#cheers thanks! that's useless!

[rolandkaros]

i'm literally abt to commit a crime

[embers-scheduled-disappointing]

🎶Do you ever feel

Like a plastic bag🎶

Yes. Anyway it's always nice to be reminded that I've been doing cunt all for the past 7 months

[deadsetobsessions]

I just really like the trope of Danny getting summoned, alright?

——

After he shoved Pariah Dark in his coffin shaped locker what what Danny hoped to be for all of eternity, the half unfortunately inherited all of Pariah’s responsibilities.

“What was it again? With great powers comes great responsibilities?” Danny let his head hit the table with an audible thunk. He’s in his “office,” the ghost zone’s approximation of where he might be able to do work seriously. The house- the extension of his haunt- had added the room right next to his bedroom. Danny had to lift all of the paperwork from Pariah’s castle (that’s now also a part of what’s considered Danny’s but he doesn’t think about that) and move it to his main haunt.

He prayed to the universe at large to let him off. Danny hated doing homework- science not withstanding because at least he understood that- let alone an asshole’s centuries worth of work. Danny bemoaned the fact that he was elected the King. He didn’t even defeat Pariah all by himself, so why couldn’t the others do it?!

Like a wave of merciful fate, the beginning tugs of a summoning pulled at his core.

“Thank Ancients!”

Danny scrambled to grab a sticky note, unfortunately glowing green as things tended to in the Ghost Zone, and scribbled down that he’s been summoned and to not look for him until his vacation work was done.

With that note done, Danny decided to bring his A game to the summoning. Allowing his secondary form to wash over him, Danny quickly checked the mirror to make sure he was presentable. A bright glowing ice crown- not the crown of fire, because it was essentially useless without the ring and Danny wasn’t keen on being a king, let alone a near infinitely powerful one- settled across his brow showed his status. A cape, this form’s best feature, made of an expanse of galaxies, nebulae, and frost cling at the end was swept over his shoulders and pinned together with a cloak pin made of clusters of black holes.

A couple of additions to his normal hazmat suit and his trusty thermos at his side, Danny all but dove into the summoning magic with an excited whoop of glee.

As Danny got closer to the magic-made portal, he could hear the whispers of the living presences beyond it.

His summoners! Hopefully it’s not a cult again, even if he thought they were pretty funny trying to summon the king of the dead to kill more people. Not funny “haha,” funny weird.

How should he do this…? Scary? Funny? Oh! Or maybe he should ditch the crown!

Danny grinned, waving his hand to dispel the crown of ice. It was nice, but he was in a dungeon critter mood today.

“Oh, this is going to be gooood.”

Danny cracked his knuckles and put on the most dead-inside-and-outside expression he could manage, modeling it off of the Nasty Burger workers during closing shift. The halfa stepped through the portal.

——

“The ritual is completed! You will all face the might of Pariah Dark, the eternal king of the dead!” The villain of the week cackled as his cult cheered. Wonder Woman, scuffed and injured from the magical bolts these magic users had shot at her earlier, grimaced and raised her sword.

“We will defeat Pariah Dark,” she proclaimed. Her allies rallied at her proclamation and readied themselves for another fight. “This world will not bow to the likes of you!”

“We are all but mere ants before the king of the dead! Pariah Dark will bring forth the reckoning this shitty world deserves!”

“Actually, Pariah Dark’s kind of busy, so you’re gonna have to leave a message.”

Green Arrow’s arrow jerked towards the new voice. Batman paused, hand holding batarangs at the ready. He, out of all of them, knew better than to underestimate a young voice.

A gloved hand shoved through the green portal, using the edges like a door frame to heave itself through. A humanoid shape, with sharp ears all but crawled out of the Lazarus green portal. Batman wondered if this was what Jason saw when he came back to life.

"Lord Pariah Dark is busy?!"

The figure- a boyish not-human- heaved a sigh. "Do you people seriously think that the High King of the Infinite Realms isn't swamped with work?"

"And who are you supposed to be? His secretary?" Hal asked, Ring glowing and at the ready. Wonder Woman tensed and mentally struck Hal away from the list of people to consider for diplomatic missions.

"Me? I'm a glorified paper pusher." The being turned back to the cultists, his cape containing the universe swished behind him. "Did you have a message for Pariah Dark?"

"He was meant to rain down death and destruction!"

"Okay, first of all, I feel like you guys are missing a really important point." The being pointed at the cult leader. “It’s not called the King of the Dead for no reason, you know. Death comes for everyone eventually. Also, I have to do a seriously giant amount of paperwork every time one of you fruitloops gets the bright idea to cause an influx of deaths.”

Danny stomped across the circle, grabbed the collar of the cultist leader’s cloak and yanked him down. He shook him. “Do you people have any idea how annoying it is?! Huh?! Do you know how long the A-354 Form is?! Stop trying to get Pariah to kill people! I’m sick of the paperwork, dammit!”

"How- how did you get out of the circle?!"

The cultists and the heroes squared up, ready to fight the possible common enemy: Danny.

Danny is having the best time of his half life. Screw kingly dignity, Danny’s gotta de-stress somehow! He had a whole bag of complaints!

"You wrote the circle wrong, idiots! Ancients, are you people even literate? What even are those scribbles?" Danny kept shaking the cultist. Wow, what an amazing stress ball!

“Uh- hey, he looks kind of sick…” The Flash said, trying to be a good hero and mediate before escalating. Danny snarled and Flash held up his hands, gulping in fear as Danny’s eyes narrowed at him. “Did I… do something?”

“You,” Danny hissed. “You mother- fruitloop! Stop screwing with the timeline, you giant red-! Do you know how annoying it is to readjust the death count every time one of you little merry red jesters takes a jaunt through time and space?! Do you even know how many complaints I had to field?! Oh, boy you’re all going to regret summoning me today, because I’ve had a long time to think about what I’d do to everyone who made me work overtime!”

Danny bared his teeth, eyes sparkling with mirth as he froze the cultists.

"We're not letting you take over the world," Hawk-Woman said, raising her mace that pulsed with electricity.

Danny snorted to hide his wince. "I'm not interested. Just let me punch him once. Just once." Danny pointed at the Flash.

"Honestly, I can't even blame you," Black Canary muttered, fists raised.

"Wha-! Canary! That's so rude! You traitor!"

"Shouldn't have put skittles in my shoes then. Those hurt, Flash."

"Enough." Everyone shut up at the sound of Batman's command. "What do you mean they wrote the circle wrong."

Danny, who was watching the byplay with interest, shrugged. "They wanted to summon the Ghost King, right? We've had a... change of leaders recently."

"Who is the leader now?"

Danny waggled a finger at Batman. "Nuh-uh. I'm gonna collect my over-time compensation, which is punching the Flash, and then we can negotiate for information."

"Flash."

"I don't want to get punched, Bats!"

"The alternative is that I let the current Ghost King have a go at you."

"Flash."

"Oh my god, just get punched, Barry!" Danny heard Green Lantern Hal Jordan whisper.

"Ugh, fine. No one video this."

Immediately, three phones go up to record the Flash getting decked by a teenage looking ghost. Danny floated closer and wound his fist back, letting loose some of the ghost strength he normally keeps restrained. "This is for my overtime and for Clockwork, you jerk."

The halfa slammed his fist straight into the Flash's face, knocking him clear into the air. Superman catches him but Danny no longer paid attention to the Flash, petty vengeance enacted.

"Honestly, I don't have a problem with you as a person. You're kind of cool. Break the timeline again in the next three months, though, and you're on my shit-list."

"What do you want in exchange for information?"

Danny hummed. "Depending on the level of information, and I reserve the right to not answer any questions. For the name of the current Ghost King..."

He did want that new gaming console. And Jazz could use some help with her rent.

"I want $5,000 and a plate of really good spaghetti."

"I have cash."

Danny nodded at the Dark Knight. "You just carry $5,000 in cash on you? Who does that?"

"I like to be prepared."

"And he's rich," Superman chimed in.

The Flash reappeared with a plate of spaghetti from an Italian place he teleported to. "Here you go. Fresh, and pleasedon'tscrewwithmyafterlife."

Danny shoveled the spaghetti into his mouth, jaw unhinging like a particularly disturbing snake right before he dumped the whole thing- plate and all- down his throat. "Thanks! The food didn't even try to kill me this time! You're good."

"Does your food try to kill you all of the time?!" The Flash- Barry, apparently- asked.

Danny nodded as he took the cash from Batman's gloved hands. "Totally. It sucks."

"Identity." Batman demanded.

"Oh, yeah. The current ghost king is me."

"...What."

"You have been swindled. Bamboozled. Outwitted and outsmarted," Danny snickered, shoving the bundle of cash in his chest. "But seriously, I'm the king. We got rid of Pariah a while ago."

The crown of ice materialized.

"You said you were a glorified paper pusher!" Hawk-Woman chortled.

"I am! I'm pushing so many papers across my desk, it's unending, I swear!"

Batman growled. "You tricked us."

Danny smirked, "You got tricked." Red Robin, in the corner, snorted quietly. "Anyways, if you've got more interesting things around here, I'll considering busying myself with that instead of sentencing you to an afterlife of paperwork."

The adults straightened, grimacing. "Beast Boy is green," Hal offered up.

"Hey!" Beast Boy shouted, offended at the easy way Hal offered him up. He turned to Danny. "But have you ever seen a green chinchilla? Super cute. Watch!"

"Woah!" Danny clapped. Yes, he'll hang out with them before dragging himself back.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Can we get some Sugar Daddy König X Sugar Baby Bimbo!reader that actually is a little oblivious to the fact she is a sugar baby, "oh the colonel? He's just a fwb who likes to pay for dinner and buy me expensive gifts that's all, he's just like really nice"

Konig really doesn't know where to put his money. He bought a house, a car, and a collection of guns that already go over legal limits. He was thinking about buying a second house somewhere warm, but then he thinks about having to take care of that property too, and his head starts to hurt. He wants to put his money into something nice - he has investments, usually something that Hutch is telling him to invest too because he knows more about tech and crypto and other useless stuff. And the colonel still has a huge chunk of money lying around every month. He didn't even notice that he started to pay for your...everything, at first. Even when you were just friends, you were playing this perfect little game of him bringing you money and you never taking your wallet out of the bag. He likes to spoil you. Gifts, food, new clothes - he doesn't knows anything about clothing brands and expensive gadgets, but you start to chirp about wanting new heaphones or a brand of lip gloss that is sooo trendt eight now, and he likes to listen to you speak. Maybe he is playing his old-school fantasy of having a hot, popular girl actually talk to him instead of bullying and yelling. Maybe he is trying to compensate for his lack of female attention. Maybe he is trying to buy you. He knows that you aren't using him because, by god, your pretty little head is too empty to conjure such a scheme. You're always so surprised when he brings you gifts, and you thank him so cheerfully. Bouncing on his cock like a good girl, not because he is asking you to, but because you really just want to cheer him on. Sucking his cock and spreading that expensive lip gloss all over because he is such a cool dude, much better than your friend's boyfriends. Your friends are so jealous about you having such a great sugar daddy, but you don't even realize that Konig is one. Honestly, if you weren't the one initiating sex, he probably wouldn't even ask you to. He brings you gifts and pops a boner whenever you hug him, and then you get sad because he is lonely and rich and so so miserable, you'll just straddle his hips and ride him until you both see stars. He never asked you to have sex in exchange for gifts. You just...like to accept them. And you like sex. Konig simply likes you too.

[lehguru]

CALLING THEM MY LOVE + ONE PIECE MEN

characters: rosinante, doflamingo, shanks, marco, crocodile

warnings: heavily self indulgent in like... 90% of those, not proofread

donquixote rosinante always uses soft nicknames for you, so you thought you could use them with him too. "my love, is law okay?" you expected his back to turn to you, but the man simply stayed like that. "rosi?", you approached him and he let you wrap your arms around his waist. he turned around and you felt something wet fall on your face. 'you never called me your love before.' his voice sounded so soft, he wrapped his arms around you too and placed a kiss on the top of your head. 'i love you.'

donquixote doflamingo is unpredictable; you always wanted to use pet names with him, but you don't know how he would react to it. one day, he walked in your shared bedroom looking absolutely tired and mad. "doffy? are you okay, my love?" his shoulders visibly relaxed and his usual wide grin creeped up on his face. 'oh?' he cooed and motioned with his hand for you to come closer. 'your love? baby, you flatter me.' his hand came up to hold your chin and he chuckled.

shanks and you aren't exactly official. everyone in the crew knows that you "belong" to their captain, but neither shanks nor you made things official. that's why you completely caught him off guard when you murmured: "shanks, my love, where did you put your dirty clothes?". he looked at you shocked, but he soon smiled widely at you. 'darling, ya know you don' have to wash my stuff. c'mere.' with his only arm, he pulled you closer and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. 'love ya'. the crew around both of you started cheering and cooing. shanks started laughing loudly and tried to dismiss them, but you felt him give your hand a tight squeeze.

you had injuried yourself a little during a battle, but marco immediately pulled you to the ship's infirmary when you two got back. you knew it was useless to say you didn't need it, so you just let him tend to your wounds. when he was over, he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and you murmured, "thanks, love". he chuckled loudly and messed up your hair. 'no problem, sweetheart.'

crocodile was feared by so many people, even among his "friends"; but you, you know you are on his soft and sweet side. "my love!" you exclaimed, entering his office with a dish you just prepared, "can you taste this for me?". his eyes went from rough and cold to slightly softer when you stopped right by his side, holding out a piece of the meat you made for him to bite. he bit it and groaned softly. 'it's delicious, angel.' you smiled at him and kissed his cheek, making him smile for a second, before turning back to his papers.

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

I posted 1,103 times in 2022

That's 442 more posts than 2021!

143 posts created (13%)

960 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@skyllion-uwu

@elytrians

@majimassqueaktoy

@veemopusvulgaris

@cherumie

I tagged 878 of my posts in 2022

Only 20% of my posts had no tags

#goro majima - 86 posts

#bugsnax - 62 posts

#yakuza game - 55 posts

#bioshock - 39 posts

#smol makes art - 32 posts

#goromi - 30 posts

#otto octavius - 24 posts

#doc ock - 24 posts

#bugsnax oc - 23 posts

#smol responds - 23 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#(idk if i worded this joke well but yall get my point. let my favs have fun and enjoy themselves now and then before everything goes to hell

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Joey Lesbeans idk is this anything

188 notes - Posted June 7, 2022

#4

I have no explanation really please enjoy this shitpost

200 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

#3

this man won’t leave me alone and I love him for it

268 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

#2

Hey yall I wanna see something

Reblog and write in the tags your choices from the following:

- Sun, Moon, or Stars?

- Christmas, Halloween, or Easter?

- Peter Pan, Alice In Wonderland, or Wizard of Oz?

385 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Build Our Machine

See the full post

465 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[realcube]

can't stop thinking about quirk marriage au! with tenya iida.

with villains becoming stonger as the years go on, the iida family realise they will need to toughen up if they want their future generations to stand a chance at becoming decent heroes. especially after what happened to tensei.

to preserve their prestigious lineage, they arrange a quirk marriage for tenya, with a reader whose quirk is related to stamina or durability, in hopes to bear offspring who are both fast and hardy. reader comes from a poor background so they agree in exchange for money to support their family.

at first the marriage feels very much like business and tenya treats it as such; respecting you as much as he would a co-worker. which, albeit, is a lot but he doesn't care about you the way a husband should. he opens doors for you and will help you with household chores and is generally nurturing during your pregnancy, but he has no interest in sharing a bedroom or even eating dinner together. because he may be the father to your child, but he's not your friend.

it goes on like that for a while, until one day he hears you crying in your room. he's not monster, so of course he checks on you to see what the issue is, and you explain to him that you're afraid of what will happen if your child doesn't inherit a composite quirk. if you would be replaced and left to care for it on your own. he reassures you that he'd never abandon you or his child, and that the two of you could always try again. success doesn't come easy.

however, the moment of vulnerablitiy he shared with you was exactly that — a moment. afterwards, he immediately went back to being stern and distant, which contributed you putting up walls to protect your feeling from if he were to ever disappoint you again in the future. like a mantra that repeated in your mind constantly, he doesn't love you and you don't love him.

he never picked up on your increased resistance though, not until three years after the birth of your child and they began displaying signs of a fusion quirk. he turned to you, delighted, and you appeared relieved too, but he was left gawking incredulously after you said, "how lucky. thank the lord we don't need to have another child. one was hard enough."

hearing that caused his heart to drop, as he realised who he had become and the cumulative impact his behaviour has had on you. how could his own wife depise him to that extent? this question haunted him because he knew the answer, he just never had the strength to confront it before.

he had to do something to fix it, now. loving him wasn't necessary, but he needed to prove to you his worth as a father and a husband. he did his best to attend every single one of your kid's baseball games with you, he'd buy you a new bouquet of flowers every week, he'd kiss you on the cheek as a show of affection, whenever you needed a self-care day he'd arrange time-off work, he'd take the family out to the aquarium and the zoo and disneyland and wherever you pleased.

but none of it was ever enough to penetrate your rigid defences. despite his best efforts, he was left with a wife that hates him and child that may grow up to resent him. what a legecy he has paved.

one night, he is sat in bed, doing some light reading before he goes to sleep, when his child sulks into the room. they explain they had a nightmare and want to sleep in their dad's bed tonight. of course tenya agrees and usually there isn't any problems, but tonight the child continued to stir, until they requested, "can mommy sleep here too?"

tenya blinked. usually he would bend over backwards to cheer up his kid, especially as they are having sleep troubles, but this is a bit more complicated as you might be opposed to the idea. however, there was no harm in trying, so tenya sent the kid to your room to ask if it was okay with you.

and of course, you adore your child with everything you have, so if sleeping with your useless husband is what it takes to help them rest soundly, then so be it. you trudge into tenya's room and plop down on the queen-sized bed, with your beloved baby nuzzled between you two. it actually wasn't as awkward as you initially thought, and all three of you are lulled off into the serene night.

tenya woke up before you, so he was the first to realise that your child had snuck off in the middle of the night, while the two of you subconciously cuddled each other. hence, he had you wrapped in his strong arms, with your face nuzzled into his chest.

even with bedhead and a bit drool smudged on your cheek, he thought, you were still so beautiful. so much so, he couldn't help but smile and protectively tighten his grip on you. so funny too. sarcastic yet sickeningly sweet and caring.

had things been different, he wondered if the two of you would've truly been in love. he reckons so; you really are his type, and the perfect girl, which is something he's realising all too late. he blames the circumstances and wishes more than anything that the two of you could've met organically, because although he isn't the best husband, he would give anything to have been your boyfriend.

