper form— you were too indulged in the book to notice the passing glimmer of scales.

Obsidian with a jade iridescence, thick and rough.

Jake slithered towards you quietly, silencing his hissing and the scratch of his scales as he made his way through his nest. Emerald slit eyes that locked in on you. His lover, his mate, his prey.

And before you could turn your wrist to turn the page— you felt it.

The warm, large brushing of his scurry tail. His scales providing a soothing chill before the warmth of his venom pulsed through it. “Entertaining yourself with books about me when I’m right here?” His tone was smooth, deep and hypnotising.

“I was just curious..” you closed the book, the sound of the cover shutting bringing a daunting smile to his sharp features, his eyes raked over you, slits tightening when he tilted his head.

“Hm? About what, love?” His tail circled your ankle before trailing upper, sneaking between the warmth of your inner thighs when you squirmed before wrapping around your waist, fully coiling himself around you as he inched his face closer.

You breathed out shakily, “about your kind..” “what about my kind?” His heartbeat pulsed around the walls in the nest and around you. Tail tensing the slightest bit making you feel the drumming beat that coursed through your viper’s veins.

His question stopped you. A flush warming around your neck at the embarrassment of admitting that you wanted to know about snakes mating. Serpents bonding. Vipers connecting and devoting themselves fully.

Because it’s true— you are curious. So curious as to why Jake has allowed you into his nest, has made you feel the shimmery scales of his tail yet still hasn’t fully claimed you.

The amount of stories you’ve heard of other humans being claimed by their serpent hybrids, the sheer force of their connection, the weight of the love they shared, the way they became biologically altered to accept their mate.. made you feel hollow.

Jake didn’t do any of that with you. Sure, he might’ve told you about his previous mate experiences. You might’ve gained knowledge about a thing or two of a sacred ritual passed down from fanged bloodlines, but you didn’t experience.

You wanted to feel jake connect to you as far as his reptile body allowed him to. You wanted to feel him devote himself completely to you, to mark you, to scent you, to bond to you for life and claim you.

You yearned to be claimed by him.

And Jake could already see the longing in your eyes, he felt it every time your fingers touched his scales. Each time you stared at his long tongue that flicked past his plump lips, he knew. And he wanted to claim you as badly as you wanted him, but he was still scared of hurting you.

Two different kinds, two different species. He had venom coursing through his veins next to his cold blood while yours pumped warmly, he had fangs that ached when he took too long to release while your teeth were half the size of his, even though Jake wanted to claim you— god, he wanted to worship you. There was still an intrusive thought that gnawed his mind that you’ll hurt. That he’ll break you, that you’re not ready for him.

“I could show you what you want to know, satisfy your curiosity..” he trailed off, bringing his clawed finger to trace down your jaw making you nuzzle against his touch. “But I might hurt you.” Jake whispered admittedly, the raise of your eyebrows and the surprise in your eyes almost making him regret telling you.

You wrapped your hand around his, warm. He could feel the unnoticeable tremor in your digits when you laced them through his. Squeezing once. “You’ll never hurt me, Jake.” Reassuring him, you looked straight at him. Allowing him to see the confidence in your gaze. “I know you never will.”

The serpent sighed, inching closer to push his forehead against yours while his tail tightened around your frame. “I’m still worried, but I do want to try.” Lips brushing around yours before he pulled away to let you see him, past his softness, past his worries, past everything.

To see his slit pupils dilate, to see the peek of his fangs that dripped with his nectar-like honey, to fully remind you just what you were asking of him.

God that thought alone made you crave him more.

“I will show you everything.” He purred, “give you anything you want to make you know me. Get your body used to me, to taste me.”

And Jake always kept his promises.

It starts the next day.

You’re in the comfort of his nest, tip of his tail stroking your thigh lazily, he was hovering above your laying frame, close. So close you could feel the swift lick of his tongue whenever it flicked out.

“We have a feeding ritual.” He hisses, voice barely above a whisper as you nod at his words. Concentration fully locked on him, giving him all your attention when he finally gave in to preparing you for him.

He’s inches away from your face, soft breaths fanning your skin as jake continues, “it’s intimate, I will mark your inside with my tongue, and feed you my venom.” You gulped.

Not because you were scared, maybe a small part of you was nervous but you knew about something like this before— a few fleeting articles that were titled with “venom feeding” and if anything, you were anticipating this.

Yet your eyebrows still furrowed, “my inside?” He nodded, “your throat. I’ll mark it with my tongue, claim it as my own.”

“Now let me show you, sweet thing.” And you nodded, he flicked his muscle out slowly this time. The tip passing his lips as his split tongue came into view. Both endings twitching independently as more came out.

His venom infused saliva shined in front of you. The sight of his abnormally long tongue made your mouth water. You suddenly felt a heat rush down your body, settling into your core when Jake showed you just how ready his tongue was to claim you.

Jake smirked at your bewildered expression, the dazed look in your eyes that followed his every move when he retracted his tongue back. “Are you ready?” Without even replying back to another word, your mouth opened for him.

Your innocent obedience making his emerald gaze dilate, your own tongue— sweet and small in comparison to his, lolling out just to show him how ready and prepared you were.

He breathed deeply through his nose, pulling you closer before he hovered his face above yours. And spat.

You gasped at the sight of the wet glob that glistened with his venom. It almost appeared to pulse in your eyes. As if his poison was just as impatient as you were to ruin you.

And when the long string finally landed on your awaiting tongue, you moaned at the flavour. So thick, so warm and sweet. An addictive tingle spreading around your mouth when the venom travelled along your tastebuds.

Your first taste of his nectarine venom, the one he prepared for you, to feed you only.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. A familiar heat awakening in his body when you closed your mouth, humming pleasantly at his venom that your body accepted. He kept trying to focus, reminding himself that something could still go wrong, you could reject his venom, your body could react negatively to it— but you were sloshing it around your mouth like you were tasting your favourite honey.

And Jake knew now that your body didn’t just accept him, it liked him. Enjoyed his taste, the tinge of his claim on your tongue.

“Swallow, sweetheart.” His clawed hands, rough looking but oh so gentle when cradling your face made you have no choice but to keep your eyes locked on his when you swallowed.

Where he stared at your throat, the small gulp of him going down your throat and coating it down on the way— to settle into your stomach, where your body will slowly break it down and he will become a part of you.

That thought alone, of being so close to you that you carry him made him almost lose his mind.

“You took it all so well, angel girl.” You closed your eyes when he caressed your neck, the base of his thumb pressing against your pulse point that sang for him. “You’re ready. Your body accepted me, it’s only fair that I feed it well now.”

And that’s when his tail circled your hips, scales wrapping around you protectively while his index finger tapped your cheek. “Open up again for me.” His demanding tone made you shudder in his hold before you let your mouth fall open again, jaw going slack while jake admired the new nest his tongue will find comfort in.

Your throat tightened around nothing, so wet and warm he couldn’t hold himself back from pushing his tongue out and slipping it inside of you.

His split tips slithered along your tongue. Barbed, wet and divided. You drooled uncontrollably around his muscle when he sank in further, brushing against the back of your throat when you gagged around him, hands gripping at his arms desperately as Jake tried his best to open you up more.

To accept more of him, more of his aching tongue that was about to burst from the amount of venom he held for you, more of his tongue that sent electrifying pulses down his body just from the taste of you.

The taste of your cavern all wrapped around him, trying her best to take more of him in but it felt like he was endless.

“J-Jake..” you mumbled, jaw flexing as it almost began to hurt from the flexion, but Jake was obsessed.

His hair ruffled in all directions, a fusion of your saliva with mixed his dripping down his chin while he kept his eyes closed for a few seconds. Like he was trying to memorise your taste, the feeling of your throat tightening around his tongue. The hot and dripping embrace of your body around his.

“Almost there.” And once he spoke those words— you felt it.

The release. The warm, continuous waves that pumped down your throat. Pure venom.

Poison that swirled straight from his pulsing glands from under his jaw that was altered— it wasn’t lethal, wasn’t dangerous, his body had specifically crafted this venom for a mate.

With the purpose of claiming, of marking, of scenting, of breeding.

It was thicker than the first taste he gave you. Sweeter than the first dribble you felt on your tongue. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when the steady pulses streamed down, you felt the heat radiating off of what you were swallowing, the way it marked its way down your throat all the way to your stomach to tuck itself inside of you. Where it pulsed.

The feeling of being owned from your mouth— your tongue and your throat like this was making a floating sensation swirl around your head. You couldn’t tell if this was from his venom or from the pleasure that you were feeling from having him this close, this connected to you.

But it didn’t matter, because everything felt good.

The forked tips of his tongue stroked down your throat, caressing every warm muscle, every corner and crevice they could reach while your serpent’s venom slipped inside, where you couldn’t help but involuntarily swallow around his tongue.

Jake almost lost it.

You were taking him. A sacred, bonding part of him that he’s never used on anyone like this, he’s never marked anyone like this. Yet here you were, with his barbed tongue so deep down your throat, drool that infused with your spilling tears drizzling down your neck while you sucked him more.

Like you weren’t aware of doing it, like it was your own body’s doing.

And jake continued feeding you. Who else would he feed if not his mate that was taking him in so sweetly? Pretty tight little throat pulsing around him when you gagged before sucking him in more, your muscles trying their best to take him in, to drag him in deeper and to have him continue.

Because Jake knew before you, that this wasn’t just a feeding. This was the start of an addiction.

