#code vein figure

[dailyfigures]

Io ; Code Vein ☆ Kotobukiya

[transmechanicus]

God tattoos are so frustrating. I have far too many ideas and not enough skin to try em all grrrrrr.

[thefigureresource]

Io [Code Vein] 1/7 scale from Kotobukiya will be re-released June 2024.

[milktian]

finally starting to go for all achievements in code vein so that means i have to play the game through again yippee

im pretty glad i was so like,,, completionist my first go around cause now i can just do a straight shot without worrying about missing anything.

the first thing im gonna do is the bad ending so i can get all the successor's blood codes, then im gonna go neutral ending + true ending again so that's all finished. after that it's gonna be a grind session ueueueue

i think im gonna keep my build and then do new builds on new save files just to keep things interesting + i know the big bonk strength build kinda wrecks most things.

i do wanna go full completetionist for base game and then maybe ill buy dlc? idk if it's worth it though

[rafesangelita]

♡ when a double date with rafe leads to him feeling a sense of familiarity + you may have revealed your biggest secret yet..

warnings: mean!rafe. enemies to ???, suggestive language, lots of cussing lol, slight angst, mild sexting, light degradation (reader and rafe just like being snarky towards each other), sexual tension, flirty banter (?), slight arguing

a/n: this is part two of this fic right here! if you’d like to be added to the taglist just comment on this post or leave me an ask <3 i do plan to write three more parts to this!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 2.9k

[1:19 AM] countryclub: we have the same area code.

you felt cold sheer panic run through your veins at the revelation, your heart beating in your ears as you kept rereading his message. you refused to believe what he said to be true. this couldn’t be happening. sharing the same area code could only mean one thing— both of you resided on the island.

sure, the island was small, but it couldn’t be that small.. right? your mind was reeling, everything that you two had talked about, the pictures that you two shared, over the last few months ran through your mind at lightning speed. tossing your phone to the side, you rested your head in your hands, trying your best to piece something, anything, together. this mystery man didn’t talk like anyone you knew, or so you thought. you chewed on your bottom lip, your chest rising and falling as you realized that you hadn’t even confirmed if you two shared the same area code. for all you know he could just be making up some lame excuse for leaving you high and dry.

yeah, that had to be it.

[1:33 AM] brattydiaries: fuck you. i don’t believe that.

[1:35 AM] brattydiaries: i don’t need you to come up with some elaborate lie in order to spare my feelings. if you weren’t serious about reaching out to me in the first place, then you shouldn’t have asked for my number.

rafe was pacing back and forth in his room, the taste of tequila from his earlier activities still lingering on his tongue. he scoffed once your messages came in, his eyes narrowing at his screen as he scratched the back of his neck. insinuating that he didn’t really want to talk to you was just flat out insane. nowadays, all he could do was imagine the way your voice would sound in his ears while he pounded you in, the thoughts and images of you taking up his headspace.

[1:38 AM] countryclub: are you fucking stupid?? i was very serious about wanting to talk to you, you live in my fucking brain.

[1:39 AM] countryclub: 252. that’s the area code for kildare island.

[1:39 AM] countryclub: and judging by the way you post your nail appointments every two weeks, along with all the sexy lil try-on hauls you did for me, i could confidently say that you’re not a pogue.

your eyes widened in horror. only someone who lived on kildare island would know about the whole ‘kooks vs. pogues’ thing. besides the confirmation with the area code, you knew he wasn’t lying. you stared blankly at the screen, having no idea what to say or even do about this situation. having these kinds of blogs and letting anyone you knew in real life find out about them was social suicide. maybe not so much for rafe, but you? you were a totally different person out here. you had a reputation to uphold, you couldn’t risk the scrutiny you or your parents would face if anyone ever found out.

as mad as you were at the mystery man behind the screen for ghosting you without an explanation, you could understand his sudden disappearance now that you currently felt sick to your stomach at the realization. he was far too close for comfort. based off of his username, you knew you two had to be running in the same social circles, your blood running cold at the thought of this person being someone you might’ve had contact with before. figure eight wasn’t big enough to keep a secret like this, it was only a matter of time before you two would unintentionally reveal yourselves to one another.

[1:50 AM] brattydiaries: this can’t go on any longer. sorry not sorry.

you ignored the small pang of hurt in your chest when you pressed send. apart of you hoped that he wouldn’t let you off so easily. you couldn’t deny the thrilling feeling that sat in your tummy at the prospect of knowing who he is but also being utterly clueless at the same time.

[1:55 AM] countryclub: nah.

[1:55 AM] countryclub: i got you right where i want you now.

there was no way in hell rafe was going to just allow you two to go back to not talking. he did it once, but he wouldn’t be able to do it again. especially now that he knows everything he wants is on his side of the island. just in arm’s reach. obviously, he couldn’t physically stop you from blocking him, but at least he knew that if you responded to him then you two were on the same page.

and sure enough..

[1:59 AM] brattydiaries: whatever.

were you scared shitless? yes. did you believe that this was going to backfire in some way? most definitely; but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this. whatever little sexting arrangement you two had going on, it was the only relatively exciting thing you had going for yourself and you weren’t necessarily ready to let it go.

[2:03 AM] countryclub: so can i call you or what?

you shook your head even though he couldn’t see you.

[2:05 AM] brattydiaries: fuck no. goodnight.

rafe smiled down at his phone before getting ready for bed, both of you finding it nearly impossible to get any kind of sleep. when you woke up the next morning, you were met with at least a dozen messages from chanel.

[8:10 AM] chanel ♡: topper just dropped me off at home..

[8:12 AM] chanel ♡: crazyyyyy night.. but anyways! me and you are going on a double date tonight. idk who topper is bringing but you don’t get to say no because love me, okay!?

[8:12 AM] chanel ♡: LMAO imagine it’s rafe

[8:18 AM] chanel ♡: omg you srsly need to wake up already and come over so you could help me choose an outfit!!

you continued reading through her texts, already dreading tonight’s plans as you decided to go ahead and get the day started so you could get this whole ‘date night’ thing over with. even though chanel jokingly said topper would bring rafe to be your date, you really hoped that wasn’t the case. the last thing you felt like doing was fighting or bickering with him because of your indifferences. after spending the afternoon rummaging through chanel’s closet, she finally settled on a dress that she hasn’t worn out before. “where are we even going?” you asked.

“topper said it’s a surprise so he’s picking both of us up from here.” she smiled, her words making you roll your eyes. you hated not knowing what you were getting yourself into. yet again, here you were, sexting with a stranger who just might not be a stranger after all. by the time topper texted chanel that he was outside, you two were in full glam, ready for whatever tonight may bring you. topper opened the doors for both of you, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you two. “we weren’t sure how to dress, sooo..” topper nodded, “yeah, i can see that.”

topper had on a casual outfit, a stark difference to the mini dresses and heels you and chanel currently wore. “now is probably a good time to tell us where we’re going.” you quipped from the backseat. at your cattiness, chanel flashed you a glare. “rafe offered up his boat, so i figured we’d just have a couple drinks, have a good time, ‘you know?” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as chanel happily agreed. this was bullshit. not only did you have to spend the next few hours with rafe on his stupid boat, but you were sure this ‘double date’ was going to turn into a third wheeling act real fast.

fifteen minutes later, and rafe was reaching out to help you onto the druthers, an annoyed look written all over his face as you tossed your purse at him first. “what? i don’t want my bag to fall in the water, okay?!” taking hold of your hand, rafe caught a glimpse of your nails, the french tip design looking oddly familar. you squeezed his palm, stepping onto the deck with a sigh. topper and chanel had already made their way inside the cabin area, both of them laughing as they slid the door shut, leaving you and rafe all by yourselves. it was moments like these that made you wish you could be anywhere else.

rafe scanned your outfit, his eyes lingering on your cleavage before you turned around, annoyed. “i guess it’s a good thing topper didn’t mention i’d be spending majority of my night with you. ‘cause i wouldn’t have came.” you snatched your purse back, your heels clicking against the deck as you sat on one of the cushioned chairs near the lounging area. rafe grabbed his cooler, deciding to entertain your antics since all you two had was time. “mmm, i don’t know about that. apart of me thinks you like arguing with me. i know i do.” you scoffed, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips.

“yeah? i bet. female attention seems to be something you lack.” rafe laughed, taking a seat next to you. “oh, i can guarantee you that’s not the case.” he scooted closer, unscrewing the cap from his beer. yeah, right. you knew all about rafe’s inability to hold onto a relationship, rumors of his emotional unavailability spreading around the island like wildfire. “no? i’m sorry, i just assumed since, you know.. you’re a full time asshole.” rafe put his beer down, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed thickly. “only with you, i am.”

you laughed, finally meeting his gaze. he was a lot closer than you thought, his cologne filling your senses as your eyes flickered down to his lips for a second. “so i’m special then?” you had a faux innocent look in your eyes as you blinked up at him, the sight making his jaw clench. “no,” he smiled, leaning in, “but i can be nice. i can be real nice.” the insinuation made your cheeks heat as his face was just mere inches away from your own. tilting your head, you flashed him a sweet smile before shoving him in the chest.

“that’s never going to happen.” rafe acted like you didn’t have any effect on him, but inside? he was fighting every urge to pick you up and take you back to tanneyhill. he couldn’t help but feel like he knew you more than you let on, your demeanor reminding him of a certain someone. “can i ask why?” he watched as you grabbed his beer, your lipgloss smudging around the rim as you took a swig. “why i don’t like you, or why i won’t let you fuck me?” rafe leaned back in his chair, his thighs spreading as he crossed his arms over his chest.

well you definitely had a way with words..

rafe took the time to get a really good look at you. he had a feeling about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, the familiarity driving him crazy. he was determined to figure you out. “both.” he answered, taking his beer back from you. slipping your heels off, you brought your feet up and got comfortable in your spot next to rafe. “well i only realized i didn’t like you when i found out you had been talking about me first. so, really, i should be asking you why you don’t like me.”

rafe blinked. all this time he thought that you felt the way you did just because. “how come you never asked me then?” you stayed silent for a few moments before shrugging. “everyone has always made their assumptions about me. about my parents, about my life.. but no one really knows me, or what really goes on in my home. i just let people think whatever they want.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “what do you mean?” at his words, you realized you may have said too much.

putting your defense back up, you backed away from him slightly before you scoffed. “you’re the last person i’d ever confide in, rafe.” the man next to you immediately recognized what you did, having veered away from being vulnerable a countless amount of times himself. rafe couldn’t help but keep digging. “let’s go tit for tat, then. you tell me something, anything you want, and i’ll say something in return. ‘that way it’s an even exchange.” apart of you hated him for making this so easy.

“i’m not doing that with you.” your voice sounded different. it lacked that usual bite and now rafe felt bad for opening his mouth in the first place. before the awkward tension could settle over you two again, you got up with your phone in your hand. “where are you going?” rafe watched as you slid the door open to the cabin area. “inside. i need to make a phone call.” you lied, walking past chanel and topper who were aggressively making out on the couch in the corner.

locking the small bathroom door behind you, you sighed, taking a moment to let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. what even was that out there? unlocking your phone, you sent chanel a text that you wanted to leave even though the chances of her seeing it was extremely slim. you stalled, deciding to freshen up your makeup as you waited for this so-called ‘date’ to end already. you were reapplying your lip gloss when your phone went off, making you mutter a ‘thank god’. instead of the notification being a message back from your best friend who was currently getting her face sucked off, it was from tumblr instead.

[9:14 PM] countryclub: what are you doing right now? i could use someone to talk to rn ngl

you looked up from your screen and stared into your reflection. this message came at just the right time.

[9:15 PM] brattydiaries: that makes two of us. i’m not with the sweet talk rn though, but i could use a distraction right now for sure..

[9:16 PM] countryclub: define ‘sweet talk’ cause i had every intention of asking you for some sexy pics and maybe a phone call if you’re down with that?

you refrained from laughing at his text, his bluntness throwing you for a loop. you couldn’t deny the giddy feeling you had in your tummy when you thought about hearing his voice. biting your lip nervously, you pulled the neckline of your dress down, exposing the lace of your bra before snapping a few pictures.

[9:19 PM] brattydiaries: 3 attachments

[9:20 PM] brattydiaries: here’s the first half of your request. make me wet and just maybe i’ll accept the call..

rafe was outside on the deck looking over his shoulder every two seconds to make sure you weren’t coming back in time to see the explicit photos currently illuminating his screen. he cursed under his breath, his eyes raking over the soft swells of your breasts. you were so fucking perfect, he couldn’t believe you were so close yet so far.

[9:22 PM] countryclub: fuckk you’re unreal.

[9:22 PM] countryclub: i hate that i’m wrapped up with something right now, otherwise i’d be sending you paragraphs about how pretty your tits look for me.

you sighed in defeat, making a mental note to send him a text once you were finally in the comfort of your own bed. with you still in the bathroom, rafe took his time examining the photos, his eyes widening slightly as he zoomed in on the dainty diamond pendant of your necklace, the background looking like something he has seen before.

[9:25 PM] brattydiaries: aww, too bad.

just then, chanel knocked on the bathroom door, her hair looking slightly out of place once you opened it. “i just saw your text. you ready to go?” you nodded, adjusting your dress before stepping out. “sorry to cock block you, i just had a really weird moment with rafe.” you explained, tossing your phone back in your purse. chanel waved you off before interlocking her arm with yours. “don’t even worry about it, we’re going back to his place, anyways.” she reassured you.

topper was already outside on the deck once you two made your way out of the cabin. glancing at rafe, you quickly looked away once you saw that he was already staring at you. “well, thanks for letting us use the druthers.” chanel smiled, in which rafe just shook his head. “ah, don’t even worry about it,” he held your stare, “..i had a good time.” blinking away from him, rafe’s eyes caught onto your cleavage once again, except this time; a sparkle from right above your neckline took him out of his reverie.

that necklace..

before he could piece anything together, you were moving with chanel, not sparing rafe another look as you were getting back onto the dock. the car ride back to your place was deadly silent. all except for the music topper had playing in the background. by the time you had gotten home and showered, you felt your world come to a stand still when your phone started ringing, an unsaved number with kildare island’s area code showing up at the top.

accepting the call, you held up the receiver to your ear with a shaky hand before speaking.

“hello?”

“..you sound pretty.”

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[science-hoes]

Guilty Pleasure

Jack Abbot x Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+, arm riding, biting, deepthroating fingers, language, filth, the worms in my brain told me to write this

Jack Abbot Masterlist 💕

——

Your boyfriend stared at you, mouth agape at your request. His arms were crossed over his chest, forearms flexing as he unconsciously clenched and unclenched his fists. The low glow of the lamp in his bedroom was the only reason he could see that you were actually serious. “You…what?“ He questioned.

Usually, you knew better than to avoid Jack’s gaze. But after a 12 hour shift, finally in the comfort of his home in the early morning, you unashamedly stared at your guilty pleasure. Freckled muscles threatening to bust through the fabric of his well-fitted black t-shirt. But who could blame you?

Every shift, you had to stare at those arms. Fuck, they stared at you. They were so big, they could have their own zip code. And they distracted you. The way Jack worked diligently with his hands on a patient, tendons of his forearms rolling with each flexion. The way his arms corded with bulging veins after helping move a patient or heavy equipment. The way his beefy hands guided yours during a procedure, making yours look dainty and frail. It sure made it difficult to concentrate during the pre-shift huddle, the way your boyfriend loved to move his hands as he spoke, flashing those gorgeous arms in all their glory.

“I want to bite your arms.” You repeated for him.

Jack looked down to his arms, trying to figure out what the fuck you were seeing. “You know, I’m into whatever you want, love. But cannibalism?” He teased, flicking his whiskey eyes up to you, craning his neck like a turtle, that silly move he does when he’s questioning someone.

You rolled your eyes, closing the distance between you. You unwound his arms and massaged one of his aching wrists. “Oh, please. I don’t want Kuru.” You joked.

Jack shook his head, but smiled nonetheless. “Good girl. You’ll ace that board exam if they ever ask about spongiform encephalopathies.” He continued to mock.

You jabbed him in the sides with wiggling fingers, and he laughed. “Don’t change the subject. I want your arms.” You redirected.

Jack just continued to stare at you with bewildered amusement. “Why do you like my arms?” He questioned.

You shrugged, manhandling the arm you held, examining it like an ancient artifact. Your hands dwarfed in comparison to his engorged muscles. “They’re so sexy. They’re so…big.”

He huffed a laugh. “So? Your boobs are big, and I don’t wanna…” He trailed off as he recalled the previous night and how long he spent suckling at your breasts. “Oh, I guess I get it.” He conceded.

You smirked, kneading your fingertips into his bicep. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Jack was about to come up with another witty response, but you pushed him back toward the bed, making quick work of removing his black t-shirt. The dominance that he allowed you to hold in that moment made him chuckle. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread, letting you stand in between them. His fingers slid under your scrub top, ghosting over the skin of your waist.

“You want something, doll?” His voice was graveled with sleep but there was a twinkle of excitement in his eyes.

You pulled your scrub top over your head, tossing it over to where his shirt ended up. “Can I ride your arms?” You asked.

Jack’s lip twitched, the foreign request sending a chill through his body. “What?”

You pulled the drawstring of your scrub pants and let them pool at your ankles, stepping out of them. “Can I ride your arms?” You repeated, firmly this time.

He still wouldn’t let up, and his lip began to deepen at the sides, dimples morphing onto his face. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

You narrowed your eyes, but they were no match for his steadfast stare that bore through you with desire. “Can I drag my pussy across your fucking massive arms?” You gritted through clenched teeth, blushing at the vulgar words leaving your mouth.