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

Gabriel: I see that you're alone.

MC: ...

MC: Congrats. You have eyes.

Gabriel: *immediately shows displeasure*

MC: Chill. You've just arrived.

Gabriel: A foolish human pretending to be god. I don't know how you managed to convince Raphael, but that's not important right now.

Gabriel: I will punish you myself.

MC: Would that be a wise decision? Let me remind you.

MC: I had you incapacitated for months. And I will do that again.

Gabriel: ...

Gabriel: *smiles* You didn’t think I came here alone, did you?

*Other angels showed up.*

Gabriel: You made a grave mistake of sending those devils away.

MC: Maybe? Maybe not.

MC: I just don't like getting bothered.

Gabriel: *has sensed something is wrong*

MC: *smirks*

MC: I was expecting you, Gabriel.

Gabriel: *magic circles started to appear around him*

MC: These angels are under your control. So let me borrow your authority for a moment.

MC: ...

MC: Die.

*The angels, in an act of self-destruction, snapped their own necks, resulting in everyone falling from the sky.*

Gabriel: How dare you...

MC: *nods in satisfaction* Not bad.

MC: I should thank Gusion for helping me with the calculations.

Gabriel: *tries to break free*

MC: Give up. It'll be useless.

Gabriel: AAHHH!

MC: *rolls their eyes*

MC: You're telling me you can't lock up this guy?

Belphegor: We were not expecting you'd catch him.

MC: Okay. Can't you make him sleep for eternity then?

Belphegor: Too bothersome.

MC: You're fucking useless.

Gabriel: I will kill you in the worst way possible...

MC: Shut the fuck up.

Beleth: ...

Beleth: Descendant of Solomon, won't it be possible to do the same thing to him?

MC: 'That'?

MC: ...

MC: I've already got one psycho. You want me to make them two?

Beleth: Would that be a problem?

MC: You're really trying your luck.

Beleth: *chuckles*

MC: ...

MC: *sigh* Make him drink the blood.

Beleth: *nods then approaches Gabriel*

Gabriel: What are you going to do?!

Beleth: You'll see.

MC: ...

Gabriel: *is on the floor, writhing in pleasure*

MC: ...

MC: Ew.

Beleth: *who is surprised too* Was Raphael like this when he drank your blood?

MC: Nope.

Gabriel: God... You've returned...

MC: ...

MC: I got myself another burden.

Andrealphus: I'll kill him for you.

MC: Calm down. As much as I hate this, I have to take this bastard to Gehenna.

Belphegor: Huh. How are you going to do that?

MC: *frowns*

Beleth: Don't do them like that, Your Majesty.

Karelphus: MC? You're leaving?

MC: Yeah.

Karelphus: I'll go with you!

MC: ...

MC: No. You stay here.

Karelphus: Why? I can be useful too...

MC: I know. But Niflheim needs more "responsible" devils.

MC: If only your king is not a deadbeat.

Belphegor: *chuckles*

Karelphus: ...

Karelphus: Once I become an adult, I'll follow you!

MC: Yeah, yeah. Sure.

Karelphus: *cheers up*

Gabriel: *still moaning in pleasure*

MC and the others: ...

MC: Beleth, you have a stapler?

Barbatos: This time it's Seraph Gabriel?

Foras: *nods* *displeased* And he seemed to enjoy it.

Glasyalabolas: This is bad.

Glasyalabolas: Looks like them being god could be true.

[jinnie-ret]

9th member whos family is extremely unsupportive of their career choices, skz do their best to cheer them up after a loud argument that the boys overhear. their family is rude and downright mean to their 9th member and they cant let them be put down by their family so they remind her that theyre her family. love your writing.

family is complicated

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: emotionally abusive parents

word count: 1.6k

summary: after your troubling phone call is overhead by all of the boys, they comfort you and reassure you that they are your true family

Thank you sm for your request!! I hope you enjoy this one too :)))

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Y/Nnie! Lunch is ready," Chan called the maknae into the kitchen, plating up some food for her. Although they lived in different dorms now, Y/N staying with 3RACHA and Hyunjin, and Lee Know and Felix staying with VocalRACHA, they decided to do a whole group meal today.

Everyone was sat waiting at the table, before a sluggish looking Y/N padded into the kitchen, wiping sleep away from her eyes.

"Aw bless her, she looks exhausted," Felix whispered and frowned to Han, who nodded along.

"It's her mum and dad again, don't mention them yeah?" Han quietly replied, offering a light smile to Y/N when she plonked herself down into the chair opposite him.

"Mmm, what's for breakfast?" Y/N blinked her eyes rapidly, where redness could be seen around the lids. After an endless streams of texts from her parents last night, she cried herself to sleep, the boys doing their best to comfort her before she allowed herself to break down.

"It's lunch time, silly," Hyunjin fondly giggled as he ruffled her hair and placed a cup of tea down in front of her. "Here, peppermint tea, I know it's your favourite."

"Thanks Jinnie," Y/N tilted her head upwards and he smiled and scrunched his nose at her in response.

"It's nice having lunch together like this, I feel like we haven't done it in a while," Jeongin commented, twirling some ramen with his chopsticks.

"We had fried chicken at the company like two days ago," Changbin pointed out and laughed.

"Yeah but it's different being sat around the table with a home cooked meal," Lee Know nodded and agreed with Jeongin.

"It's different now, like sometimes I get a facetime and just have Seungmin staring at me whilst he eats like," Han starts laughing, and mimics the face the puppy like member of the group would pull.

"What do you think about eating on your own, Seungmin? Now that we've split into different dorms," Chan asked curiously from one end of the table.

"I love it so much," Seungmin genuinely and joyfully says, causing everyone to break out into laugh, Hyunjin's iconic cackle sticking out amongst them all. Even Y/N, in a tired quiet mood, broke out into a smile.

But that happy mood, was torn in half by the ringtone that blared from Y/N's phone. She picked up her phone and sighed when she saw the contact name, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Are you ok, Y/N?" Minho queried gently from next to her, making his tone more caring and comforting like he always did when he spoke to her. She was similar to Felix in that she had a sensitive heart.

"I'm f-fine, umm, I've got to take this," Y/N scoots out of her chair from the dining table, and walks round the corner from the kitchen into the hallway that followed down to their individual bedrooms.

"I'm worried about her," Jeongin spoke up, a frown tugging on his features, the corners of his mouth pulled downwards.

"I swear if that's her parents-" Changbin gritted his teeth.

"When will you come home and leave that useless job behind you?"

"Mum, why do you always do this to me? I'm doing something that I truly love and you always dismiss it!"

"I don't care about what you enjoy doing. You're not thinking about your family. How could you leave us like this? It's disrespectful. You've betrayed us!"

"I send money to you every month! I support you! I do everything I can, mum!"

"Your everything isn't good enough, Y/N. You're an embarrassment to the whole family."

"Mum don't say that!"

Then there was the sound of the phone call being hung up on, and Y/N quickly dashed past the opening of the hallway to rush into the bathroom.

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, girl. I thought you may have changed your mind after my wise words last night, but I can see you're still as stupid and ignorant as ever."

"Y/N-" Han stood up to stop her and grab her attention, but she had already slammed the door.

"Have they always been that bad?" Seungmin questioned, appalled at the phone call they all overheard.

In her tired state, Y/N must have put the call on loudspeaker, and not realised that the boys had heard it too.

"I knew they were bad but... hearing her own mother yell at her like that... I thought the texts were bad," Chan sighed and shook his head. His hands rested on the table and he cracked his knuckles together.

"Why, what happened with the texts? Hannie said just to act normal but..." Felix brought up what he had said earlier.

"Yesterday she got some threatening texts from her dad, telling her he'd fly over to Seoul and personally drag her back home, and if she didn't 'comply and obey him' he'd make sure that she'd 'pay for it'," Hyunjin sighed, quoting the exact words he read from Y/N's phone himself.

"That bastard threatened violence?!" Lee Know exclaimed in disbelief, his fist clenched tightly around the edge of the table.

"We should check on her," Jeongin got up as he shook his head, walking round to the bathroom and knocking on the door. "Y/Nnie? Do you want to talk about what happened, love? We all heard," he added onto the end.

"No, it's fine, Innie. I'm ok, please don't come in," Y/N's voice cracked. "I just want some time to myself," she whimpered from the cold bathroom floor, rocking back and forth as she tried to process the words her own mother threw at her once more. Her mind was frantically pulling her in all sorts of different directions, saying 'what if' a thousand times.

"Sweetheart, please talk to us, we're worried about you," Felix's deep voice came from the other side of the door.

"I'm fine," Y/N sniffled, shakily standing up as her head pounded from all of the stress.

"You're not, we can hear it in your voice, Y/Nnie," Lee Know said firmly, a hint of frustration in his voice but only because he cared about her so much.

"Please open the door, Y/N," Jeongin tried again, hand resting against the door.

"She's not going to, mate," Bang Chan sighed, slumping down into the sofa, stretching out his neck and body. "She said she wants to be alone."

But then, the lock to the bathroom door clicked, revealing an exhausted looking Y/N who had tear streams down her face, as well as red eyes and a red nose.

"I don't want to talk about it," Y/N could barely look up at the three members that had been stood outside of the bathroom waiting for her.

"That's fine, just come sit with us, yeah?" Felix grabbed her hand gently.

"Don't shut us out, please," Lee Know ducked his head down to look into her eyes, and the girl nodded, still looking down at her feet. He rested his hand on her lower back as they encouraged her to head through to the lounge.

"Come here," Hyunjin opened his arms immediately as soon as she entered the room and just like that she was glued to his side.

"Y/N, I know you won't want to talk about it, but let us talk to you, ok?" Changbin started, "The way you have been treated by your parents, is by all means, not ok."

"And we want you to know, because we heard what your mum said, you are enough for us," Seungmin added on.

Their kind words caused her to let out a sob, and she heard coos and hushes around her of 'oh, Y/N!'.

"Darling, please don't get upset," Han crouched down in front of Y/N and wiped her tears away, and Hyunjin's arms tightened around her.

"I-it's just, it's-" Y/N couldn't get her words out before another sob ripped from her throat.

"Y/Nnie, breathe, it's ok love, take your time," Chan gently spoke up, causing her to listen to his words and actively take some deep breaths.

"We won't let you feel down ever again from the things they had said or done to you," Lee Know promised.

"We're your family, Y/Nnie," Jeongin cracked a small smile, eyes glistening with tears of his own.

"I wish you had been my family from the start. I feel like I've wasted so much of my life already," Y/N cried out, her hands digging into her legs.

"Oh, if we could have been a group from the start I'm sure we would have. Just think this, you've got us now. I know it's easier said then done, but don't worry about the past. Let's just think about our future, ok?" Changbin said from next to her on the sofa, gently pulling her hands away from her lap to prevent her from causing more harm.

"But what if-" Y/N stuttered and stopped herself from continuing once more.

"There are no what ifs with us, Y/N," Hyunjin rubbed circles into her shoulders.

"Yeah, you're stuck with us now," Han joked, trying to lighten the mood, and it worked.

For a few more moments you revelled in the comfort of being with your members, your family before going on with the rest of your day. And if anyone asked Chan if he blocked your mum and dad's phone numbers, he'd say no, of course. If they were really worried, they had other ways of getting in contact. It wouldn't hurt anyone. Just make your lives easier as a family.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky

[lisired]

the devil’s cup

pairing: demon!haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), demons/underworld, mentions of death and self-destruction, unprotected sex/breeding (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), edging, very slight degradation

summary: In a world where humans and demons are separated by earth and the unknown, you’re curious about the creatures that most mortal beings are too frightened to investigate. More specifically if they can please you sexually. As they say, curiosity killed the cat.

wc: 6.8k (this is the shortest fic I’ve done in a minute)

a/n: quick (and short) write! as always, feedback is appreciated!

There was a bit of division between the upper and underworld. 

That said, that never prevented the interaction of humans and infernal spirits. It only limited them, though even with said inhibitions in place, forbidding could only go so far within mortal control. 

Not everyone was god-fearing. Least of all demons. 

Though you weren’t exactly fearless, you were curious to a fault. Human knowledge of the underworld was limited. You lived in a world where plenty of supernatural beings - werewolves, faes, vampires and the like - coexisted in an integrated society, but demons lived in an unexplored world of their own.

Which, obviously, was the underworld. 

The church insisted it was for your own sake. You had practically never mentioned your intrigue to anyone, though that was chiefly because you were terrified to. The pastors were passionate in their sermons, deeming anyone who played with the devil a sinner beyond redemption and a betrayer of faith. You knew you’d be thrown scornful glances in an instant. 

You weren’t the only curious one. There were plenty groups of people who conjectured about the underworld and its occupants. Which was not an option for you for many reasons. First of all, they teetered on extremism. Second, you would undoubtedly be banished from society for so much as breathing near them. 

Your only option was your friend. Who happened to be supernatural himself. 

Ten laughed. “Let me get this straight. You want to fuck around with the devil?” 

You frowned. Though you definitely preferred the ridicule over the comtempt. He, however, wasn’t exactly in the place to mock you. “Come on, Ten. Didn’t you call on a succubus?” 

“Correction - you want to fuck the devil.” 

“Ten,” you whined. 

Ten shook his head. This was hilarious, because you were completely serious. It was also somewhat worrying. Most humans that had toyed with the devil for too long never survived. “Babe, I’m a vampire. Have been for sixty-two years. I’m technically in my eighties. You, sweetheart, are a human. Incubi can kill mortals like you.”

No wonder he tended to act like a cranky grandpa. You folded your arms stubbornly. 

The truth was that you were searching for a way to spice up your sex life and strangely enough, a demon sounded like exactly what you needed. You were desperate at this point. The men earth had provided for you were useless. You could count on both hands how many times you had given them a try and were ultimately unsatisfied. You were out of options. 

“One time won’t hurt, right?” you asked, batting your lashes. “Please, Ten. I just want to try. I can only die if I do it continuously.” 

Ten blew out a sigh. “Woman, you’re insane.” 

You whined, “Pretty please? I’ll literally buy you those Starbucks drinks you like everyday for a month. I need this.”

Ten mulled the offer over. On one hand, this was not only dangerous, but deadly. There was a chance that he could risk losing you in the process. But on the other, you were a responsible adult woman. It wasn’t like you would be selling your soul. You’d simply be testing the waters. “Fine. I’ll help you, but you better only do this shit once. I’ve had to bury a friend before. I don’t wanna go through that hell again.”

You lept up excitedly and cheered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so much.”

“Whatever,” Ten said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be back later with the stuff. And I’m taking it back after tonight.” 

Frankly, you couldn’t care less. You knew your best friend was only trying to protect you, and you genuinely didn’t intend on disobeying. You were curious, not stupid. Nor did you have a death wish. 

Ten reappeared later that night with the materials necessary to summon a demon. Technically, you could have done it without them, but that would’ve been a much more ineffective, chance-based approach. It also most likely would have taken way longer. According to Ten, the board had a ninety-percent success rate. 

He had told you, “Unless you’re like, extremely unfuckable, it’ll work for sure.”

You snorted. 

That was how you met Haechan. 

Black smoke rose from the ground, wavering murkily with a ghastly noise until it dwindled fainter and fainter. You took a step or two back, holding your breath with curious fear as you waited for the mist to clear. 

Once it did, the handsomest man you had ever seen materialized before you.

You audibly gasped. Frankly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. His dark hair was slicked back, forehead exposed to the breeze that temporarily coursed through your home, and he was tan-skinned. Like the heat of hell had graced his body. 

His pretty lips curled into the utmost smuggest grin. “Aren’t I lucky? I could feel that you would be gorgeous.” 

“You could feel it?” you repeated dumbly. In your defense, you were stunned. 

The average idea of a demon was a grotesque blood-hungry monster and needless to say, this nameless boy didn’t fit the bill. Part of you was half certain that Ten was pranking you, firm in his decision that it was foolish for a human to engage with a demon. He seemed like a regular, everyday being. Except maybe not. Most men weren’t this beautiful. And his presence was inexplicably strong.

Haechan scoffed, “Yeah? How else do you think I got here? I could feel your energy. It was calling me.” 

The room reeled. The air felt different, thicker. Your body lighter. There was an air of danger to this boy with a trace of something else that you were equally drawn to. 

Energy. Was it possible that you could feel his energy too? 

Given you were in a state of mental narcosis, more or less the effect of his aura, Haechan gleaned you wouldn’t respond and instead approached you. It felt like you were jolted awake when his warm skin pressed to yours, his lips and breath ticking your neck. 

“Haechan,” the demon whispered, but it felt like the thrumming of the wind. “That’s the name I want you to say tonight.”

Heat wafted over you. You nodded, because you couldn’t say another word. As if an invisible hand was clasped around your throat. 

Haechan coiled an arm around your waist, forcing your back flush against his chest. “Tell me what you want,” he purred. Your thighs were bare and he snagged the opportunity to grope them, free hand leisurely rising higher. For now, they landed squarely at your ass. “So I can help you.”

You swallowed hard. Part of you was afraid, but the other was enticed by the danger. It always had been. Your voice lacked complete confidence. “I… wanted something new. The men here aren’t adequate. I needed something else.” 

“Oh?” Haechan cocked a brow and snickered. “Don’t worry about that tonight, baby. I’ll make you forget about everyone except me.” 