He didn’t just feed your body his venom to claim you, he did it so your body knows that it’s owned. Knows that it has a viper that will protect it, nourish it, feed it.

And what’s a better way than making you know this by making you addicted to him? By making you crave him. Your throat that he just marked and claimed to need him, his venom becoming the only salvation to your thirst that he awakened. Because you’re his mate.

You’re his other half, you’re his.

It was past midnight when you woke up.

Sweaty, icy cold. Breathing heavily when your entire body tingled, an uncomfortable itch— an uncomfortable burn. A scratch that bled in your throat.

The feeling wasn’t new, you knew you were thirsty, the ache and dryness in your mouth almost made it feel like you were scratching it from the inside when you moved your tongue.

With bleary eyes you reached blindly towards the bedside table, where jake always brought a glass of water for you. Ignoring the shift of scales around your waist when you moved, fingers wrapping around the cooling cup before bringing it up to you.

And swallowing one sip, second sip.

Until you finished the whole glass without even meaning to, but your eyebrows furrowed.

Sleepy confusion clouding your senses when the ache didn’t dull, it continued. It felt like you didn’t even try, the water effectiveless.

Your breathing quickened when the sensation became entirely suffocating. Was the water too little? Was there something wrong with your mouth? You felt yourself almost on the verge of hyperventilating.

Almost, because the tail around you tightened before jake spoke right against your neck.

“Precious?” Voice still laced with sleep, tail unwrapping slightly as you turned around to face him. He could see the slumber slowly fading off your face along with the dampening along your temples. “Is something wrong?”

“My throat..” you sounded hoarse, wincing slightly at the discomfort that came along with moving your mouth, “it feels so dry.. and I just drank water, I think I need more.” You slung your legs down the side of the bed right when his clawed hand held your nightdress.

And then the serpent realised something.

“Baby.. it’s not the water.” Jake coaxed you back into the bed, “what?” You whispered now, the itch intensifying the longer you spent in bed, the longer your mouth stayed dry.

“It’s not the water, you can even test it for yourself.” He quickly reached back and gave you his glass from his side, the liquid sloshing as you brought it to your lips and gulped it in the blink of an eye. Still dry.

Your hand wrapped around your throat in irritation, “then what is it?” “It’s me.”

The serpent sat up on the bed, towering frame hovering above yours as his tail slithered to rest against your hips, “your throat isn't thirsty for water, it’s thirsty for me.” You gulped.

His clawed index ran along your jawline, “you had a taste of my venom, and that’s what your body wants now. It wants me, it knows me. Recognises me as your mate.”

His words, his tone, his slit pupils, his sharp claw— everything felt so territorial. Completely consuming, making you melt against the mattress as he pressed his brawny body to yours. “Your body knows I’m the one that’s supposed to feed it.”

Focused eyes tilted down to where you swallowed nervously, his hand instinctively wrapping around your feverish skin. “So let me feed you.” Jake felt the urge to feed you long before either of you decided to go to sleep, it hasn’t even been half a day since you first tasted him, but he knew you’d crave him again in a few hours.

He still wanted to test it.

To test your body, your senses. To see if you could depend on him, if your body could want him to function. To be hungry for him and his taste. To yearn for him.

Not that he wanted to ever starve you, to deprive you of the one thing his body produced for you. It was quite the opposite. He wanted the bond between you to strengthen, to grow, to make both of you dependent on each other.

He doesn’t waste another minute, don’t want to make either of you suffer because the ache in his fangs is becoming too much.

“Open up.” He demands, fingers gently squeezing your neck when your mouth fell open for him and he sighed. It fuelled him up, awakened an urge inside of him. Whenever your jaw stretched for him, he felt an electrifying excitement bloom in his chest.

A thirst that burned his throat. And just like that he slipped his tongue back inside of your mouth, split ends separating when they reached their home. Slithering in further and further while you both moaned at the feeling.

You gasped at the first drip of venom, so rich, so sweet. Your hands mindlessly reaching to his wrist while he moved to hold yours, interlacing your fingers as he sank deeper.

Going past the back of your throat, relishing in the feeling of you tightening around him before relaxing in acceptance, in recognition before your muscles began to swallow.

He groaned in pleasure when you hummed around his tongue, milking the venom that spilled inside of you for the second time because it was so reliving.

The moment you tasted him again, everything disappeared. The itch, the scratch and discomfort— gone.

Jake was right, it isn’t a thirst for water. It’s for him. The same venom he fed you, the same venom that warmed your insides and infused to your blood in your veins. Accepting him and desiring him.

It felt so intense, so overpowering to have him wrap his cool tail around you, lengthy tongue that fucked your throat shoved in so deep while he still held your hand gently, still kept his other right above your pulse points.

Because that’s where he was now. That’s where his venom pulsed. Right inside of you.

He fed you, nourishing your body and satisfying your thirst as you emptied his glands, falling further into a state of complete euphoria and bliss at being catered for. Limbs feeling heavier with each passing second when you whimpered around his mouth that pulsed more venom down your throat.

“Let go, sweetheart.” Jake whispered, his expression devoted as he memorised the way you looked under him, full of him. “You did amazing for me.. your body responded to me, wanted me. Let go now, little thing. Let me take care of you.” And you were slipping more.

Words enthralling, touch entrancing, tongue feeding. You were completely and utterly bonded.

“Let me fill you up till you sleep again.”

Jake’s scales pulsed around you, once, twice. Each one syncing with the rhythm of his heartbeat that he wrapped around you.

The sleep slipped out of your eyes when you fully registered the familiar warmth, slowly opening your lids to greet his slit pupils that admired you.

“Good morning, little nest.” His accent was more accentuated when his tone was groggy, the slumber still twinkling in his words when he sleepily smiled at you.

“Morning, handsome.” And your big, scary, serpent boyfriend hid his face in the crook of your neck, a specific throb crossing through his tail and your body when his heart fluttered.

He kissed your collarbone while you hummed sleepily, “I wasn’t too rough yesterday, was I?” Your fingers stroked his nape, shaking your head before placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Not at all.”

Jake breathed out a sigh of relief as the weight on his chest was lifted off, the nagging thoughts of hurting you, injuring you or worse— scaring you. All floating away gently while he cradled you closer to him, flicking his tongue out to taste the air that carried your sweetness and your scent.

“You should stay in bed today, love.” He spoke gently, tip of his tail stroking your lower back with his velvety scales. “Let me take care of you today.” “Don’t you always do that, though?” He smirked.

“You’re my mate now. I am bonding to you, I’m the only one who should take care of you.”

Jake’s tone was low, his passion, devotion and protection blazing in each syllable. He was a hybrid after all, human to some extent but his soul was a serpent. Protective, possessive, fierce, demanding.

His mate came first, bond second and pride third. The bloodline has been sacred for centuries, rare and unknown. Some believed that it was that way intentionally. The vipers always hissed quietly, presence cloaked with their fanged bared out.

And even if the lions, the panthers, the wolves walked around freely, their bloodlines rare but loud, serpents were always silent.

That’s what set them apart, that’s what makes them dangerous.

They don’t seek, their mating ritual is vastly different from others. They choose and then they claim, and then they disappear.

Hiss along the shadows, hide behind corners where no one can find them. Because that’s how it’s always been like. That’s what makes Jake’s species unlike any other one.

That’s why your friends freaked out when you first confessed that you were seeing someone— a hybrid, a snake.

Because they declare their mates. They capture and they slither back to the dark.

That’s what happened to you an entire year ago.

You didn’t know that Jake’s attention was on you, that there was a certain pull, a tug he felt whenever he detected your scent. He chose you before you even knew him.

And when the shadows hissed darker at night in your room, when your skin became addicted to the cool of scales on it, when all the alarm signs were going off in your friends’ and families heads that it’s happening right in front of their eyes— you disappeared.

You didn’t fade, you didn’t get to say a goodbye, you slept at night and woke up in his nest the next morning.

That’s how it’s been for the past year, this is your home, where you enjoy your time and flourish in your bubble around him. He’s taken you far away, not a place you recognise, the language you still learn till this day but there are no prying eyes on you.

There are no more hands reaching to you to pull you away— just scales.

And you love it, you’ve grown to obsess over it with time.

“Then take care of me, always.” You don’t have to tell jake twice.

He’s nuzzling his face into your neck, breathing in your love deeply before lifting his head and tapping your cheek, “open.” His pupils dilate alongside yours automatically, “let me feed you now before you get hungry again.” And you do, you let him.

Pretty plump lips, still swollen from yesterday’s feeding falling open as he sighs in pride. He can spot the fading stickiness of his venom on the back of your throat, it’s almost time then.

Jake balances himself on his arms, face just a few inches apart from yours before he opens his own mouth, tongue falling out with multiple strings of saliva that pulsed with his poison extending down the length of his muscle, so long, so lethal yet it made its way to your mouth carefully.

The split ends softly brushing your lips when he released. Steady, long and thick pulses of his warm venom dripping right from his tongue and into your mouth, where you hummed in pleasure, in delight. At the feeling of relief cascading down your body in waves the more he breathed into you.

“Take it all, love.” He whispered, his tongue now moving just to circle around yours, still pulsing and still giving. While you only took, swallowing each and every drop. “Keep yourself full, always be full of me.” Jake lowered himself, tongue slipping right against yours before his divided tips touched the entrance of your throat again— just to stroke.

His eyes were half lidded when he spoke “feeling better now, sweetheart?” And you nodded, dazed and full. The heat of his venom enveloping you, wrapping around you completely and gently loving you. “Good girl.” Then jake retracted his muscle, placing a quick kiss to your open mouth before he chased your tongue.