A low rumble left his chest as he began to lean back on the bed. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He praised. “All yours, kid. Have at it.”

You crawled onto the bed, perching beside him on your knees, and lowering your head to his arm. You pressed a single, innocent kiss against the freckles of his bicep, and you could’ve sworn those freckles kissed you back as his muscles pulsed underneath your chapped lips. Your mouth began to open more as you moved along his bicep, trailblazing down to his forearm, tongue dragging in tow.

Jack studied the way you worshiped his limb, curiosity peaking when your teeth began to graze against his flesh with your kisses. The first sensation of your hardened enamel sent a jolt of electricity through his entire arm causing his shoulder to spasm. You flicked your eyes up to him and smirked.

“You like that, huh?” You purred against his skin.

The muscles in his neck strained as he swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, kid.” He muttered, reaching a hand to his crotch to palm away some new pressure. “But it ain’t bad.”

You smirked and continued your expedition. The sun-worn skin against your tongue and teeth stretched just slightly as you licked a stripe down his forearm, from elbow crease to wrist. A shudder escaped his nose, and he bit the inside of his cheek to maintain his composure. As you worked your way up again with sloppy kisses, you opened your eyes just enough to see the indent of the long and short head bicep muscles. You dragged your tongue to massage the just-noticeable valley, mouth watering far too much. Your drool dripped down his upper arm, down to his elbow.

“Jesus Christ.” Jack mumbled, eyes riveted on your mouth. “Getting what you need, baby girl?”

His voice was sweet but too condescending. In retaliation, you bit down hard on the chunk of muscle, digging your teeth into his flesh. Not enough to break skin, but enough to satisfy your primal appetite. Jack let out a startled but aroused groan at the sensation. The muscles flexed in your jaws, writhing under your tongue. You sucked on the skin, a last attempt to leave a mark, before releasing his arm from your mouth.

Teeth marks indented in his bicep, claiming it as yours as the area surrounding it began to swell into a warm magenta. You admired your work and pressed a soothing kiss against your mark.

“You like marking me up?” Jack mumbled through dazed eyes. “Want people to know I belong to someone?”

You smirked before taking another chomp at his muscles, this time on the forearm. You sucked greedily at the cephalic vein that was permanently visible through his skin, always taunting you when he wore short sleeves. Your tongue lapped at the skin that grew saltier by the second with sweat, indulging in the savory taste.

“If you leave too many bruises, people will ask questions.” He warned, still palming himself through his scrub bottoms. “And I promise, I will mark you tenfold what you leave on me.”

You just hummed in acknowledgement to his threat before releasing the patch of skin, secretly hoping that he would hold true to that promise. The blotch grew darker as it adjusted to open air again, and you smiled with content. But then something caught your eye. The way his fingers twitched slightly, curling down to his palm as his arm rested on the bed. Those fingers spent a lot of time in your pussy, but not enough time in your mouth. That needed to be fixed.

You delicately grasped his wrist, lifting his hand. His fingers brushed against your cupid’s bow, tracing the outline. You met his eyes, and without breaking contact, you swallowed his meaty index finger. Jack let out a vulgar groan as he felt the smooth back of your throat against his fingerprint. You held him there for a moment until your gag reflex forced you to withdraw.

“Oh, fuuuuck.” He hissed, brow furrowed in bliss. “You know, you’re gonna-“

You cut him off by shoving his index and middle finger down your throat this time, somehow going deeper than before. His voice cracked as your pharynx constricted around his fingers. A wet gag forced them out of your mouth again, freeing your airway. A strand of beaded saliva connected your mouth to his hand as he reluctantly pulled away.

Jack wanted to fuck you senseless in that moment. Being such a good girl for him, taking his fingers so deep, face flushed and eyes watering. But he knew what you wanted, what you had asked so nicely for. So he extended his right arm away from his upper body.

“Wanna take a ride, baby doll?” His face was smug, mouth pulling to one side to show off his adorable grin.

You smirked in response. “What’s that saying? Save a horse, ride an ER cowboy?” You teased.

Jack chuckled, stretching his arm further to you. “Saddle up, cowgirl.”

You hovered above his forearm, the heat of his skin matching the radiation from your pussy. Your thighs trembled as you lowered closer and closer and closer.

Until Jack let out an unexpected groan as your juices melted against his skin. “So wet for me?” He sputtered. “Just for my arms, baby girl?”

You were a little embarrassed at his questioning, but you couldn’t help the euphoria speeding through your neurons. Every vein against your clit was electric. You placed a balancing hand on his broad chest, stabilizing yourself to slide up and down his arm.

“If you answer me, I’ll make it even better. I promise.” The look in his eyes was unrecognizable. Almost possessed.

You couldn’t look away from his powerful gaze, mainly because you knew if you did, he would force your jaw with his hand to meet his eyes. “Just for your arms.” You finally whispered.

“I can’t hear you.” He nearly growled.

You whimpered as you slid against him. “Just for your arms.” You verified, much louder this time.

He smiled with satisfaction. “That’s my girl.” He cooed.

Then he flexed his forearm under you, rippling the muscles and veins against your pussy. Just like he was pumping his arm before giving blood. Your eyes rolled back as you continued to grind against him.

“Oh, fuck, Jack.” You moaned.

Your vaginal lips smeared across the unholy marks you had left just a few minutes before. Jack placed his free hand on your thigh, guiding you ever so gently.

“Yeah? That feel good, baby doll?” He whispered.

He began to slide his arm in the opposite direction of your thrusts, enhancing the friction. The muscles and veins that nearly popped out of his skin were teasing your clit in a way that drove you mad. You whimpered as you dug your hips deeper, chasing your orgasm with every lewd squelch of your pussy.

“Feels so good.” You panted.

The familiar warmness in your belly began to creep lower and lower as you rode. Your thighs shook violently as you struggled to maintain balance as your climax neared. Jack chuckled and placed a strong hand on your shoulder to stabilize you.

“Oh, you’re so close, sweet girl. Take a break. I’ll get you there.” He said, voice laced with fake pity.

You finally stopped moving your hips, legs shaking as you came to a halt. And just like he promised, Jack continued move his arm underneath you, faster than he had before. You scratched at his chest with the hand that rested there as he set a bruising pace. Your clit swelled at the rapid brush of his worn, leathered skin, and it became too much. Your thighs clenched around his arm like a vice as you rocked into your orgasm, screaming his name as you did.

“There you go. Keep coming for me.” Jack coached you on.

Your pussy throbbed against him, slathering your juices on his freckled skin. When you finally collapsed on top of him, freeing his arm for the first time, he held it up to inspect it. Your slick honey dribbling over the veins down to his elbow, crossing over the bruise and bite mark you had left on his forearm.

He chuckled to himself. “Look at that mess you made.” He mumbled against your head. “All for my arms, huh?”

You hummed in agreement, still dazed by your release. “Told you they’re hot.” You breathed against his chest.

Jack wrapped his clean arm around you securely as you reeled from your high. He admired the way your juices glistened on his skin in the low light of the bedroom, how they glossed over his freckles.

“Why didn’t you just ask me sooner?” He questioned.

You shrugged, face still buried in his chest. “I was worried you’d be too…”

He raised an eyebrow. “Too…?”

You smirked slightly. “Too old fashioned.”

“Old fashioned.” Jack repeated, a smile on his lips. “What makes you think that?”

You rubbed circles onto his chest with your thumb, feeling pulled closer and closer to sleep. “I dunno.” You mumbled.

“Because I’m old?” He deadpanned.

You giggled and looked up to him. “You said it, not me.”

Jack chuckled, the warm vibrations rumbling through his chest and to your ear pressed against it. He lifted a finger underneath your chin to maintain your gaze and leaned down to kiss you gently. “After we get some sleep, you're gonna be apologizing for that little ‘old-fashioned’ comment for hours.”

—

A/N: I’m sorry this was shorter than my usual fics but I needed to have this written so the worms would stop talking to me 🐛

[buckysfaveplum]

her weakness

summary: you’re an enhanced individual with strong abilities and one moral code- you only fight with them when your opponent is also enhanced. during the fight with john walker, that code gets broken when bucky is hurt

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: violence, blood, fighting, it’s a fight seen so yea expect things relating to that

a/n: i rewatched tfatws and this fight always makes me so worried for my bbs so yea this was born. I typed it up helllllla quick so I'm sorry if its trash, I'm not too proud of this one idk.

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Your feet followed closely behind Bucky as you approached the warehouse. Your limbs were stiff and your skin clammy. Your hand stayed firmly in Bucky’s grasp as you approached John Walker. Sam had tracked him to a storage warehouse near the square you had just witnessed brutality in.

He murdered him, in cold blood, with Steve’s shield. You couldn’t get the screams of the public out of your head, the sound of the vibranium as it slashed into the flagsmasher’s body. You would’ve thrown up if Bucky hadn’t pushed you behind him. You had seen much worse, much more gruesome violence in your line of work. But something about this was sickening, rotting away in your stomach as you tried to grapple with the truth that the shield your friend once carried with honor and pride was just used by an unhinged soldier who found joy in the worst parts of the job.

Bucky stayed ahead of you, following Sam as they entered the building. Your hand trembled in his vibranium grasp. His thumb gently brushed across the veins and bones of your hand, trying to bring you comfort before the scene he knew was about to play out.

As you walked into the large space, you saw him. He was too composed and stoic for what had just taken place. His tall and slender figure loomed as he casually walked up to you all, barely acknowledging Sam as he tried to get him to listen.

“Walker,��� Sam started. The soldier brushed Sam’s stern tone off, hopefully delaying what he knew was coming.

“You guys should see a medic, you don’t look so good,” He said, walking past you.

“Stop, Walker,” Sam took a few steps closer, trying again to get him to focus.

Your jaw tightened as you watched the man pace erratically in front of you. He was muttering quietly before responding as if trying to convince himself what he was saying had any truth.

“What?” He asked, coming closer. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do.”

Your grip on Bucky tightened, sensing Walker’s anger began to boil over. You knew a fight was coming, it always was. 

“I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!” Walker shouted, his arms waving now and revealing how off the deep end he had gone. 

You knew the moment you saw him in that fight. He stole the serum and took it for himself. This behavior just confirmed it. But the serum only enhanced what was already bubbling under the surface. The same John you meet on the highway. The same John who waltzed into the police station as if he had the authority or right to control Bucky and call him an ‘asset’. It was always there. 

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.”

Bucky’s smooth and deep voice cut through the tension in the room. You felt his grip on your hand squeeze for a moment, making sure you were okay. He could always sense your anxiety in the field. Your powers made keeping your calm difficult. You would never use them in battle unless your opponent was enhanced as well. You were a skilled fighter and agent, you didn’t need them. And it didn’t always seem ethical. But keeping them at bay, in check, could prove difficult- especially in heightened situations such as this.

Walker scoffed at Bucky’s words, dismissing the truth like it was nothing.

“Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well,” Bucky said.

“I’m not like you!” Walker’s voice was full of disgust and resentment. From the moment you met him, you could sense his quiet disdain for your best friend. Looking down his nose at him like he was some scum left over from Steve's life, something he’d always have to deal with. Yet at the same time, resentment. Jealousy over his power, control, and abilities in his enhanced body. As if that’s what made him an excellent fighter. Or a good person.

Your spare hand moved between Bucky’s shoulder blades, giving him a subtle and quiet support as you prepared.

“Listen, it was the heat of the battle, okay?” Sam said, taking a step closer to Walker. That shield danced in your vision, taunting you as he paced back and forth. “If you explain what happened, they may consider your record.”

Walker’s distress spread across his face, his brows furrowing and eyes scrunching as he tussled with Sam’s words.

“We don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” Sam said.

The warehouse went silent as Walker stared at the ground before him. Bucky gave you a soft, tight-lipped smile before begrudgingly dropping your hand. He slowly took a step towards the man, joining Sam.

“John…” Bucky said, calmly. 

“You gotta give me the shield, man,” Sam said.

That did it. You could feel the room shift that second.

A disturbing serene aura washed over Walker at that moment. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to you all. His eyes were dark, lacking a certain warmth and compassion you had grown so used to seeing through that blue cowl. A certain warmth that left when he hung up the shield.

“Oh…. so that’s what this is,” Walker said. “You almost got me.”

You could see his grip on the shield tighten, the leather straps twisting between his fingers.

“You made a mistake,” Sam said.

You slowly took a step forward, your hands flexing as you prepared for what was to come. Walker finally turned his gaze to you. His eyes roamed you up and down. You could’ve sworn you saw Bucky’s jaw clench, that familiar muscle tightening in distress. Walker smirked at you before glancing at Bucky. He could read the protectiveness radiating off of your supersoldier.

“You don’t wanna do this,” Walker said to him.

Bucky didn’t meet his gaze. His fists balled at his side, practically shaking with anger. He never took pleasure in a fight, every punch or kick felt like a necessity rather than enjoyment. But he couldn’t deny how much he desired to rip that shield from his grimy hands.

“Yeah we do,” Bucky said.

Sam lurched forward first, Bucky soon following suit. Your feet moved quickly, moving behind Walker as your friends attacked from the front. The man moved with a speed you had yet to see from him, a brute force you could only get from the serum.

With a harsh kick, Walker sent Sam flying away, leaving you and Bucky alone. You tried to knock Walker down from the back as Bucky grappled with the shield. As you sent a harsh kick into the back of Walker’s knees, he spun quickly and sent a jab into Bucky’s gut sending him backward in pain and knocking him off balance. Before you could back him up, Walker slammed a harsh punch into Bucky’s jaw. Your heart raced and your hands shook as you watched him drop to the ground. You sprung into action, pulling the shield back in your hands and keeping Walker from smashing it into Bucky’s face. Sam leaped in, kicking the shield up and drawing attention to him.

You slammed a kick into Walker’s back, sending him stumbling forward as Sam slashed at him with his wings. Bucky leaped up, his arm aiming to come down on the faux Captain America’s back hard but was ultimately blocked by the shield. 

You were growing frustrated. Walker never packed this much of a punch. The serum raged through his veins, lacing each kick and swing of the shield with force and hate. As you and Sam continued to trade blocks at Walker, Bucky attempted to pull him down but was quickly met with the shield swinging into the side of his face. Your legs shook. The longer this dragged out the more difficult you find keeping your emotions in check. The longer you watched your favorite person in the world become decorated with blood and bruises, the more your ethical code began to look like a suggestion. Walker deserved a swift blast to the face and more. But you held off. 

Walker slammed the shield into Sam’s back, sending him down. As your two friends recovered briefly, it was just you and him. You surged forward at the man, dodging as he swung at you. Being smaller than the two Avengers alongside you made it much easier to evade Walker’s sloppy attacks. You sent a firm kick into his chest followed by an uppercut into his chin. As he spun and tumbled, Bucky was back on his feet and meeting Walker with punches. Bucky’s attacks quickly led the pair into a tight spot, backing Walker up into a heavy piece of machinery. The pair spun in circles over the shield, yanking the vibranium disc back and forth and trading beatings in between. Sam quickly followed you over, diving in for aid, but quickly was sent flying back by Walker’s attacks. His body slammed to the ground with a grunt.

While Bucky worked, you glanced at Sam. He pushed himself to his feet slowly, preparing to dive back into the fight. In your moment of distraction, the fear and care for your dear friend overriding your common sense to keep fighting, you heard Walker’s voice pull you back. Bucky was trapped between the shield and a machine. You rushed over to help but it was far too late.

“Why are you making me do this?!” Before you could register what Walker was saying, you watched as Bucky went flying. 

Walker’s forceful swing of the shield sent him hurtling across the warehouse. Your body froze as if someone had filled your veins with cement. The dramatic scene Walker had created came to an end with Bucky’s body smashing into an electrified pole and crashing to the ground. The might of his impact snapped the pole in the middle, sparks cascaded from the steel and flooded onto the floors; leading your eyes to Bucky. 

“Bucky!” You screamed.

His body lay limp and splayed out on the cold dirty floors. His face was smushed into the cement. His limbs didn’t dare to move. Except for his vibranium arm, which twitched and spasmed under his body; blue and white sparks burst out from the plates adding to the horror.

Your breaths were heavy and shaky, your hands trembled at your sides as the vibrating blue of your powers began to spark at your fingertips; mirroring the sight of your best friend’s arm. The room was spinning, at least that’s what made sense to you. Your balance was unstable, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. You turned to spare a look at Sam, begging him for permission. But he was already back on his feet and rushing towards Walker. 

“Go!” He shouted.

You had never been faster. Your abilities never gave you the gift of flight but in that moment they very well could have. Your legs became weak and your steps messy as you neared Bucky. You crashed to your knees beside him, pain radiated up your thighs from the impact but you couldn’t care. It couldn’t be worse than the expanding tight pain in your chest as you struggled to breathe.

Your hands quivered as they hovered over his body. With him lying so still you could finally take in the damage Walker had done to his face. Blood was splattered all over, deep purple and blue hues bloomed across his cheekbones, and a nasty split had opened on his lip. Worst of all, his nose was broken.

The sparks continued to burst from the plates of his arm, his hand jerking and spasming with an unsettling sound of grinding metal. Quickly, you placed your hands firmly on the vibranium. A deep blue beamed from under your palms, cascading the metallic golds and blacks of his arm in your glow. The excess electricity from the crash moved in waves through the arm up into your hands. You focused as all the veins in your body became electrified, an aqua glow shone through your skin as the energy you. Your once y/e/c eyes were quickly overtaken, the cool energy overriding your iris’ and leaving an intense indigo shine. With a sharp gasp and breath, you let go. His arm had stopped moving, now lying as still and motionless as he did. 