For a while, you had been at war with yourself, dithering between your options. But Haechan had tempted you. Whatever fight you had abandoned you as he brought you to your bed. 

Every alarm in your body was ringing, sirening to you that danger was near at hand, but the soft lulling of his voice abated your panic. The horns were blown, but you were too far gone to hear them. 

Haechan lay you at your backside and you swayed like a leaf, throat parched dry when you glimpsed into his eyes. They were red with lust, dark as blood. “Don’t look so scared,” he reproached, but it was of little substance given the smidgen of a smirk you’d seen on his lips. 

You were still tongue tied and at a loss for breath, never mind words. 

Haechan’s touch wasn’t gentle in the slightest as he came to tear your clothes away, shredding them layer by layer. His fingers skimmed against your body and your skin scorched where he touched you. 

Admittedly, it was somewhat true that you were frightened, but this was exactly what you needed to fill the empty chasm of excitement in your sex life. Between thrill and fear, the feeling that coursed through your veins was indistinguishable. 

You had cycled through mortals and been left unimpressed each time. There was bad, and then there was decent. You wanted neither. You wanted someone to go above and beyond. They tended to do only enough to barely get you there. If even. You’d seen it all; you wanted mind-blowing.

You shivered at the cool sensation of the air against naked skin, but it was immediately negated by Haechan’s body heat. Still, it wasn’t enough. You whimpered, “Touch me.” 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Haechan snickered. “Say please.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Please. I need you to touch me.” 

Satisfied, Haechan snatched your panties with a final tear and skirted a hand between your thighs. They were already open and parted, welcoming him keenly. 

It was only when you felt his slender fingers scissoring between your thighs did you notice how wet you were. The thought alone had been arousing. The sight of him even more. It was the weaving of those individual factors that had you gathering in his palms like water. 

Haechan shook his head with mirth. “Something tells me that you don’t get wet like this too often. Do you, baby?”

The answer to that was so embarrassingly obvious that you wanted to shrink until nothing remained of you. Your cheeks stung. “No. Not really.” The more you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you had been so aroused. 

If ever. 

“Aren’t you a little sinner,” Haechan said and chuckled to himself. Needless to say, he was amused. A pretty girl like you that could most likely have any guy she wanted calling on a demon because the men on earth can’t satisfy her? He was delighted. And almost humiliated on their behalf.

Like the cruel demon he was, he added, “It’s a little pathetic, don’t you think? Getting wet for me when you could easily find a human to fuck.” 

You whined, but ironically pulsed around his fingers. Those words were as true as they were humiliating. His fingers coaxed into you with a loud, wet squelch. 

Haechan eyed you with the intensity of a ravening werewolf. The likes of you were familiar - pretty girls that were too curious for their own good and went looking into entities where they had no business for pleasure. Never would you be the first or last, though regardless he had a job that he was more than glad to fulfill. 

Pleasure played out on your face. That said, you wanted more. You had always considered that maybe you were the problem. Maybe you were the one at fault because you were too greedy, too insatiable. Enough was a word of little subtance to you. 

But you noticed a sort of stark divergence here. With your previous conquests, you were unsatisfied because they took pleasuring you as if it were drudgery. This was more or less a job for Haechan, yet in spite of that, he seemed enlivened. 

Boys came a dime a dozen. Pleasure like this? It was a luxury far beyond your worth. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered. You were even willing to beg, if that was what it took. 

“Mm, no. Not yet,” Haechan said, having a good chuckle at the look of incredulity on your face at your expense. 

Never had you ever been turned down. It was always you that turned people away. Men that were bound to be disappointments in the sack lined up for you. They never hesitated to take advantage of your desperation. 

Haechan curled his fingers, sending every wall of the room reeling. Your pupils dilated when he leaned in, firmly holding your jaw to make you meet his stare. “Human boys don't build you up, do they? They just take what they want and leave. I'm going to take my time with you, baby.”

You doubted anyone had ever uttered anything like that to you before. 

His grip slackened. Not many words needed to be exchanged, the two of you content with the sounds of your soft moans and wet cunt filling the air. 

The glimmer of mischief on Haechan’s face turned pensive. “Can’t decide how I want to fuck you. What about you, pretty thing - how do you want to be fucked?”

You felt your cheeks warm in response to his question, though you had a contemplative answer. Any additional eye contact would have landed you in an early grave, but you wanted him to take control. Too many times had you had to take the lead because you chased your own pleasure. You were in dire need of relaxation. 

And if you were being honest, you'd let him have you any which way. 

“From behind,” you replied, clinging to the pretense of indifference. 

The mischief returned at the speed of light and Haechan taunted, “Scared to look me in the eyes?” 

You blurted, “Can you read my mind?”

“Yes.”

Every functioning gear within you halted and your body slammed on the brakes. Made worse by the serious look on his face. 

Then, Haechan erupted with laughter. “Sike.” You were relieved, though not amused. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m not psychic.” 

As if to apologize for the massive scare he’d only just now given you, Haechan swept in and pressed a brief yet unnaturally hypnotic kiss to your lips.

You felt like you could die at any given moment, but strangely enough, you liked it. 

It was game over when he interposed another finger between your walls, tall and slender. You were plagued by so many emotions all at once that you hardly realized how close you'd gotten in no time at all. Time expedited, but the minutes ticked slower.

You grabbed Haechan’s wrist, fighting for control of his movements, though not that he needed much guidance. It was an act of bad habit, you supposed, but Haechan smirked and let you do as you pleased. For now. 

“Haechan,” you whimpered, reminded of the name you were instructed to say. 

The man in question eyed you with a lustful awe. It was the first time you’d said his name and brother, was it a delightful noise. He hummed, “Close?”

You bobbed your head. No words needed to be said. The way your entire body responded to his touch as if it was owned by him was enough of an indication. 

In a mere instant, you felt empty and desolate, warmth fading into crisp ice without warning. You whimpered, turning to look at the culprit, but met with only a smug smile. 

No way in hell had this demon just edged you. 

Haechan beat you to a word and explained, “I want you to cum on my dick. Is that alright, princess?”

“Please, hurry,” was your desperate response. You had no protest. You simply needed to feel him as soon as possible. 

Haechan had a nice laugh at the sight of you trying to find his hands anew and fuck yourself against them, but retrieved them, bringing his fingers that were coated in your slick to his mouth and sucking them clean. Ironically, you tasted like heaven. 

You moaned when Haechan kissed you, his saliva palliative to the ache of the wait and wanting. It took your mind off of the throbbing between your sensitive thighs while he shredded what remained of his clothes. You were so wrapped in his dark magic, a pawn in his devilish game, but you didn’t care. He could destroy you until you were no longer flesh and bones and you'd say, “Thank you.” 

Haechan was ready with burning lust and he growled, “Hands and knees.” 

You didn’t hesitate to scramble into position, as if he'd punish you for wasting a second of time. Every voice in your mind was subdued and you only listened to the thudding sound of your racing pulse. It screamed even louder the closer Haechan’s body came into yours. 

A gasp tore out of you the moment you noticed his cock stretching you open, ceasing the long wait. It was accompanied by another hushed growl, Haechan’s hands finding purchase at your hips. He filled you nice and slow, the pace so agonizing that you were tempted to believe he was testing you for the sake of toying with you. 

“Don’t tease. Please,” you begged. “I want you to fuck me - hard.” 

Haechan cocked a brow, but made no protest. “Whatever my pretty girl wants.” 

You fought for breath when every inch was encased between your warm and wet walls, pulsing around his thick cock. Haechan penetrated you with a hiss at how you swathed around him so tightly. 

Your body came alive at the touch of the undead, responding to his body with voracity. Haechan had no intention of restraining himself, ramming his hips into yours vigorously. He set a brutal pace, enough to sate you and your unnatural urges. For now. Your flesh scorched with fever, broiling under his fingertips yet craving more of him, more of the singe. You were indescribably elated. 

Haechan seized you to a bruising extent and braced his teeth into your shoulder, effectively smothering a noise. You let out a cry of pain and pleasure, warped together to create some inexplicable sensation.

“So goddamn tight,” Haechan hissed, giving your ass a smack or three. Every thwack sent you clamping even tighter. “You like it rough?”

Between a thread of moans, you whimpered, “Yes.” But the way he drove his cock into you - hurried and ruthless - bundled your head into the mattress, your cries smothered by the pillows.

Haechan latched onto your hair, letting out a hollow, breathy laugh when you moaned. You were so eager to take him, never shying away from his actions.  

It was paranormal, like nothing you had ever felt before. You'd yet to discern the invisible shroud of mist that billowed in the air, the spine-chilling gale that swept over you and chaperoned his presence, but you loved it. It kept you on your toes and made you hold your breath. Something to this extent felt forbidden, like you were getting a taste of pleasure beyond human capacity. It was an ethereal and otherworldly type of pleasure.

You felt so light that you could topple over from one breath. 

Haechan’s eyes lingered on the way your whole body tremored at the impact of his thrusts, your ass meeting his cock with a slap and your breasts bouncing underneath you. Your body was gradually beginning to be coated in bruises and scratches, remnants of him that would linger even after he was long gone. 

You loved that he was rough, loved that he fucked you like there was no tomorrow without overdoing it. He only had one night to give you the best dick of your life and was successful so near in. 

Many had tried, but many had failed to fuck you like this. You knew you would be sad to see him go. 

“Oh my god,” you cried, your voice given an outfall for speech courtesy of the way Haechan lifted your head by your hair. You were melting into abyss. 

Haechan tugged at it a little rougher and demanded, “Tell me you love this.” 

“I love it. I love it so much,” you babbled. Your thoughts were revoked. Your body was on fire. You knew one thing and it was the feeling that lit you off and riled you up. 

The demon boy smiled. He wasn’t psychic, but he knew how you felt without saying. It was in how your body responsed to his, submitting to his every move. Your body betrayed you, presenting all of your emotions on a silver platter. 

Haechan discerned you were near your climax and leaned closer, teeth grazing over your shoulder when he growled, “You’re close.”

It wasn’t a question; you were close. That much was obvious. You could only bob your head, blabbering more hardly coherent sentences that he found amusing. 

You fisted the pillows and sheets for dear life, clinging to whatever you possibly could to anchor yourself. You felt like you had been put together solely to be destroyed afresh. As if his intention was to shatter you piece by piece. 

In that case, he was doing a damn good job. 

If possible, Haechan’s pace became even more merciless. “Let go,” he coaxed surprisingly gently, strumming you to climax with his fingers at your clit. Your body one-hundred percent intended to obey him, unable to defy its urges. 

You screamed with orgasm, burying your face into the pillows to smother your cries of pleasure. Tears welled in your eyes, rivulets trickling down your cheeks. Your body felt whole and empty all at once, overcome by an overwhelming sense of relief. Even after you came, you were still pulsing around his cock, eager to get him there. 

“Cum,” you begged, still waiting for him. “Please?” 

The desperacy in your voice practically finished Haechan then and there, and he grunted, “Fuck.” There was no way he could tell a pretty thing like you, “No.” 

Haechan found a bruising grip on your ass to anchor himself and his cock twitched with release inside you, his mouth parting with a series of moans and growls. You whimpered when he filled you, painting your walls with warm cum. Only then did your spent body slacken, collapsing exhaustedly against the sheets. 

Haechan flipped you on your back and kissed the corner of your lips. There was something abnormally soporific about the way he tasted, because your eyelids began to weigh more than your body altogether. 

“That’s it, baby. Go to sleep,” Haechan whispered, lulling you to sleep with his gentle voice. 

There was nothing to fight. Your body lost all strength when you climaxed, and you succumbed to sleep in a matter of mere seconds.

“Atta girl,” was the last thing you heard before pitch black darkness bled into your vision. 

When you roused from your sheets in the morning, Haechan was - as expected - no longer there, but traces of last night remained. Your bed was a mess, but you were in shambles, hair tangled on your bed and your body stained with tears, scratches and bruises.

Humorously, though somewhat questionably, only none of his semen was there. You wondered if demons could get humans pregnant. 

You were elated, but somewhat disappointed. From the beginning, you were aware that you couldn’t see him again, but after last night, you were desperate. There was no way in hell he could show you a good time to simply never see you again. It was unfair. 

The sound of your front door being pounded mercilessly startled you and you jumped out of bed, scrambling to cover your bare body and then rushed to the door.

When you opened the front door, Ten awaited you on the other side.

“You look like hell,” commented Ten offhandedly. You were always in wonder at how vampires could roam in the daylight, but allegedly, it was courtesy of potions and spell work. 

“I had a long night,” you deadpanned. 

Ten chortled and stepped inside. “I’m sure.”

You shut the door behind the pair of you and led him to your bedroom where your sheets were a disheveled mess on your bed. Last night had left the board on the floor to be forgotten. 

Disinterestedly, you plopped on your bed. There was a question billowing like fog in your brain and you feigned your most indifferent tone when you asked, “Will he want to come back?”

Ten thought nothing of your question and shrugged, leaning over to pick up the materials you'd abandoned. “Depends. Demons know these… arrangements get messy. Some care, some like messy. It's not rare. Just in case, I’ll have a witch friend of mine fix a spell to ward evil spirits off.”

“Oh,” you replied, playing innocent. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You dwelled over last night and the thought of Haechan coming back for seconds. You weren’t special, that you knew. Demons of his kind has a nonselect variety to choose from, but you knew only he could pleasure you like that again. 

Like he was catching on, Ten added, “It’s not a good idea to give him a chance to get attached. Some demons are bitter and possessive. The moment they want you to be theirs, they’ll hurt you and anyone else who gets in their way in response to a perceived betrayal.”

His warning spooked you, but not by much. You assured Ten that you understood and would leave that night behind you. After all, with all the measures taken, it was out of your hands. 

One night became several. 

In your defense, you weren’t the one that summoned him. It was because of your energy. He always claimed he could feel you. You frequently laid brooding in your home, yearning for him to return. 

And then, he appeared. You knew when Haechan was there and when he wasn't. It was his presence. You could feel it in your chest. You couldn’t explain it, but whenever he was in range, a gust of cool air would sweep over your shoulders and a thick gale would strike your lungs, rendering you breathless. 

Haechan materialized in that same shroud of mist, snickering to himself when your startled figure trembled. 

You gawked when you saw him in full glory. “How the hell…” 

“Your friend isn’t the only one who knows a sorcerer,” Haechan grinned smugly. “I felt your yearning - did you miss me?” 

Oh, did you. You had spent the past couple of weeks trying to get yourself off the way that he had, but to no avail. There was only one remedy for you and you were forbidden to have him. 

“A little,” you admitted. Though you had a feeling he could see right through you, it was a lot easier to say compared to admitting you thought of how his hands felt on your body every time you touched yourself. 

“I think you missed me a lot,” Haechan teased, stepping closer. Meanwhile, you were riveted in place, unable to move. You gasped when his hands browsed up your dress, targeting your damp panties. “Are you saying this isn’t for me?” 

You tensed and whined, “Haechan.”

Haechan gave you a smile, the same devilish one he always wore. He slipped your panties to the side and brushed his slender fingers against your dampening cunt. “Tell me you missed me.” 

“I missed you. I missed you a lot,” you confessed without hesitation. “I… I’ve been thinking about you all day.” 

He cocked a brow and crammed a pair of fingers inside you. “Yeah? You been thinking about me fucking that tight little pussy?”

Your knees were bucking. You needed him more than you’d ever needed anything before in your life. “Please,” you cried. “Please, please…” 

The demon silenced you with a kiss that made you feel so light, you almost tipped over. He caught you in his arms and carried you to your bedroom. 

When you were finished, Haechan fell heaving at your side and groaned, “You’re always so goddamn tight.”

You giggled. “You love me.” 

Like you had said some forbidden word, Haechan switched on a dime and gave you a fair warning. “That’s the snag, baby girl. I can’t love you.”

That you knew, but it stung to hear aloud. You were by no means in love with the demon you'd only fucked on two occasions, but hell, he seemed like the best option. There was a bit of venom in your tone when you responded, “But you fuck me.”

“Yes. Because that’s what I do. I have sex with you needy little humans and drain you to death of your energy. Then the next one comes along and the cycle repeats. I can’t love you because you’re going to die some day, babe. Even sooner the longer you mess around with me.” 

You blinked. He was a hell of a lot more forthright than you expected. Haechan was going to fuck you within an inch of your life. Literally. 

That was how the cycle began. Haechan informed you of a simpler way to summon him and he began to visit you more often, stealing your nights away. You never mentioned him to anyone. If Haechan didn’t kill you in time, Ten would undoubtedly burn you alive. 

You loved spending nights with Haechan, and over time, those moments together bled into days and mornings. More often than not, you would talk the day away, discussing everything under the sun and moon. 

Six years ago. Those events culminated in this later two-part dilemma you’d brought upon yourself. 

Weeks turned into months. You were growing weaker. The venom was slowly killing you, contaminating your blood far beyond human reclaim. 

Additionally, everything the two of you had said about loving each other had gone terribly south. The more you got to know Haechan, the deeper you fell. And watching you fall drastically ill under his influence tore an unfamiliar feeling from his cold heart - fear. Losing you cooled his already icy blood. 

Haechan heaved a breath, trying to remain calm. The two of you knew that this would happened, but goddamn, he would have never predicted that he of all people would fall in love. It was almost laughable. “I can immortalize you, but there’s a catch.”

You eyed him expectantly. “Like what?” 

“You’ll watch the people you love die,” Haechan said morosely. “Your entire life will fade with your mortality.”

You frowned. That was a given, but you loathed the thought of that day. No matter how far in the future it may have been. There were always immortal beings to befriend at your disposal, but the current mortal ones - your family - would pass on without you. 

But even more, you loathed the thought of them having to bury you. You would take the pain in sacrifice if it meant they never had to feel the empty ache of lost. 

“Okay.” 

Haechan shot you a look. “Okay, as in what?” 

With shaky hands, you blew out a breath and told him, “I’ll do it.” 

Haechan interlaced your fingers between his and pulled you close. The last thing he wanted was to lose you, but he also wanted you to do this completely out of your own free will. “Are you sure? This isn’t some reversible shit. No take backs.” 