Both of you instinctively moaning in pleasure when his forked tongue dragged against yours, eyes closing when your candied, gentle, human flavour bursted in his mouth while he kissed and nipped your tongue.

You felt the sting of tears behind your eyes, a heat pooling down towards your core, a craving awakening making your hips twitch under him, right when jake began to suck on your tongue.

“Fuck.. baby..” he took more, mouth chasing after your sensitive tongue while you whimpered under him, still drunk on his venom and now he was sucking your tongue like it was the source, “tastes so sweet.. so addictive.” His lips wrapped more tightly, he sucked harshly, relishing in the vibrations that trailed down his throat from your mouth.

Jake’s hand gripped your hip, to stop you from rutting into him, and his fingertips almost burned from the heat you were radiating, so needy, so eager, so his.

Then with a final suck to the tip of your tongue, he trailed his kisses lower. Open mouthed with his barbed skin stroking you to mark and to claim. “I’ve got you.. I’ve got your throat.” He whispered, his lips reaching your lower stomach as he nipped your hip bone, just enough to graze it with his peeking fang. “And I’ve got you here.” Jake spoke right when his hand cupped your mound.

You gasped, a shudder tensing through your body at the slight feeling of relief, of having him touch you right where you need him the most, where your body yearned for him the most.

And jake chuckled.

A deep, crazed rumble of his chest that almost sounded like a purr, his slender fingers deftly stroked your sopping cunt, leaking and dripping when he has barely touched you, and the thought of you being so ready for him, your pretty little pussy wanting him so much that she’s salivating for him? Was making him dizzy.

He hissed, feral and possessive when his claw ripped your soaked panties open, the lace dangling off of it while he let out a guttural sound at the sight of you, so wet, glistening and tightening around nothing as if you’re inviting him in, welcoming him in— begging him to touch you.

“Look at you..” his claws disappeared in an instant, trailing down your folds gently just to hear you whimper under him. “She’s so needy for me..” he was stunned.

Infatuated, so so in love with your pretty hole, his hole, his womb and his home.

“Let’s see how she’ll react to me..” he spoke with the tip of his finger circling your entrance, swirling your nectarine spit making your whole body flutter under him. “She should recognise me now..” you didn’t know what he was talking about.

Because jake didn’t tell you that his venom doesn’t only make your throat crave him, it doesn’t only make your mouth thirst for him and your body to settle when he’s around.

The venom that he created for you, that ran in your veins right now and reached your womb— marks you.

From the inside out, wholly and entirely. You didn’t know this, but he owns you now. Your throat, your womb, your entire body.

And he is right. Because the second he kisses your entrance, soft lips nuzzling into your quivering walls, the first flick of his venom laced tongue just inside your entrance— barely in, just a simple poke.

Your back arched in the nest.

A broken sob and moan slipped past your lips at the sheer force, the sheer strength of the contraction that coursed through your body, absolutely and utterly divine.

The tears that aligned your waterline now slipped freely, your walls fluttered— tightening, widening, convulsing restlessly as if they were trying to milk something just at the slightest taste of his venom.

You felt the way a deeper part of you opened up— your tight, unscathed and untouched cervix pulsing right before flickering. As if the gate was entirely unsealed now, cervix swollen, low and ready.

And jake felt all of it, he felt the way your thighs twitched and jerked next to his head, he senses the way your pussy awakened, your womb fluttering open in preparation for him.

Because she recognised him, a single taste— a short, almost nonexistent slip of his venom and she released.

“Of course she does..” he laughed in awe, at the feeling of your body burning under him, at the breathless sounds that escaped your falling chest, at the way more slick poured out of you like it was urging him in.

The sight, the sense and the scent of everything alone made his head spin. The serpent felt the way his tail twitched in desperation, fingers shaking as he tried his best to not allow his claws to slip out, his slit pupils dilating so far his emerald iris is gone.

He felt the carnal urge, the primal pull that stirred inside of him. The need and the desire, the programmed, biological response of his kind to claim, to worship, to breed. The very cunt that’s anticipating him. Dripping in arousal and hunger in hopes of luring him in with his venom still pulsing through your veins, so reactive, so responsive.

But not tonight, not yet.

Jake will just worship you for tonight, please and satisfy your needy pussy in preparation for what’s to come.

That’s when he slipped his tongue inside of you. Lengthy muscle that pulsed within your walls at every contraction that he felt, you cried. Fingers gripping around the sheets so hard your knuckles paled, a sheen, thin layer of sweat illuminating your body while you fell apart above his nest.

You looked divine, something holy, something completely sacred.

And the serpent wanted to do nothing more than to devote himself to you. Mind, body and soul.

His pretty mate, his loving mate that accepted and thrived off of his venom— writhing under him, twitching and shaking as moans spilled out of your body, pure euphoria overflowing within you while jake retracted his tongue— only to thrust it back in entirely.

Movements sloppy, uncoordinated and mindless as he fucked your throbbing cunt on his tongue that dripped and drooled with his saliva and his venom, your walls clamped down on his muscle, the first contact of his poison right against you made you feel delirious.

Your body drank him in, tightening walls that he fucked were wrapping around him, milking his tongue that gave more and more of his flavour, his taste and your womb’s sedative.

Jake’s tail slashed behind him, his hips rutting restlessly against the layers of fabric of his nest under him. He felt his senses sparking when your taste filled him up. Eyes wild, claws peeking before disappearing and jake was just getting started.

His breaths were heavy as he felt himself unable to breathe. Tongue so deep inside of you, the forked edges dragged against your pulsing walls while his split tips nuzzled into your sweetest spots, you tasted so good, so tender.

He wrapped your thighs around his head with no intentions of slipping out anytime soon, his mouth suckled around your folds, drenched when his nose brushed against your puffy clit, needy and neglected that from one single stroke, you came.

You weren’t even able to process the build up of your climax, nor were you able to comprehend the waves of pleasure that crashed upon you, one after the other. Merciless as jake fucked you through it. Tongue piercing you faster, rougher and deeper.

Until you felt him reach your peak.

The one sacred spot inside of you. Hidden and tucked away so deep in safety, in security. The one spot that jake claimed.

The one the serpent wanted and marked. It belongs to him now, your fluttering, dripping cervix that throbbed the moment his poisoned tips reached it.

And you screamed, the sensation so new, so uncomfortable yet soothing— so painful yet pleasant, it made you feel like your mind was melting away, your head being filled with mush while your body went completely limp under him.

Jake was euphoric. High on the taste of you, on the feeling of you pulsing around him, and right when he reached the opening of your cervix, his place, the one he’s going to surrender himself too, he felt feral.

He’s reached his peak, the most precious part of his mate that he caressed with the tips of his tongue, slicking and stroking the tight muscle that twitched for him, called for him. He couldn’t ever think of retracting himself away, of leaving you alone, not when the sensation of your tightening was so addictive.

He could feel you from here, love you from here. He was able to sense the beat of your heart just because his tongue was touching the most intimate part of you, and he felt his body shake in relief. In satisfaction that this is his home.

Your womb, pretty and fluttery, prospered under his venom. The one he keeps feeding you, rolling out of his glands along his tongue and straight to your cervix, where your muscles pulsed like they were taking him in, drinking him up.

“You’re drinking from me..” he mouthed at your sensitive clit, your cunt was so overstimulated, so used but still restless against his tongue. “Your womb.. she’s taking from me. She recognises me..” he’s completely frenzied.

And you were slipping in and out of consciousness, unaware in a bubble of constant bliss, you didn’t know if you were cumming anymore— all you could feel was the consistent thrumming, the consistent pulling and convulsing of your walls around his tongue while the tips swirled and pushed at your cervix, almost like they were cuddling against it.

Jake’s body slumped, engulfed in elation while your figure rested under him, legs occasionally twitching when he caressed too hard, his mouth and tongue locked. This time on your cunt, feeding his venom inside of you to claim you, to leave a mark so deep it’s almost a wound, a scar that you’ll always carry.

A deep connection, a familiarity between his venom and your womb.

So he kept feeding you, even when your awareness floated away, keeping you sealed in a cloud of pure pleasure and surrender. Even when his muscles ached and his tail twitched wildly, and even when his sweatpants felt so warm and sticky from his mindless release right when your womb accepted him.

He was still inside of you, like a good, responsible and possessive mate that will do anything for his other half. He caressed you, he held you and kept you full while your cervix allowed it, welcomed it, loved it.

You were flourishing with his venom flooding you from the inside, and it was just the beginning.

The serpent placed a big porcelain plate in front of you. Vibrant with colours of different fruits and vegetables, the pretty hues from the berries and the chopped pieces of bell peppers alongside the golden glow of the fried eggs he made so early in the morning.

Packed with protein and filling, just what he needed for his mate. “Eat. All of it, angel.” His words were tender, touch even softer in comparison. He hovered behind you, towering frame that glimmered with scattered scales along his tail, Jake’s built was so impressively massive he could cover you with his body completely.

“I need you to be healthy, at all times. Need you to be energetic and strong.” His clawed finger ran along your shoulder blade, careful and featherlight. Teasing the strap of your short, satin nightgown that he picked up when your body was too sensitive to even move. You nodded at his attentiveness, heart swelling in your chest when he placed a soft kiss to your neck. “Eat well, my mate.”