“Bucky,” you said, giving his damaged body a soft shake. “Bucky, wake up.”

He didn’t move, his face slack and limps heavy as you struggled to turn him to his back and off of his arm. Your hands rushed to his face, cupping his cheeks and holding him close as if you could shield him from more of John Walker’s savagery. If someone had the power to take your abilities and trade them for the ability to heal, you’d offer them anything they wished just for the potential to spare Bucky from his pain even for a moment. 

“Buck… come on wake up,” the fresh blood from his injuries spilled into your fingertips, the crimson caked into your cuticles and threatened not to leave.

“Plum, please,” His body twitched; your lungs finally filled with air. 

His breaths were labored but there, his chest rattled as he sucked in much-needed air. Your fingers moved to his neck, their shuddering finally stilling as you felt his pulse return to a firm and strong pattern.

The sounds of Sam’s grunts and Walker’s cries swiftly pulled your attention back to your friend. He was up in the air, a long metal cord pulling on the shield and attempting to free it from Walker’s venomous grasp. To no avail, as soon Sam was flung back to the floor and across the room. The shield clattered to the ground, equally laid between the two men. The smug and determined look on Walker’s face enraged you, the blue glow returning to your eyes. Sam glanced over at you before rushing for the shield. He needed you.

You turned back to Bucky, still unresponsive to your touches and voice. He was breathing, his pulse steady. Taking in the broken state of his body, his face battered and bloodied, you couldn’t hold back your rage any longer.

It was as if something had possessed you. Gently, you laid Bucky back to the ground, pressing a trembling kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, your voice monotone yet determined. The expressions of concern, fear, and horror that had played upon your face just moments ago were now gone. You were cold and still, as you rose to your feet and walked over to the two men fighting behind you.

Before Walker could grab the shield, a harsh blast of blue energy sent him flying back in the opposite direction. The man was studded, confused by how he could have been knocked down. He looked up to see you rushing towards him. You were steady in your movement, not running but with each step winding up for the next blow. Your hands were baked in a fierce glow of aqua as you channeled more energy through your fingertips. 

Walker scrambled to his feet, preparing for the offense. Before he could even take a step he was back on the ground with another blast from you. A loud cry fell from your lips as you slammed him down with force from your power. As you ran up to Walker, he quickly sent a firm hit to your jaw. You stumbled back, regaining your vision to see him coming at you. You jumped up, knees to your chest and feet pressing on his as you blasted him once again. 

He was on the ground with you towering over him. His face was coated in shades of black and blue, mirroring the face you were trembling over just seconds ago. Good, he deserved that and more.

You blasted him again as he struggled to crawl away. You followed him, hot on his trail as energy overflowed from your hands. The shield was long forgotten by you, only driven by your need for revenge. Bucky couldn’t even answer you, couldn’t move. He needed to pay.

Walker’s body slammed back into machinery as you surged more energy at him. He was done, hands shaking above him as he prepared for your next blow.

“We’re better than this right? Captain America doesn’t do this,” Walker said through his split lip and shaking jaw.

You scoffed; if only he had thought that way an hour ago. You wouldn’t be here. Bucky would be okay.

“Good thing I’m not Captain America,” you said. Walker shielded his face as you wound up your aim. Energy radiated from your fist up your forearm as you pulled it back to deliver one last shot.

“Y/n, stop!” Sam shouted.

Your blast was halted by a firm hand on your upper arm. You recognized the stillness and coolness that held onto your body. Turning you saw Bucky behind you. He was shaking as he stood, breaths labored and heavy, but there he was. Sam ran up behind the two of you, shield in hand as he looked at you. But all you could focus on was Bucky.

Bucky stepped forward, shaking his head softly as he lowered your arm. 

“This isn’t you, you don’t do this,” he said. Your nostrils flared as you breathed heavily, struggling to reel your rage back in. You glanced back at Walker who lay on the ground, glaring at you smugly. Your eyes shone brighter, your fists clenching as the glow intensified. 

“Hey,” Bucky said, taking your face and turning you to look back at him. “You’re not him.”

The energy overtaking your body began to fade as you relaxed under his firm touch. The uncontrollable blue glow began to fade back into your body, leaving you panting as you tried to calm your emotions. Bucky stood before you, vibranium hand stroking your own.

“You’re okay,” you said.

“I’m okay. Hey, hey, I’m okay. It’s over,” he said, pulling you away from the scene you had created. He walked you slowly back towards Sam, you shook in his grasp. Walker struggled to stand as he watched the three of you leave. The shield taunted him as it hung off of Sam’s arm, finally back with its true owner. The Captain America.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking at Sam. “I just….” you glanced at Bucky, once again seeing the battering of his beautiful face. Your throat swelled as you lost your words, choking on your fear.

“We got it back,” Sam said, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze before heading out of the building. His limp as he walked didn’t escape you.

Bucky gripped your hand tightly, pulling you with him as he walked. He didn’t make it far before his knees began to buckle, his body slipping as he fell. You were at his side in a heartbeat, arm hauling him back up beside you; refusing to let his body crash to the filthy ground again. 

“Hey, hold onto me,” you said. You wrapped his arm around your shoulder and his other gripped at your waist as you began to pull him from the warehouse, his feet limping and tripping as he struggled to walk. Walker’s body began to fade in the distance as you left.

“Why did you do that, doll?” Bucky asked as you walked, his voice slurred and low. Each wince and suck of breath stabbed at your side like a pecking bird, refusing to let your wound heal. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never done that. I….” you paused, stopping your feet as you gave him a moment to catch his breath. “When I saw you hit that pole, I lost it.”

“I’m okay, Y/n,” he said, yet his words seemed to hold no weight as he struggled to stay upright at your side.

“Your arm was sparking, Bucky. You weren’t moving. I-I thought that you…” You couldn’t finish, gripping him tighter as your voice shook. As if letting him go would give the world a chance to tear him from you once again. Your fingertips dug into his tact suit, determined to embed yourself in him.

“Hey, babydoll,” he said, hoisting himself up just enough to take your face in his hands. He swayed on his feet as he stood, intent on holding you close as he spoke. Your hands held him steady at his side.

“I’m here, I’ll always be here. But no matter what happens to me, I don’t want you to lose yourself,” he said, stroking your cheek. “I can’t have that.”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” you said.

“You won’t. I’m right here, I’m always coming back to you.”

You nodded softly as you rested your head on his chest. His hands moved to your hair as he held you close. Your hands wound around his center, keeping him safe in your arms. As long as you were around, no one would take him.

“You’re so good, you’re so special, Y/n. You need to be strong, even if I get hurt. You can’t drop your morals for me. They mean too much to you,” he said.

“I think you may be my weakness,” you said, your voice muffled in his chest. He tucked himself closer into you at your words, his head resting upon yours. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head.

“You’ve always been mine,” he said softly.

---

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[pinkmirth]

thinking about s/o who likes to dress up their vampire bf (yes i'm talking about adrian) and they always make sure that he likes the outfit too. he's just so pretty i can't 🥺

𝜗𝜚 ࣪ ˖ 𓈒 “DOTE” FT. ADRIÁN ‘ALUCARD’ ȚEPEȘ! ⸻ ( 2k+ ) words of ⨾ fluff + suggestive/nsfw, alucard x fem!reader ( black-coded ), canon-divergent, set in the set in the 15th century (1400s), established relationship, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!

my love letter! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ oh my goodness luna, i adore this!!! doting on adrian and clothing him sounds like a dream! it’s moving enough for me to want to put it into words . . . i ended up writing this out to be a teensy bit sentimental, if that’s okay! i feel like he’d be hesitant to receive affection but eventually ends up reveling in it because it’s just what he needed! adrian truly deserves some loveee, and i’m here to give it to him >.< please enjoy, and thank you so much for reading! ❤︎

there’s something you and your lover like to call the ‘ echoes, ’ simply put, for any noise that bounces off the walls resounds throughout the entire castle. it’s a reliable system, and adrian’s able to use it to call your attention from anywhere within it.

“darling,” there goes his soothingly silken voice, ringing out all the way from the east wing. at times, you’re amused at how it can reach you from this far. “would you come over and give this a look, please?”

at his plea, you’ll be there. so you settle down the leatherback-book you’d been reading, slinking the pad of your finger beneath a page to fold it by the crisp outer corner.

“coming!”

you’re sure he feels you nearing, courtesy of your shallow-heeled footsteps thudding upon the wine-red shag of his home’s romanian rugs. he acknowledges your presence by swinging open the door to the primary bedroom.

you didn’t think you’d have to tiptoe around mountain-sized heaps of clothing upon entering adrian’s chamber— his closet’s practically ravaged. although, living with a dhampir was never known to be an experience short of surprises.

in the midst of all the madness is where he stands, still adorned in his cream nightgown. he’s got a garment clutched in one hand and a pullover tunic in the other. the subtle veins running along his slender hands makes his grip look exasperated. alucard appears to be having one of those days— where nothing feels just right.

“what’s all this, dear? thought you’d have been dressed by now,” you call out, making your way around a stockpile of trousers to approach him. gently, your delicate hands come to settle upon the broad expanse of his clothed chest. just as he figured it would, your touch immediately soothes him.

the man sighs before he speaks. “i apologize,” adrian peers down at you from where he stands, dropping both items to rest his hands on either side of your hips, “i’ll make sure to clean up afterwards.”

“no worries,” you hum, offering him a warm, sweet smile. when he tends to grow reckless, you know what he needs most is a dash of affection. “you wanted me to take a look at something, yes?”

“i did,” he mumbles, sunny eyes flitting over to his plundered closet, “though now i’m seriously reconsidering every single piece that i own.”

you don’t make a point to say it, but you know it isn’t about the blouses or the pants or any of those things. it’s his mind that tends to run rampant on all that’s been and all he’s lost. at tines, it manifests into agitation, a period of overstimulation where one thing makes him shirk and another gets him withdrawn. despite it all, he’s consoled that you’re here to reel him back in and distract him from himself in that dreamy little way that you do.

“show me the one you were last contemplating on, adrian.” you do it with such ease, pulling him out of his own head and bringing him back into the moment. for a good second, he thinks of just how lucky one man could possibly be.

“go on,” you pat his chest, and his lips flit up into a subtle grin. now more content, adrian scours for it and eventually plucks it off an embroidered chair situated in the corner; only God knows how it got there.

pinched between his index and thumbs, alucard holds up the top, exaggerated sleeves and all, presenting it to you; a simple chestnut colored option that shares the same wood-like hue as the bedpost.

“my twelfth option of the day,” he snidely notes. his sarcasm pries giggle from you. “what do you think, love?”

“it’s quite pretty,” you tilt your head, inspecting the piece with sparkly, concentrated eyes. he admires the way a wispy strand of hair falls along to drape against your face. just precious, he believes.

“it’s a little puffy at the sleeves, though.”

“i knew it,” adrian attests, “this is too . . . flouncy.”

“oh, forget what i said! it’s the perfect amount of flouce.”

“no no, it’s far too much. it’s practically screaming at me.” to that, you chuckle a bit. he can be ever so keen to such minute details.

theatrically, adrian mounts the nearby bed and flops atop the tousled sheets, an exhale leaving the depths of his chest upon impact. “i suppose this is just an ‘only-underwear’ sort of day.” you nearly add that he might as well free himself as a whole and go naked, but the poor man would flush so badly that you choose to refrain.

“you know, adrian,” you scan over his collection, eyeing the finest of silks, puffed shirts and ruffles. his wardrobe practically looks fitting for that of wallachian royalty. “i could make it easy, choose an outfit for you.”

its sudden, how he sits upright and turns to you. his eyes blink just a bit wider, a little slower. alucard’s mouth strikingly quirks upwards in a way that makes you believe he hadn’t been comfortable with the idea— almost as though you’d been meaning to treat him like a child.

“you’d . . . dress me up?”

you retract in the slightest, “only if you’d like. it isn’t a must—”

“please,” he ultimately responds, tone soft and low, “by all means.” it had just been the thought of the sheer intimacy that dazed him. you selecting what would fit him best through your eyes, pulling himself free of his clothes, revealed unto you as you’re dolling him up . . . it all sounds so touching and right now, he wants nothing more.

he can feel palpable relief roll off of you in waves as you beam, “sounds perfect, then.” he calms himself and fixes his countenance, gracing you with a sincere smile. rosy pigment scatters itself upon his face. you catch onto that hopeful glimmer in his eye, one that shows he’s pleased though you can’t quite place it. he’s too softened to say that gratitude has overcome him.

your back is facing him as you rummage around and take your pick, “undress while i put something together, alright?”

“bold request,” adrian characteristically quips. you merely laugh, “you should be bare once i turn around, you hear?”

he hums in acknowledgment, although he opts for tidying up the room first. you can’t see him with your back turned, yet you know he made use of his vampirian speed to grab and fold all his clothes that’d been thrown-askew, including the night attire he’d already been wearing. it amazes you that it only took him a solid eight seconds to complete it all.

“i’m sure that’s convenient,” you muse, turning his way with your selections in hand. alucard’s bare now, adorned in nothing other than his undergarments. a plain and skimpy pair of beige-white breeches shouldn’t excite you so— but god, they hang so low on his hips it’s like they’re barely even there. and how could you possibly ignore the way the cloth clings to his thighs? his arms look strong and coiled like wire, and the chiseled lining of his lean torso is embellished by the fleshy-pink scar that runs past his abdomen all the way up the center of his firm chest.

adrian can only hold your gaze for so long before realizing that you’re drinking him in. consciously, he pivots his head the other way as though to escape it, allowing his lengthy hair to drape down and cover the flushing of his fair cheeks.

you inch up to him, setting the clothes on his bedside. you find his larger hand to interlace with your own, and he only grows redder. there’s an indescribable pride that comes with being capable of riling him up.

“oh, don’t tell me you’re shy,” your hum is sugary like marmalade, “i’ve seen you before . . . you’re beautiful.”

“oh my god,” he whispers, pressing a palm to his heated face. sometimes adrian finds you to be too sweet. he isn’t sure how you haven’t yet succeeded at killing him with all your flattery. he bashfully smiles, cheeks warm as you stand high on your toes to peck them. “you and that mouth of yours.”

“i’ll leave you alone before you overheat,” you tease, halting your affections to return to the task at hand. “you love to toy with me,” he breathes out, and your giggle confirms it. you then display your choices; fitted pants of black leather paired with a warm-tan blouse, one that brings out the shine of his sharp eyes and adds a flush of vitality to his fair skin. interestingly enough, it resembles the color of his golden hair. you’d gone with something similar to his typical style so that he’d feel comfortable wearing it; though you know he’s been rather picky today.

“is it okay?” the way you await his approval makes his heart throb right within his chest. if only you knew that you handpicking anything for him was enough to make him fall in absolute love with it. it had never really been the outfit— he’s sure he just needed you all along.

“more than okay.” he smiles up at you, lips soft and pale-pink. you wonder if you’d end up altering the mood if you leaned down to kiss him. “well chosen, dear.”

“i know just what you like, don’t i?” you sound quite delighted, and it warms him up inside. “but of course. it’s my closet, after all.” the both of you share a knowing laugh that makes you feel so wholesome, so bound. you’ll be sure to commit the feeling to memory.

he then rises to his feet, standing a solid foot above you as he works his way into the bottoms you chose. a pout overtakes you, pretty lips pursed as you whine, “i could’ve done that!”

“you’ll get to fix the blouse. sounds fair, yes?” adrian knows if you were to have worn his pants for him, the hard-on he’d sport would’ve been more than embarrassing. you’ve seen each other vulnerable a good amount of times, and made love even more than what could be counted, but during a moment like this would only sully the mood, he’s sure.

with a hum, you give in. “fine,” your fingers trace against the threading of his shirt, “sit back down for me. you’re too tall for me to dress you from here,” alucard’s always found the contrast in size between the both of you to be endearing, especially whenever you go on to mention it. you’re surprised he decides to choose obedience instead of poking fun. he takes his place upon the bed and makes room for you to settle atop his lap. it’s instinctive, how quickly his hands reach for your waist. he rubs them along the patterning of your corset.

“arms out,” you’re a little less content when his touch leaves you, though you adore how well he listens. you ease the top over his head, onto his arms and finally onto the rest of his frame, tucking away the mussed locks of wavy blonde hair that fall array.

“i’ll brush it out for you later, adri,” you murmur, smoothing down the frizz before bringing your hands to cradle his cheeks. his face looks simply ethereal this close; flawlessly structured, handsome yet elegant. once again, his hands find their rightful place upon your sides. you watch him melt in your very hold when you coo, “my pretty boy.”

he whimpers a lowly call of your name. “thank you . . for all of it.” you know these sort of pocketed moments mean so much to him. his gentle pitch wavers with the subtlest hint of desire; you’d know the sound of it anywhere. still soft-spoken, though the slightest bit deeper. raspier, even. he only reserves such a tone for you.

your response is hushed, just about breathless, “always, adrian.” the pair of you are so close that the straightened tip of his nose grazes against your own. when the tension grows too thick and you can no longer escape his lips reeling you in like magnets, you finally lean into him and let your mouths slot, warmth blooming between you. his lithe fingers roam and you suckle at his bottom lip, prying a soft groan out of him.

alucard kisses you with longing, the span of his fangs subtly clashing against the pearly white of your teeth as he works at prodding his tongue inside, nipping at your lips and tasting of you. he frees out soft, little ‘ i love you ’ amongst all the licking and sucking.

you both wind up toppling down onto the bed, with his back to the mattress and your squished breasts to his heart. making out with a man such as adrian always gets so heavy; you’re panting into each other's mouths, swallowing up the other one’s sounds, and you just can’t seem to help but slowly roll your hips into the stiffness of his crotch. a handful of minutes with him already has you entirely soiled.