“I would rather bury my family than have them bury me,” you whispered fiercely. It was all you had the strength to do. “I made this mess, now I have to fix it. I can’t let them be miserable over a stupid mistake I made. I won’t.” 

Instead of recoiling from your slight outburst, Haechan held you even firmer. It was a sensitive spot for the both of you. There were available alternatives, none long-term. This was by far your safest option. 

Death was not an option. 

“If this is what you want,” Haechan said, like he was giving you one final chance to reconsider your choices. But you were firm in your decision. This was the price that you had to pay. “Everything will be okay. Baby, I swear.” 

God, you wanted to believe him with everything you had, but you were terrified. For as long as you'd known him, Haechan had always been more calm and self-controlled than you ever were, but even now you could see cracks in his demeanor. He wanted to be strong for the both of you, knowing you would shatter the moment he did, but this had him rending at threat of rupture. 

Haechan lowered himself to your height to be eye-level with you and asked, “Can you get dressed?” 

You bobbed your head. You weren’t completely deprived of your vigor. Not yet, although you had been passing through the days on preservation potions and the like. They could sustain you temporarily, but not for very long. 

The demon boy you loved brought you to a secluded area in the woods, timing your errand perfectly. Before dusk was preferable. Evil creatures lurked in the wilderness, preying on vulnerable humans like you. Not all were fond of humans and vice versa.

And you were already ailing. 

There was a tiny cabin across a river, lying at its bank. According to Haechan, it was home of a wizard. 

“Your friend’s a wizard?” you had asked. 

Haechan nodded. “Basically. But Mark prefers being called a warlock. Apparently, wizard is an offensive term that’s only used in fairytales. I still call him Wiz, though.”

You gave him a tiny nod. Many if not most magical beings lived in areas isolated from humanity. There was long, unaccounted for history between the two races and you couldn’t blame them for any resentment. 

But it also presented the fair chance that he wouldn’t want to help you. 

Haechan opened the door to the cabin and you treaded behind him like he was safeguarding you. There was a man behind a cauldron that billowed with green smoke. 

You took a glance around. The cabin was dim, sunlight filtering through the blinds of a single window upstairs. Candles and lanterns burned, scattered elsewhere. The warlock spared you not a glance, engrossed in his brewing, though you noticed a crystal ball on the table, reflecting a perfect view that overlooked the bridge. 

It most likely had warned him someone was approaching. 

Haechan put on his cheesiest smile and greeted, “Sup, Wiz. Been working out lately?” 

Mark slammed on the brakes and bristled. “Hell no. Whatever you want - the answer is no.”

Your demon boyfriend frowned, walking beside his friend to give a slight nudge to his side. “C’mon, bestie. I didn’t even ask for anything.”

Mark didn’t waste a second. “I know. And every time you compliment me, it’s only because you want something.” Then, the warlock shifted his gaze and seemed to finally notice you. “Who’s the chick - new piece?” 

Haechan rubbed his neck. “Yeah, about that…”

“Haechan, hell the fuck no,” Mark interjected as soon as he put the pieces together. “You know you have to talk to Johnny about that.” 

“See, that’s the thing. Johnny will kill me. And I’m technically already dead,” Haechan joked, trying to ease the mood. 

You swallowed like you could gorge all of your burdens with one gulp. Part of you was ready to accept that death was inevitable and tinkering with your fate was deadly. As a spirit from the underworld, maybe you could meet the boy you loved again, but you’d fade into a distant memory to everyone else you loved. 

Mark removed his spectacles and massaged his temple before he sighed. “Do you love her?” 

“Yes.” It was instant. He didn’t even need to consider it. That made you smile. 

“Like, for real?” Mark pressed. Like he was in disbelief. “I can’t waste time and casting energy on a pretty girl you just want to keep around for a little longer.”

Patience slowly dimming, Haechan snapped, “When have I ever cared if they lived or died, Mark?” 

You came to clutch his arm, and Haechan softened, switching on a dime. Much to Mark’s surprise. Even he couldn’t deny that you seemed to have an effect on Haechan - a grip that no else had. 

Haechan took a deep breath. “Look, my bad. But she’s special. I don’t know how it happened, it just did. And it would be easier to do a cord-cutting spell and toss her away, but I don’t want that. I want her.” 

A strained moment of silence passed before Mark finally groaned, “Fine.”

“So?”

“So, I’ll do the spell,” Mark said stubbornly. 

It felt like a weight was lifted from your chest and you could breathe easier when those words left his mouth. You watched Haechan’s face twist with relief, and he whirled you into his arms, hauling you with a supernatural strength that made you squeal and giggle. “Fuck. I forgot you’re not yourself,” he said and placed you back on the ground. 

You shook your head and smiled. Then, Haechan turned back to Mark with open arms and smirked. “Come here.”

Mark grimaced. “Absolutely not. I’m warning you. Come any closer and I’ll get Phantom.”

“Phantom?” you repeated, blinking. 

Mark whistled, and suddenly you heard a low caw fill the air. Then, you saw a creature fly from the single window at the speed of light and finally come to a rest at Mark’s shoulder. 

It was a raven. 

“My familiar,” Mark explained proudly. “Every warlock - and witchtress - has one.” 

Ignoring the way the raven - Phantom - was staring down your soul, you gave a quick nod and asked, “So, we’re really okay?”

“Yes. I’ll work on a spell for you as soon as possible,” Mark replied.

Haechan smiled and swept you into a kiss, then Phantom immediately began to caw as if she was trying to wake the dead. 

Haechan snickered and put his arms between you both. She was very prone to attacking. “Ladies, ladies. No need to fight. There’s enough Haechan to go around.” 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. But you were happy. You still had Haechan, and you always would. Nothing would come between you. Death or Phantom. 

Five years ago. 

Now, you were alive and well. And not only you, but someone else. 

After hours on your feet, you had never been more relieved to sit down. Ten eventually came to accompany you, having a good laugh at the weariness prominent on your face at your expense. 

“Tired?” he asked. 

“Try exhausted. I’m ready to drop,” you drawled. 

Ten laughed, then shook his head and smiled faintly. “Tell me how it’s been exactly four years and I still can’t believe I’m a godfather?” 

“Please,” you chortled. “They’re growing up so fast. I can’t keep up.” 

You had discovered the answer to a previous thought. Demons could get humans pregnant. As it turned out, you also had to confess to Ten that you’d been sleeping with Haechan for longer than he'd thought. After all, the evidence had been growing in your belly for nine months. 

Not one child, but two. 

Ten gave you a tiny nudge. “Haechan really did a number on you.” 

Through the corner of your eye, you could see him approaching and joked, “Speak of the devil.”

Haechan plopped down beside you, head in your lap, and said, “I’ve never had to work for anything in my life before those two.” 

You and Ten giggled. “Get off me, you big baby,” you said lightheartedly. “Who has them?” 

“Your mother,” Haechan replied, not budging like a boulder. 

Or so he thought. You were both caught off guard when your two four-year-old twins eagerly came running after you, refusing to give their mommy and daddy a break. 

Ten came to the rescue and leapt up, exclaiming, “Who wants cake?” 

As expected, your two tiny twins turned around as soon as they came, shouting, “Me!” Gratefully, you mouthed, “thank you” to Ten, who led the little army away to dessert. 

Haechan climbed into the seat beside you, and said, “We made this.”

“We did,” you replied, beaming. “And I love every part of it. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Me neither,” Haechan said, pressing a kiss to your lips. Now that the coast was clear, a mischievous smile crept onto his lips. “So, I was thinking that once we put the kids to bed, we could have our own little party upstairs.”

God, that sounded like heaven to you right now. “Say no more.”

Haechan snickered and lifted you into his lap. You rested your head against his lap comfortably. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too,” you said, a smile tugging your lips.

Those three words summed up everything. There was so much you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him that you always wanted a family with him, that you wouldn’t have it any other way. That you knew in your heart that this was the way it was meant to be. But you settled for, I love you. And you settled because he already knew. 

“As much as we fuck, we should have expected twins.” 

Those words snapped you out of your train of thoughts and you stood to your feet. “Save it. We have a birthday party to celebrate.”

Haechan followed you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Yes, ma’am. Mind if we go hit the dance floor in celebration?”

“Not at all,” you told him. 

And it was easily the most magical moment of your life being twirled around in Haechan’s arms, the rest of your little family soon coming to join you both.

[sinner-as-saint]

good girl

Stucky x Reader (uni au) 

Run-through: You come home all sad and upset after a horrible date, and your two best friends cheer you up in the best way ever. 

Themes: virgin!reader, dom!stucky, smut, fluff, slight angst, loss of virginity, praise kink, steve x bucky (hehe) 

a/n: i’ve been MIA i know, but uni’s a bitch sometimes. Anyway, I love you guys so much!! 

You wiped your tears away as quickly as possible when you heard the front door opening. 

They were here. Steve and Bucky, your best friends. Also roommates. Also the only people who could make such a terrible evening better. 

Wiping your tears was useless because the moment they both walked into the living room and their soft eyes settled on you, you broke into silent tears again. You managed to get one brief look at them before your eyes got blurry with tears. Steve with his hat backwards and his tight t-shirt and Bucky in his usual black jacket. 

They both rushed to you on the couch immediately. Their boyish scents; cologne and aftershave and whatnot filled the air you breathed and you loved it. 

“What happened, doll?” Steve asked softly despite being surprised to see you in tears, sitting down beside you with his strong arms around you like a safe cocoon. 

Bucky sat on the other side, sandwiching you between their muscular bodies, as he said, “We thought you’d be out all night. Did something happen with the guy?” His tone went from being calm to now alert. “Did he hurt you?” Bucky asked, knowing he wouldn’t hesitate to go find the guy and punch him in the face. Repeatedly. If he did hurt you. 

You sniffled, their combined body heat grounding you like nothing else could. You leaned back a little, their shoulders brushing against yours. “He didn’t do anything bad. But…” You trailed off. 

“But what?” Steve asked, getting ready to take whatever action he needed to take. You felt him tense up against you as you leaned into his embrace a little more. 

Bucky placed his warm hand on your exposed knee, his touch comforting and familiar. Only then did you realise you hadn’t changed yet. You were still in the little red dress from the date. “Come on doll,” Bucky said softly, “Tell us what happened.” 

You sniffled. “So,” You began with a shaky voice, and Bucky immediately began gently rubbing your knee as if encouraging you to speak. You sent him a thankful look and continued, “The date was going well, I think. I was having fun, and so was he.” You sniffled. “And then we began talking about… stuff.” 

They both froze, understanding. Then quickly got over it. Steve spoke first. “Did he… I mean, were you, uh, uncomfortable?” 

“No,” You responded quickly, “I was fine, in fact, I could see us going back to his place after dinner, you know?” You missed the look the boys shared as you kept talking, “And then… and then I had to ask him how he’d feel, um, being with an inexperienced partner.” You squirmed in place, sudding finding your fingernails very interesting. 

“Then what happened?” Bucky asked, taking your hands in his large one so you’d stop wringing them. His voice was so soft, and calm. Yet he was anything but. 

You sighed, “He said that would be stupid. He said, how could a grown woman be inexperienced. Then he asked if I had ever…,” You sighed again. Squirming again. “And when I said no, his whole face fell. Like all he wanted was what happened after. Like this whole dinner didn’t matter anymore. Like all I was good for was-,” 

Steve cut you off, “Hey, hey, hey,” He reached up to cup your face. “Forget about him, okay? He’s not even worth you crying over him. He’s an asshole. Forget about it.” He whispered, wiping your tears away. 

“I’m not crying because of a stupid boy.” You stated. “I’m crying because of how I feel. It’s.. it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. “Come here, doll.” With your back to his warm chest, you relaxed into his embrace. “Want me and Steve to go beat him up for you? Hmm?” He asked, playfully nuzzling your neck. 

You were ticklish so you let out a little laugh. “No,” You said. 

“And it’s not embarrassing,” Steve argued. “Alright?” He reached out and touched your cheek gently. “Now forget about him.” 

“I have. He was silly anyway.” You said, pouting a little. “His favourite ice cream is mint and chocolate.” 

The boys chuckled. “It’s kind of embarrassing that you went out with someone who likes toothpaste flavoured ice cream, honestly.” Bucky said. 

You laughed along with them and realised that this was all you needed. You wiped your final tears away and began thinking. And said, “He was kind of right though, wasn’t he?” 

They both frowned. “What do you mean?” Bucky asked. 

You said, “I mean, uni’s ending in about a year. I can’t still be a virgin. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to lose it, I do. I truly do. But I have trouble trusting people, you know? And honestly, that’s the only thing preventing me from, uh, having sex.” Your face felt hot. But you added, “Even though I really want to.” 

Something shifted in the air then. All three of you became suddenly aware of your proximity. Of your back against Bucky’s warm chest and your legs sprawled across Steve’s lap. Of how Bucky had been casually rubbing up and down your arm while Steve mindlessly caressed your exposed thigh. 

Over the years, how many times have you all been in this exact position? Countless, you’d say. All the movie nights. All the drunk nights. Parties. After parties. But none of those nights ever felt this… intimate. 

You looked up and found Steve with a heated look in his hooded eyes. Bucky was already breathing differently. And you… your heart was pounding. But the boys didn’t stop touching you. And you didn’t want them to stop. 

You shut your eyes for a moment. Every sense of yours heightened. The fabric of your dress was suddenly restricting. Their touch was driving you insane. Their scent was as well. You could taste the wild desire in the warm air. You’d never wanted anything more than you wanted the two of them in that moment. You couldn’t be bothered about the outside world right now. The date, the stupid boy, the past few hours you’d spent crying… nothing mattered anymore. 

This was almost heavenly. 

Bucky was the first one to get out of whatever trance you were all in. He cleared his throat and you opened your eyes immediately to find Steve much closer than he was earlier. Bucky said, “You know you can tell us to stop anytime, doll.” 

“I know.” You whispered, unable to focus on anything other than his body heat, or Steve’s eyes on you. “I know.” You repeated. 

Steve then asked, “Do you want us to stop?” His voice was different. Deeper. 

“No.” You whispered. 

They both moved instantly once the word left your mouth. Bucky dipped his mouth down to your neck while Steve leaned in to kiss your face. You couldn’t help but gasp at the feeling of both of their mouths on your warm skin. You’d been kissed before, but never like this. 

They kissed you like they needed the taste of your skin more than air. 

Steve’s hand slid up your thigh at the same time as Bucky’s hand slid under the neckline of your dress. Steve caressed your inner thighs while Bucky toyed with your breast. You were nothing but a writhing, whimpering mess in between their muscular bodies. 

Bucky breathed near your ear and you let out a soft moan, which made Steve freeze. Bucky chuckled and whispered into your ear, “Are you okay with this, baby?” He kissed the skin around your ear, “Hmm? Does this feel good?” 

You couldn’t answer him because you were busy whimpering as Steve kissed the corner of your mouth. He chuckled as well. 

“Is this okay? Or do you want more, doll?” He teased, as his fingers gently rubbed you through your thin underwear. 

You whined, accidentally grinding against his hand which made you whine even louder. Bucky swore under his breath as he watched you. “More,” You begged, “More please.” 

Steve smirked, pushing your underwear to the side before touching you properly. You whimpered even louder. Your own touch never felt that good. Behind you, you could feel Bucky undoing the zip at the back of your dress before sliding the thin straps down your arms. 

“Wanna touch you,” He breathed into your ear again. Your dress bunched around your middle as Bucky hands reached around to touch and play with your breasts. “Fuck,” He swore, “You’re so warm, baby.” 

Steve carefully slid one finger inside you, his eyes watching you intently and gauging your reaction the whole time. “Look at you,” He mumbled, maybe more so to himself, “Is this okay, doll? Does it hurt?” He asked. 

You looked up at him, and shook your head. “No. I want more, please.” 

Steve gave you a mischievous smile and said, “I’ve got you, doll. Don’t you worry about anything, you hear me?” When you nodded he smiled and said, “That’s a good girl. Now just relax, and feel good for me. Okay?” 

Before you could ask what he meant, Steve pulled your underwear down, parted your legs and settled in between them, his mouth inches away from you. 

“Trust me?” He asked. 

You nodded, and then he held your stare as he pressed his soft mouth to your dripping folds. You gasped when you felt his tongue lick up and down your slit. You threw your head back, resting it on Bucky shoulders while Steve ate you out like he had all the time in the world. 

Bucky kissed his way up your neck and finally placed his mouth on top of yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth, making you moan and gasp louder. He pulled away and smirked down at you. 

“Are you being shy, baby?” Bucky asked. You shook your head, then let out a loud whimper as Steve teased a sensitive spot. “Then look at him. Come on, look at him.” Bucky made sure you looked down at Steve, and how diligently he ate you out. “Take his hat off, play with his hair. Show him how you like it. Guide his mouth where you want him.” Bucky whispered into your ear and as though under a spell, you did everything he told you to. 

You pushed Steve’s hat off and slid your fingers in his hair, making him growl as he looked up at you. You gasped at the intensity and the heat in his eyes. 

“Go on,” Bucky urged, like he was a little demon sitting on your shoulder, luring you to sin. “Grab him by his hair and move his mouth wherever you want it.” But seeing that you were hesitating, shy maybe, Bucky placed his hand on top of yours, sliding his fingers into Steve’s hair as well before moving his mouth to where he wanted. Right over your throbbing clit. 

Bucky chuckled when you moaned out loud. 

“See?” Bucky said, kissing the shell of your ear, “He’ll do anything. He’ll put that mouth wherever you want him to.” Bucky teased both you, and Steve. The latter looked up and glared at Bucky. 

Steve pulled away briefly and smirked at Bucky, “Don’t fucking act like you’re the one in control here.” He sounded mean, but in a playful way. 

Behind you, Bucky scoffed and tightened his grip on Steve’s hair and said, “Shut up and go back to eating like a good boy, Steve.” 