And you did, fingers grabbing the honeyed toast apart as you chewed, strawberries bursting with sweetness in your mouth as you nourished your body the whole time your viper’s tail stroked your thighs, travelling along the dips and curves of your skin gently. Scales velvety soft as if each movement that was caressing you was kissing your body.

You turned around every now and then to pop a piece of fruit into his mouth, pulling apart your toast unevenly to give him the bigger pieces, and he accepted all of them. Flicking his long tongue out to tease your fingertips that held the food to his lips before he let the edge of his fang graze your skin, just to hear you giggle when he finally took the piece in his mouth.

He felt himself falling closer to you, even though there was barely in space between you two physically, he still was lured towards you. No matter how much he kissed you, touched you and breathed you in he always yearned to be closer.

To nuzzle into you, carve a space in your heart just for him and stay there, safe and protected in the spot that he flourished in. He could never feel himself close enough— if possible, he wanted to bore his entire soul to yours.

You fed him when you believed that it was the opposite, you loved and protected him when you thought that he was the one doing everything. But the truth was that he would’ve crumbled apart ages ago if it wasn’t for your kind touch and loving eyes that gazed at him like he hung the stars in your universe, he breathed the air into your lungs and he brought the sun out to your sky.

So devoted, so in love and so mated.

He adored you, his very being was wrapped around you, surrounding you in ways only a serpent could wrap around their mate. He wasn’t just bonding himself to you, eventually making himself just bonded— no, he was fated to you.

The same way you accepted him, the same way you were fated to him.

A fusion of your two souls, laced with warm blood and sweet venom that glowed between your chests, something beyond comprehension skills, beyond the relationships and marriages you were used too, because you weren’t in love with jake. You dedicated every piece of yourself to him.

And he held each piece with care, a teasing yet gentle hold. Just like the way he nipped your finger now.

“Ow! That one hurted.” You huffed, the serpent’s pupils thinned when he let out a sudden breath, a laugh at your endearing expression while you stared at your perfectly fine finger.

Jake quickly engulfed your finger in his hands, cool blooded heart unable to take the slight pout in your face. He pressed his lips right on the spot he grazed, “all better now, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

The serpent kept you close, arm now cradling your side, tail wrapped protectively around your ankle all the while his own hand fed you from the plate since your hand should ‘just rest now’ according to his words.

And he pressed a soft kiss to your overly sweet mouth after each bite. As if to praise you, to seal the bite inside and make sure that you swallow it.

When you’re done with everything, he presses a kiss to your throat.

It felt like a ‘thank you’ rather than a kiss, a small appreciation for nurturing you and keeping you in his arms.

You cuddled closer to him, a habitual heat radiating off his body that pulsed against you. Making you feel every breath, every beat and every pulse. You were a part of him as much as he was a part of you.

“Jake..” your voice was giddy, calling for him as he hummed peacefully behind you, his lips were gently littering kisses along your shoulder, down your arm and right on the faint throb on your wrist.

And then you felt it.

A deep, carnal hunger, the same discomfort, the same itch from two nights ago— it made you shift in your seat, retracting your arm from his hold like you couldn’t fully breathe for a moment, your body was feverish.

Jake’s eyes narrowed, detecting the shift instantly and flicking his tongue out to taste the air— distress, agitation, thirst.

His tail unwrapped from your ankle, “everything okay?” Voice low, attentive and protective. You shook your head, a dryness aching in your throat. “I think .. that thing is happening again.” The serpent’s composure wavered.

It was working. Your body .. was thirsty for him again.

It made jake swoon. A slight tremor in his fingers when he breathed out shakily, his own body trembling in the need to provide, the need to protect and love.

He felt like he was drowning in you.

“Oh baby..” he cooed, muscular arms wrapping around your middle to lift you off and bring you back to the nest, your safe space and his home. He carried you tenderly, claws nowhere to be seen while his soft palms caressed your skin.

Jake laid you down above the fabrics, the cloths and clothes and the blankets that he chose, his own larger body hovering above you while your stomach churned in hunger. The feeling bubbling up and burning your throat, making you whimper in his hold as he shushed you softly.

He leaned down to your neck, pressing his nose right above your pulse point, each thump making his muscles relax as he flicked his tongue out— little beads of poison glittering that he licked down your skin.

The serpent kept moving, nuzzling your skin, kissing your collarbones, licking right above your breasts, nipping along your shoulders while his palm pressed on your lower stomach— right above your uterus where you felt a contraction pulse the moment his skin touched yours.

A gasp slipped out of you at the feeling, a sudden rush of heat washing down your body as you began gushing, folds soaking through your panties while Jake gazed at you in awe. “You’re already calling for me..” he was mesmerised.

“Your womb .. she’s calling for me again. She recognises me even more than I expected.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead right to the heat source, right between your hips, “I still have to prepare you more for me, love.”

“Still need you to be ready for me.. so you can take all of me.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, words of reassurance and calm spilling past his lips but there trickles of sweat on his temples, the tips of his claws almost fully appearing— and that’s when you noticed that Jake was holding himself back from you.

“Jake .. please.” You whimpered, weak hands curling around him as your hips began to ache in need, a soreness spreading from your throat, to your stomach that felt empty and down between your legs.. where you were practically twitching in desire.

Your nails dug into his muscles, “I need you right now, I need you.” Jake inhaled sharply, his own pants tightening around him, the way you looked at him— with the gentlest twinkle of tears in your eyes, lips wobbling when you begged him to give himself fully to you, to not restrain himself, not now and not ever.

But Jake couldn’t, you weren’t ready for him. He knew this and no matter how much it hurt him— he didn’t want to hurt you.

He’ll take all the needed time to prepare you, to prepare your body for him. So when the time does actually come, you’ll fully accept him instead of being in pain. He could never make you uncomfortable knowing that he was the cause.

“Sweetheart.. you know I can’t. Not yet.” He caressed your jaw, fingers featherlight as they went down your neck, you felt small tears drop slip down your temples that he didn’t hesitate to lick up, the sight of you almost making him whimper with the urge to just fully claim you, adore you and make you his.

“You’re not ready for me yet, little nest.” He mumbled against your skin, tone shaky like his words were hurting him. “but once you are— I promise I’ll never let you go a day without being filled of me. I promise I’ll always let you feel me in any way that you want. You’ll fully breathe me in.”

“But for now, I’ll just keep soothing you with my venom.” His lips were now returning to your neck, fangs peeking past his plump lips that became swollen from the kissing. “Ready, baby?” You nodded your head quickly, tears springing down your eyes fully in anticipation at him finally sedating you.

And then it happened— his fangs sunk right into your pulse point. The sharp tips puncturing your skin, your vein, venom instantly gushing inside of you making your blood flare.

You didn’t even have time to process the pain— the burning wound and sinking of his fangs, didn’t even have time to process the scream that it ripped out from your chest before you fell back to the mattress the moment his poison hit your blood stream directly. No longer being drunk from your throat, it was being injected.

And the feeling was making you intoxicated. Completely drunk in the matter of seconds as you mewled in euphoria, pleasure coursing through you, intensifying with every heart beat inside of you that rushed, picking up the pace when jake growled into your skin.

He moaned when your flavour hit his tongue. The serpent, though not one to crave blood, felt his head spin at yours. The crimson warmth that flushed into his mouth, he was drinking the life of you, the life of his mate.

Then you started to feel it— the more he drank, the more he took, the tighter his hands gripped your hips, the more you floated.

Slowly, faintly slipping out of the embrace of consciousness. Your eyelids became droopy, breaths slow and deep while your entire body relaxed.

Jake noticed all of it. He just venom-fed you into subspace.

The feeling of your body fully surrendering to him, to his scales, to his fangs and to his venom made him groan in satisfaction. You were giving him your complete all.

“That’s right, baby..” he muttered, mouth still so wet of you while you whimpered in his hold, so spent and so high on his poison. The sensation of him flooding you was so electrifying yet so soothing. It was like your entire body was waiting for this again, “go under for me.. just like that.”

Jake didn’t know it yet, but this version of you, so pliant, so unguarded was his favourite. He could protect you all he wanted, kiss you and caress you all he wanted all the while you trusted him just enough to let him do absolutely anything to you.

“Stay there for me, love.. I’ll take care of you.” And he did. His venom pulsed inside of you carefully, filling you up and making ecstasy rush through your entire body that fluttered in his hold. You let go entirely. Not a single thought, a single voice or a single breath in your head. Besides the warmth of his body and the stroke of his scaled tail around your calf. “I always will.”

With his arms wrapped protectively around you and his fangs snug inside of you— you slept in peace. Cradled in the most gentle hold that’s ever touched you, as if you were made of the most divine glass to bless Earth, and in Jake’s eyes of course you were, you were the most precious human he’s ever laid eyes on.

This bite— wasn’t just a simple feeding from him to you, it wasn’t just a bite. It was complete submission, it was dedication and it a confession. All this wasn’t for him, he already knew he had you wrapped around him just like the way he had his tail coiled around you, he knew he had a home in your soul in the same way you owned his.

But this was a mark of love, a promise to the bond that you both created. One that bridged your mortal heart to his serpent one, webbing in between and making them inseparable. And now, each pulse of your heart was connected to his. Each breath that you inhaled to your lungs, he exhaled them for you. Each thought that annoyed your mind, he fought it off for you.

This was past anything that you could’ve shared with another human, and way more exceptional than any mating he could’ve had with another hybrid. Because you were connecting two universe together with each moment you both breathed together— you connected a human to a snake.

A bond that flourished, that bloomed and went beyond any other previous love, relationship or marriage.