“this is becoming something else,” alucard breaks away with a huff, fighting himself not to rip off the clothes you just adorned him in.

but fuck, you aren’t helping. “allow it, then . . .” is your solution, bringing the plush surface of your lips to suckle along his jaw, against the column of his throat, right down his neck . . . no point in refraining now. you eased him of his worries, and he only wants nothing more than to repay you.

“quite a shame, dear.” it truly is— especially considering that you put together such a stylish assortment for him. “now everything must be undone.”

© 𝒫𝐼𝑁𝐾ℳ𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐻! ⸻ all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ❤︎

[angrythingstarlight]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8xb1Nwy/

This is so Biker!Bucky coded and nothing can change my mind

Oh that's Beefy!Bucky. He's always so needy for you, wants you so damn much that you can wear anything, any-fucking-thing, and he's turned on.

Pairing: Beefy!Biker Bucky x Reader

CW: Smut, light degradation, praise kink, overstimulation, Bucky being a menace. Minors DNI.

A/N: Written on my phone and unbetad. Also I haven't written smut in a while so this is just an excuse for some pwp.

“Aw I know you’re not already crying, Gorgeous.” His voice, deep and mocking, rolls over you as he grasps your hips in a strong, bruising grip, viciously dragging you back on his cock. “We’re just getting started.”

You’re in this position—face down, moans and pleas barely muffled by his pillow, back taut and in a near impossible arch, hips caged in his large, warm hands—all because of that damn nightgown.

It’s shapeless. Two sizes too big. You only bought it because it was on a sale. It’s nothing compared to your actual lingerie.

And all Bucky knows is it makes you look so fucking sexy. And it drives him insane. A fact you both figured out the first night you wore it.

The second he saw you emerge from the bathroom, dressed in your new nightgown, smelling good and looking better, he was all over you. His lips created a path up your throat, hands on your ass, kneading and pushing so he could grind your cunt all over his growing bulge.

Then his long, ring-adorned fingers slipper under your gown, discovering that you had nothing on underneath, discovering your sweet little pussy was soaked and ready for him.

And Bucky Lost.His.Mind.

He had you on all fours, his cock stretching you so good it sent a fiery burn through your veins followed by sweet, sweet pleasure. You sobbed out his name. Or you tried to anyway. Buck—oh fuck barely left your mouth before it got swallowed by the wet moan he dragged out of your throat.

See normally he gives you time to adjust, let’s you savor that first deep thrust but tonight, he slides out of you, inch after inch, before pounding back into your tight, warm pussy.

Normally he starts off sweet and slow. Takes your hand and presses into your lower belly so you both can feel just how deep he can get. And he gets so deep in you, making you feel every warm ridge, every vein, every thick inch he has.

Normally he likes to tease, make you beg for it. Make you claw up his back until thin red lines mar his tattooed skin, knees locked around him, heels digging into the small of his back, desperately trying to get him, all of him, inside you.

Normally he starts off so damn sweet but not tonight. Tonight he’s fucking you rough and hard and fast. The steady thump, thump, thump of the headboard adding to the chorus of moans and cries coming from you with every filthy grind of his hips. The cadence of your pretty voice, needy and desperate, fuels the feral desire in him to wreck you, break you into little pieces, to leave you so full of cum, he’ll be dripping out of you for hours.

“That’s it. See you can take me like this.” His next thrust sends a fresh wave of tears rolling down your cheeks, your jaw slack. White hot pleasure twists up your spine, locking you in place even though part of you is begging for a reprieve.

It’s too much. It’s too good. He’s wrong you can’t take it, you can’t but you also can’t stop your pussy from spasming around him, pulling him back in whenever he leaves your tight, slick walls.

Whimpers that vaguely resemble oh god oh god ohmigod spill from your kiss-swollen lips.

That damn nightgown sticks to your sweat-slicked back. Bucky takes a handful, twisting in his grasp and he yanks you up until your back slams into his chest.

Wrapping his arm around your belly, his other hand curves around your throat, tilting your head so you can watch him fuck you. This sight of his thick cock, coated in your slick, disappering inside your pussy makes you clench down. His lips hover over your ear. “Look at you making a mess all over my cock. Your greedy pussy can’t get enough, can she? You need me to fill you up, you want my cum in your pretty little cunt.”

It’s not a question but you cry out anyway.

“Please, please.” God, you let him do anything he wants to you as long as he keeps fucking you just like that. “Don’t stop, please Bucky.” You’re so close, the edges of your orgasm curl around you, enveloping your senses in a hazy of heady, never-ending pleasure.

Bucky smirks, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in your blissed-out expression. “That’s my girl. My sweet little slut is going to cum all over me like a good fucking girl—,” he groans in your ear, his hips snapping into yours. “—and then I’m gonna cum deep inside this tight cunt.”

That coil that’s been winding tighter and tighter splinters when he drops his hand to your clit and rubs furious, frantic circles around it. Sensation after sensation pulses through you in thick, hot waves. It hits you so hard and fast, that you can’t even make a sound, your body going taut as your orgasm barrels over you.

The last thing you hear before a dull roar fills your ears and your vision blurs is Bucky promising to buy you ten more nightgowns.

And to fuck you on every surface of this house while you wear them.

And I—

[dailyfigures]

Mia Karnstein ; Code Vein ☆ Good Smile Company

[teddybeartoji]

彡 WEEPING, CARVED OPEN HEARTS

☆. contains: bf!toji fushiguro x gn!reader; mild angst with comfort (they had an argument oh no), toji learns how to apologize, toji is in love wc: 2.3k

your throat is sore and your eyes burn. you're tired and sad and upset and you just want it to be over already. but his sharp words swim laps in your head and you can't think about anything else. the ceiling of your shared living room is the only form of solace at this point, the shadows of the street putting on a show just for you.

the warm light of the lamps that stand tall behind the apartment window use the ceiling as a canvas, the passing cars as little characters running around. you hear hollering – it's saturday night, people are having fun. and you're curled up on the sad couch with a sniveling nose.

you hear steps and the bathroom door clicking shut and you use the moment to grab your stuff; a pillow, a blanket and a change of clothes – the very same sad couch will be your best friend tonight.

he turns on the water and you stand behind the door, longingly staring at the wood, wishing the night had gone differently.

but it didn't. so, you put on your pyjamas and sink into the couch. letting a few last tears fall from your eyes, you try to get some rest.

try.

while you're cocooning yourself away from the world, toji is staring at his own reflection in the foggy mirror. hands splayed on the cold countertop, his head hangs low and the running water turns into a muffled sound in his ears; dark strands of hair fall in front of his exhausted eyes, and he too, can't stop thinking about his own words.

regret fills his veins, threatening to explode under his skin. he can't tear his eyes from the disappearing reflection, the steam covering up more and more of the glass, hiding his guilty stare. his heart beats in morse code, calling out your name with every breath he takes but he's still stuck in this tiny shrinking room while you're out there – in the dark, in the cold, drowning in the impact of his words. he didn't mean them, he didn't. toji squeezes his eyes shut and his head drops to his chest. he thinks about your trembling hands and your shaky voice.

a sigh.

a miserable one.

he drops his towel and stands under the hot water. the warmth takes him in but it's nothing compared to you. the droplets comb through his hair but it's nothing compared to you. they cascade down his scarred shoulders and the muscles of his back, but it's nothing.

compared to you.

the smell of the shampoo makes him want to vomit. your shampoo. his shampoo. he rubs at his scalp and lets the suds drip over his face. he scrubs his body and he wishes he could do it harder. he hopes that you're sleeping well. no, he doesn't. he wants to say goodnight to you.

he tilts his head up towards the shower head and closes his eyes, letting the water run over his neck and his adam's apple, washing away all of the remaining ugly words that might've still been lurking in his throat.

he turns the water off and steps out. only throwing on his sweatpants, he doesn't even bother drying himself off, he just needs... you. he needs to hold you, he needs to hear you. he needs to feel his heartbeat.

one step out of the bathroom and toji can already see the corner of your blanket hanging from the edge of the couch. he fists the material of his pants at his side as he breathes out. it hurts. slowly, he approaches your bundled up body, trying to figure out whether you're already asleep or not. your face is hidden in the pillow, your back facing him and he just wants to see you.

"leave me alone."

it hurts.

his head falls back, his eyes raking over the faint shadows on the ceiling. a car honks on the street below, the wind blows behind your cracked open window. his chest feels heavy, his shoulders hurt.

"why aren't you in bed?"

quiet. you think about not answering. you thought about not talking to him throughout the entire night, but now that he's here... it's harder than you thought.

"because you're mean. and you hurt my feelings." your fingers dig into the pillow under your head. "and i don't want to fucking see you."

his knee cracks when he squats down beside you. his fingers itch to play with the ends of your hair, to pull you into his body and never let you leave.

"well, thank god you can't see anything when yer sleeping then, hm."

he's infuriating. he sounds tired. you want to slap him, you want to push him away. you hate that you can hear strain in his voice. you want him to say that he's sorry. you want to hold him. you want him to show that he cares.

leaving the safe confines of the warm blanket, you whip your head towards him. the light coming from the outside is barely enough to show you his eyes. they're soft, softer than you've ever seen them before. a dark forest; the green circular windows are pleading for you. please, don't be scared of what's inside.

"no arguments for the first two statements?"

you're a inches away from bumping your nose against his, your warm breath hitting his skin as you scoff. the pain is still there, slowly but surely turning into anger but he understands.

"i'm– trying, yeah?"

your eyes flick between his, searching for... something.

"why is your own pride more important than my feelings, toji?"

...

he fucking hates the way you're looking at him. loathes.

you look exhausted too, eyes swollen from all of the crying from before and now there are fresh tears forming in the corners of them.

because of him.

why is his pride more important? it isn't. it isn't, it isn't, it isn't. and yet... silence. something scratches in his throat – it wants to get out but it's hard. a drop rolls over the apple of your cheek and his head falls against your shoulder with a sigh. you don't push him away, you don't invite him in either. why is it so hard for him?

"i just feel like you don't care at all sometimes. when you refuse to apologize – it seems like we're competing against each other but i don't even know what the game is."

your voice is shaky and you're doing your best to come off as composed as you can because you want him to hear you out. you're scared he's going to brush you off. again.

he fiddles with the edge of your blanket, his weight heavy on your body.

"apologizing doesn't make you weak, you know. you're not losing anything – toji, we're not competing over anything. it would simply show that..." you take a big breath in, and let a big one out. "it would show that you do care. that you listen to me, that you want me here."

somebody laughs in the distance. toji smells so good. you close your eyes and focus on what you're about to say.

"it's okay for it to be hard, i don't expect you to spill it right away but it is important to me. i need to know that you're not just dusting away my feelings just because you find them difficult to deal with."

pulling your one hand from under the covers, you let it dig into his wet dark locks. your shampoo, his shampoo.

"but if they are too difficult to deal with..." you trail off, your own thought making more tears fall from the corners of your eyes. he buries his forehead into your body as you play with the hair on the nape of his neck and you feel his fingers digging into your blanket.

"don't say that... fuck– please, don't say that."

"i can't do it like this, toji. i'm not gonna apologize for being emotional. i'm not gonna apologize for being myself, for being alive." you hiccup. "i'm not gonna apologize for not being a brick fucking wall."

"i know, sweetheart, i know."

"do you?"

his teeth sink into his bottom lip and he thinks about your smile. about how your eyes shine in the warm sunlight. how you cling to him even when in your sleep. how you keep ruffling his hair even though he pretends to hate it. how cute you look when you steal his massive sweatshirts. how comforting your voice sounds, how well your hand fits into his. how intently you always listen to him, how you wash his back after a long day at work. how stupid your jokes are. and how much he lo—

...

how much he loves you.

your fingers comb through his hair and you're still coddling him despite the fact that you're upset. and sad, and angry. he thinks about how he doesn't deserve you. how you'd be better off with someone else.

he feels you falter, just a bit, and he knows he's wasting time. you're tired and you want to sleep and you want to feel his love. you want to hear it. and nothing gets to be more important than you. he makes that promise in his head, in his heart.

his sun, his moon, his stars. the smell of coffee in the morning and the feeling of your arms around his waist. his everything.

"i'm..."

fuck.

you turn your body, now fully laying on your back, and pull his head against your chest. he listens to your heartbeat and his hands snake around your middle.

"i love you."

he knows for a fact that you're too good for him.

he hasn't even said it yet but you're determined to let him know how you feel. he knows it's not meant as an encouragement either – you're completely bare before him; honest and straightforward, meagerly waiting for him to do the same. hoping he'll do the same. he's not stupid, he knows your patience is running low but you're still trying. still giving him the chance to do right by you because you want him to do right by you.

he gives you a squeeze, nuzzling his face into chest as if he could somehow reach your ribcage that way. he knows his rough hands have to work overtime to hold your big delicate heart and he's scared.

but your heart is probably scared too, isn't it? wouldn't it be scary to be held by these calloused hands; hands that only know pain and hurt?

this is how it goes. you're both scared and you'll both hold each other. whispering praise into the other's ears, regardless of the fear of getting hurt. trust – it's about trust.

i love you. you make me feel safe. stay with me. let me get that for you. let's shower together. i made you coffee. i want you to come with me. hold my hand. kiss me. hug me. hold me. i want you.

i trust you.

"i'm sorry."

...

muffled, and spoken into your skin – it's enough. it's more than enough for you.

soft, warm hands cradle his jaw and raise his head from your chest. soft, warm eyes hold his gaze and he knows his on the right path.

"fuck–" a shaky laugh; his own emotions are swallowing him whole and you're the only thing holding him up. he watches your lips curl up and relief takes over. he melts into your touch and you guide him to your lips.

you hold him there for a moment – noses touching, breaths mingling together. "thank you."

a bear hug, a high-five, a burst of laughter. an ocean wave – intense, and a lot. freeing. the feeling washes over him and he lets himself sink into you. lips against lips, chests against chests, hearts against hearts; without parting from you, toji climbs onto the couch, resting his entire body on top of yours. you don't complain.

he breathes you in and you do the same. he leans to the right and you do the same. he keeps you close and you do the same. his hand kneads the soft flesh of your waist and your hand rakes through his still wet hair. it feels right. it is right.

toji scrambles to push the blanket from between your bodies, desperate to rid of the barrier that's keeping him from his beloved. his rough hands push your shirt up just enough to feel your skin against his. he sighs into your mouth and he feels you smile against him.

your hands clasp behind his neck, pulling him flush to you and you hook your leg over his hip. latched together, forged together.

"i love you." a murmur, accompanied by a kiss to the corner of your lips. he places another onto the curve of your jaw before hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

you turn your head and press your lips to his forehead. "i love you, too."

he's warm and his arms feel so good around you. he's heavy, borderline crushing you under him but you wouldn't have it any other way. you're also a breath away from falling off the couch but you know he wouldn't let you do that. not today at least.

right now, toji is determined to keep you safely in his arms until one of you is dying of hunger and thirst. absolutely nothing else will make him move – he just might let you piss your pants if it comes to that.

for the sake of love, of course.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I WANT YOU CLOSER, CLOSER EVEN STILL ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; in the midst of a rainshower, you run into your mysterious classmate.

word count; 6.1k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, implied no curses au, fluffy summer vibes, forced proximity (my beloved <3), pining, very shoujo manga coded, vague allusions to sugu having a troubled background, (kind of same w reader), switching povs, gojo slander, stsg implications if you squint (my brand), he’s a sweet sweet boy and i love him :((

a/n; teen sugu reminds me a lot of the kind upperclassman type of otome game li… with secret emotional baggage that makes his route really hard to complete….. anyway i dedicate this fic to hit mobage jujutsu kaisen: phantom parade PLEASE bring sugu home to me please please please ple

geto looks beautiful in the rain. 

it’s an embarrassing first thought to have, as he rounds the corner and comes into view. a black head of hair, making you stop in your tracks, breathe in a gulp of humid air.

you can’t help it, though.

it’s raining. droplets ricochet against the sidewalk in an endless cadence, the sky above you blanketed by gray clouds; enveloping your city in a summery shadow, the scent of hot concrete and blossoming hydrangeas. everything smells of a blistering summer, youth in a bottle cap. tasty on your tongue.

those very same hydrangeas surround him, on all sides, framing his figure like a painting come to life — splotches of colour, flecks of purple and pink and blue, clashing with the gray sky and the black umbrella in his hand. he looks a little disheveled, hair a little frizzy, bangs sticking to his skin. oddly at peace. when his eyes meet yours, you see a flash of recognition — a tiny spark in the amber hue. 

you take that as your cue to move closer. 

he waits for you, always so patient, smiling as you look both ways before crossing the street — shoes hitting the concrete in a steady thud, thud, thud. a splash from the puddle you step in.

you’re in a good mood. veins flooding with sugar and buzzing with joy, raindrops sticking to your skin and the plastic bag in your hand, absently humming along to a song playing through your headphones. your clothes are soaked, but you’re smiling; swinging the bag of treats as you walk. bags of chips, colourful lollipops, bottles of ramune, clinking together for every step you take. enough to last you a couple weeks. in your good mood, you ended up stocking up on your classmates’ favorites — bouncing on the balls of your feet at the thought of giving them away, seeing their satisfied little expressions.

you even got something for gojo. he’ll have to fight for it, obviously, but you look forward to seeing his face light up when he takes a bite of the soft mochi.