That tone got you thinking… had Steve and Bucky ever…? You always thought they were just close friends. Even though sometimes they shared looks that could possibly mean other things. Could it be that-

Steve’s tongue stopped you from completing that thought. You whined again, grinding against his tongue gently as his hand moved from your thigh to your hips, then your waist… then disappeared behind your lower back. You wondered what he was doing back there but then… Bucky let out a delicious groan and you realised that Steve was palming him through his pants. 

And that only made you feel even hotter. You focused on Bucky gasps and growls as Steve’s tongue made you come in no time. “Fuck,” Steve swore when he pulled away from you, licking his lips. “You taste amazing, doll.” 

You didn’t have it in you to be embarrassed anymore. So you grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his lips gave you a high like no other. You deepened the kiss when he slid your dress down your legs and threw it down somewhere. You could hear Bucky taking his clothes off as well, and you began undoing Steve’s jeans. 

When Steve pulled away from your kiss to get rid of his shirt, Bucky took the chance to pull you back onto his lap. “It’s my turn with you now. I want to hear you moan for me too.” He said, looking down at your chest and unclipped your bra before throwing that somewhere as well. His mouth immediately wrapped around your nipple, making you cry out loud.

Steve inched closer and wrapped his mouth around the other breast. Both of their mouths teased, and bit, and sucked, and pulled until you were a moaning mess, cradling both of their heads and keeping them as close to you as possible. 

One of them caressed your inner thigh before parting your folds. You didn’t care who it was, you just wanted it. You felt a finger sliding into you, then sliding back out, and then back in until you were riding it. Another finger was added, and soon you were coming undone all over again. 

“Fuck, she’s sensitive.” Bucky mumbled before biting down on your nipple and making your cry out even more. 

Steve groaned in agreement, pulling away to kiss his way up to your mouth. “Come here,” He whispered, kissing you so deeply that you almost cried actual tears. “You’re such a good girl for us, doll. Look at you, such a sweet, pretty girl.” 

You whined against his lips and playfully bit down on it. 

Steve chuckled then said, “You want some cock in you? Huh? You got a taste and now you’re desperate for more, aren’t you?” 

You pulled away, giving Steve your best puppy dog eyes. Meanwhile Bucky groaned as he mindlessly kissed all over your chest. “You two are killing me.” 

Steve looked down at him, smirking as he said, “Oh look.” He cupped Bucky’s chin and traced his lips with his thumb, tugging on Bucky’s lower lip as he said, “Another one who’s desperate to come.” 

Bucky glared at him playfully. “Fuck off, Steve.” 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to ask, “Um, do you two…?” 

Steve shrugged, “Sometimes.” 

Bucky scoffed, “More than sometimes.” 

You nodded, “Oh. I didn’t know.” 

Bucky grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, “Now you do.” He said. “In fact, you’re more than welcome to join us anytime you want.” 

Steve leaned closer and said, “We’ve actually been waiting on it. That someday you’ll figure it out and… be curious. But you’re such an innocent, good little girl, you never even noticed.” 

You glared at him, teasingly. “I’m not that innocent. I just thought you guys were really, really good friends.” 

Which was stupid really. Because how could you have missed it? The stares they gave each other were nowhere near friendly, they almost undressed each other with their eyes. 

They both chuckled at that. And for a moment there, you all forgot you were even nearly naked and on top of each other. That’s how comfortable the boys made you feel. 

Bucky seemed to have picked up on what you were thinking, and said, “We can stop here, baby. We don’t have to do anything else.” 

Steve nodded, reaching out to touch your face. “Yeah, we’ll get dressed again and watch a movie or something. We can do this another time, no pressure.” 

You smiled at them. Both wearing only their boxers. You didn’t miss the erections, you just chose not to comment on it. “I know.” You said, then gave them a coy smile as you said, “But I want to keep going. I… I want this with you. Both of you.” 

“You sure? This isn’t just because of that dickhead, right?” Bucky asked. Steve awaited your answer just as eagerly as Bucky did. 

You shifted on Bucky's lap so you faced both of them properly. “No, this is what I want. And I want it with both of you.” 

Steve wasted no time in pulling you in for a kiss. When he pulled away, Bucky kissed you next. Then he pulled away and said, “I think we should head for one of the bedrooms. More space.” 

And in a few seconds, you all found yourselves in Steve’s bedroom as it was closest to the living room. Bucky tackled you down onto the bed and kissed you passionately. You were lost in the kiss, the only thing you could focus on was his chain dangling from his neck and ticking your chest, and the sound of Steve rummaging through drawers in the background. 

And this was heaven. 

Bucky’s hands roamed all over your bare body, his mouth eagerly tasting yours like he couldn’t get enough. “Fuck baby!” He growled against your mouth. “How dare you keep yourself from me this whole time, hmm?” 

You moaned when he began teasing your clit, his fingers finding their way in between your legs. “Bucky,” You whined, “Please make me come again.” 

He chuckled against your lips, then pulled away and stood up. He looked down at you, all bare and open for him. He almost took you right there and then. And oh all the things he would do to you… but not yet. He had to share with Steve of course. Later, he’d have you all to himself, sometime when Steve’s at the gym or out running errands. Later, he’d take his time and ravish you like you deserve to be. 

Bucky gave you a playful tap on the thigh as he looked up and found Steve equally as enchanted at the sight of you naked on his bed. 

Steve was just as lost in heated thoughts as Bucky was. Fuck, how many night had he and Bucky been in this room, desperately trying to be quiet as they made each other come. How many nights had they talked about how fucking amazing it would be to have you here with them? Later, he’d tell you all about those nights as he made you come over and over again. As for right now, he was gonna make sure your first time is as good as can be. Both he and Bucky would ensure that. 

“Come here, doll.” Steve spoke up from the other side of the bed. And you excitedly crawled over to him and knelt right in front of him not far from the edge of the bed. You felt the bed dip behind you and you knew Bucky was mere inches away from your back. 

Steve caressed your cheek lovingly, and said, “We don’t know what you like in bed, doll. You wanna tell us?” 

Oh. “I, well I don’t know yet. I’ve never-,” 

Steve rolled his head and bent down a little, getting eye to eye with you. “We all know you’re not that innocent, doll. Sure you haven’t had sex yet. But I’ve seen the smutty books on your shelf. I know what you read. I just don’t know what you like.” He said it so casually like he hadn’t just read you to filth. You tried your hardest not to hide your face. 

“Steve,” You whined, embarrassed. “Don’t say it like that.” 

Bucky laughed from behind you, then inched closer until you were basically in his lap again, both of you kneeling on the bed in front of Steve. “Oh don’t be embarrassed.” He said, “I Googled some of the books on your shelf once and showed it to Steve. We were both fucking baffled.” 

You hid your face in the palm of your hands this time, and said, “I hate you two.” Your voice sounded muffled, but they heard it. And laughed even harder. 

“I mean who knew innocent virgins read so much filth, huh?” Steve teased you even more as you kept hiding your face from both of them. 

“Stop.” You groaned. Trying your hardest not to focus on how his words made you want to do things you’d never done before. 

But like true best friends, they kept going. Bucky added, “I didn’t even know all those positions and kinks existed.” This made Steve laugh even harder, and you tried to run away from them but Bucky grabbed you by the waist and yanked you back into bed before you could and secured your wrists in his hand so you couldn’t hide. “Don’t be shy, say it. What do you like?” 

Steve leaned in closer and whispered, “Let’s make it easier for you, okay? How about you tell me what you think about when you touch yourself at night? Huh? What gets you going? What makes you want to shove your pretty fingers into your panties and rub yourself until you come?” 

You squirmed against Bucky, suddenly feeling his hard on against your back. You gasped, but quickly recovered as you said, to both of them, “You’re not allowed anywhere near my book shelf anymore.” 

Steve smirked, knowing damn well you couldn’t stop him if he wanted. Bucky just chuckled and nuzzled your neck, “You’re like a feisty dragon,” Bucky said, “Guarding her hoard of smutty books.” 

The boys chuckled as you whined and said, “You guys are so mean today.” 

Steve caved first, “Aww baby girl, come here.” He cooed, pulling you in for a kiss. And somehow, Bucky joined too. When Steve pulled away, Bucky’s mouth replaced his. And when he pulled away too, you opened your eyes to find them kissing each other. Ferociously. Passionately. 

Like they were lost in the taste of each other. Like they forgot the world around them existed. And you watched, entranced. Soft lips meeting in a wild dance, eager hands exploring each warm body. They made out in front of you and you could feel the tingly feeling in between your legs. 

You must’ve whined in a desperate manner because they pulled away, shared one last heated look, and then turned to smirk at you. “Impatient, are you?” Steve asked. 

Bucky played along, “That’s not what good girls do.” 

You shivered. Remaining quiet. 

Steve added, “Yeah. Good girls wait. Patiently.” 

Bucky said, mischievously, “They don’t whine and pout when they don’t get attention. They wait. That’s why they’re good girls. But you know what you’re being right now?” 

You were in the middle of the bed, but you felt cornered. So deliciously trapped. 

Steve inched closer and whispered, “You’re being a very, very bad and disobedient girl.” 

“And you know what happens to bad girls, baby?” Bucky asked, reaching for something but you didn’t dare look what he grabbed. 

“They get punished. And they get taught lessons on how to be patient.” Steve replied. 

You were under a spell. And you never wanted to break out of it. Within a minute or two you were handcuffed to Steve’s metal bed post. Not with one of those fake fluffy handcuffs either, these were sturdy. 

Both of your hands cuffed behind your back, and the cold metal post pressing against your spine, you remained in the corner of the large bed while the boys moved to the middle. As if they were about to give you a nice little show. 

And oh did they give you a show. 

Slow hands, and deep breaths. Quiet moans, and wet kisses. You watched how Steve and Bucky leisurely kissed, and touched and stroked each other. Hands reaching for each other’s cock, followed by grunts and moans, and groans of pleasure. You couldn’t move much, but you desperately needed some friction down there so you kept squirming in place as you watched them. 

Steve took his time kissing up and down Bucky’s neck while the latter tugged on his hair and brought his wandering mouth over to his, and the both sighed and groaned in relief momentarily. The erections in their black boxers were too prominent to ignore now. 

“Fuck…” You whined, “Please, please I’ll be good. I promise.” 

Aside from heated stares and a chuckle, you got nothing. “Good girls wait,” Steve said. 

“And they don’t whine.” Bucky added. 

You cried out, “This is torture.” 

Careless scoffs filled the room. “You wanna know what torture is?” Steve asked in that condescending tone you couldn’t hate. “Come on Buck, let’s give our doll a real show.” 

Bucky frowned, “I gave you head the last time. It’s your turn.” He sassed, ready to push down the waistband of his underwear. 

Steve grabbed him by the back of his head and growled, “Don’t forget who’s in charge here.” 

Bucky smirked, “Yeah, yeah. Well, don’t forget who’s older. Now come on, put your mouth to good use.” 

Steve looked down and Bucky had already had his cock out. Steve couldn’t argue any longer. Not when even you whimpered at the sight of Bucky’s hard, smooth erection. Steve bent down and immediately wrapped his mouth around Bucky, like he had done so many times before. 

“Yes,” Bucky hissed, “That’s it. Oh fuck, use your tongue.. Yeah, yeah that’s it.” Another loud groan left his lips, “Fuck.” 

You were a mess. A whimpering, squirming, wet mess. Watching Steve move his head up and down Bucky’s cock. Bucky’s moans only made you more inpatient. You watched as Steve pulled his cock out and began stroking himself at the same pace that he sucked Bucky. Watching his hand move up and down himself made you burn with desire. 

You were so busy watching them, watching their limbs move. Watching Steve’s throat as he took more and more of Bucky into his mouth, watching Bucky’s fingers tug on Steve’s hair and messing it up even more. Watching Bucky tip his head back and gasp and grunt in pleasure, watching Steve stroke himself until he began to leak… you didn’t realise that the two of them were watching you. 

Steve carefully pulled away from Bucky’s cock, his lips more pink and wet than usual. “See?” He taunted. “See how nicely you sat there, waiting?” 

You whined quietly. Murmuring, “Please.” 

“Oh fuck, baby. Come here.” Bucky rushed to you and undid the handcuffs before pulling you closer. You ended up being between both of them. Their bodies now warmer and damp. “Was that hard to watch? Hmm?” Bucky cooed. “Did you get all wet?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he reached down and inspected for himself. The devilish smirk he gave Steve meant that he was happy with what he found. 

“I think you’re ready for more now, doll.” Steve whispered, kissing your neck and then down to your shoulders. 

You realised that you’d have to make a choice on who gets to take you first. But you wanted them together. However, this was also your first time and you didn’t want it to hurt. But you wanted both of them… 

The boys picked up on what you were thinking, and Steve said, “Hey, don’t think too much.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, wrapping his arms around your from behind. 

In front of you, Bucky inched closer and took your chin in his hand. “It’s okay baby, I’ll let Steve have you the first time.” He said, “I’ll have you all to myself later. It’s just… I trust Steve to be a bit more gentle with you right now, okay?” 

You nodded. 

Steve smiled against your skin, kissing your cheek as he said, “Yeah, Bucky can be an animal. And we don’t want you to get hurt.” He clarified. Then smirked and said, “Some other day we’ll take you together. At the same time, okay?” 

You smiled and nodded again. 

The boys moved immediately. Steve grabbed a condom, while Bucky kissed you deeply as he repositioned you like how he wanted. And you found yourself on your knees still, but bent forward, ass up in the air towards Steve and your mouth really close to Bucky’s cock. You didn’t mind this at all. 

“You sure you’ll be okay? You wanna give it a try first?” Bucky asked, pointing at his cock which was all hard and tall in front of you. 

You held his stare as you sheepishly leaned forward and gave it an experimental lick. Then another. And when Bucky moaned, looking down at you with hooded, lust-drunk eyes, you dared to wrap your mouth around his tip. Just like you’d seen Steve do earlier. 

“Fuck…” Bucky groaned. “That’s it, baby. You’re such a good girl.” His fingers slid into your hair, and he didn’t rush you or move your head. “Your mouth feels so good, baby.” He just held you there and let you find your pace. 

You knew Steve was watching from behind you, and the way he was caressing your body meant that he liked what he saw. “You ready, doll?” He asked, fingers dipping into your folds to smear your wetness around. 

You pulled away from Bucky for a moment, looked over your shoulder and said, “Yes.” 

That was all Steve needed. And as you turned back to Bucky,  lowered your mouth and teased his tip with your tongue, Steve gently pushed inside of you. The feeling was foreign but in no way did it hurt like you expected it to. Perhaps because you were well lubricated and so fucking turned on. 

You heard both boys groaning as Steve slid all the way inside you, making you move together, your mouth on Bucky, and Steve sliding in and out of you slowly. You felt the stretch as Steve pulled out and pushed back in, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, you wanted more of it. 

Bucky’s moans got more frequent as you took him further into your mouth. Steve’s hand reached around and toyed with your sensitive clit as he gradually sped up into you, still being gentle and slow with you. He grunted as your walls wrapped around him perfectly. 

“Does that feel good? Hmm, baby?” Bucky cooed, tugging on your hair gently. You looked up at him and tried to nod, your walls clenching around Steve as he groaned and sped up into you. “You look so pretty, taking both of our cocks nicely like this. So fucking beautiful.” 

Your body moved in between the two men so perfectly, it almost didn’t feel like this was your first time. The horrible date and the silly boy seemed like a lifetime ago. This was all you wanted. This was where you wanted to be, forever if you could. 

“Oh fuck, you’re so fucking tight, doll.” Steve whispered under his breath, fucking you slightly faster. The momentum causing you to take more and more of Bucky into your mouth, and making him moan louder as well. 

Bucky held your head gently as you took him deeper into your mouth. “That’s it, you’re doing so good, baby.” He said as you took him in until he hit the back of your throat. “Doesn’t this feel good? Being stuffed like that? Hmm?” 

You just cried out in pleasure, with your mouth full. The boys chuckled. 

“Fuck, you take it so well, doll.” Steve pounded into you from behind, he groaned and grunted as your warmth wrapped around him perfectly. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” He growled as he fucked you nice and deep. 

You knew you wouldn’t last too long. The pent up tension, all the teasing, and their damn words. It was all too much, too good. 

“Are you gonna come, doll?” Steve asked, hitting a spot which made your eyes roll. “Huh? Are you gonna come all over me?” 

You kept moaning around Bucky’s cock as Steve drove you wild with his cock buried deep inside you and his fingers toying with your clit. You felt the familiar warmth washing over you, accompanied by an unfamiliar pressure in between your legs… 

“Go on, baby. Come for us.” Bucky urged. “I’m so close… fuck,” He groaned with his head tipped back and the sight of his delicious neck was enough to make you clench around Steve. 

“Fuck!” The latter hissed. 

The following few seconds were filled with careless moans and grunts. Steve gave you his all as gently as you could, but even then you could tell he was holding back just because he didn’t want to hurt you. You felt the pressure build and build and build… 

Then Bucky came first, all over your tongue, swearing under breath and gasping as he watched you swallow all of him. Steve sped up into you, chasing his orgasm as well, groaning when he felt your walls clench around him, squeezing him as he fucked you. 

“Come.” He said, growling, “Come all over my cock, doll.” He swore again, “Be a good girl and come for us.” 

So you did. Bucky pulled out of your mouth and looked down at you. You gasped and whined as Steve pounded relentlessly into you from behind until you came all over him. Bucky smirked as he watched you, how your face morphed into a frown of pleasure as you moaned a little louder. 

“Such a good girl,” He cooed, running his fingers over your scalp. “You did so well, baby.” 

“Oh fuck…” Steve growled. Finally slowing down, but remained buried inside you for a while longer. 

Your body tingled as you remained there, between them. A little sore, worn out, but you felt cared for as one of them gathered you into their arms and laid you down properly in bed. Soon, you were snuggled from both sides by your favourite boys. 

“Are you okay, doll?” Steve asked, repeatedly kissing your face. “I’m sorry if I-,” 

You cut him off by saying, “Oh you were perfect, Steve. Thank you.” You said. Then you turned to Bucky and repeated, “And thank you.” 