You had your soul tied to his now, and you both grew to adore this bond more day by day.

It happens without either of you knowing, without either of you catching on, but the connection grows.

Each night that you spend wrapped in his coils, the taste of his venom still fresh in your tongue and his claws retracted with his hand covering your waist protectively? It blooms.

With every shared breath, it pulses to life. With every exchanged kiss, it stirred like it was awakening— akin to an ancient flame, an ancient dream, a promise. Spoken only between the lips of a human and a serpent, but kept safe. Secure with your love and his scales.

Then it grew, it blossomed. A life formed between the two of you, a new breath that swelled over your relationship, your bond grew. Fully forming, fully developing and connecting you to him, body, mind, soul and heart.

It started off when you were in the den, an open book between your hands while you cuddled up against his hoodie in the nest. Jake was outside, he muttered something about hybrid meetings before disappearing behind the door.

And then you felt a tug— a push at your chest, heat building up but not the good kind, no. You felt angry.

Like something had agitated you, something pissed you off. Something that went wrong.

You sat up right on the bed, brows furrowed at confusion and the way your hands were almost twitching with fury. That’s when the door of your house slammed open, almost getting thrown off of its hinges.

In came Jake. Pupils slit entirely, almost appearing like a thin line as his emerald eyes were dim. Claws full unsheathed while his tail lashed behind him like a whip. He stormed inside of the place, steps heavy and mad.

“Jake..?” You called but his ears were ringing. He didn’t spot your figure walking into the living room, too busy pacing around the area while running his claws through his hair. “Did something happen at the meeting?” When your quiet, calm voice finally registered into his senses, he exhaled.

He breathed for the first time in hours.

An instant relief rushed through him— the same one that you felt as the bond now humming. In satisfaction, in relief at the proximity.

“No.. nothing happened, love. Nothing that you need to worry about.” Jake walked towards you, the anger in his posture fully dissipating when he inched closer and laid his palms on your hips. The touch making him melt against you. “It’s .. nothing serious.” He swallowed heavily.

But you already knew. You felt it.

Shaking your head, “Jake .. I know you’re angry because something went wrong.” Now his eyes were locked on you. “I don’t know what it is.. but it felt like something that you worked hard on was messed up. Like the frustration you get when your effort just goes to waste.” The serpent stilled.

“How did you.. figure all this out?”

“I don’t know, I just felt it.” He tilted his head.

You weren’t a hybrid that could pick up on scent changes, besides the fact that he did storm inside the house with his mannerisms screaming anger, you still knew too much.

“I felt your anger.” You added, your words now making his eyebrow arch while his claws grazed your skin just a tiny bit.

Inching closer, “I felt the way your frustration bloomed in your chest, the way your hands..” you lowered yours to hold onto his, thumb pressing gently against his palm, “the way they shook in anger.”

Jake exhaled shakily.

“I don’t know why, I think it’s this bond thing we have going on. But I truly felt everything like I was the one experiencing.” Your words— you simply didn’t know how much they weighed to jake.

You didn’t know that this was just more confirmation to him that you’re his mate. That the bond is settling in, fully connecting and spreading further into your lives. You felt his emotions when he wasn’t even near you.

Maybe you were unaware, or maybe you weren’t ready to face something like this. But you were already developing a sense of instinct for him. For your mate. This sense, had already existed in jake since he was born, it’s only that now it found its other half.

You were completing him without even knowing.

The bond was flourishing, roaring in love and devotion that only thrummed harder when your mate was close by.

He pressed his forehead to yours, all of his limbs felt relaxed. “It is the bond. You’re not just marked by me anymore, you’re mine and I’m yours. Emotions, thoughts and soul wise.”

“You feel what I feel. That’s how close we are now.” And you only blinked at him in awe, mesmerised by the bond and your creation— this special connection that you formed and developed with Jake with your bare hands, now made you exist within him the same way he will within you.

Over the days, it only blossomed more.

Your thoughts were no longer fully yours, they were sharing a space with Jake’s. And sometimes it was a bit too much.

“I wonder how our kids will look like..” “Jake.” He perked up, tongue flicking out nervously as he looked at you with his eyes widened. “Can you not wonder about our kids when I’m trying to read?” You could’ve sworn you felt just the lightest flush on the tips of his ears. “Sorry..”

“Will i be asking him too much if—“ you’re not even given the chance to continue before you feel a warm tail wrapping around your ankle. Holding you gently as his burly figure slithered behind you. “Never.” He hissed, “you’ll never ask for too much.”

But it was never just your thoughts. Jake started to feel the way you do as well.

Whenever you felt colder than usual, he would cuddle up next to you wordlessly. His scales tangling around you multiple times while he places a gentle kiss on your temple.

The one day you woke up craving something sweet for breakfast, he already had an entire plate of honeyed toast and waffles piling up next to chopped fruits. And he would feed the pieces to you one by one. Glued to your side as he nourished you right in front of his eyes.

With his closeness, the shared attachment and the continuous reaching out for each other, the bond was enchanted. It fluttered whenever the serpent touched a sensitive spot on your skin, buzzed when you kissed his neck.

It bent when he didn’t glance at you in hours. It coiled when you didn’t touch him for a night.

The connection was an indicator and a regulator of everything. Syncing your heartbeats, your thoughts, your souls.

It kept you bounded to jake. In all ways possible, you were his.

That’s why when you woke up one day, with an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen, a warmth burning your skin and an itch that you couldn’t drink away— jake was by your side before you even called for him.

Because he didn’t need you to be verbal about anything anymore, he felt it before you even spoke it.

The discomfort, the pain and shuddering when your entire body ached. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” Your voice was hushed when you curled in on yourself in the middle of his nest. Jake was on his knees next to you, slit pupils studying your every move— before the realisation dawned on him.

It wasn’t discomfort it was a tug.

It wasn’t pain it was a call.

“My body .. feels so wrong. It feels so odd.” Because it was ready. “Love..” the air from his lungs was knocked out the second you whimpered and he smelt it.

Like a carnal urge awakening, ripping its way to life within him— he picked up your scent, your need. Your arousal, sweet and addictive wafting through the air to his nose.

His split tongue uncontrollably flicked out to taste it, to taste the tiniest tinge of your nectarine in the air. And he groaned when he realised that you weren’t just ready— you were fertile for him. You tasted fertile.

“It’s not wrong.. or odd.” The serpent hissed, now climbing next to your curled body before his tail and arms engulfed you. “Your body is calling for me, little nest.” You grunted at his words, arousal gushing between your legs like flowing slick. “You’re ready for me.” And at that your legs instinctively opened.

Like a welcoming gesture, the warmth spreading between you both as Jake coiled himself around you, his massive arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close, grounding you. While the other slipped down your hips.

You moaned in relief when he mouthed at your shoulder, fingers dipping past your soaked underwear while the tip of his nose brushed right against your pulse point— and he nuzzled closer. Kissing, nipping, licking at your skin to scent you. Right above your heart beat.

“My pretty mate..” his claws were retracted, rough fingers toying with your folds making you gasp in his hold. “All ready for me.. finally calling for me.” The serpent felt delirious.

He felt the way that the desire that rushed through you, was stemming from the deepest parts of your soul. He was witnessing you naked. Completely bare for his eyes, searching and reaching towards him.

Towards the only person you know that will hold you, soothe you and protect you. Your mate.

Jake moved to hover above you, his tail now circling your hips with the tip stroking your lower stomach where the skin burned him. You looked up at him, pretty eyes glossy with expectancy, waiting when your body blazed with need.

And when you felt a pulse, a contraction blooming in your abdomen in pain— you whimpered his name. So soft, so broken and defenceless.

Jake crumbled entirely. All restraint and plans of being gentle with you in your first time evaporating away.

He needed you, and you need him right now.

“Shh— sweetheart, don’t worry. I’ve got you..” the serpent’s tail coiled around one of your thighs before pulling it towards his hips, opening you. His mouth latched onto your jaw, flicking his divided tongue along your skin while you shuddered under him. Gasps and sighs all falling from your lips as waves of relief washed down on you, the bond humming in satisfaction whenever jake touched you.

“I’ve got you.. your mate’s got you, already so sweet and ready for me..” Jake babbled on the lower his kisses went, plump lips already swollen trailing down your collarbone before he ripped apart your nightgown. Claws shredding the soft satin before settling above your flushed skin gently. So careful. “You’re all ready for me.. I can feel it.” He pressed his palm onto your lower stomach—

And he could’ve sworn he felt a throb. Right under his touch.

Jake couldn’t help the frenzied smile that etched on his features.

You groaned in pleasure when he pressed— applying light pressure, his pupils dilating when your scent sharpened. Sweetened. And the throbbing under his palm continued.

“There she is..” his voice was low, so low it sounded like he was purring. He leaned right next to your ear, akin to a predator taunting their prey, territorial and crazed. “There’s my favourite place.. pulsing for me.” He flicked his tongue out to taste you again. The need, the lust and the desire.

He pressed harder. “Feel that, angel? That’s you wanting me. That’s you being my mate.” Jake breathed in, inhaling your scent like it was his air— like he couldn’t live without it. “That’s where I’m gonna be at all times now. I’m going to keep you full. Here. Always.”

Your limbs were weak, the hunger now burning its way through your veins and lighting you on fire. Like a lava waiting just for the right moment to erupt inside of you, yet you only could whimper under jake. Could only look at him with tears in your eyes in hopes of him doing something.

The serpent then sensed everything.