(you like giving them things. it’s fun. it makes you feel like a normal high school kid.)

nothing can dampen your spirits right now. the entire world smells of rain, and hydrangeas, and apple blossoms from the backyards behind you. a scent that creeps into your bloodstream, sneaks into your breath. a smile grows on your lips — blooming even brighter when you step into your classmate’s orbit.

”hey!” you chirp, raising a hand up in greeting.

”hey,” geto echoes, voice honeyed and smooth, bringing a hand up to wipe at his forehead. wet from the humid air. ”out on a walk?”

with a smile, you lift the plastic bag, grabbing his attention. clasping it tightly, with your wet fingers. ”just went to get some snacks. you?”

”i wanted to get some fresh air,” he smiles. eyeing you up and down. ”did you forget your umbrella?” 

silently, he takes in your appearance. your breathing is a tiny bit laboured, and the flimsy, oversized hoodie you’re wearing is sticking to your skin. it’s all that protects you from the steady downpour; no umbrella to be seen. you look small, tilting your head up, meeting his gaze. he feels the beginnings of a smile play at his lips. exasperated. all you do is blink, seemingly unbothered, as if you aren’t straight on the road to catching a cold. you can be a little scatterbrained. 

maybe that’s why he can’t help but dote on you.

(that’s what satoru calls it, at least. suguru thinks it’s just called being nice — not like satoru would know anything about that.)

”oh. no, i didn’t forget.” you scratch at the back of your neck. ”just didn’t know it was going to rain.”

the sudden downpour gave you no time to prepare, heavy and abrupt — clouds obscuring the glowing sun in what felt like no more than a second. like someone high above flicked the light switch of the world. all you could do was pull your hood up, try to walk under whatever apple tree you came across. it didn’t help much, though. 

you shift your weight from one foot to the other, soles weighed down with dew. sort of sheepish.

geto chuckles, raspy and soft. the sound makes your heart skip a beat. ”didn’t you see the weather report?”

”well, it… just slipped my mind, i guess.”

silently, you avert your gaze. now you remember — yaga-sensei did mention that, didn’t he? you heard him say it. but you just forgot.

geto is laughing at you, a little, from within his eyes; at least that’s the impression you get. so you continue, eager to defend your honour. 

”it’s fine, though,” you assure him, smiling brightly. a sunny grin. ”i like the rain!”

geto raises an unimpressed brow, but the expression fades away just as swiftly — giving way to something softer. ”you’re heading back to the dorms, right?” he asks, continuing once you give him a slight nod. ”then we can share.”

you blink. one moment passes, then two. but geto only smiles, shifting his umbrella a little, hoping you’ll get the hint. silently beckoning you over. 

it makes you feel oddly flustered.

in truth, you and him aren’t particularly close. he’s nice to you, sure, but geto is nice to everyone. you’d like to call him a friend, but what do you actually know about him? not much. 

suguru geto is a bit of an enigma. a little mysterious. he’s polite, well-mannered, and he seems like the most normal of your classmates — but the bar is in hell, because you know for a fact geto isn’t normal either. no normal guy deliberately chooses to keep his bangs like that. 

there’s a gap, there. a kind of inconsistency. he’s hard to approach, but he puts you at ease. pulls you in and scares you off. with a soft voice and kind smile, keen eyes and a heavy palm on your head. sometimes he brings you snacks when you study in the library, or helps you with homework. kind of like a dependable senpai. someone to lean on.

… but then there’s that gap. 

the real geto, who you’ve only seen glimpses of, only ever in gojo’s vicinity, is boyish and bright — he laughs and pouts and takes up space. he glows brighter than the sun. but the geto you’re seeing, right now, is more like the moon. wearing a polite, patient smile. standing up straight.

waiting for you to join him under his umbrella.

(he’s kind. but is he doing it because wants to, or because he feels obliged to?)

”… oh.” a pause. ”no, it’s fine!” you take a step back, quick to reassure him. ”i can walk there without it! i’m already soaked, anyway.”

geto observes you. for a moment, something in his expression flickers; a crease between his brows.

then he shakes his head. still wearing a comforting smile, the same one he always slips on when he’s around you. ”still. we don’t want you catching a cold,” he persists, sounding something like a nagging mother. ”you’ll miss the exam next week.”

and with that, your shoulders drop. 

right — the exam. the one you haven’t been studying for in the slightest, completely distracted by the feeling of summer in the air. the one you can’t fail, under any circumstances, because yaga-sensei can and will force you to take summer classes ad compensation. that exam. 

a wistful sigh leaves your lips. ”god, i wish.”

geto chuckles — a little deeper than usual. it makes your heart flutter. then he’s beckoning you over, again, with a slight shake of his head. 

”c’mon. there’s enough room for two.”

he gives you that same familiar smile, and you’re forced to admit that you might be slightly weak to it. something about the way his lips tug upwards, the light crinkle of his eyes. a certain glint in them that tells you he’s not budging on the issue. 

you’re still a little hesitant. but…

(this is a chance, isn’t it? a chance to bridge that gap between you.)

silently, shyly, you join him under his umbrella. shielding you from the still falling rain.

pitter patter, pitter patter. you don’t know where the rain ends and your own heartbeat begins. he’s so close — your shoulders nearly brushing together. it makes your nerves bubble up, in rhythm with the droplets bouncing off the cover up above. you feel stiff. the tiny, miniscule gap between you feels like a sweltering stove, radiating a heat that warns you to stay away. as if his touch could burn you. like this, you can even smell him; fresh laundry, an earthy cologne. the slightest hint of caffeine and tobacco. you blame it on shoko — the whole dormitory smells of cigarettes, thanks to her. 

it’s comforting, though. his scent. blending together with the aroma of rain, wet earth, blooming flowers. with his fragrance smoothing over all your senses, the closeness between you a constant reminder of the situation you’re in, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. 

all you do is murmur out a quick thanks, as you begin to walk, in tandem.

geto can’t help but steal a glance at you, out of the corner of his eye. you look a little meek, a little flustered. he hopes the narrow distance between you isn’t making you feel too uncomfortable. 

just to be sure, he angles his body away from yours. ever so slightly, one subtle step away, to make the gap a little wider. then, as discreetly as he can manage, he tilts the umbrella in your direction — not wanting the never-ending drops of rain to graze your skin. he can feel them, now, soaking through the material of his shirt, hitting his shoulder. but he doesn’t mind. to his relief, you don’t seem to notice. he’s pretty sure you’d protest; and as enjoyable as another friendly squabble would be, he’d prefer to avoid it for now.

you’re nice. accommodating, he thinks, in a subtle kind of way. always showing up with trinkets after your little outings, offering to get everyone a drink on your way to the vending machines. you’re friendly with the other two; always nagging at shoko to stop smoking, even when she just rolls her eyes and calls you a goody two shoes. recently, you’ve even started to be patient with satoru, even when he tries to get a rise out of you. it wasn’t like that at the start of the year. geto wonders what changed. 

he’s a little interested in you. just a little. you’re sweeter than the other two, easier to worry over. he saw you trip over your own shoelaces last week. you’re a little clumsy, a bit of a ditz — airheaded. maybe that’s why he can’t help but feel protective of you. satoru brushes everything off with a cheeky grin, and shoko is self-sustaining, but you’re often in need of a helping hand. the last time he tried that with the other two, they wouldn’t stop calling him mother geto until he smacked them over the head with satoru’s shounen jump issue. 

it makes him feel out of place — when he doesn’t have anything to tend to. itchy, a feeling of dread crawling up his throat. peace and quiet feels suffocating, when he isn’t in total control over it.

so, in his own way, small as it may be, geto enjoys taking care of you. grabbing you a carton of strawberry milk, or warding satoru away when he’s annoying you a little too much. he likes the smile you grace him with when he does. it’s pretty. and it’s all geto really knows about you — that, and that there’s a tenderness to you that’s hard to fake. it’s not much to go on.

so this is the perfect opportunity to learn more. 

(a heartfelt connection. something he’s always, always craved. something that maybe he can finally have, with satoru, and shoko, and you — 

if you’re willing, that is.)

”hey,” he starts, breaking the rainfilled silence. keeping his umbrella steady, leading you both away from a big puddle in the middle of the sidewalk. ”can i ask you something?”

you raise your head to look at him. blinking owlishly, at the sudden question, nerves beginning to rise again. he sounds kind of serious. did you do something? paranoia gnaws anxiously at the ridges of your ribs, but all you can do is swallow empty air and stammer out a meek reply.

”… uh, sure!”

geto glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours. that gaze of his is kind of heavy — the deep colour of his eyes coaxing you closer, luring you in. honey and amber, splotches of cedar and flecks of gold.

they’re pretty.

”this might be kind of a weird question,” he begins, reaching a hand up to adjust his bun, sneaking a finger under the black hair tie. voice light; to put you at ease. ”but i’m just curious.” 

he looks ahead, at the street before you, only meeting your stare once you give him a slight tilt of your head. then he parts his lips.

”why did you come here?”

you blink. 

silently, confusion painting the interior of your iris, you stare at him. waiting for a clarification that doesn’t come, before giving him a hesitant answer. ”… to get snacks?”

geto has the audacity to laugh, after such a vague question. the sound is light and breathy, melting together with the pitter patter of the rain, and for some reason it strikes you as sincere. ”not like that,” he grins. ”i mean, why did you come to the school in the first place?”

ah. 

that’s a different question. harder to answer. he must notice your hesitance, the puzzlement in your features, because he’s quick to elaborate. hiding a smile behind his fist, disguised as a cough.

(you’re sort of cute when you’re confused.)

”i mean — it’s an odd choice, isn’t it? far off the map, barely any students....” you nod along, and he continues. ”i don’t know about your background. but moving away from home must be kind of tough, right?” when he glances in your direction, you notice a sparkle of genuine curiosity in his eyes. ”so i was curious about your reason. if you feel comfortable telling me, i mean.”

a hum. it buzzes in your throat, absentminded, as you stare into space. brows furrowed. 

geto gives you time, as much time as you need, always willing to wait. for a minute or so, the only sounds that fill the space around you are the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the plastic cover of umbrella, and the sound of your shoes meeting puddles on the street. silently, you ponder the question. thinking of your answer.

geto has a point. you’ve been curious, too — about how your classmates ended up in such an eccentric little school, so detached from the rest of the world. a quirky private school in the middle of nowhere. you must all be a little eccentric yourselves. that’s probably why you feel so safe with them — you get the sense that you’re all lacking something. something that would ward normal kids away from such an unorthodox choice.

you could say you were just going with the flow. a relative of yours used to work with yaga-sensei, and heard about his position at a newly reinstated private school — heard that he was looking for students to fill the roster. 

so you accepted.

(if it was really that simple, geto would already have his answer.)

what drew you in, more than anything, was the promise of something new. a strange, small school, far away from home; from the people you know, the town you know, the life that you’ve lived. far away from the person you are, the person you was, the person you’ve always been.

an escape. that’s all it was. 

a way out.

he’s still waiting for your answer, even now, trying to read your thoughts off your face. eyes trailing over every contour. very briefly, you consider dodging the question — but his silent, steady presence squeezes a little honesty out of you. 

you want to give him a genuine answer.

”… i guess,” you begin, weighing the words on your tongue. they feel stale, a little awkward, but not dishonest. ”i wanted to stop being me for a bit.” 

the words are unexpected, surprising even to your own ears — like your mouth and your mind weren’t quite cooperating, one ahead of the other, one not weighing in on the honest choice. they catch geto off guard. 

he looks at you, silently, attempts to dissect your expression; but he doesn’t succeed. 

for a second, something flashes in his eyes. a glimmer that you just barely catch, that you can still sense behind his eyelids when they flutter shut. you’re not sure what to call it. recognition, maybe, or something like empathy. a sense of acknowledgement. it’s gone when he opens his eyes. 

he doesn’t look at you when he answers.

”… i get that.”

there’s a depth to his words that you’re afraid to uncover. you feel their weight, all the same, glancing up at him, studying his expression, the humid drops of dew that stick to his lashes. and you feel a tug. faint, non-existent, the string between your pinkies —

a growing connection. 

(it makes you feel oddly bare.)

all you can give him is a chuckle, a little breathless. ”do you?” you ask, grinning weakly. ”it’s a little melodramatic.”

geto only smiles. silent, comfort personified. there’s no judgement in his eyes, none whatsoever — because he knows exactly what you mean.

fleeing from the past. 

it’s a kind of murder, he thinks. a rebirth.

maybe the two of you are similar. similar in the sense that he recognizes the shadow in your eyes, the one he sometimes sees in mirrors; familiar in the sense that you both suffer from that same sickening awareness. 

(maybe you want the same thing he wants, what he’s always wanted — 

control.)

it’s a realization that creeps up on you, the both of you, slow and steady. a sense of kinship. it envelops you, cradles you close, in the same way molten clouds cover the summer sky.

geto isn’t lying, you can tell. he does get it. you know, just from that tilt of his voice, the way his eyelashes flutter, his absent shifting from one foot to another. and it soothes your worries.

everything is silent, for a bit. you look down at the asphalt, at your own reflection in a puddle, and geto gazes at the bushes of hydrangeas to his right. you feel safe, right next to him, under his umbrella. and he feels content to have you there. your shoulders brush together, for a moment, and it sends a jolt through your heartbeat.

geto inhales a breath.

”by the way —” 

”— have you studied for the exam?”

you both still. blurting out the words at the same time, turning to look at each other; sheepishly blinking in the other’s direction.

then he barks out a laugh.

”sorry,” he hums, a sleek smile on his lips. bright and sheepish. ”what was that? the exam?”

”ah — yeah,” you feel heat settle on the back of your neck, crawling up your ears. ”have you, um, studied for it at all?”

geto moves the umbrella from one arm to the other, smoothly directing you to stand on his right instead of his left. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, ghosting the fabric of your clothing. he stretches his free arm, a little stiff.

”yeah,” he exhales. ”not a lot, though.”

”really?” you blink up at him, trying not to blush at how easily he maneuvered you. stupid, stupid heartbeat. ”you strike me as the honour student type…”

geto scoffs. it leaves his lips before he can tug it back. ”satoru said the same thing.”

a breath spills from your lips, almost a chuckle. you’re not sure how to feel about being compared to gojo, of all people, but you’ll let it slide this once. ”well, you just kinda have that vibe.”

now he’s huffing, tethering on the edge of something childish, and your smile grows. you’re seeing him make a lot of new expressions today. 

”why, though?” comes a sigh. he must be playing it up, a little — you almost get fooled into thinking he’s pouting. ”is it the hair? i don’t even wear glasses anymore...”

”well —” you pause. ”hold on, you used to wear glasses?”

all you get is an absent hum. he doesn’t notice your wide, shellshocked eyes. ”when i was younger. i got rid of them a couple years back.”

“oh…” you try to imagine it, for a second. he’d look frighteningly good in them. just barely, you manage to keep yourself from saying it out loud. ”i think it’s more just your general personality. like, you’re responsible and polite… or something.”

and geto chuckles; the intersection between a teasing smile and a soft grin. it’s just a little bit ethereal, painted over with the humid summer air. he turns towards you.

”and that makes me an honour student?” 

”… okay, maybe not.” you bring a hand up to your hair, fixing it absently. deflating a little. ”you just strike me as intelligent, i guess.”

geto smiles, again, as always. the chuckle that escapes him is faint and fond, and awfully soft, dripping down his lips. ”well, thank you.” 

his eyes are warm, burning into yours. all you can do is glance away. you still don’t really understand this sensation — why he’s suddenly so easy to talk to. why he feels like something other than just a classmate, when he looks at you like that. 

then again, geto has always been a natural at putting people at ease. maybe that’s why you can’t help but warm up to him, compliantly, the way a child dutifully follows the first butterfly they ever see — it’s a little too pretty to resist. 

you want to slip deeper into his world, you realize. you don’t want this moment to end so soon.

”you guys really get along, huh?” you change the subject, speaking slowly, savouring every syllable. there isn’t any rush to get the words out all at once, when you’re with him. 

geto blinks, tilting his head. 

”hm?”

“you and gojo, i mean.”

a glimmer passes through his eyes, as your query sinks in. ”ah. yeah.” his gaze strays upwards, and a contemplative look settles into his face. he knows what you’re after, what you’re really asking; why are the two of you so close? why do you put up with his antics? 

what do you see in him? 

he thinks it’s a fair question. it’s not like he hasn’t asked himself the very same thing, before — satoru can be annoying. ignorant, too, and terribly rude. a little prick. when he stole his curry bun yesterday, geto wanted to kill him. spoiled little brat.