Bucky smiled and leaned in to kiss your temple. “Take a nap, okay? When you wake up, it’s my turn.” He gave you a wink and snuggled closer to you. 

You began to drift off when you heard Steve tell Bucky, “And then my turn again after that.” 

Bucky scoffed, “You had your turn, dumbass.” 

“Fuck you,” Steve argued, “Yeah I did, but…” 

You didn’t hear the rest of it as you fell asleep. You were warm, and safe, and satiated. In the arms of two of your favourite people in the world. Nothing else mattered.

[kinkywaffle-chan]

Oh my, you slut

You had one job, drink 2l and read all text I even wrote you a good speech. It's not my problem it was 2 hours long... Your task was to read it loud, make sure everyone heard you and just simply thank all of your teachers, classmates and students. You had to cheer everyone up, make them proud of themselves and list their accomplishments. Damn, you are so useless.

[daenysx]

hi hello!! i've just found your blog and i adore it and your writing! <3 do you mind if i request remus lupin or james potter (whichever you prefer) with a reader who has excruciating period cramps? thank you sm!! :)

hi gorgeous, thank you for being so nice!! i once wrote a period fic with james, this is the remus version, i hope you like them both <3333

remus lupin x fem!reader

remus makes you another cup of hot tea, but he's not sure if you can drink it.

it breaks his heart, the way you try to lay down on your bed but being unable to relax. your entire body is tense, he knows the effects of your period by heart now. he also knows it's useless to try to cheer you up when you can't even feel your legs properly. he only wants you to get over the first three days which are always the hardest to get through.

"hi, pretty girl." he comes next to you with your tea. "i made you some tea."

"thank you, remus." you say, trying to sit up. remus helps you. "thanks."

"here you go." he holds the cup for you. it's too hot. "i hope this helps a bit."

you take a sip. your boyfriend is lovely with his wide eyes, his eagerness to do anything to make you feel better. the tea is nice. it would be nicer if your cramps weren't so bad.

"oh!" you suddenly hold your belly. the pain is always shocking, catches you unexpectedly. remus gets the cup from your hands. he knows it's for the best to stay calm, you're already hurting, he doesn't need to be another thing for you to worry about.

"it's okay, dove." he tries. "can i hold you?"

you nod. "please." he opens his arms to get you. putting your head on his shoulder, you give another painful sound coming deep from your throat. remus keeps his hands on your back.

"it's okay, it'll pass." he whispers against your head with a huge hand rubbing your back. "do you wanna go to the bathroom?"

you shake your hand, blinking tears back. "no. maybe later. i don't think i can stand up."

"tell me when you want to go, okay? i'll help you."

your hand finds remus's, he squeezes your fingers. he kisses your hair the way you like, too many kisses all at once. he's so warm, you lean against his heat to feel him. "i'm okay." you say. he nods, looking at you to see if you mean it.

"can we cuddle?" he asks, his eyes are pleading. "if you're okay to lie down?"

"okay." you say. "i just- my legs hurt, i don't feel too comfortable."

remus is a quick thinker. he likes to think he knows what he's doing when it comes to holding you, there are too many positions you like but when you are on your period, he needs to be the one to take the weight off you. he lies down, gets you in his arms as you put your leg on his legs. remus puts your head on his chest, his long arms securely wrapped around your shoulders.

"good?" he asks. you nod, and he smiles. "i'm gonna rub your back, okay? tell me if anything hurts, dove."

"it's nice." you say, because it really is. his fingers know your body so well, he also knows where to put pressure and where to be kind. you force yourself to relax on him. sleep usually distracts you, it can work right now. you make quiet noises which guide remus to see if he's doing okay. he rubs your poor muscles until his hand goes numb.

"my tea got cold." you say, sadly.

"i can always make you a new one." remus says with a huge kiss on your forehead. "don't worry about it, sweetheart."

you hum quietly, press a little kiss on his clothed chest. remus's fingers go through your hair now, he braids a little piece to help you relax, you still don't know how he does it with one hand. the next few minutes are quiet but neither of you are uncomfortable because of the silence. you like remus's peaceful aura, he brings relief to your painful times, he keeps his cool. you are tired but never tired enough to not kiss his neck and show him how much you adore him.

another cramp hits you. it's not as painful as the earlier but you feel it deeper in your muscles because you lay down. you snuggle closer to remus, trying to bury yourself to his warmth until it passes.

remus cups your cheek. "you're doing so good." he says. "i know it hurts too much but try to focus on me, yeah? maybe you'll feel better if you sleep."

you feel so desperate and so needy for his affirmation, it hurts. "can you hold me tighter? until i fall asleep?"

"of course, baby." he coos. "if you feel worse when you wake up, i can get you a painkiller."

you nod against his chest. remus wraps his arms tighter around you until you feel nothing but him. you try to hug him back, it's a bit unsuccessful attempt but he supports your waist to keep you on himself. his hand on your waist is a nice weight, better than any heating pad you use. you take a deep breath of his familiar scent.

"it'll pass." he says before you close your eyes. "i'll hold you as long as you have me."

he's being too sweet, too precious. you would blush and hide yourself to his chest but your brain is focused on the pain, sadly. you still give remus a nice kiss, though. he keeps his lips on your head until your breathing evens out.

[mimimarvelingmarvel]

time bound part three

pairing: worst wolverine!logan howlett x f!mutant!reader

Part Three - Masterlist

summary: Y/n’s life takes a dramatic turn when the Time Variance Authority intervenes, pulling her from a critical moment in her timeline. The TVA sends her to the void where she eventually meets with Deadpool and a very familiar face. With Deadpool's universe in the balance, alongside his reluctant would-be pal, Wolverine, and the enigmatic time-bending mutant known as the Veil, the trio must complete the mission and save Deadpool’s world from an existential threat.

overall warnings: 18+, Fem!Reader, AFAB Reader, Use of Y/N, Her X-Men name is Veil, She/her pronouns, Swearing, Angst, Heavy Violence, Character Death, Deadpool (he’s his own warning), Hurt, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, TVA

word count: 2k

My legs feel numb, something cold and metallic digging into my back—chains, pinching at my skin. I try to shift, but the restraints hold me tight. There’s a warmth surrounding me, and I glance up to see Johnny's face, our noses inches apart. “Welcome back, Pumpkin!” Deadpool’s voice calls out from behind, dripping with that annoying cheerfulness that makes me groan and drop my head.

Johnny twists us around, the chains binding the two of us together keeping us suspended above the ground. Now, I’m facing Logan and Deadpool. Deadpool’s staring at me, and while it’s hard to tell through the mask, the tilt of his head makes me think he’s smiling.

He turns to Logan and asks, “How long was I asleep?”

Logan’s response is gruff, “Not all of you was asleep.”

I cringe. “That’s so—"

“Hot?” Deadpool interrupts, his tone mockingly hopeful.

“I was going to say disgusting.”

Deadpool pouts, his voice taking on a playful edge. “I sense a little closeted anger there.”

I squint at him, feeling the absurd need to defend myself. “I’m pretty comfortable with my sexuality, thank you very much.”

“Don’t clench those cheeks of yours too tight, Pumpkin. I see the way you look at Wolvie here.” He tilts his head towards Logan, who finally meets my gaze.

I quickly look away, shame creeping in. He must hate me for what I did. Or for what I couldn’t do.

Deadpool starts rummaging around, searching for something. “Don’t bother. They’re very thorough,” Johnny tells him, a slight edge to his voice.

Logan cuts in, his tone demanding, “You know where we are, start talking.”

Johnny’s voice is calm but serious. “You’re in The Void. Think of it as purgatory. Reed called it a metaphysical junkyard where anything useless goes before it gets annihilated forever, and where the TVA sends people that don’t play nice with the rest of the multiverse.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “Like you?”

Johnny nods. “And you. Or her.”

Logan’s voice hardens. “What does the annihilating?”

“Alioth,” Johnny answers, his voice low.

Deadpool’s eyes widen behind his mask. “Alioth is in this thing? From Loki, season 1, episode 5? You know she wrote a fanfic about Loki. I’m talking to you, reader.” He suddenly turns to face the empty space, as if he’s breaking the fourth wall again. 

I squint at him, my voice dripping with annoyance. “What are you doing?”

Deadpool gives me that familiar little head tilt, and I can almost see the grin beneath his mask. “Just keeping things meta, Pumpkin.”

Johnny continues, “Everyone here is on the run from Alioth. Most don’t make it. But there’s a resistance. Other people like us that manage to survive. We’re hiding out in the borderlands, trying to find a way to fuck outta here.”

Logan nods, his voice resolute. “Then that’s where we go.”

Deadpool's eyes light up with excitement. “We? Us? A team? The answer is yes. Shake on it.”

Logan unsheathes his claws, the metal gleaming menacingly.

“Fuck! You nicked it,” Deadpool yelps, pulling his hand back quickly. “Just got the tip with your little steak knife.”

Logan ignores him, turning back to Johnny. “These others can help us get back to the TVA. They can fix things.”

Johnny lets out a dark laugh, and I nudge him, trying to keep him focused.

Logan’s eyes narrow. “Something funny, Bub?”

Johnny’s expression grows serious. “She might have something to say about that.”

Logan’s brow furrows in confusion. “Who’s she?”

Johnny's voice lowers ominously. “In The Void, you’re either food for Alioth, or you work for her.”

The words hang heavy in the air as we approach the gates—or rather, the colossal, decaying corpse of Ant-Man. His gigantic hands, now reduced to skeletal remains, are locked together to form the entrance. As they creak open, a cold shiver runs down my spine, a foreboding sense of doom settling over me. Johnny’s body flares with heat, a stark contrast to the icy dread filling my veins, betraying his own spike of anxiety.

We’re unceremoniously dumped out of the cage, rolling onto the hard, unforgiving ground of the courtyard. The atmosphere here is bleak, desolate—a wasteland filled with the lost and the damned. Variants and mutants alike mill about, their eyes hollow, their spirits crushed by the relentless despair of this place.

From behind, I feel Pyro’s glare burn into my back. I turn slightly, catching sight of Toad, still nursing his wound. With a spiteful smirk, I stick my tongue out at him, my eyes glinting with a momentary spark of defiance.

The air around us shimmers, rippling with unseen energy as Cassandra’s presence draws near. In my sleep, I had only glimpses of her, vague and haunting. But now, as her silhouette emerges, a pang of grief stabs at my heart—she reminds me too much of Charles.

Deadpool breaks the tension with his usual irreverence. “Oh, you must be this year’s Juggernaut.”

“Please be quiet,” I mutter, but my voice lacks conviction.

“Keep your voices down,” Juggernaut rumbles. “She don’t like the chatter.”

Logan casts a sidelong glance at Deadpool. “She’s gonna love you.”

Deadpool, never one to heed warnings, continues, “Is it Charles? Hey, hey, Chuck, it’s us!”

Logan and I exchange a grim look. “That’s not Charles,” we say in unison.

Cassandra steps from her wheelchair, moving with a graceful menace as the sunlight catches her bald head. The air around her seems to crackle with latent power.

“Ah, shit. Oh, ableism great. That’s not gonna go over well with the woke mob,” Deadpool quips, earning a scowl from Logan.

Cassandra’s eyes settle on Logan first, cold and calculating. “A Wolverine. I wondered when I’d get one of you.” Then she turns to me, her gaze piercing through my defenses. “You’re one of Xavier’s.”

Deadpool, ever the disruptor, cuts in. “You know him, you know Chuck?”

Cassandra’s smile is thin, almost serpentine. “Oh, I knew him. We shared a womb. Tried to strangle the sly little fellow with my umbilical cord.”

“Amen,” Deadpool responds, almost gleeful. “I’ve never loved roommates. Mine’s blind, except she could see cocaine for some reason.” He turns to Logan, searching for an ally. “You wanna chime in, Your Majesty? I’m dying here.”

“Who are you?” Logan growls, his patience wearing thin.

“Charles Xavier’s twin,” Cassandra says, her voice dripping with venom. “Cassandra Nova.”

Deadpool’s eyes widen in mock horror. “Oh, shit. Is it anal birth?”

Cassandra’s expression remains unreadable as she assesses us, her tone almost playful. “You two are cute. I have a good feeling about this.”

Her gaze sharpens as she shifts back to Johnny, a predatory gleam in her eye. “And I’ve been trying to catch this little firefly for years, haven’t I, Johnny? You picked the wrong time to make new friends.” She spares me a brief, dismissive glance. “I’ll get to you later,” she adds, her voice like ice. “—pumpkin.”

A shiver runs through me at the nickname, the way it slithers off her tongue far more menacingly than it ever did from Deadpool.

Deadpool, undeterred, presses on. “Oh, Johnny told us all about you.”

Logan’s warning is low and dangerous. “Maybe shut up now.”

“Yeah, maybe don’t,” I echo, my nerves fraying.

But Deadpool barrels ahead. “We were just talking here. Yeah, Johnny told us you’re a psychotic, megalomaniacal asshole. His words, not mine. Hell-bent on domination and pain.”

Cassandra’s eyes narrow. “You said all that about me?”

Johnny stammers, panic clear in his voice. “No, no! How do you— I didn’t say anything!”

“Sticks and stones, Johnny!” Deadpool laughs, his tone mocking. “Don’t let her intimidate you. Like you said in the convoy. This finger-licking, dead inside, pixie slab of third-rate dime store nut milk can eat your delicious cinnamon ring and kick rocks all the way to bald-hell.”

Johnny looks horrified. “I have never said any of those words in my entire life!”

My muscles tense, knowing Deadpool is pushing too far. “That’s enough, Deadpool,” I warn, preparing to act if necessary.

But Deadpool continues, seemingly oblivious. “Ah! The modesty! People think I’m a shit-talker, but this guy, next level.”

“What? This- I- wait- I don’t even know what half of that means!” Johnny protests, his confusion growing.

In a flash, I manage to blip Johnny back a few hours, replacing him with a decoy just as Cassandra’s wrath descends. She tears into the decoy with brutal efficiency, ripping its skin clean off. I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing Johnny is safe, even if the others are none the wiser.

Deadpool gasps in mock horror. “Not my favorite Chris.”

Logan’s fury is palpable. “You stupid piece of shit, you just got him fucking killed!”

I feign distress, staring at the decoy’s lifeless form, playing my part.

“Hey, we’re all grieving!” Deadpool adds, his tone too flippant. “PS, do you know what he was doing to the budget?”

Cassandra’s voice cuts through the tension. “Alioth is hungry.”

“There’s been some kind of mistake,” Deadpool protests, his bravado faltering. “Big Yellow is a backup Anchor Being, and I’m Marvel Jesus, MJ if you’re nasty. This may be hard to hear, but there’s another British villain. He’s gonna destroy my universe, and I’m gonna stop him.”

Cassandra’s smile is chilling. “Oh, honey, you don’t really strike me as a world-saving type.” Deadpool flinches. “Did I hit a nerve?”

He tries to regain his footing. “I didn’t want it to come to this. Either you help us, or my friend here is gonna sing the entire second act of Music Man, with zero warm-up.”

Logan tries to change the subject. “Where’d you get the chair?” 

“Once in a while, I do get a Charles through here,” Cassandra muses, her voice distant, almost nostalgic. “Never mind, though. No. He didn’t care to find me.”

Deadpool rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Ah, Gen-Z and their trauma-bragging! Can’t you just stuff it down, turn it into accomplishment or cancer like the rest of us?”

Cassandra’s eyes gleam with dark amusement. “But I’m not like the rest of you. Except maybe the Wolverine. Now, we could be truly terrifying together.”

Logan sneers, his claws itching for a fight. “You’re that scary, huh?”

“The TVA certainly thought so,” Cassandra replies, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “They sent me here before I could walk. And you know, it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I love it here.”

“You live in a garbage dump,” Deadpool retorts, unimpressed.

Cassandra’s smile widens, a cold, cruel thing. “I think we both know who lives in the garbage dump. The Void is a paradise. I can wield my power here without shame. Unfortunately, I had no Charles Xavier to teach me temperance.”

Her eyes lock onto mine, sharp and predatory. I’m still coated in the thick, warm blood of Johnny’s decoy, and the sight only seems to excite her. “I told you I would get to you. I’ve been waiting to crack into that mind of yours.” She steps forward, her finger outstretched, and I stumble back, my heart pounding in my chest.

But she’s too fast, closing the distance in an instant. Her long, cold fingers seize my face, digging into my temples with a vice-like grip. The pain is excruciating, a white-hot lance that stabs through my skull as she roots around in my mind. Flashes of my past flood my vision—my dead friends, my failures, my desperate search for Logan. And then, the happier memories, from a time long gone, when Charles and Erik were younger, when hope still felt within reach.

With a sudden, brutal yank, Cassandra rips her fingers free, leaving me crumpled on the ground, gasping for breath.

I hear Logan shout something, but the words are muffled, lost in the haze of agony clouding my thoughts.

“Interesting,” Cassandra murmurs, almost to herself. “But boring. Your Charles, he protected you, made you feel safe?”

Logan’s growl is low, feral. “We’re done talking.”

“No,” Cassandra whispers, her voice a silken thread of menace. “We’re just getting started.”

Next Part

A/N: Guys, I’m on a roll and I was originally going to write this chapter as a recap but with Logan’s POV, instead, those will be added later as bonus chapters! I’ll try get a masterlist up and running.

taglist: @oscarissac2099 @somiaw

comment if you want to be added!

[pers1st]

afterglow - alexia putellas x reader

part 3 of dancing with the devil, painkillers

pairing: alexia putellas x singer!reader

warnings: mentions of OD

Keira was taken away first. Alexia noticed it as she marched across the damp pitch, a winter coat shielding her body from the cool wind, her body glistening with sweat. Barcelona had won, the way they always did, and Alexia, as the captain, had been the first to call the team into a circle afterwards, in order to listen to Jona's speech, which she knew wouldn't be long today, and thank the fans afterwards.