The burn in your womb, the ache in your body, the warmth pooling between your legs— the bond convulsing with anticipation and jake was left gasping for breath. “Fuck.. baby, this is all for me? This is how you feel for me?” And you nodded because he wasn’t aware of the way he had you suffocating in his love. Wasn’t aware that you were drowning in him.

Now Jake didn’t want to do anything besides the exact same.

To cover and wrap and strangle himself with you. He suddenly lowered himself and finally kissed you.

The gasps and moans fell past your lips effortlessly, the kiss was anything but that. It was the two of you breathing one another in. Biting, licking, sucking with your teeth clashing. His spit instantly dribbled down your throat, the venom bursting in your tongue like it just sprung you back to life and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around the serpent’s neck to bring him closer, to take more.

Jake’s entire body was pressed against yours. His tail thrumming with his heart beat that pulsed wildly, smooth scales turning warmer by the second, you moaned into his mouth and he swallowed. “So pretty.. every pretty noise you make.. every pretty moan are all mine.” He bit on your lower lip, brushing his split ends while tears aligned your waterline, “just mine. Only mine.”

“Jake.. please,” your voice was barely audible, a small, broken sound between all his hissing. “I need you, really bad. It hurts.” Jake inhaled sharply,

And then he unleashed everything.

His hands, that were so gently caressing your skin, held onto your wrists and pinned them upwards. He pushed his body against yours, his tail pressing at your hips after coiling around once— trapping you under him.

The serpent hissed loudly. A light vibration rumbling in his chest that spread to your body, he began to rut into you. Hips rubbing and grinding mindlessly, you felt a poke— a pressure. Of something massive, warm, throbbing.

The size alone makes you choke a gasp out, jake smiled like he knew that you felt him. “Felt me, little nest? I’m gonna be inside you all the time now.” He whispered hotly into your skin. “Gonna let you crave me so much you’ll want me in all the time, everyday.” And you knew that he meant every word. Because Jake always kept his promises.

He loved the way your wetness seeped through his clothes to coat him. Loved the way you were so soaked and so eager to claim you couldn’t help yourself but do it even without him touching you. He wanted you to claim and mark him just as bad as he wanted to do it to you, and now was his chance to bring all his dreams to life.

While you were shuddering and gasping beneath him, his tail uncoiled.

The tip that once rested on your hip, inched closer to your middle— right before dipping under your panties.

You froze.

“Feel me, baby?” His tail thrusted deeper, your pussy tightened around his scales that soothed your walls. Pulsing, throbbing and so hot it felt like he was leaking inside of you. You sobbed when the stretch settled in, so wide it burned you from the inside out. Yet it felt so good. Especially when he pressed down his palm, feeling right where he was. “I’m right here, angel. I’m home.”

You squealed when his rough tip, now soft and swollen nuzzled right into your cervix opening. The small, pulsating rhythm of the beginning of your uterus throbbing at the contact. You sniffled as you weakly held onto him, body completely open and vulnerable at his mercy. “Jake.. a-are you sure this is okay—?” You sounded so shy. So bewildered at what he was doing to you, to your little pussy that could only stretch and drool around him.

The serpent laughed breathlessly. “Of course, baby. You’re taking me so well.. wrapping around my tail so nicely, look how pretty you look all open for me.” His praises fell off his lips like honey, Jake felt the way you clenched around his scales as he stretched you open. Your cunt dripping more and more each time he pulled back just the slightest bit before pushing his tail all the way back in.

Up until his swollen tip pressed against your cervix, and then began to pulse.

Your body twitched above the nest. Hips jerking forward when Jake didn’t pull back, he only throbbed right into your opening like his tail was kissing your cervix. “J-Jake.. what’s going on—“ “shhh Angel girl. Don’t worry about anything, let your mate prepare your pretty womb.” And then you felt the force, the pull.

The suction right against your tight ring of muscles. Like he was pulling your uterus down and making it bloom open at the same time— you felt the way your womb contracted right before dilating at his command.

And at the sensation of the hot, sticky and wet sucking, you thrashed in his hold. Your entire body felt like it was melting away while Jake wrapped his arms around you roughly, to keep you in place when you sobbed into his neck.

You felt so overwhelmed. The feeling was building up inside of you so rapidly, your heart thundered in your chest, struggling to keep up with everything that was happening.

From his whispered praises, sloppy mouth kissing and licking anywhere he could reach, the peak of his claws appearing every second just to dig and then disappear— and his tail. His tail that felt like it was splitting you as it sucked at your cervix, trembling as if to beg for your womb to let it inside. Everything felt debauched, so cruel yet so blissful.

“Gonna make your needy womb all open for me..” the serpent grunted breathlessly next to your ear, tongue flicking to lick the shell before he spoke again. “Get you all pretty and ready for me.. so you’ll be able to carry my clutch, baby.” You whimpered.

Throat hoarse from the consistent moaning and sobbing, eyelashes heavy from the unshed tears, the nest felt unbearable— yet it was also the only place you wanted to be in right now. The air so thick with his scent, with your slick and his wafting pheromones that floated away from his scales. Sweat clinging to both of your bodies, increasing the more his skin rubbed to yours.

Jake felt his senses slipping through his fingers, nostrils flared as he tried his best to inhale into his suffocating lungs. He could only feel you. Only breathe and sense you. His instincts flaring yet calming down at the same time, his thoughts incoherent as an ancient, a primitive hiss echoed through him. Like the serpent inside of Jake fully awakened this time.

With the intention to arouse, to stake, to coil around what’s his.

That was exactly what his body was moving to do before he was even aware of it. He felt so lost, so drunk and mindless with his hands gripping your hips to anchor himself. Yet nothing helped, he felt himself slipping further into the warmth, the engulfing embrace of lust and mating.

He wanted nothing more than to be connected to you in the most intimate way possible. His tail that cradled your cervix, the opening that fluttered around him like a blooming flower— latched on. Sucking and pulling like your womb was its only lifeline. Jake shuddered above you the more his body desperately pulled.

Your legs folded around his hips, pulling his tail even closer when your entire body yearned for him. Thirst amplifying by the second, your skin was feverish. Blazing with an entire layer of glistening sweat. You could no longer talk or speak— you left all the talking to your weak limbs that gripped onto the serpent like he was the only thing keeping secure, keeping you afloat above the sea of need that you both were drowning in.

It felt too intimate, too close, too much. You couldn’t breathe without his hot mouth touching you in some way, you felt your mind shut down the moment his hands would move from one place to another— and jake was weak.

His hands almost frail while his legs trembled. “Shit sweetheart.. you’re taking me in so well.” His tone airy, barely carrying the usual edge to it when he was melting on top of you. You could only flutter around his tail, your shyness still glowing and it made his heart lurch to his throat.

Then he moved his hand, one stayed anchored next to your head to steady himself while the other dipped low. He lowered himself to litter kisses down your neck, whispers of loving, sweet promises all spoken carefully to your skin only. Like it was a promise between him and your body alone.

Jake’s figure was restless. Twitchy, so sensitive. He felt something unfurling within him— something he wasn’t fully prepared for himself. And it excited him and terrified him at the same time.

The scratch of claws against his ribs, the graze of fangs against his throat. He was holding back his serpent from fully possessing him. Coming out and claiming, marking and hurting. Because that’s what his kind did.

It was driving him insane. But you looked so pretty under him.. writhing just from his tail that suckled on your womb like it was breathing air. A singular moment of break would mean that he would starve. His movements were all steady, stable. continuous.

Yet there was an urge to just dig his claws inside of you. To land his final touch and lay his clutch in your warmth— to fully possess you and change you. Witness the way your body will adapt to him.

The effect of him on you.

Jake tried his hardest to hold back, even if he was thrusting his tail inside of you like he was chasing his own high. Even if he felt the way you gushed and shuddered around him when your climax fluttered through you, he still attempted his best to tame his animalistic side.

But serpents were always stronger than humans. He could only do so much with his humane abilities—

That’s why he slipped his tail out in the blink of an eye, his pupils slitting to thin threads when a cry fell from your lips right before he flipped you over onto your stomach.

The serpent was wild. Claws now fully digging into your skin making you whimper in pain, his muscular chest pressed to your back. Pushing you towards the mattress while he held your hips, shifting them upwards to press against his own.

He was completely slipping. Fangs bared, venom dripping down his throat. A deadly glint in his as his breaths came out shallow. The mortal cuffs he had forced upon himself melting entirely when a painful throb spread right from under his abdomen—

From right below his waistline, where his slit slowly folded open to allow his erect cock to slither from behind his iridescent scales— he was massive. Awakened and excited. Way past the average human size, tip a primal red while his base flushed gently with the same gleaming dark emerald of his scales.

And he was leaking so much you would’ve thought that it was his climax instead. Pretty, opaline with infused venom ropes of cum drizzled past his length. Dripping onto the fabrics of the nest when he pressed the head of his cock to your sopping entrance.

He felt absolutely feral. His hands trembling, attempting his best to keep him steady while he teased your cunt. The serpent’s mouth was unable to detach from your body, “mine mine mine..” he whispered with his eyes half lidded, drowning in desire.

“All mine.. my pretty mate, my little nest.” He spoke, wrapping one of his hands around your neck. Fully thrusting inside of you. “There we go..” and you were panting.

He was so big, so deep. “J-jake.. please slow down—“ he paused.

Length throbbing, flaring between her stretched walls. “You want me to slow down.. when she’s been waiting for me?” Jake mocked.