(then again, he’s…)

”he’s… well.” geto exhales, a little breathless. tasting the words on his tongue. ”you know how he is — but he’s not a bad guy.” 

and it’s true. he really isn’t. satoru is a lot of things; rude and spoiled, cocky and bratty, an expert at ticking everyone off. but there’s a kind of charm, there. an innocence that geto admires. 

satoru is childish — because he is a child. a child who knows a lot of things that children shouldn’t know. a child who doesn’t know the most basic of things. satoru doesn’t know how to make friends. he doesn’t know how to ask for help, doesn’t know how to give it. he doesn’t know what cotton candy tastes like, because he’s never tried it before. 

his childhood couldn't have been very warm. it definitely wasn’t normal. 

is that why he puts up with him, then? out of pity? of course not. the bare thought of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. he’d never look down on satoru, like that — and he knows he’d hate him for it. if anything, geto thinks that maybe the two of them are close because he doesn’t give him any special treatment. even if satoru wasn’t treated with warmth or love, he was certainly coddled. spoiled. it’s evident, in the way that he acts.

but satoru isn’t a god, and he shouldn’t act like one. 

one punch, right across the face; knocking the white-haired boy off his feet. that’s where their friendship began. there were stars in satoru’s eyes, geto thinks, when he looked up at him from the ground. sunglasses fallen off from the impact, blue eyes entirely on display, catching the light of the sun — gleaming with a certain bewilderment. almost amazement. like he didn’t know he could be hit, didn’t know it was possible. the sun shone down on him, illuminating the vague bruising on his cheek, and geto wondered if that was the first punch the boy had ever taken.

it certainly wasn’t a first for him, when satoru lunged at him next —

it was a little juvenile. more than a little deranged. geto isn’t one to throw fists, in the first place — he’s out of practice. the punch he fed satoru might’ve been a little too forceful. he couldn’t help but feel bad, every so slightly, for putting a bruise on that irritatingly pretty face of his. 

but it still ended with satoru’s arm around his shoulder, a buzzing voice by his ear, proclaiming them as friends. cheery and bright.

geto couldn’t help but echo the statement.

(satoru is a lot of things. 

most of all, he’s really hard to hate.)

geto’s answer brings a smile to your face. ”yeah,” you hum, soft voice breaking him out of his reverie. ”he isn’t.”

he looks at you. silently, a question of his own brewing in his irises — and with you so close, close enough to touch, smiling at him like he’s an old friend… geto can’t help but indulge in his own curiosity. 

he tries to appear nonchalant, stealing a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. ”seems like the two of you are getting along better, too.” 

”me and gojo?” you blink, surprised. a little flustered. huffing out an amused breath, trying to brush off the bare thought. ”no way.”

geto laughs — it’s a deep sound, a full one. somehow very earnest. you wonder if that’s how his laugh always sounds, whenever gojo’s involved. ”oh, come on. you don’t hate him that much.” a teasing glint blooms in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you. ”or am i wrong?”

you pause. faltering, a little, gaze falling down to the pavement — then to the sky — then to him. and then back to the pavement. 

”… i mean…” you attempt to squeeze the words out from within your chest, but you can’t help but feel hesitant. as if gojo could jump out of the bushes at any moment, ready to tease you if you say anything that paints him in an even moderately decent light. ”i don’t… hate him. but he’s still annoying.” a pout slips onto your lips. “he has it out for me, you know.”

geto laughs, again. you note that you’re fond of the sound. ”isn’t that because he likes you, though? he just doesn’t know how to show it. it’s like pulling pigtails.”

”don’t even joke about that,” you scoff, shooting him a scowl. “and that wouldn’t make it any better, even if it was true.”

a fond smile. ”yeah, you’re right.” he opts to dial down on the teasing, shifting into a more sincere tone. ”you do seem more friendly now, though. before it felt like you really hated his guts.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. brows furrowing, as you mull on what to answer with. unsure how you really feel. it’s not like you’re suddenly super close, or anything — but you have gotten friendlier. just by a smidge, but still. you’ve gotten better at putting up with him and his antics, at finding comfort in how open he can be.

after a tiny pause, you speak up. 

”… i still don’t really understand him.” you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip, trapping it between your teeth. “but i think i might be starting to.” 

you’re a little embarrassed over the words that fall from your lips, barely above a whisper. 

”… he’s not the worst.”

geto smiles, but you don’t see it — gaze still lingering on the droplets that bounce off the pavement. ”i’m glad,” he hums, earnest. ”that guy needs more friends.”

something about his tone of voice urges you to look at him. that smile of his is bright, gleaming in the rain, in the midst of the flowers all around you. a little teasing, a little boyish, but somehow very sincere. you didn’t think you’d get to see it up close.

and you can’t help but chuckle. the raven-haired boy glances over at you, confusion in his eyes.

noticing it, you breathe out a quiet chuckle. ”sorry, it’s just —” a teasing grin smooths over your lips. ”you guys bicker a lot, and you act like he annoys you… but you really care for him, don’t you?”

this time, geto almost stops in his tracks. his eyes widen, slightly, and you’re not sure why he seems surprised — when he always sounds so fond saying satoru’s name, talking about him like they understand each other fully. maybe he didn’t notice it until now. 

a moment passes, before he collects himself, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. awfully good at keeping his composure. 

(though he fails to fully conceal the flustered look on his face.)

”i wouldn’t go that far,” he mumbles, but it only makes you chuckle again. his lips curl up slightly, at the sound; despite his embarrassment. ”someone’s gotta look out for that idiot.”

”right. of course.”

geto gives you a displeased little look. you bite back a laugh. feeling at ease, by his side — you get the sense that you can trust him, that you could tell him absolutely anything, and he still wouldn't use it against you. it’s a relief.

standing there, under geto’s umbrella, in the shadow of summer, rain obscuring the world — you reach a definitive conclusion.

you want to get to know him. want to see inside his heart, hear more of his thoughts. if you could only step over that gap between you, wriggle your way into his world — 

you think you’d be happy.

so, as you walk side by side, narrowly avoiding puddles and breathing in the humid summer air, you try to coax them out of him. little thoughts, bits and pieces of the suguru geto you yearn to meet.

(unbeknownst to you, he’s doing the same.)

you continue to talk. about miniscule things, meaningless things, a comfortable sensation of trust simmering in the air between you. and before you know it, you’ve stepped onto the school grounds, stopping right in front of the dormitory.

”here we are,” geto hums, folding the umbrella and tucking it between his arm and torso. you turn to look him in the eye, taking an absent step away.

”thanks, geto,” you can’t help but smile. ”for letting me walk with you.”

”don’t mention it.” he brushes you off with ease, quick to drag the door open; waiting for you to step inside before following suit. always so accommodating. 

for a second, he hesitates. a glimmer of uncertainty, in his eyes, that you miss — stretching out your tired limbs with a shallow groan, enjoying the warm and dry air on your skin. 

finally, geto takes the leap.

when he parts his lips, his voice comes out soothing. natural and breathy, floral patterns blooming on his tongue; as silky as jasmine petals. ”you can call me suguru, you know.” he lets the silence linger, for a moment. ”if you want to.”

you turn to look at him, eyes widening, at the sudden offer, and he can’t get a good read on the emotion reflected in them. you seem caught off guard, but he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

after a moment or two, you fumble for a response. 

”oh. um — okay? i will, then.” you shake your head, as if brushing off the hesitance you feel, mustering the courage to imitate his offer. ”in that case, you can call me by my first name, too.” 

a brief pause. 

”… if you want to.”

geto smiles. it’s laced with relief, hard to notice, impossible to miss. instead of answering with an affirmation, he takes a more teasing approach — unable to resist the temptation.

so he says your name. your first name, dragging the syllables out on his tongue, as if tasting it. trying to get used to the way the letters bend as they come out of his mouth. despite the teasing lilt it carries, the sound is oddly earnest; he pronounces it clearly, like he’s trying to call you to his side. you almost feel compelled to take a step towards him. 

geto looks you in the eye, as he calls you by your given name, for the very first time — and you can’t help but grow flustered.

”… suguru,” you echo, for whatever reason. you think your brain may be slightly fried. but it feels right, to say it. suguru. 

(what a pretty name.)

suguru smiles at you. you think it’s just a little wider than usual, a little more sincere. almost giddy, if you squint. in the open air, the intimate atmosphere simmers.

finally, you clear your throat, glancing in the direction of your dorm room. a silent que for him to follow.

and he does. leaving the umbrella by the hall, before walking you to your door. his steady, soothing presence sticking to your skin. you’re just about to place your fingers on the doorknob, when a pang of realization hits you — stopping you in your tracks.

”oh — right!”

swiftly, you turn on your heel, facing suguru again. he gazes down at you, bemusement in his eyes. watching as you rummage through the plastic bag hanging off your arm. finally, you find what you were looking for; holding it out towards him. 

”here,” you give him a warm smile. ”as thanks.”

suguru accepts it, compliantly, allowing you to slip a pack of gum into his palm. he recognizes the brand, one he favours over others. it helps him, on days he can’t find his appetite. 

did you see him chewing it at some point, he wonders? when, though? 

maybe you’re always paying attention to the people around you. the way they like their coffee, their favoured flavour of gum. it may be a small kindness, an absentminded one, but suguru thinks that makes it all the more meaningful. a kindness that seeps out of you, that draws him in. 

he wants to know more, about you. he really does.

but for now, this is enough. a walk back to your dorm, your shared home, talking and growing closer than before. 

it’s a small step, but in the right direction. 

the pack of gum stirs a mellow, tender feeling in his chest. all he can do is give you a smile, and a thank you that you’re quick to brush off. then you say your goodbyes, and you close the door behind you — flopping down on your bed with a muffled squeal. a giddy kind of excitement swimming in your veins. because finally, finally, you feel like the gap between you has been dented.

you know what his real laugh sounds like. that the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed. you know that he used to wear glasses, that you’re a little more similar than either of you could have assumed.

you know that you’re fond of him. fond of a boy with black hair, who smells of summer and rain and chewing gum. fond of a boy you’ve only scratched the surface of.

on the other side of the door, suguru walks back to his room. with a pep in his step, one that satoru notices — because of course he does — appearing from around the corner with a shit-eating grin.

“oh? what were you doing over there, suguru?”

suguru ignores him. popping a piece of the gum you gave him into his mouth, a flavour of apricot melting on his tongue — he sinks his teeth into it, slowly, feeling his lips curl up into a smile.

it tastes of summer and youth. a memory that both of you will savour, for many years to come.

[likeumeanit9497]

you jealous? pt. 2 | c.s. & m.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader x matt sturniolo

read pt. 1 here <3

summary: y/n hasn't quite figured out how to share, but sure as hell wants matt to learn.

warnings: NO THREESOME; smut; unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); fingering; dirty talk; all 3 of these mfs are toxic af tbh; choking; SEVERE lack of girl code (booooooo); 18+

notes: omg i have wanted to write a pt. 2 for SO LONG but genuinely could not figure out a way to write it without making it a threesome (not yucking anyone's yum here i just physically recoil any time i've tried writing that stuff) (i do eat it up when other ppl write it tbh). anyways i finally sat down and forced myself to come up with a plot bc this has been hands down my most requested pt 2 of any of my work and my sole purpose on this earth is to please. sooo i hope u all enjoy reading this absolute freak show love u alllllll <333

oh yeah btw this is 7,322 words dkm

“Fuck Chris, keep going.” I whined, digging my nails into his bare shoulders and tightening my legs around his waist as he drove his cock into me relentlessly. His dimly lit room was hot and provocative, filled with the erotic sounds of our bodies slapping against each other. “Mmm baby, you f-feel so good.” Chris groaned, his curly brown hair feathering across my cheek as he buried his face in my shoulder; sinking his teeth into my delicate skin cruelly. I felt a bead of sweat drip down my temple as Chris’s rhythm began to grow sloppier. “You want my cum, pretty girl?” His crude words made my stomach tense as he breathed them against my skin. Wrapping my legs even tighter around his rolling hips, I nodded my head despairingly. “G-god, yes!” I cried out, running my hands through his damp hair.

I let out a sharp moan as Chris brought his thumb to my clit and began rubbing it in rhythmic circles. My body was set on fire, not far from my own orgasm as I felt his cock begin to swell inside of me. “I-I’m close.” I breathed, my jaw slack as I began to lose myself to the pleasure coursing through my veins. My senses began to fail me. Chris’s room suddenly became a black hole. I could no longer feel the soft mattress beneath me or hear the music playing from the tv. As I grew closer and closer to my orgasm, the only sensation that I was able to comprehend was the feeling of Chris’s heavy body pinning me down as his cock slid through my trembling walls. I released a sharp, desperate moan as I felt the rubber band in my stomach grow tense; so close to snapping. All I needed were just a few more sloppy thrusts from Chris, a few more circles against my bundle of nerves and I—

“Shut the fuck up sickos!” I gasped as Chris stilled above me, the sound of my best friend’s bellowing voice and a harsh knock on Chris’s bedroom door pulling us out of our trance. “Y’all need to hurry up, we’re leaving for dinner in 20 minutes!” Nick shouted through the door. Chewing on my bottom lip to stifle a laugh, I looked up at Chris in disappointment. His heaving chest was rising and falling as he smirked down at me, before leaning down and playfully biting my nose. I grabbed onto his forearms — each one confining me underneath him — and tried to gently push him off of me with a sigh.

“We should probably get ready, Chris.” I admitted, feeling the disappointment radiate through my unsatisfied body in ripples. As I attempted to adjust my body, I felt the remnants of my nearly-there orgasm in the pulse of my core around his thick shaft. Before I could make any real progress in climbing off of the bed, Chris paralyzed me with one sharp snap of his hips. I gasped, unable to deny my need to cum, as he snaked his hand to the back of my head and laced his fingers through my roots; keeping me in place. His eyes were still glossed over with desire, and he licked his smirking lips before he spoke. “We will, just as soon as we cum.”

𓆩☆𓆪

After hurriedly getting dressed and fixing my makeup, I climbed up the basement stairs on wobbly legs with Chris just behind me. Tugging down my short black dress, I walked into the kitchen and found Nick leaning against the counter with a knowing look in his eye. “You look a mess.” Nick deadpanned, rolling his eyes at me. I felt my cheeks grow red under his playful glare, avoiding eye contact as Chris chuckled behind me. “You’re weird as fuck for even walking downstairs to begin with kid.” Chris snarked back, draping his arm lazily across my shoulders. Nick scoffed. “Sue me for wanting to be on time for our reservation, dumbass.” I stifled a laugh listening to their flying insults. “Maybe if you figured out how to go five minutes without sticking your dick in my best friend you would have seen one of my many texts, and we could have avoided all of this.”

Although I had been trying to hide the fact that Chris and I had been sleeping together from Nick, I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t felt a flood of relief when he had ended up catching us on the couch together a few weeks ago; me with my face pressed into the cushions and Chris lining himself up behind me. Nick had been more than a little pissed at first — likely due to the crude imagery of us burned into his retinas — but after a long, honest conversation filled with more than a few vile insults thrown our way, he calmed down tremendously. Since then, he had seen enough of Chris and I slipping away to the basement that he really didn’t seem bothered by it anymore. I had felt guilty about keeping such a big secret from my best friend, but he seemed to understand why I had.

One thing I still hadn’t told him, however, was what had happened the night of their last party. What he didn’t know was that Chris wasn’t his only brother who had kissed me, touched me, slid himself in between my thighs. Wasn’t his only brother who ran his soft lips against my warm skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his path. Wasn’t his only brother who had whispered filthy words in my ear; who had made me cum so hard that I dissolved into a puddle. Chris wasn’t his only brother who had fucked me, and it was crazy, because I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about any of that since Matt slipped out of his dark room that night.

As if reading my mind, I was pulled from my dirty thoughts by the sound of Matt’s door creaking open. Looking up from my shoes, my eyes immediately locked onto his; twinkling in odd amusement as he seemed to examine my appearance. He walked into the kitchen casually, sliding into a seat at the table before pulling his phone from his pocket. Nick walked up behind him and fixed the back of his hair. “Did you hear how loud these fucking losers were?” He asked Matt. I watched as Matt’s shoulders seemed to tense up before he shook his head wordlessly. To this, Nick groaned. “Then I guess I’m just the lucky one.”

My eyes were glued to Matt’s profile as he seemed to aimlessly scroll on his phone, his body language seemed fairly relaxed but I could see the tense muscles in his flexed jaw. “Uh, anyways,” I began, pulling my attention back to the rest of the room, “We ready to head out?” I looked up at Chris and shot him a quick smile. “Soon,” Matt replied, looking up from his phone and directly at me; his eyes shining with provocation, “Sophie will be here any minute.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Matt hoisted himself from the chair and sauntered over to answer it. From where I stood frozen in shock, I heard Sophie’s familiar voice as she greeted Matt, and cringed when I heard the unmistakable sound of them kissing. After a moment, Sophie breezed up the stairs and into the kitchen where we were all still congregated, her sweet-smelling perfume preceding her as she air-kissed first Nick and then Chris. With a smirk, Matt walked up behind her. “Y/n, you remember Sophie, right?”

Even with my racing heart and heavy limbs I ignored his jeering tone, unwilling to give him the reaction that he so clearly desired. “Of course!” I replied, internally cringing at the high pitched faux-excitement in my own voice. “You’re coming to dinner!” I did my best to sound pleased, but by the look Matt gave me outside of Sophie’s view, I knew that I hadn’t convinced him.

Sophie had been an on-and-off again fuck buddy of Matt’s for a few months. She and I actually got along really well, and we spent a lot of time together at parties before the night that Matt and I fucked. When Chris and I began freely hooking up, I was always worried that she and I would cross paths on the nights that I slept over, but it had seemed that Matt and her hadn’t been spending any time together for weeks. Now that they seemed to be back on again, I couldn’t shove down the red hot jealously burning in my veins.

Sophie giggled, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder. “They didn’t tell you, I presume. I should have just texted you myself, can’t trust these guys to relay information.” She sidled up to Matt as she spoke, wrapping her arm around his waist possessively. Nick scoffed. “I would have told her if she ever left her and Chris’s sex dungeon.” I blushed from Nick once again sharing my business with everyone in his general vicinity, and watched as Matt quickly grabbed Sophie’s arm, pulling it from his waist. “We’re gonna be late, let’s go.” He mumbled, holding onto Sophie’s hand haphazardly as he began leading us to the garage.