The chants and cheers had been relentless today. Alexia knew it was the right thing to walk towards them and spend time with them, thank them, but as she watched Lucy, who had spent the last twenty minutes on the sub bench, put her arms around Keira and softly guided her shaking ex-girlfriend away from the pitch, tears shining in her own eyes, Alexia's feet stopped moving. Her gaze followed the women until it couldn't, and they disappeared into the tunnel.

If Lucy cried, something bad had likely happened. If she told Keira, it likely involved you. Alexia's heart was racing at the realization, and she managed to take a total of three rushed steps before a body pulled her shoulders back. Fighting the force slightly as she wriggled in what she knew was her best friend's grip, Alexia's worry soon turned into anger.

"¡Suélta me!" (Let me go), Alexia whispered through clenched teeth, struggling to free her arms of Mapi's grip and follow Lucy and Keira to wherever they had disappeared to.

"No", Mapi sighed, and suddenly appeared on Alexia's side, only letting go of the shoulder closest to her. Ingrid suddenly stepped towards Alexia's other side. It seemed the woman had appeared out of thin air, but your ex-girlfriend didn't have the capacity to wonder where she'd come from, or why the two were escorting her into the tunnel and towards the nearest office. Ingrid peaked through the door and sighed a snip of relief at the realization that the room was empty.

"¿Que pasa?", (What happened?) Alexia asked, her voice softer this time as she realized that something had most definitely happened. And it most definitely involved you.

"It's about Y/N", Ingrid started, leading Alexia to sit in the chair across from the desk before turning the chair around softly, crouching down in front of Alexia. The captain couldn't see the darkness in Ingrid's eyes, or the way her shoulders slumped, or the fact that this whole setup meant very, very bad news.

"Did she call you? Did you hear from her? What did she- what did she say?", Alexia asked, hope suddenly glooming in her. Maybe you had reached out to Ingrid, maybe Keira had reached out to Ingrid, maybe you wanted her back, maybe you'd allow her back into your life, maybe the two of you-

"No, Ale", Mapi sighed, a soft touching finding her shoulder gently. Alexia looked up at the woman who stood in front of her, and only then did she see the tears in her best friend's eyes. Mapi didn't cry often. She was like Lucy in that sense.

"Ale, she-"

Ingrid struggled to find the words to describe. Alexia struggled to find the air to breathe.

"She overdosed. She's in the hospital- it's-", before Ingrid could finish her sentence, Alexia swatted her hand away from her knee.

"No. No, no, no-", she breathed, suddenly the room closing in on her. The walls came flying closer and she could do nothing but allow Ingrid and Mapi to stare at her. Tears spilled from her eyes quicker than she could stop them, but in all honesty, even trying would've been useless. The woman sitting in front of Mapi and Ingrid wasn't the stern faced, dedicated and composed captain of Barcelona and Spain anymore, the woman in front of them was a crying, broken woman. She hid her face in her hands to shield herself at least a little bit, but it was no use.

You had overdosed. You took drugs?! Had this started before the breakup, had she done this to you? Had you done this on purpose? Had you been broken enough to want to-

Had she done this to you?

She thought back to the livestream just a few hours ago. It seemed like an eternity now. It was clear as day now - the way you had wobbled on stage, the way you had been so devoid of emotion, the way everything had just seemed off with you - you had been high. Since when were you doing drugs?! How had she missed this?

It took Ingrid's hand to reach her knee again for the woman to realize she couldn't breathe anymore.

"Ale, please- you have to-"

Alexia couldn't hear the rest of her words, because the sob that left her mouth was one loud enough to, it seemed to her, shake the whole stadium.

Overdosed. Overdosed. Overdosed.

The sobs kept wrecking her frame, even as Ingrid gripped her knee harder in an attempt to steady her captain.

"Alexia", Mapi pleaded, her words barely above a whisper. Had Alexia not been so encapsulated in her own thoughts, in her own pain, she might've realized how odd it was for Mapi to get, she might've realized how close she was to having a panic attack.

But she didn't. She couldn't hear Ingrid begging for her to take a breath, couldn't hear the soothing words the both of them kept repeating over and over again.

All she could hear was your stupid voice and all the stupid songs you used to sing for her. Would she ever hear that voice again?

It was a known phenomenon that the first thing you forgot about a deceased person was their voice. Alexia hadn't heard your voice in over two weeks, at least not in real life - would she ever hear it again? Would she forget it, if you died?

The thought gripped every cell of her body, squeezing and squeezing until the air dispersed from her lungs, until the bile rose on her throat, until she became so lightheaded she had to remove her hand from her face to hold onto Ingrid's woman and steady herself because of how close she felt to passing out.

It was memories of you that spun her head. It was your laugh that she couldn't seem to drown out anymore, it was the way you'd said "I'm leaving, I'm so sorry", it was that night you'd showed up at her flat, ready for the tour of the city she had promised you over Instagram messages, it was that first time you'd ended up in her bed and every time afterwards, it was every hug you had given her when the pressure had been too much, it was every phone call, every facetime, it was you. Everything was you. Every last bit of her thought about you.

If it hadn't been for Ingrid and Mapi, she might've stayed in that ugly and bare office forever. After all, why should she move? With everything she'd been told, she'd never move on anyway. Why would she go back to the city you had fallen in love with, why should she go back to the apartment you'd shared with her, why should she go back to the bed you'd spent so many nights in?

Because Mapi and Ingrid said so, and because Alexia was too exhausted to complain. It was Ingrid who walked her back to the changing room once Mapi had checked it was empty, it was Ingrid who'd guided her into the shower gently, setting out fresh clothes and everything else Alexia needed.

In the end, it was Ingrid who took her clothes off at the realization that her teammate wouldn't move, even if Alexia tried. She'd asked for permission, and Alexia had nodded absentmindedly, something that would've been unimaginable just hours ago. Alexia never let anyone see her in a vulnerable state of any kind, but she was too tired. Too exhausted. That wasn't what made her cry in the shower though.

It was the memories of you.

The way Ingrid took off her clothes was entirely different to the way you had. There was nothing loving (not in that way, at least), about it. Ingrid didn't kiss every inch of her exposed skin, Ingrid didn't giggle the way you did as she removed Alexia's shirt, Ingrid didn't peck Alexia's lips at every chance she got, but the fact that the woman removing Alexia's clothes wasn't you was enough to send silent tears down her cheeks.

The captain didn't even have enough energy to sob for you. The realization only multiplied the tears.

In the end, Alexia didn't know how she had made it back to Barcelona, back to Ingrid and Mapi's spare room, and, in the end, back into the bed you'd once laid in.

Perhaps it was the statement your team had issued mere days after the overdose, stating that you were okay physically, stating that you would begin rehab soon, stating that you would take some private time to deal with all of the past events.

Perhaps it was the fact that you disappeared off the face of the earth for a year. Not a single post, or story to your socials. Not a single song. Not a single show. Not a single message. It was foolish to say that she managed to forget about you, because - let's be honest, it was you she was thinking about every morning she woke up, every match that she would glance into the family section and not find you next to her mother, every medal she didn't get to wear as you made love to her. She could never forget about you. And she hoped that you wouldn't forget about her either.

Still, shock couldn't describe the emotion she felt as a hand tapped her shoulder gently as she stood at the FIFA's best awards, conversing gently with Lucy.

"Hey, strangers."

She heard the words before she could turn around to see you, but she hadn't forgotten your voice. She could never forget your voice.

"Hey, you", Lucy smiled with her teeth as she pulled your body into a hug, so tight that your eyes almost came out of their sockets. Alexia smiled softly as you frowned in Lucy's arms, chuckling at your expressions.

This was the last place she had expected you to be. It was the last place anyone had expected you to be minus Keira, Lucy and their families. All of them were here tonight, and it made Alexia a little anxious to know you'd been here throughout the whole ceremony and she hadn't even noticed.

When Lucy let you go, you looked at Alexia with a slightly unsure expression. You had known she'd be here, but as Keira was finally nominated for the award for the first time, and not just the best XI, you had promised her you'd be there, even if it meant seeing Alexia again.

In all honesty, seeing Alexia again was part of the reason you'd come here, though you'd never admit it. Reaching out to her would've been foolish after everything you'd put her through, clenching complete radio silence for over a year. This was a nice occasion - one where she wouldn't think you'd come just to see her, but could still converse with you (hopefully), without the attention being on the two of you.

Before you could think about mumbling an excuse to leave the two women at Alexia's lack of a reaction to your presence, the woman pulled you into a hug. A hug that was even tighter as Lucy's, which you hadn't thought to be possible. But you didn't fight Alexia's arms around you. You could never fight her touch, could never resist the familiar smell of her perfume and the way her hair covered your nose as you buried your face in the crane of her neck.

"Lo siento", you whispered into her, just enough for her to hear and everyone else to miss, though Lucy did smirk at seeing how tightly the two of you were embraced.

"Not here", Alexia mumbled back and pulled herself out of your arms, smiling softly. Though you were disappointed, you couldn't help the smile of your own. Not here meant somewhere else. You'd get to talk to Alexia again. You'd get to explain, get to apologize. It was what you needed, whether she forgave you or not.

The time came a few hours later at the after party. You had, at this point, escaped all of the photographers, but apparently someone had caught you on the livestream and your phone was blowing up as your manager texted you, asking if you were okay. You were sat at a table with Keira and her family, the woman's head laying on your shoulder softly.

"Cat's out the bag", you smiled slightly as you placed the device back onto the table, not missing how Keira lifted her head to look at you. Your best friend was slightly tipsy, and very tired at this point. The fact that the Barcelona federation had allowed them to stay at the after party had been celebrated before the actual party had even begun, while you had caught up with Lucy's brother, in one of the backrooms where Keira and the rest had gotten ready. By the point she had joined you again, with Aitana on her heels and the rest of the Barcelona women following shortly after, she had caught you in another bone crushing hug, whining about how happy she was you were there.

"Are you okay with it?", she asked softly, analyzing your facial expression as best as she could in her state. You took a sip of your water. It was actual water.

"Yeah. Tomorrow's gonna get even better."

Your album was scheduled to drop tomorrow. No promo, no announcements, no nothing. Just music. Just the most raw and honest music you'd ever written.

"Nervous?", Keira asked, just when Aitana came towards her again. You shook your head.

"¡Ven a bailar conmigo!", the woman shrieked, just as tipsy as Keira was, gripping her hands and pulling her up.

"Go", you smiled. "I'll be fine."

And fine, you were. You loved Keira's parents almost as much as you loved your own, and talking to them was easy, especially when all they could do was gloat about their daughter. However, there was another conversation on your mind. One that wouldn't be as easy. As if she had read your mind, a body appeared behind you, her hands laying softly on your shoulders. Alexia had always been touchy. She had argued that every Spaniard was this way, but when you'd asked whether it was just a Spanish thing and she was touchy with everyone, she had shut up about it quickly, accepting every teasing comment you made about her clinginess.

"Can I steal her for a second?", Alexia asked with her silly Spanish accent, the one that you loved so much. When you looked up at her, her green eyes shone a little.

"Of course, dear. Go on, we'll wait right here!", Keira's mother beamed at the two of you, but her quick words and accent were too much for Alexia to understand, so you nodded up at her instead, quickly lifting yourself from your seat.

Alexia's hand found yours quickly, not caring about all of the footballers, reporters and people in general who were eyeing the movement curiously, as she gently led you through the crowd and towards the hall you'd met Keira in earlier.

She pulled you into a corridor, the warmth of her hand transcending into your stomach as she nudged the second door open. There wasn't much in the room - a vanity, a clothing rack which held various suits and dresses, and an armchair.

Alexia glanced through the room quietly, and you knew she was scanning for a place for the two of you to sit on comfortably as you talked. You knew this because you wondered the same thing. The armchair was spacious, but it was made for one person only. The vanity had one seat, but one seat only.

This time, it was you who held onto her hand, gently pulling her to the floor with you. You lay on your back next to your ex-girlfriend in a similar position, glancing at the ceiling.

"Quiero mirarte." (I want to look at you)

Her voice was barely above a whisper but you heard it anyways, turning to your side to face Alexia, who once again mirrored your actions. With your head cradled on your arm, you glanced at her. Taking every feature of her in, recognizing every dimple, every freckle, the birthmark above her lips. She didn't look older, despite the year the two of you had spent apart.

"Lo siento, Alexia", you whispered.

She nodded. "You should be."

"I'm sorry for just- disappearing. I really am."

"Why didn't you just to tell me?", her voice sounded so fragile, so small, that you suck in a breath.

"Why did you not trust me? I could've-"

"Stop, Ale. Please, let me explain", you pleaded, taking another deep breath as she nodded softly.

"I should've told you, yes. But it wouldn't have done anything for either of us. I was under so much pressure with the tour and everything, and I just-", you paused for a second.

"It wouldn't have changed anything. I wouldn't have let you be there for me, I couldn't. I wasn't ready to be sober, Ale. I'm sad that it took an overdose to realize it, but the good thing is I realized it. And I'm sorry, for everything I put you through. I'm really sorry, please, forgive me."

You didn't think you would beg, but one look at Alexia was enough to completely spin her mind. You would've done everything for her to forgive you. Begging was one of the things on an endless list for her to say it was okay.

The next thing she said, however, had been completely unimaginable for you.

"Yo también lo siento." (I'm sorry too.)

What could she possibly be sorry for?

You had left her without an explanation, after years of loving her, after she had given you reason after reason to spend the rest of your life with her. Then you had almost killed yourself. Then you had completely vanished for a year. And she was apologizing?!

"No, Ale-"

"Sí. I'm sorry. I should've been there, should've realized, I should've reached out and-"

"No." This time, your words held more firmity and less shock. This time, she remained silent, her eyebrows furrowing.

"You couldn't have known, Alexia. I didn't let you be there. I didn't let you reach out. There was nothing you could've done. You did enough- every day for the past year I thought of you and how to make up for this- how to get you to forgive me."

"I have already forgiven you, amor."

You sucked in a breath at the nickname. Then-

"Come home with me."

You couldn't help the shocked laugh that escaped your lips, and you couldn't miss how it made her smile again- those dimples would be the death of you one day.

"You should ask me on a date first."

"Disparates, we didn't do that last time either", (Nonsense) she chuckled, reminding you of the first time you'd ended up in her bed, the first day you'd met her.

"I don't want to do it the way we did last time."

Alexia nodded.

"Okay. But you come home with me. Because I know that you wrote songs about this, and I want you to sing them for me", she smiled, reaching her hand out for you as she turned onto her back, softly pulling you towards her. Your head found her chest immediately as your breaths synchronized the way they always had. In all honesty, sometimes, during the past year, you'd wondered if your lungs worked at a similar pace the way they always had when you'd lay like this.

"I don't have a guitar at your place", you mumbled as Alexia began playing with your hair.

"Sí, you do. You forgot one. The one you bought me to learn", she whispered into her hand that was running through strands of your blonde.

"Did you?"

Your head shook as Alexia laughed, holding you even tighter.

"I tried, but I was- fallido", (unsuccessful) she breathed.

"La reina? Fallido? Increíble", (unbelievable) you answered, chuckling softly. You remembered the first day you'd tried Alexia to play the guitar like it was yesterday, and the awful combination of what you couldn't describe as chords that had echoed through the room and had left both of your expressions frowning.

You had bought her her own, mostly because you were scared she'd somehow break yours.

You would go back to Barcelona with Alexia tomorrow. You would go with her anywhere. You would do anything she asked you to.

"We should probably go back, Keira will be looking for me", you sighed, feeling more content than you had in a long time here, in this shabby room, laying in Alexia's arms with her hands in your hair.

"Sí."

You waited for her to get up, to push you away softly and take your hand in hers again.

"Five more minutes", she hummed. You couldn't resist Alexia. You could never resist Alexia.

notes: final paaaaart! what do you think? this was a pain to write tbh but i'm happy with the way it turned out! there'll be probably be some more blurbs about the two of them just because i rly like this "series"

also, thank you so so much for all of the support! genuinely incredible

[tinytennisskirt]

The Motions

Summary: Reader and Art go through the motions of love, a wedding, the honeymoon, and pregnancy.

Warnings: smut! AU where Tashi doesn’t exist, tipsy sex, unprotected sex, oral f!receiving, mentions of calories and weight gain, pregnancy, mentions of pregnant sex.

You were picking berries in Art’s grandma’s garden, putting them in his grandma’s basket lined with a pink checkered cloth that she held in her wrinkled hands. You were talking about something out of earshot, but he could hear his grandma’s laughter ring out through the backyard, hearty and loud. You were smiling, the evening sun hitting you just right. Art watched from the gazebo by the pool, his mom who took care of the house talking to him about something he wasn’t hearing.

He loved seeing his grandma come back to visit her home from the retirement home, but he loved seeing you make her laugh even more. Art leaned onto his hand, mouth just a little open watching you cheers over a blackberry and eat it the same time as his grandma. He knew it then, he loved you so much, he knew he had to marry you.

And he did a year later. Married at twenty-five. A young couple, married in his grandma’s garden with only friends and family around. You looked perfect, like an angel in white. Art would never forget how much he smiled that day, his cheeks hurting.

The after party was perfect as well. String lights over the walls, delicious food, and good music. You in a smaller white dress that enabled you to dance with him all night long. Bell sleeves you insisted on because of some Anne Hathaway musical that you were obsessed with. You only ever stopped to thank family for coming and giggle about the wedding with your best friend. Art took some time to talk to Patrick, but no matter what anyone, even Patrick said to him, his eyes were glued on his perfect new bride.

You looked at him from where you were and waved, holding up your ring finger and blowing him a kiss off of it. He loved you more than anything.

A few more drinks from the open bar that had been set up by the shed in the garden and you and Art were laughing, pictures being snapped every now and then. You danced with Art’s grandmother before she headed back to the retirement home, pretending like you hadn’t had too many margaritas and Art enjoyed the attempt, surprised at how well it went.

You said goodbyes to your guests and soon it was just you, Art, Patrick and your best friend and maid of honour. You enjoyed what was left of the bottled wine and talked, but as soon as they left, Art had you against the wall.