His grip on your jaw tightened, sharp nails indenting your skin. “How could I possibly do that, baby?” Now his voice was softer. Desperate, wet with the leaking venom from his fangs. He talked like he was guilt tripping you, like he couldn’t believe that you wanted him to slow down. Like it hurt.

“Just a little bit— don’t stop, m’not asking you to..” the serpent exhaled heavily, continuing to sheath himself inside of you. “You don’t get what you do to me, baby..”

“You dont get what I want to do to you right now..” his voice was unlike his. Something dark, something ferocious spoke from within him. Thick with malice, webbed in the impulse to ruin.

And you were the victim. You were the chosen one to take. The thought alone made you shiver beneath him, goosebumps appearing making the animal behind you chuckle in amusement.

“Scared?” Jake snarled right next to your ear. Smiling when more tears slipped past your eyes— from the adrenaline that dug into your heart, the swirled combination of fear and excitement— terror and arousal. “No need to be scared, baby.. I’m just here to take care of you.”

He whispered like he was trying to distract you. Like his words could conceal the burn, the unbearable stretch of his serpent cock that thrusted inside of you.

You gasped wordlessly, back arching when fresh tears aligned along your jaw. Every single inch of your body felt electrified while you felt almost suffocated. “Breathe.” Jake growled.

Fangs brushing your ear. You struggled, you felt consumed. Undertaken by a dizzying fog of pleasure and euphoria— so strong it numbed you. “Breathe baby..” this time his thumbs pressed right above your jugular vein making you choke.

“J-jake—! S’too much— too deep—!” “But baby you’re taking it so well though..” you cried when his hand creeped to close just lightly around your mouth. “Listen to her, angel.” And you did. The wet, noisy and obscene sounds of your pussy clenching around him when he thrusted, pulling his hips back for a slight second— only letting you feel his tip before shoving his cock inside of your cunt that squirted in relief. “How am I supposed to slow down when this is how you sound for me?”

He trembled behind you. Legs twitching with his pelvis pressing flush into you. “You’re taking your mate too good, sweetness..” the pleasure creeped right up his spine, the sensation making him guttered. “Too good, baby.. you’re driving me insane.”

So soft, so warm. Searingly hot. Your entire body flushed under him, womb pulsing as the head of his swollen cock kept kissing it, pulling it and pushing it like it loved toying with your deepest, most sacred part. His favourite part.

All the while his hovering figure leaned down lower and lower. Until he had his front pressed to your back. Each breath that left his lungs fanned around your skin. His tongue flicked out to taste the thick air. It tasted so abundant with your flavours.

“You’re all mine, angel.. only mine. Just mine. My pretty mate that I’ll love and fill forever.” With each word he pushed more. He stayed inside more. Each time making your limbs melt further above the nest. Everything felt so good— a spell that he spoke in an unknown, ancient language that only he knew the gravity of before blowing it towards you.

He had you fully under his control. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t speak. You barely could move. You were unable to do anything— and for some reason it felt nice.

It was comforting to have his weight pinning you down. Comforting to know that no matter how much your needy cervix ached, he’ll always be there to kiss it better.

It made you feel so safe. So protected and cared for when your mate worshipped you like you were the only religion he knew. The only one he believed in and the only one he saw.

With each stroke of his slick cock that spilled heat inside of you, it felt like your walls were hugging him back. So intimately holding him close even the serpent exhaled shakily at being so accepted— so loved.

Jake then picked up the pace, the slow, deep thrusts shifting into more brutal ones— untamed and beast-like. You mewled into the feathery pillow. So weak compared to the uncontrollable hissing behind you.

Your pussy sucked him in, cervix moulding around his tip the more he teased it. “Feel me here, baby? Doesn’t it feel good to have me here?” And he pressed on your lower stomach. Caressing the bulge of his viper cock that massaged your insides, he felt every flutter, every vein and every ridge while you cried, so overwhelmed.

“F-fuck yes—! I love it, I love it so much— I love how deep you are in me, jakey—“ you babbled, drunk. Wholly under the altered cloud of pleasure he always manages to form around your head. Jake growled at your tone, so airy. He could practically taste how high on his love you were. “Yeah, baby? I’m gonna be here all the time now. Gonna keep your greedy cunt stuffed of me.” His claws glowed, fangs almost vibrating in instinct.

Mark. Claim. Bite. Ruin.

And Jake sunk his teeth right into your shoulder blade, the sensation instantly making you unravel around him as you milked his cock that burned. His hips snapping against you wildly while your arousal drizzled down onto the nest, ruining everything just like the way you were right now.

Sobbing, vision spotted with your ears ringing as Jake fucked you through your orgasm before pulling another one out of you. Your womb was convulsing. Contractions washing down on your body so painfully yet the waves of ecstasy were stronger.

The serpent then injected his venom into you again. The flush of the sweetness bursting in your veins from the hidden hunger. The unknown crave that just got settled, Jake groaned at your taste once again. Your blood tasted even more saccharine when it was engulfed by your orgasm.

You crashed. Over and over again. His length relentless as it rammed inside of you, fucking into all of your sweet spots that made your body jerk under Jake. “That’s it, isn’t it angel?” He breathed heavily when you squealed right as his hips pressed to you in a certain angle— “that’s your sweet, baby spot. Isn’t it? I’m going to worship it.” And he did.

His tip nursed from it. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. The knot in your abdomen no longer formed— you were stuck in a constant state of falling apart while your womb milked his cock even more.

It felt like your body had a mind of its own. So needy, so desperate that no matter how much your mind practically shut down it didn’t care. It was addicted, attached, dependent.

And Jake loved it. He loved the way your pussy was wrapped around him. Tightly, possessively. Unwilling to let go whenever he pulled back— you were claiming him back. Your body was dragging its marks on him, etching its way into his very own skin with the way his cock was tight with desire. The need to unleash and finally paint your insides with him.

So he kept going, because he couldn’t think. He couldn’t process anything. He only felt the pulses, felt the tugging, felt the constant edging of something ready to release, prepared to snap.

“I’m gonna fill you up so well, sweetheart.” The snake hissed, his hand now moving to cradle your lower belly. Where he was going to make you swell with him. His tail coiled behind him, body building in anticipation while his fangs teased your open wound. Where he could still taste you on his tongue.

“Stuff you so full you’ll be leaking of me for weeks. You’ll feel me every time you move.” You shivered at his words. Not because you were scared— but because of how you felt a drop. The lowering of your cervix as it opened more, like a second starved mouth, like it wanted to be stuffed. It wanted to be filled with your mate’s seed.

And when your muscles fluttered around his cock’s head he cooed. “Oh angel.. your pretty womb is just as needy for me as I am for her.” His hand now pressed harder and he felt your uterus flutter back at his touch. “I’ll soothe her.. I’ll satisfy her. Always.”

You couldn’t help the way your body arched further into the bed— hips shifting to allow him to go even deeper while your face was buried into the pillow now. You were still inviting him in even when he was drowning in you.

“P-please.. don’t let me be empty.” And that sentence alone broke Jake.

Then you heard the aftermath— it wasn’t a moan, it wasn’t a gasp, it wasn’t something human.

It was a vibration. One that started from the tip of his tail to the top of his head— a click and then a rattle. A heavy, snapping noise that came deep from within his guts. He was released.

“You want to be filled up with me?” The voice that spoke from behind you wasn’t Jake. The moment you froze in shock— walls clenching in surprise when you turned around and saw him different.

His pupils were in their thinnest form, emerald irises glowing brightly in the dim nest. Fangs fully dropped and dripping with venom that fell atop your lower back, right before melting and being drunk by your skin. His scales were fluttering, a dusty green covering the tips of the ones that emerged around his shoulders and neck, down to his forearms.

He looked wickedly frightening. He looked monstrous.

And somehow that made you want him even more.

“I’ll break you.” His tone was a fusion between a hiss and a deep, heavy rumbling that came from the depths of his chest. “I’ll ruin you completely. I will crawl inside of you and alter you. Just like I did with my venom, just like how you belong to me now.” His words, his mouth dripped with venom.

It scared you. Fuck, it terrified you. Yet you still couldn’t find it in yourself to move away, to escape from the beast behind you. The one that was buried so deep inside of you while you tightened around him, pouring at every word he growled at you.

You couldn’t help the way you pushed yourself back under him— the way you pushed your pelvis back against his, and he laughed.

A guttural, dangerous laughter that made more poison spill out from his mouth. “You want me to claim you just as bad as I do.. you want me to take your soul.” And you nodded.

You agreed because you couldn’t function anymore. You couldn’t imagine, couldn’t think about any possibility or life that doesn’t revolve around your serpent. You couldn’t do it, your mind refused to conjure up any image of you that didn’t have scales. That didn’t have venom marks. That didn’t have chilling split pupils.

Because your own body depended on him now. It responded to him, it recognised him, it knew him. You were marked, you were owned.

You had already given him your heart and body, it was only a matter of time before he sunk his fangs around your soul as well.

And you would allow it, because you knew you were safe. You knew that your mate would make the sky fall above the grass to keep you warm and protected between his arms.

Even if he had you away from the world, even if his voice became the only one that you knew, his eyes the only ones you saw and his body the only one you felt, you would never pick another over him.

You could never not choose him. You could never live without your mate.

And Jake claimed everything. His thrusts turned animalistic. Like he was ravaging your guts, scarring your insides to only accept him. His claws sunk back into your hips, deep and unforgiving. Any time your figure jerked forward— moved the slightest bit from under him— he would drag you back.