As we reached the car, I watched as Matt opened the passenger door for Sophie before getting into the driver’s seat. As Chris opened the door for me, I grabbed his arm and gave it a soft squeeze. “Sit in the back with me?” I asked, looking up at him with doe eyes and adding a whisper of seduction to my voice. He looked down at me with a smirk, arching his eyebrow before following me into the back seat of the car.

I settled into the seat beside him as Matt began pulling out of the garage. It was dark outside, so as I looked up at Chris, all I could see was the burred outline of his gorgeous features. “You okay pretty?” He asked, his voice low as he looked down at me with slight concern. I nodded reassuringly, realizing that I needed to get my act together because even Chris, the most oblivious of the triplets, was picking up on my sudden strange mood. “Just hungry.” I lied, shooting him a forced smile. The car filled with the sound of Nick and Sophie’s laughter as Matt drove. “Oh my god! Matt was telling me…”

I forced myself to tune out the conversation that was happening at the front of the car, willing the night to be over so that I could seethe with jealousy in private. As I tried to absolve my embarrassing bitterness, my eyes fluttered to the rearview mirror, where I caught Matt’s vision already burning into mine. My breath hitched under his intimidating gaze, and even in my growing anger with him I couldn’t ignore the pit of arousal that I felt growing in my core. I knew that he was trying to get some sort of reaction out of me — wanted me to feel the way I was feeling. He had been purposely trying to make me jealous, so I decided that I would do the same.

Keeping my eyes on his, I lifted my leg and draped it across Chris’s lap; causing my short black dress to hitch up to my hips. As if reacting on instinct, Chris immediately responded by bringing his hand to my bare skin, exploring it for a moment before finally leaving it to rest on my upper thigh; just inches from my exposed lace panties. I watched Matt’s gaze darken as his eyes followed his brother’s movements against my skin, and I shot him a menacing smirk before dropping my own hand onto the crotch of Chris’s jeans.

Matt’s eyes widened briefly as he watched my hand delicately run along Chris’s growing bulge, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. Even in the dim light, I could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, doing his best to focus on the road despite all of the thoughts that I knew were racing through his head. My gaze was pulled from Matt as I felt Chris’s warm mouth against my ear. “Didn’t get enough earlier, baby?” He whispered, nibbling delicately against my soft earlobe. His hand moved even higher along my leg, until his fingers reached my barely-covered heat. Satisfied with the reaction that I was getting from Matt as well as the feeling of Chris’s fingers gently dancing against my core, I felt my anger begin to diminish and instead be replaced with burning desire.

Turning to face Chris, I placed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his sharp jawline, causing him to grab onto my hip and pull me so close to him that I was practically on his lap. His hand laced through my hair and he jerked my head up before attaching his lips to mine. I palmed him roughly through his jeans as his tongue slipped into my mouth, and even with my back turned I could still feel Matt’s fiery gaze burn my skin.

“Oh my GOD! Get off of each other!” Nick shrieked, turning to face Chris and I in the backseat. “I swear to fucking god I will punch you both in the mouth.” Chris pulled his lips from mine, a goofy smile taking over his face. “You’re such a fuckin’ spazz Nick.” He retorted as he tried to pull my dress down slightly. Nick replied by burying his face in his hands and screaming dramatically. “A SPAZZ? You were swallowing my best friend’s face in DIRECT EARSHOT from me! You’re lucky I didn’t just projectile vomit on you.” Nick retaliated, smacking the leather seat as he spoke.

“We’re here.” Matt deadpanned, stopping the argument between his two brothers as he parked his car. I looked up at him once more through the mirror, but this time his eyes refused to meet mine. Once parked, Matt turned off the ignition sharply, his jaw clenched, before immediately jumping out of the car as if it was on fire. I noticed the slightly concerned look on Sophie’s face before she tentatively followed him.

Feeling surprisingly giddy, I crawled out of the back seat and hopped out of the car; embracing the cool breeze against my burning hot cheeks. “Let’s eat!” I exclaimed as Chris climbed out after me and pulled me harshly against his front; bringing his lips to mine again. As he kissed me, I listened as the rest of our group began walking in the direction of the restaurant. His hands moved from my waist down to my ass, where he squeezed gently before pulling his mouth from mine just enough to speak. “I know what you’re doing, Y/n.” He whispered against my lips.

Feigning innocence, I looked up at him through my eyelashes as I waited for him to continue. “What, one night with Matt wasn’t enough for you?” He asked, his gentle voice laced with amusement as his hand snaked up my dress, finding my clit through my lace thong and rubbing soft circles against it. Nibbling on my bottom lip, I shook my head no. Chris smirked at my admission, and his eyes filled with an indecipherable look that made goosebumps raise on my skin. “It’s okay baby, you know I don’t mind.” He replied, his encouraging words and working fingers making my stomach tie itself into knots. Running his middle finger through my soaked folds, he shot me a charming smile. “I’ve already showed you how well I can share.”

With that, he gave my ass a sharp slap before placing one final kiss to my nose. Using his grip on my flesh, he guided me in the direction of the restaurant where everyone was waiting for us in front of the doors. My head spun from the notion that Chris was so willing to let me have exactly what I wanted, which coincidentally was both him and his brother. I practically floated in the direction of the restaurant, riding the high that his words gave me, until I noticed Matt pressed against Sophie, peppering her with kisses.

Matt’s eyes lifted as he heard Chris and I approach and, upon noticing Chris’s arm draped around my waist, appeared to deliberately deepen the kiss he was sharing with Sophie. I watched as she giggled against his lips, seeming to still be oblivious to the unspoken battle playing out before her. Doing my best to seem care-free, I let Chris guide me into the restaurant and to our table. I sat down with Chris to my left and Nick to my right, while Matt and Sophie sat across from us.

As the waiter set down menus in front of each of us, Matt’s eyes briefly locked with mine across the table. I watched as he seemed to be studying the dynamic between me and Chris. His eyes traveled from Chris’s long arm that was draped over the back of my chair to his fingers lazily drawing circles against my exposed shoulder. Sitting much closer and under a much brighter light, I suddenly felt deeply exposed in the restaurant with Matt’s eyes on me. I did my best to ignore him, keeping my sight on the menu in front of me as I listened to Chris, Nick, and Sophie’s chatter.

As I continued to study the menu, I could see Matt pull Sophie’s chair closer to him in my peripheral vision. Swallowing harshly, I used all of my strength to keep my eyes trained to the blurred words in front of me instead of focusing them on Matt’s hand grabbing onto Sophie’s upper thigh. Feeling overwhelmed with conflicting desires, I wanted nothing more than to sink into my chair and disappear from the restaurant. Every time I saw Matt move closer to Sophie or heard them speaking to one another in hushed tones I felt flushed with anger, yet my core flooded with arousal as it flexed around nothing.

The waiter came to begin taking our order. Once it was my turn and everyone’s attention was on me, I suddenly felt the all-consuming need to get away from the table; sure that if any one of them looked at me hard enough, they would be able to pick up on my unspeakable desire. Unable to take it anymore, I suddenly shot up from my seat. “Uh, I — Chris, just order me, uh, order me whatever. I’ve just gotta, um, run to the washroom!” I stammered, taking off in the direction of the restrooms before anyone had the chance to reply.

My head spun as I walked calmly towards the hallway leading to the washrooms, sure that once I took a few moments to collect myself that I would be okay to go back out there. I took deep breaths as I approached the women’s washroom, just a few short steps away. I just needed to be away from the group. Away from the bright lights. Away from Nick’s scolding tone. Away from Sophie. Away from—

Just as I placed my hand on the door knob, I gasped as I felt a strong hand grab my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Y/n.” That familiar voice was in my ear, barely above a whisper; his words hot against my skin. Snapping around to face him, I was immediately taken aback by our close proximity. Blaming it on my maddening arousal, I quickly recovered before crossing my arms over my chest defensively. “What’s going on?” Matt asked, his eyes filled with the same look of frustration that was surely mirrored in my own.

“Nothing’s ‘going on’,” I lied, doing my best to keep my voice steady and inconspicuous. “Go back to your fuck buddy over there,” I nudged by head in the direction of our table, out of sight from where we stood outside of the washrooms, “Don’t want her thinking she’s wasting her time tonight.” I cringed at the bitterness of my words, and mentally apologized to Sophie for them. Matt’s eyes narrowed. “She’s alright out there.” He replied, his words biting the air between us. “Come on Matt,” I scoffed, leaning against the wall, “If you want her to crawl into your bed tonight the least you could do is spend time with her over dinner.” My voice was filled with indignation, but I was no longer able to control it.

“She’s not crawling into my bed tonight.” He replied, his hushed tone somehow still sounding exasperated. I let my head fall back, releasing a sarcastic laugh. “Oh really? Then why the fuck did you invite her to dinner?” I replied, finding his lie humorous. “Maybe because I knew it would drive you crazy.” He growled, taking a single step forward to close the gap between us. My confidence wavered at his sudden change in personality; the Matt that I was so used to now long gone. I watched, silent and stunned, as his eyes flicked down to my lips for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “You don’t like seeing me touch her, do you?”

I tried to maintain my expressionless face and avoid reacting to his question, although my body had already begun to vibrate with desire. “Why would I? I’m fucking Chris, remember?” I smirked, satisfied by the reminder that he’s not the only one who can play this game. Taking one step closer to him, I leaned close — so close that I could smell his cologne and see his pulse hammering against his neck — before whispering. “His cum is still drying to my legs.”

Matt’s breath hitched at my words, and as I pulled back slightly I watched as his eyes darkened with lust. He took one final step towards me, his lips almost touching my ear as he seemed to struggle against whatever was running through his mind. Recognizing the shift of energy in the space between us, I decided to prod him even more. “What, now you’ve got nothing to say? You jealous or something?”

He stayed silent for a moment, the only sound being his heavy breathing against my ear. The feeling of him so close to me was suddenly heightening my senses, and I grew overwhelmed with heat. It wasn’t long before my breathing began to match his — ragged and desperate — as I waited impatiently for what he had to say. Suddenly, a sharp gasp fell from my lips as Matt’s hands ran up my bare thighs, snaking up to the sides of my skirt where he hungrily squeezed my fleshy hips; pulling me harshly against him so that I could feel his throbbing bulge against my radiating heat. As soon as my body made contact with his, a soft whine fell from his lips before he finally managed to whisper.

“My car.”

Unable to even attempt to think twice, I began following him back through the restaurant door and towards his car. As the cool air hit my skin, Matt grabbed me and began pulling me in the direction of the black car as though he couldn’t wait another second. Frantically, Matt opened the back door and hurried me inside, quickly following after me and closing the door shut behind him. Before I could even process what was happening, he pulled me onto his lap, his hands roaming everywhere at once as he claimed my mouth in a bruising kiss.

In an instant, all of the tension that had been simmering between us all night came to a boil, and I found myself at the mercy of his devouring lips. I whined against his greedy, open mouth as I straddled his lap, my dress riding up to my waist. His uncharacteristic aggression and desperation caught me off guard, but I embraced it with a submissive moan. One of his hands tangled in my hair while the other moved to grip my ass firmly, grinding me against his hard length. I gasped at the relief that the friction was giving me, and as I did he released a sharp hiss. “Fuck, Y/n.”

Responding to his powerful control over me, I rolled my hips against his bulge, relishing in the satisfaction of its rigidity against my clothed heat. “Matt.” I cooed, my lungs constricting from what could only be described as deep-rooted, insatiable need. Looking down to our writhing bodies, I recognized the small pool of arousal that I had already left on him; tainting his jeans a darker shade of blue. Following my gaze, he looked down and discovered the wet patch as well. Cursing under his breath, his eyes seemed to lock onto the spot as he continued to roll my hips against his lap shamelessly. “What got you this soaked?”

My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I bit down on my bottom lip as I ignored his question, caught up in the waves of pleasure surging through my body. In my silence, Matt groaned before his hips bucked up involuntarily to meet mine. “Answer me Y/n,” He said, his voice low and menacing, as he grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his wild stare, “Is all this for Chris?” My brows knit together in almost uncomfortable pleasure, and I writhed at his obvious jealousy. Looking down at him through hooded lids, I shook my head slowly.

Matt’s eyes searched mine intensely, his grip on my chin tightening slightly as he demanded an answer. “Then tell me who made you make this mess.” He rasped out, his free hand sliding up my thigh to press firmly against my clothed clit. Reacting immediately to his thumb’s pressure against my clit, I let out a desperate cry as I rolled my hips against it. I tugged at the base of his t-shirt before running my hands along his skin beneath it. “Y-you Matt.” I finally replied, growing wild with lust.

“Fuck,” Matt breathed out, his dilated pupils radiating desire. “Get these fucking panties off now.” He whispered, but without giving me the chance to slide them down my legs he grabbed onto the waistband; ripping them in half and leaving me exposed. I whimpered from the raw desperation of his actions just as he pulled down the top of my dress; letting my tits pop free before he slipped one hungrily into his mouth. Without wasting another moment, Matt grabbed onto my ass with both hands and used his grip to lift me up. Gasping, I leaned against the driver’s side door as Matt propped me up in the air; my legs spread and my glistening core just centimetres from his face.

My legs shook in anticipation as Matt seemed to take a moment to admire my cunt, his eyes glossy and unblinking. “The things you fucking do to me…” He muttered, more to himself than to me, before finally attaching his mouth to my throbbing clit. Immediately, my back arched off of the seat behind me as Matt’s tongue drew relentless circles against my bundle of nerves. His lips acted as the perfect suction, drawing guttural moans from the depths of my soul. My hands slipped into his hair, holding him in place as I fell into an erotic trance. “Oh god…oh god…” I shakily cried out like a mantra, unable to control any part of myself as his tongue set my soul on fire.

Matt released soft moans against my sensitive skin, his own satisfaction palpable as he devoured me into shambles. My clit responded to his movements like an obedient servant, sending jolting shockwaves through my body on each lick. “Fuck M-Matt.” I whined out, incapable of forming any cohesive thoughts besides the dizzying image of his blissed face contentedly pressed to my folds. I grew hyper aware of each movement of his tongue, and recognized the steady pattern that he stuck to; consistently drawing me closer and closer to an orgasm. My body began to contract, and I found myself writhing under his firm grasp on me as I nearly fell apart in his hands.

“G-gonna cum!” I cried out, my own squeaky voice unrecognizable as I was washed away by a full-body orgasm. My grip on Matt’s hair tightened as his tongue worked tirelessly against my pulsing clit, making sure to work me through the crashing waves of my orgasm. Moans spilled past my gasping lips as I trembled against the driver’s seat, so far gone that I could barely feel anything beyond the radiating pleasure surging through every nerve in my body.

Even after I had ridden through my high, Matt continued running his warm tongue through my folds, collecting all of my arousal on his tongue and moaning in satisfaction. My body jolted as I came down from my high, needy for more. As if he was reading my mind, Matt finally pulled himself away from my core, glancing up at me once before admiring my swollen folds once again. I watched as he sucked on his bottom lip, using his grip on me to spread me open even more and marvelling at the mess he had made.

Growing impatient, I squirmed under his gaze. “Matt,” I whined, watching him as he looked up at me with a smirk. “Somethin’ on your mind sweetheart?” He asked, his voice filled with amusement. Incapable of caring anymore, I nodded fiercely. “Say it.” He taunted, bringing his finger to my opening and sliding it in, before quickly pulling it back out and admiring my slippery wetness that was now dripping from it. “N-need your c-cock.” I admitted, earning a grateful smile from him.

After sucking his finger clean, he gently lowered me back onto his lap. “You’re drowning in your own juices thinking about my cock, huh?” He began unbuckling his belt with shaky hands. The needier I became, the farther my walls dropped, yet I was still shocked by the filthy words that spilled from his mouth. My eyes fell to his hands as they worked against his shiny belt, and I licked my lips hungrily. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” I admitted, unable to pull my eyes away from his crotch as I waited for him to remove his jeans. “I need it so fucking bad Matt.” I confessed, my voice wavering.

The moment his belt came undone, he cursed under his breath, clearly turned on by my desperation. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, either.” He admitted, his soft words riddled with gruffness, before shoving his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his rock-hard length. My eyes soaked in the sight of his swollen member, deep veins travelling up to his dark red tip where a bead of pre-cum was slowly dripping. After a moment, he grabbed my hips and yanked me back down onto his lap, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He groaned at the contact. “Fuck, so soaked.”

My core trembled in anticipation, the heat of his raw member pressing against me almost too much for me to bare. “S-sorry.” I replied, feeling my arousal begin to drip onto his thighs. “Don’t ever apologize for being this wet for me.” He breathed, the proximity of our bodies seeming to calm him slightly as one of his hands slid up my waist and up to my tits; where he toyed with my nipples gently. “Jesus.” He breathed, voice hitching as he adjusted me in his lap, his tip just barely entering me.

As he sunk me down his length, my jaw dropped as I felt my walls begin to stretch around his head as it crested my entrance. I was still raw from Chris earlier in the day, and I whined softly from the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure. Noticing my sensitivity, Matt released a sharp hiss. “You okay?” He asked, holding me still for a moment. I nodded rapidly, desperate to be filled. “Y-yes.” I replied shakily. Matt let out a strained groan as I began pushing myself further down his shaft, rolling his hips upward to bury another inch inside me.