You had the house to yourself, you’d leave for your honeymoon tomorrow evening and you two stumbled drunk on love and wine into the house, your back against the wall, the pictures falling off the wall- thank god there was no glass in the frame.

Kissing passionately, his hands all over your body, your arms around his neck, hands in his hair. He cradled your head as you both rolled against the wall, trying to make it to the bed but it was so useless. The table against the wall in the hallway was going to have to do. Art shoved the tennis trophy off of it along with the basket of keys and the small crocheted flower pots his grandma collected. He picked you up and set you down on the surface and in seconds you were kissing again, his hands reaching around the back to unzip the dress but when it wouldn’t come down, other measures had to be taken.

You and Art both hiked your dress up, him desperately kissing down your neck, one hand sliding down over your waist to rest on your now-bare hip. It was the other hand that pulled down the white lingerie you wore under the dress, something meant to be seen in better lighting, on a better surface, but was now on the floor.

Perfect warm kisses down your collarbone, up your neck, behind your ear as your hands fumbled with pulling off his tie, unbuttoning the top of his white dress shirt, moaning quietly as he used his teeth on your earlobe. You gave up on the buttons halfway and started on the button of his dress pants, undoing them, undoing the zipper. He gripped your hip with the tips of his fingers, sliding his hands over the smooth skin of your thigh, reaching down between them, pushing fingers into you as you moaned into his ear. Your legs wrapped around him in his boxers as he pumped his fingers in and out at the pace he knew you loved.

You moaned out loudly into the empty of the house and it set his body on fire. Neither of you could take it, you tugged on the rim of his boxers and he obliged, taking them off in seconds, stepping out and away and coming to reconnect with your lips hungrily, perfectly, fingers continuing to fuck you just right. You needed him more than anything.

“Art, please,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Mhm?” He grinned, lifting you just slightly to reposition you. Your hand fell to his dick, gripping it and slowly moving your hand up and down. He groaned audibly and it fuelled your own flame. His fingers left you and gripped your hips again as he pulled you to the edge of the table, the perfect height to push himself into you. You both moaned loudly, feeling him fill you. “Fuck, I love you.” He groaned, the thousandth ‘I love you’ of the night, but the sexiest. You grinned as he began to thrust him and out, breathing hard and gripping his hair.

“I love-mmm- I love you too,” you hummed, tossing your head back as he fucked you as you sat on the table, your legs wrapping around his waist. He took the time to kiss your neck again, your collarbone, biting your ear again. “Fuck!” You moaned out.

Art only fucked you harder with every moan, fuelling him, keeping him going. That and all the love- so much love. It wasn’t even your honeymoon yet.

He finished and you both were left sweating by this table in the hallway. You wrapped your arms around his neck, foreheads resting against each other’s. You shared a smile and Art grinned his signature grin, kissing your nose. You cupped his face, kissing him gently on the lips.

You slept like babies that night.

When you got off the plane in Dominican Republic, you raised your hands over your head and kissed Art hard on the lips. He loved seeing you excited. You practically told every stranger who spoke to you that you were on your honeymoon, showing off the wedding ring that was of course, a travel dupe, but just as beautiful. Your real rings were at home on the kitchen table.

The house you rented was beautiful, by the water, full of sun, and very private.

“This is perfect,” you sighed happily, flopping down on the large patio couch that was just outside on the deck under the shade of an umbrellas.

“Not as perfect-“ he sat next to you, “-as my wife.” He grinned. You sat up just to kiss him.

“That was cheesy,” you told him. “But I love it. And you.” You kissed him again. You headed into town that day, a grocery trip. The locals were lovely and very nice. There were vendors selling fruits, vegetables, kids playing at the playground.

You and Art bought yourselves some fruit and sat on a bench at the park, sharing it bite for bite. You watched the children play, smiling as they ran in circles around tree trunks. Art watched your expression as a woman with a baby in a wrap passed you both, the baby the cutest you both had ever seen. Chubby-cheeked, small fingers, curious eyes that looked over you both as the baby passed. Art noted how your hand subconsciously drifted to place itself flat over your stomach. He was feeling it too, if he was honest. Something about being married, something about you looking so empty in your tank top and skirt.

“Cute baby,” you said, snapping back to reality when you realized Art was watching you with a smile.

You smiled back and Art twisted his mouth to the side, knowingly. “Cute baby?” He teased.

“Something about being married, I don’t knowww,” you said sheepishly. It was exactly what he was thinking… He leaned over and kissed you on the forehead. There was a wordless agreement made and the anticipation began.

Art cooked dinner while you worked on dessert, him making perfect seafood kababs over the provided barbecue in nothing but his swim trunks and some stupid apron you made him wear. You sat, admiring him from the kitchen inside, thinking about how he looked so husband. You had no other descriptors. He was so husband.

He waved at you through the window, staring at the bikini you were wearing as you baked your chocolate lava cake. You waved back, wiggling your fingers knowingly.

You ate together at the glass table right by the beach in the shade of the palms. The food was perfect and the dessert even better as the sun began to set. A whole day of enjoying being married and Art could not focus as you wiped your bottom lip of the lava cake, sucking the extra off your fingers, looking at him through your eyelashes. He watched, a little dumbstruck, mouth a little open. He could have had you on the table right then and there, but he knew he’d get lucky later…

You poured yourself a bath as you both digested, filling it with rose petals and sweet smelling candles. Art himself took a shower in the outdoor shower to clean himself from the water he’d been swimming in while he waited, then he cleaned up from dinner as his hair dried.

He was washing dishes when you stepped out from the bathroom. Hair perfect, eyelashes long, lips perfectly pouted and your body wrapped in delicate lace that barely covered you at all. a very small slip skirt to top it all off. Art almost dropped the dish he held but he was lucky to have the restraint to take off the dishwashing gloves as you used your pointer finger to signal him to come closer, slipping through the door of your bedroom and shutting the door behind you. He followed, opening it to you laying on the bed for him in wait.

He grinned as he jumped onto the bed, going to kiss you- but you dodged him. You giggled, looking at his surprise. He narrowed his eyes at you, going to kiss you again but you moved your head to the side, giggling more. “Uh-uh,” you teased. Art’s eyes glazed over with lust fuelled by love, looking over your body in this lingerie. You leaned forward and he thought you’d kiss him but you dodged him again. Art grinned his lopsided grin and grabbed your face, kissing you excitedly. You both laughed into it but the laugh was gone when he pressed his body to yours. He was hard before he even left the sink and he was glad there was so little to remove. You moaned as his hand slid down your neck, over your chest, gently squeezing through the thin fabric of your lingerie.

Oh, Art was driven crazy by the way you looked in it. The lights in the room were dim but enough to get a good look at you and if he weren’t so busy kissing you, lips against lips, hungry, driven, needed, he would be staring. He was painfully hard, pressing against you as he kissed down your neck, down your chest, moving your lingerie aside to kiss your chest, sending goosebumps to every part of your body and causing heat to flare between your thighs. He knew just what to do.

His fingers gently went between the slip of your skirt and your waist, lips following kissing between lace and skin and pulling it down. It revealed the bodysuit’s end, crotchless, perfect, but Art had a preference. He unsnapped the edges, the lace curling over your stomach as he kissed lower and lower. You pulled the lingerie off, not even minding that its purpose was quick, but effective.

Art’s lips grazed your thighs, planting the smallest of kisses down the inside of them, gently pushing your legs up into a bent position. You could have moaned just at the action of it, gentle but with intent.

He kissed up the thigh and over the hip again, coming to kiss your stomach. It was soft skin, pretty, but he imagined how it would feel to kiss in a few months after he was done with you. He kissed just below your belly button, then down, down, down, until he kissed gently over your clit and it send another wave of goosebumps, much stronger. He was gentle, so gentle it was almost unbearable.

Your hands slid into the roots of his hair. ��Please,” you begged, breathless over the lack of touch, or rather the lack of pressure that you so needed.

“What was that?” Art said quietly from between your thighs, hovering over the places you needed his mouth, his tongue. He planted another kiss over your skin, not enough.

“Please,” you said, just a little louder. “I need it, I need you.”

“Need me to what?” He asked, eyes peeking up from where you laid. You pushed his head back down, but he didn’t you push him into any action. He was enjoying teasing you back, knowing it was so much worse than a dodged kiss. He could feel how in need you were as he kissed just a little lower, over the most sensitive parts. You breathed a heavy sigh, pulling his hair just gently but trying to push his mouth against you. “Say it.”

You flushed, “I need you-“ another heavy breath left your lungs, “-Please, Art.”

Honestly he didn’t even want you to take another second, he himself couldn’t help it. In a heartbeat his tongue was exactly where you needed it. Your back immediately arched at the contact and Art himself moaned as you did, the taste of you more delicious than any meal either one of you could ever cook.

His tongue licked over your clit, pressing hard against eliciting a second moan from you, licking down over you, his tongue sliding and pushing itself inside, just to lick up again. Your hands pulled his hair and you squeezed his head with your thighs gently, feeling all of it, every flick of his tongue, every time he circled your clit, every time his tongue pushed back inside, moving up and down quickly.

He pressed against the bed, but it wasn’t good enough, he was too excited to fuck his wife. He hummed against your cunt, sending vibrations down his tongue. You moaned louder, “Fuck, Art!” You moaned out. “Fuck, fuck- mmm.” You couldn’t help the noises he caused. He loved every second of it, every little noise, every tiny whine. Art would have continued until you came on his tongue, but your voice was the instruction he could never deny. “Fuck me, please.” You moaned.

He couldn’t waste a second after that ask, moving from between your legs just as you asked, wiping his mouth on his shirt before pulling it off and kissing you again. Hot, needy, passionate. Your hands travelled to his shorts, pulling them down, him following through by kicking them off. There was no waiting, there was no falter in his arousal, he plunged into you almost immediately, starting rough.

You both moaned loudly in unison as he began thrusting in and out. His excited crooked grin fucked right off by the way you tightened around him. His body over yours, chest to chest, dick deep inside you. Your whole body felt warm, fuzzy, and you were dazed, high on him. He lifted your leg over his shoulder, pushing deeper, you feeling it in your lower stomach as he fucked you. “You feel so good,” he said. He’d made love to you a million times before but this was rich with sober lust. “Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned.

Your eyes rolled back as he only went harder, faster, feeling you tighten under the pressure. He continued, more and more until, “Fuck, I’m close.” He said. “Can I?”

“Go ahead baby,” You grinned into the kiss, warmed as he continued, his thrusts getting harder, but more spaced, sloppier. You felt it hot as he finished into you, coming undone with your name on his tongue. It was loud, it was enough, it was hot and you were so full of him, even as he pulled out.

You breathed hard, feeling it when he moved out of you, kissing you a few more times before pushing up and moving right back between your thighs immediately following. He ate you out until you finished, HARD, moaning his name out desperately.

You fucked three more times that night.

The honeymoon was lovely. You came home and resumed work, Art resuming his tennis. You had both had late nights, sometimes early mornings, but slept soundly together every night, arms wrapped around one another until you woke up. Two months of a newly-wed routine with plenty of sex, plenty of kissing, and so much love in a singular household.

Art’s thing had been Chinese food lately. He’d come home from tennis with it, he’d get it on the way back from groceries and on Fridays when you both had nothing to do in the evenings and didn’t want to cook, you’d order in. It didn’t even occur to you that maybe it was too much when you when to put on your jeans and they didn’t fit. You felt the thighs were tighter as you pulled them up only to find that it was harder to button. You sucked in to button them and looked in the mirror. Maybe you’d put on some weight. You called Art into the bedroom, he walked in with his cereal and first thing he was excited to see you in just jeans and your bra.

“I have forty minutes before practice,” he said, setting the bowl down on the bedside table. You chuckled before looking back at the mirror.

You couldn’t help but smile, looking at him through it. “I have to ask you something and you have to answer it like you’re on truth serum, okay?” You said, turning to face him. He nodded, looking just a little bit concerned now at your approach. “You can’t answer as my husband or as the man who loves me, okay? Truth serum.”

“Truth serum,” he repeated, nodding. He walked over and kissed your forehead, confusion in his eyes.

You looked back in the mirror, back at him. “Havr you noticed any weight gain? On me.” You asked. You had heard about the effects of being someone’s wife but didn’t think they’d set in just yet.

Art cleared his throat, “Weight or not, you’re beautiful either way,” he said.

You smiled, but shook your head, “Not as my husband!” You giggled. “You’re sweet, though.”

He kissed you quickly, pulling you closer. “I have noticed, yes, but I don’t mind. In fact, I think I like it.” He smirked just a little. The man you loved for years could still make you blush. “I think it’s my fault. The Chinese.” He nodded.

“I was thinking that too,” you said. “It’s okay. I suppose I forgot I don’t have your metabolism and play tennis almost every day.” You chuckled. “I think I’ll lay off it for now.”

“Do you need to?” He grinned, pulling you into a kiss with intention.

“I have work in thirty,” you interrupted his kiss, though you loved it.

He grinned, “Oh, you have work.” He said back to you, kissing you again, this time with more passion. “I’ll make it quick?”

“Deal,” you agreed, pushing him back on the bed. You loved him and he loved you in any form, you were learning. That was good enough fuel for morning sex. Maybe you could burn calories bouncing for a bit…

The weight gain worsened. You gave it another three weeks, weeks that you began hitting the gym every morning of every other day, going with Art to practice, and only having Chinese once. You looked in the mirror again. Art came up behind you, kissing your shoulder, moving your hair to kiss your neck. You were undressing after work and you stood there in just your underwear. His hands slid over your waist, your hips.

“You still love me like this?” You asked him.

“Like what?” He asked, kissing your ear gently. It sent goosebumps over your skin.

“Like this,” you gestured to the mirror. “Bigger.”

He smiled against your skin, “So much.” He hummed into your ear. “You are so beautiful.”

“Promise?”

“You want me to prove it?” He asked, grinning. He moved to look at you, but you didn’t look very happy. “I’m sorry. Of course I promise. I married you, you just happen to be inside of a body. I love that too, but it doesn’t make you more or less worthy of how I feel.”

You were in love with his words. With the mouth that spoke them. With him. “But what if it gets worse.”

“There is no worse,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek, then nose, then lips, softly. “But Y/N, I don’t think it’s weight gain.” He said. He just smiled, “I have a theory.”

“What?” You asked. And it all clicked. You covered your mouth, eyes widening. “Do you think- I- why didn’t I even think about that?”

He grinned, “I think we both thought it was the Chinese.”

“It was supposed to be,” you laughed a bit breathily. “Oh my god, do you think we- oh my god.”

“I bought you two tests today,” he chuckled. You hit him in the arm. “What?”

“Move! I have to go take them!”

He laughed as you rushed in your underwear to the bathroom where he had laid them on the counter. It was a good thing you’d had a ton of iced tea at work that day. You were so cute. Art wouldn’t lie, from the moment it clicked for him, his heart hadn’t stopped racing. Part of him was worried that it wasn’t what the situation was and maybe it was something else, but he had a feeling. And so did you.

You wrapped yourself in your robes, your heart beating hard as you opened the door, Art waiting against the wall outside, arms crossed. Your hearts beat hard, nearly in unison. “I didn’t look yet, I thought we should together?” You said, the nerves apparent in your voice.

You set them down on the bedside table and sat on the edge, your eyes staying on Art’s. You could see the love in his eyes, the anticipation right along with it. You could feel it as your heart beat against your rib cage. “In three?” He said, perfect eyes meeting yours.

“I love you,” you said, trying not to giggle just because of the nerves. How did you not even think about this?

“I love you too. In three?” You both were so so scared, but so so in love. You nodded. “3…2…1,” and you both looked down at both of the tests, double-lined and confirming with a digital word,

pregnant.

You gasped, covering your mouth with one hand, the other grabbing Art’s arm. He inhaled sharply, turning to you without hesitation and kissing you hard, holding your face with both of his hands.

A baby, a baby, a baby.

“Oh my god,” he grinned between hard kisses, full kisses, perfect, excited kisses. “Oh my god.”

You kissed his cheek over and over and over, his whole face was peppered out of sheer excitement. “I’m pregnant!” You giggled. He chuckled, kissing you hard again. It was scary and new but wonderful to know it wasn’t Chinese food’s fault. It was lovely, wonderful, fulfilling. “I’m so glad I haven’t drank since the wedding.” You laughed. Art’s hands wrapped around you, holding you tight, your arms doing the same, keeping him in an embrace that he broke only to kiss your stomach the way he had on your honeymoon. He’d been waiting to do so.

And he never stopped kissing your stomach whenever he could, appreciating your body for what it was working so hard to grow. Sex got a little bit harder to achieve, but Art loved every second of it, worshipping your body for its achievements. He was great, very supportive, burying himself in books about parenting and pregnancy, buying you or making you every craving. He loved every change, every difference, how cute you looked in dresses. He cried when you ruptured the balloons to pink confetti, more excited to have a daughter than you’d ever expected. He loved you and he would love your daughter more than anything.

He was there through labour, through delivery, letting you squeeze his hand hard enough he thought you might break his bones. Even through the sweat and tears, you were the most beautiful woman in the world to him. And you were soon the most beautiful mother in the world to him when your daughter finally arrived after seven hours of labour. She was the most beautiful thing, covered in blood, but so beautiful. So tiny. So perfect.

He held his little girl in his arms when she was all clean and she smelled exactly as a baby should. She had big cheeks, a cute little nose, and he could pinpoint the features you’d given her. “She’s so beautiful,” Art said, trying not to cry. He was so in love, it was overwhelming. He passed you your baby and you held her, tired, crying. “Thank you.” He said.

You looked at him, “For her?” You pouted, your husband’s gratitude the most beautiful thing.

“For her.” He grinned, looking at his perfect daughter. “She’s absolutely perfect, you did such a good job.” He leaned down and kissed you quickly, then kissing his baby on the forehead. “I love you so much.” He said, meaning you both.

“I love you too,” you replied, kissing him again. You were so in love and here, in your arms, was the evidence