Because under him is where you belonged now. “Don’t try to run from me, pretty.” His tail, still coated with your wetness brushed your calf. “You and I both know you can’t go anywhere.”

The scales circled you, they engulfed you in coils. From around your hips, between your legs, up your waist and finally resting around your neck— right before he squeezed.

“Jake!” You cried, heart ramming into your ribs when you felt your lungs burn with need of air. The serpent kept his coils unmoving, applying the slightest pressure. “Shh, love. You’re safe, I’ll never hurt you.” Your tired hands desperately held onto the cooling scales, where you could sense each breath he took.

With his cock still nestled so deep inside of your weeping womb, he turned your face around with his clawed hand. “If you want air, you can breathe me in.” And before you could utter another word— he shoved his tongue into your parted lips.

Both of you groaned at the familiar taste, the familiar feeling and stretch of his forked split ends that instantly latched onto the back of your throat. He thrusted inside of you again, cock tightening in a way that you felt it from the heavy release he kept pushing back.

Jake hummed when you moaned around his tongue, your eyes closing in euphoria at his venom streaming down your throat while his length split you open. You felt more aches of pleasure branching into your body, endless climaxes and orgasms all knotting together as your mind floated.

“There you go.. keep floating for me, baby. Stay under my venom.” And you did, you took everything he gave you. The warm, filling poison and the hot ropes of precum that he buried inside of you. “Doing so well for me.. you deserve to be filled so good.” He muttered around your mouth before suckling on your muscle like a baby.

The serpent retracted his tongue, he babbled as he felt the heat building up in his cool blooded body, his legs twitching, tail fluttering around you the closer he inched towards his climax before it broke— and it shattered him entirely.

He snarled so loudly, the noise shaking out of his ribs when his limbs tensed, scales vibrating as he came inside of you.

But he didn’t cum like you normally expected, it wasn’t a few ropes of his warm seed— it was a flood.

A blazing hot, endless liquid that bursted inside of you. Making you cry at the feeling of the stream, of the overflow. He kept hissing in pleasure, wrapped up in a storm of mouth watering thrill that coursed through him, intensifying when your womb constricted— like it was drinking him up, filling your uterus with all he gave.

You were sobbing against the pillow now, covered in a sticky pool of wetness, of arousal and his flooding that didn’t decrease— and then you felt a poke. “There it is..” it was a swell.

A consistent rising, a bump that formed right around his base that was being pushed inside of you now.

Inside of your gushing entrance that clenched in surprise— in shock when you screamed at the ceaseless stretch. The fresh burn, the boiling warmth of his knot as it sunk into you. All the while Jake kept kissing you through it, shushing you and mumbling words into your ear.

“You can take it.. you’re almost there.” His voice was tender now, after his release the viper somewhat softened. You shook under him as your cunt drooled around the new intrusion, much similar to the saliva that dripped out of your mouth.

And then a final pop! That signalled him fully sheathing himself in. Locking him to you with his seed almost sloshing inside of your swollen stomach. The skin on your belly tight and stretched just the slightest bit at the flood.

Jake was in awe.

His clawed hands that were covered in your drool and your indents hovered around your belly, you were so full of him.. so stuffed just from carrying his seed. “You look divine, love.” He kissed right into the wound he had his fangs in just a few minutes ago.

You shuddered at his featherlight touch. A whirling contrast from his predatory hold. Yet you still melted under his fingertips, still floating and relaxed for him.

“Looking so pretty.. just from my seed alone.” His palm pressed against the swell, “wonder how you’ll look like when you carry my clutch.” At those words, you whimpered—

“I want it..” the serpent stiffened. “I want to carry your clutch, Jake.” Jake’s expression changed.

It became unreadable, you were too embarrassed to look at him, your face still covered by the pillowcase, still sensitive. “Baby.. do you realise what you’re asking for?” And before you could even answer, he felt a throb.

Much similar to the one before he bred you, much similar to the one he already memorised— the one of your womb.

Calling for him once again, even when he had just flooded her. She was still greedy. Still wanted more.

Jake smiled.

“Is that so..” he purred, knot swelling down, the bulge slowly slipping out of you. Allowing his gaze to take in the sight of your gaping pussy— still tightening around nothing, still pulsing, still hungry even when she was dripping in him.

You whined at the emptiness, the coldness that wrapped around your womb now that Jake’s cock wasn’t cradling it— the neediness from your body made the serpent sigh in love. “Still want me so bad.. still wanting my clutch.” His hands trailed down your sides that twitched beautifully under his touch.

He then carefully moved you, laying you gently on your back. His tail unfurled from around you slightly, it still hovered next to your hips. He distanced himself just enough to let you breathe.

“I’ll give you my clutch.” Jake whispered right as he looked into your eyes. Half lidded and sparkling with unshed tears that prickled at his heart. “I’ll give you everything that I have.” He leaned down to press the lightest kiss on your lips. Mouths barely touching when his plump lips brushed your swollen ones.

His claws had fully vanished, hands carefully steadying your thighs to wrap around him once more as he slid in between your legs, this time his cock appeared thicker— erect and leaking but swollen. Heavy, loaded.

The sight alone made you salivate. “You’re so.. full,”

“I’ll let it out. I will let it out inside of you.. I’ll make it easy for you.. I’ll make it feel good.” The serpent hissed into your lips, breath hot and heavy as the steam in the nest practically bubbled. The windows were foggy, the room thick and layered with his scent, his pheromones and your arousal.

And then he sank into you once more— this time easier, this time sliding between your slippery walls that gushed around him in welcome. Jake shivered above you, mouth agape while you moaned right into his lips.

The sounds that formed from his cock nudging inside of you were filthy. So nasty, so wet it made your whole body burn. Your hands finally finding the strength to wrap around his wrists on either side of your head just to stabilise yourself.

“She’s so greedy.. she’s sucking me in so well, baby. You’re so needy for me.” Jake whined as his hips worked restlessly, chasing his high when his swollen cock— filled with his clutch caressed your inside, their new home. “I’m gonna give you my babies.. you’ll carry and protect them. You’ll be such a great mama to our babies.” He muttered before dipping his head into the curve of your neck, right where your blood still drizzled in thick droplets.

Your womb quivered with each thrust, every stroke pulling a breath out of your lungs before he sank in so deep his head latched onto your cervix again. “There we go..” Jake’s words were slurred, you were limp above the nest. Slumped under him while he almost evaporated. So intoxicated on the feeling of your walls milking him, so obsessed with how warm your body felt because of him.

And then Jake felt the first drop.. the first swell that indicated his egg lowering. He pressed his hips flush against yours, the head of his cock fully nursing onto your cervix when you felt the shift— the weight, the round sphere that was moving to be inside of you.

“Just like that.. take it, love. Take it and keep it safe.” It finally sunk inside of you, round and weighted. The sensation so new, so intimate as it slipped past him— right into the opening of your cervix that sucked the egg in. Shielding and protecting it in your womb, making you sigh in relief at the sheer relief of carrying his weight— of carrying him.

But then there was another swell.. another drop. “I-is that another—?” “Yes— fuck i have more to give, I always have more to give when it comes to you.” His pelvis jerked into yours, saliva dripping out of his mouth like water as his slit pupils rolled into the back of his head, the feeling burned him from the inside out, blazed his abdomen in ecstatic fire. “Take it, baby. Take all of them from me.”

This time you cried when it pressed into your cervix, the muscles fluttering softly before sucking the egg right next to the other one. The weight increasing in your womb made your legs shake, another release building up even when your body felt so sore. Your pussy still twitching with Jake deep inside of you.

“Last one, little nest. You can take it, I know you can.” The serpent mouthed at your skin, tongue flicking to lick along your cheek, to catch the slipping tears that fell when your stomach felt so full. So heavy and tight already but he was still giving you more.

His palm pressed against the swell, the forming bump of his clutch being protected by you. Being nourished and nurtured inside of you. His instincts flared, the final egg slipping slowly, the heaviest and largest of the bunch— “f-fuck.. we’re almost there, sweetheart. You’re almost full of me.” Jake sobbed into your neck.

His serpent body overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy, by the intensity of the love he held for you. The weight of acceptance, of you wanting him back. All crashing down on him as he stuffed you with his final egg, the bulge of it making you both gasp as the stretch ripped a release from you, so deep, so carnal.

“That’s it baby.. you did it. You’re carrying my soul now.” He spoke tearfully into your mouth, still so close to you. Still buried deep inside of you, his tip remained nuzzled against your cervix that fully closed now. Fulfilled and satisfied.

The serpent’s palm rested against your stomach, it felt warm. Soft with you now holding him, nestling his babies inside the most precious part of you. “You look so beautiful.. all mine. Just mine, so full of me.” Jake worshipped your body.

Tail caressing the underside of your belly while the snake moved towards you, laying next to your body before cradling you against him. All his instincts telling him to protect. To shield.

You hummed in content. So spent, so tired and so bred. Your heart’s pace finally calming down when you cuddled closer to Jake’s warmth. The serpent’s tongue flicked out to touch your neck, your shoulders, just to scent you again. To surround you with him completely while you carry his clutch.

“Sleep now my little nest. I’ll protect you and our babies.” His whisper fluttered with love, your eyes already closing the second he began to purr for you. Soft vibrations calming your nerves while his scales coiled around you protectively, his palm resting above your lower stomach.

“All mine.” The serpent hissed quietly before closing his eyes.

a,n. holy fucking shit it’s finally done. thanks for reading this fever dream 🫶🏼 & feedback is greatly appreciated ! ♡

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