“You f-fill me so g-good.” I moaned as I slowly took more and more of him. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that sweetheart.” His nails dug into my hips as he pushed me down further, finally bottoming out deep inside me. A gruff moan escaped his lips once every inch of him was engulfed by my pussy, and he gave me a moment to adjust to the pressure. He must have felt my walls begin to relax, because after a moment be began lifting me up slowly, until just the tip remained inside of me; teasing. Then, with a powerful thrust, he slammed me back down burying himself to the hilt once more.

I gasped as all of the air left my lungs at the feeling of his cock filling my insides. My nails dug into his shoulders as I struggled to keep my composure while he slammed me up and down his powerful length. “Fuck, Y/n. F-feel so g-good.” His voice strained with lust, he kept one hand on my hip and the other moved to my throat, gently squeezing as he began to drive up into me. He began fucking me with brutal intensity, his movements so much angrier and desperate than the last time; all of his emotions on full display. “C’mon baby, n-need to see you l-lose your m-mind.” He groaned, his head falling back against the headrest.

“Fuck!” I cried out, completely engulfed in the pleasure of Matt taking out all of his pent-up frustration on me. “W-want your cock a-all to m-myself!” I moaned, so recklessly caught up in him that I didn’t care how greedy I sounded. In response, Matt grabbed onto my hips and flipped me so that I was the one in the seat. Leaning over me, he pulled the lever so that the seat moved back, making me lay down slightly. He only took a brief moment to adjust himself between my legs before plunging himself back into me, slamming his cock relentlessly through my spongey walls.

“Fuck, you’re so selfish,” He hissed, slamming into me harder with each thrust, “I have to hear you moaning my brother’s n-name almost every goddamn night but you d-don’t want me to fuck anyone else?” Recognizing the despair in his tone, I grabbed onto his fluffy brown hair, tugging at the roots gently as I smirked at him through hooded lids. “Does anyone else f-feel as g-good as me?” I asked, my voice punctuated by each of his thrusts. “You’ve got t-to be fucking k-kidding me.” Matt growled, his pace turning almost punishing if it weren’t for the anguish of his voice. Growing even more aroused by his state, I bit my bottom lip flirtatiously. “D-does Sophie f-feel this good?” I asked again, knowing his answer just by the look across his face.

“N-no.” He huffed out, snapping his hips into me harshly as though this fact was distressing. “N-not this g-good.” He added. His hand slid from my throat to grasp my chin roughly; forcing eye contact. His harsh grip along with his words drove me crazy, and I felt animalistic as I stuck my tongue out; running it along his salty skin. “You’re making me lose my fuckin’ mind.” He groaned, his eyes locked on mine intensely.

I greedily pulled his thumb into my mouth, wrapping my lips around it before sucking on it fervently. Obsessed with the new-found power I had over him, I locked my arms around his waist as he continued pumping into me. I moaned, my lips vibrating around his thumb before I let it drop from my mouth. I watched through my eyelashes as his eyes glazed over, completely lost in the pleasure he was feeling as he seemed to rapidly approach his orgasm.

“N-need you t-to learn how t-to share m-me.” I whined, my body growing burning hot as I fought against my own impending orgasm. “Jesus Chris.” Matt’s grip on me tightened painfully as he slammed into me again and again, his body tense in my hands. “The—the f-fact that you…” He struggled to speak, his cock twitching inside of me, “D-don’t say shit…like that.” He grunted, his rhythm growing sloppier. I dropped my mouth to his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along his clammy skin. “P-please,” I cried, urgency laced in my words as I balanced on the edge of my orgasm, “N-need both of y-you.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ k-kill me.” Matt choked out, his movements so sloppy now that I tightened my legs around his waist to hold him steady. His head dropped to my chest for a moment, seeming to contemplate what I was begging him for, before he suddenly grabbed a fistful of my hair; pulling my head up to look at him. My eyes dropped to his swollen red lips as I let him hold me in place. “Please,” I mouthed, “Please f-fuck me w-whenever you w-want. W-whenever Chris isn’t u-using m-me.”

His eyes stayed locked onto mine, burning with possessiveness and desire and telling me that he had moved past his deliberations. He brought his lips to mine and engulfed them in a heated kiss. Pulling away, he kept his forehead pressed to mine as he spoke in a gravelly tone. “When you’re not in Chris’s room, you’re mine.” I bit my bottom lip at his words, their intensity shooting straight to my core. Nodding my head, I felt myself begin to lose the battle. “F-fuck. I’m…I’m s-so close Matt.” I whined.

“Say it,” He begged, his fingers digging into my scalp, “Say you’re m-mine.” I moaned at the feeling of his cock as it began to pulse against my walls, his orgasm so close I could practically feel him falling apart. “I’m y-yours.” I squeaked out, and as soon as the words left my mouth I was consumed by my orgasm. As he continued to pound into me, seemingly re-charged by my words, my legs began to shake and a plethora of moans fell from my lips. “Oh fuck.” Matt choked out as my convulsing walls milked his cock, and as my back arched off of the seat and my nails dug into his skin, I felt his warm seed shoot deep inside my trembling cunt. His hips continued snapping into me as he came undone, guiding both of us through our highs until we simultaneously fell into a peaceful trance.

Matt collapsed forward and I leaned against his sweaty frame; my body heavy with exhaustion. My arms wrapped around his neck, where I brushed the wavy tips of his hair gently as we both came back down to earth. His breath slowly steadied against my neck, his lips brushing feather-light kisses against it as he calmed down. After a moment, I felt his lips turn up into a smile against my skin. “You’re gonna fucking ruin me.” He chuckled. Straightening myself up, he pulled himself off of me and I locked eyes with him. “Do you have a problem with that?” I asked, my voice still breathless. His gaze lingered on mine for a moment, a soft smile still plastered to his face. “I wish I did, but I don’t.” He replied, pressing a gentle kiss to my eyelid before pulling himself slowly out of me.

Finally able to recognize the kind Matt that I was so used to seeing, I smiled in relief. “Well, we should probably get back to the table. I’m sure they’re all wondering where we’ve been.” I sighed before adjusting my dress, wincing as I did from how raw I felt. Matt and I quickly fixed ourselves so that we didn’t look freshly fucked, and before long we were out of the car and walking back towards the restaurant on shaky legs. As we reached the front doors, I whispered to him, “I’ll go sit down first, and you come join us after a couple of minutes.” Matt nodded, shooting me a soft smile before I slipped through the doors and headed back towards our table.

Thankfully Chris, Nick, and Sophie were all laughing; deep in conversation as I arrived at the table meaning they likely didn’t see my limp as I walked towards them. “Hey, you okay? You were gone for so long.” Nick asked with concern once he noticed me. Doing my best to seem casual, I chuckled softly. “Yeah, I’m all good. Just bumped into an old friend in the washroom.” I lied, surprising myself by how quickly I came up with a rather believable cover-up. Seeming to accept my response as the truth, Nick began chattering again to Sophie. Satisfied, I gingerly slid back into my seat beside Chris, shooting him a quick smile. I noticed a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he peered at me with curiosity.

Just as we had agreed on, a few minutes later Matt appeared at the table. “There he is!” Sophie cheered happily as he sat down beside her. “I thought you got lost!” She attempted to joke, though behind that veil I could see the concern in her features as she examined him closely. I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth, filled with nerves, as I waited to see what excuse he had come up with. “Sorry, I got an important phone call I had to take.” He replied, the lie slipping off of his tongue effortlessly. That seemed to be enough to satisfy Sophie, as she visibly relaxed before leaning against him cheerfully.

Matt’s lie didn’t seem to work on Chris, however, because in my peripheral vision I noticed him glance between Matt and I; staying completely silent. My breath hitched as I felt him suddenly pull my chair closer to him, and my heart began to race as he gently pushed my legs apart; hidden from everyone else by the table cloth draped over my lap. I felt my cheeks begin to grow warm as I slowly understood that he hadn’t been fooled by Matt and my lies, and I trembled in wait.

Suddenly, I had to stifle a cry as I felt Chris’s finger press against my sore — and completely bare — heat; and I heard his throaty chuckle as his finger ran along the small pool of cum still leaking from my opening. Casually, he swung his arm over my shoulders and pulled me into him. I felt his lips curl into a smile against my burning ears before he whispered in a low tone, “That’s my girl.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[onyxdaze]

Weird

Sebastian x f.Reader

Sebastian is jealous.

minors do not interact ~ 18+ content

Rested on a sturdy wooden lawn chair, you tilted your head against the backrest and gazed up at the sky. A backdrop of black draped in bits of shimmering silver. The symphony of the passing summer night played, and you lent it a grateful ear. Orchestrated by the moon, the trill of chirring crickets, clicking frogs and the occasional, well-appointed screech of an owl wavered in the night like a timid, shaking hand.

I’m sure the sound of the frogs makes Sebastian happy, you thought. And lowered your head before turning it until your cheek touched the cedar backrest and you faced Sebastian. Who had been quieter than normal today.

Your eyes settled on the pointed tip of his nose. Then the glass, bone-white skin flooded by a black sea of hair. It took him a second to notice you. His night-sky eyes drifting across your face while a warmth in your chest swelled. Sebastian’s full, cherry blossom pink lips stretched into an honest smile.

“Vincent seemed to enjoy himself at the egg hunt today,” Maru spoke while adjusting the settings on her telescope. The sound of her sweet, small voice captured your attention. “Even if he didn’t win,” she uttered in a hushed whisper.  

“Yeah well,” agitated, Sam squirmed in his seat and spoke to the back of Maru’s head, “Vincent could’ve won if Abby didn’t have some sick egg fetish.” Sam narrowed and pointed his piercing blue eyes at Abby, speaking louder now. “Or is beating children at a children’s game what you like best?”

Abby smirked, leaning into her chair with both her arms laying on the wooden planked armrests. She pressed her brows together, pretending to mull over Sam’s question. “Mmm, both,” she decided and relaxed her brows.

“Competition grows character,” Alex added, lifting his muscular arm in the air for a brief moment. His palm flat like a referee calling to end a match. You were the newest resident of Pelican town, having arrived a year ago. And it had been long enough to realize how quick Alex was to diffuse any matter of conflict. Even if Abby and Sam bickered like this all the time.

“Not when they are children,” Sam scoffed, and laughter bubbled in Abby’s chest and popped in the air.

“Oh!” Maru gasped, peering through her telescope, “a planet.”

“Where?” Sam shouted, scurrying to Maru’s side. Crouching down next to her small, bony frame that mimicked her half-brother’s stature.

“Here,” Maru’s mahogany hair shifted as she pulled away from the telescope and offered the eyepiece to Sam. “Do you see it?” she asked him.

“Uh huh,” Sam murmured while peeking through the telescope. His head bobbing up and down. Maru glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes trailing from Sam’s empty chair, to Abby, Alex, you, and then Sebastian. The six of you gathered outside her family’s home. Situated on the small, fenced-in patio placed outside the addition Robin had built for Maru’s room.

“Are your parents in town?” you asked Sebastian. He hadn’t talked for a while now, and you were starting to miss the sound of his voice—a low rumble like distant thunder that clapped in your mind. Still smiling, he stared at you. You watched as the realization you had spoken dawned on him. Splashes of pink crept along the apples of his cheeks and he looked away.

“Yeah,” he paused, pawing at the back of his neck. Avoiding your gaze while your eyes outlined the jutted veins on the back of his hand. “They’re helping clean up.”

“Which is code for getting drunk,” Abby explained, shrugging her shoulders. Her eyes shut and body reclined in her chair. Sunbathing in the moonlight. That must be how she keeps her ghostly, ivory complexion, you figured. “Whaddya think all our parents talk about when they drink?”

Alex’s thick brown brows lowered. And the green eyes that mimicked the shade of mint Evelyn grew in her herb garden, stared past his Greek nose and cleft chin. You knew that look. It was the look of a battleship sailing on a quiet, still night.

“About how dumb you are,” Sam’s brash answer followed after a quick glimpse at Alex’s bronze face.

“Hey!” Abby’s eyes flew open and her back straightened. Sam caught Abby’s glare and glanced at Alex. Coaxing Abby to do the same. “Oh,” she mumbled, leaning back in her seat. “I guess I can be pretty dumb sometimes,” she announced before erupting in a fit of nervous laughter.

“Sam, look!” Maru nudged Sam’s shoulder. And the two continued to examine the sky together. Abby took a peek at Alex before shutting her eyes again.

“Uh,” Sebastian tugged at the worn cuff of his hoodie, “how’d you like the festival?” His eyes fixated on the frayed ends of dark purple cotton while he struggled to push the words out.

“You must be so hot in that hoodie,” you remarked, watching him pick at it. His face beet red.

“Um,” Sebastian chuckled. His voice cracking. The hoodie made him feel less anxious, and he wasn’t quite sure how to explain that to anyone. Let alone you.

“I almost forgot!” Alex boomed, stomping his foot on the ground. His outburst extinguished the tinder of conversation Sebastian was desperate to kindle. Alex pulled his phone out of his pocket and Sebastian swallowed hard as your focus shifted. “Pictures from Dusty’s birthday party!” Alex beamed. His chiseled face and strong features glowing with pride, he held his phone up to your face. His thumb hovering above the screen and his eyes on you.

Alex needs to find something else to look at, Sebastian fumed inwardly. His jaw clenched. Alex had been flirting with you all day at the egg festival. And every time Sebastian tried to talk to you, Alex interrupted him. Sebastian knew Alex was only hanging out with them to be with you. He had overheard Penny, tell Maru, that Alex thinks Sam and him are weird.

“So cute,” you squealed, holding your cheeks in the palm of your hands, “look at that little hat.” Sebastian’s chest tightened at the sight of Alex’s smug grin and half-closed eyes.

What if Alex tells you he thinks I’m weird and you believe it? Sebastian’s thoughts made him queasy. You were the first person in a while who made him feel important. Will Alex make you forget about me? Will you stop hanging out with me?

“Check this out,” you added, taking your phone from your pocket, “this is my cat, Miso.” You held your phone in Alex’s line of sight.

“Aw,” Alex cooed. “Hey, I don’t think you have my number,” he commented, rubbing a piece of his brown, spiked hair.

Sebastian’s hands tightened into fists.

“Is it cool if I give it to you? You know,” Alex paused to think, “in case you need help with the farm or something.”  

“Sure,” you smiled, and Sebastian’s heart wrenched. “Here, add it,” you moved to pass Alex your phone. He reached out to take it from you.

Competition grows character, Alex’s words plagued Sebastian, playing in his mind. His grip on the downpour of jealousy and frustration that pounded on him loosened. A crushing pain in his chest that stung. Before he could gain control of his emotions, he had stood and snatched your phone away from you. Now towering between you and Alex.

A small, soft grunt rolled past Sebastian’s lips, realizing what he had done. His eyes flickered between your phone in his hand and the scowl on Alex’s face. Nervous, Sebastian shoved the phone into his pocket, pushing aside his carton of cigarettes.

“Have a smoke with me?” was all Sebastian could muster. His shiny black eyes pressing down on you, pleading.

“Yeah,” your tone gentle. You didn’t understand what was going on with Sebastian, but you knew he had been moody and quiet all day. Maybe he needs someone to talk to, you considered.

“Cool,” Sebastian muttered, taking both his phone and yours out of his pockets. You stood and waited for Sebastian while he set both phones down on the armrest of your unoccupied chair. Determined for your time together to be uninterrupted. As he lifted his hand away from the armrest, he noticed Alex staring at him. Sebastian glowered, and Alex’s eyes widened.

Alex had heard his fair share of tales about the black-eyed deities with sinister intentions from his Yoba-loving grandparents. And had always found Sebastian’s charred eyes to be disturbing.

“What?” Sebastian sneered.

“Nothing,” Alex shook his head side-to-side and held the flats of his palms up for Sebastian to see.

Annoyed Alex had taken it upon himself to be here, Sebastian joined your side. And the two of you wandered outside the borders of the brown picket fence.

The wet grass squished under the weight of your footsteps until you stopped at the lakeshore. Sebastian’s clumsy hand fumbled inside his pocket for a cigarette and a lighter. He stuffed the white stick in his mouth and held his cupped palm above the tip of it. You watched him bow his head. Blades of obsidian hair fell forward, and patches of pale skin peeked through them. He flicked his black, plastic lighter and an orange flame appeared. Your presence always accompanied by a persistent prickling, popping inside Sebastian’s stomach. He lit the white strip and inhaled, the cigarette twitched and then it was still. Then his whole body was still and calm for the first time tonight, and he picked the burning paper away from his mouth between two of his fingers. His lips shining and velvet pink like the petal of a cherry blossom touched by the rain. A flood of smoke poured from his mouth and formed thick, grey clouds that stretched themselves thin.

“Everything okay?” you asked. Your weak smile and downturned brows made Sebastian’s body feel heavy. He hated to see you worried.

“Yeah,” the tenderness in his voice felt like a flame quivering inside you, spreading heat through your body. He kept his eyes on the lake. The moon’s steel reflection trembling in wavering waters. Afraid if he looked at you for too long, he might give himself away. And you’d be repelled by the painful amount of desperation and longing that tormented him. You followed his line of sight and stared at the lake.

“Is there something out there?” Your question spawned a mischievous smile that lifted Sebastian’s cheekbones.

“Huh…I think I saw something dark moving in the water…,” he tapered off into a menacing silence. You blinked, then strained your eyes. Failing to see the ominous creature. Squinting, you moved closer to the lake’s edge.

 “I can’t see it,” you whined. Crouching down, you balanced yourself on your forefeet.

She wouldn’t last long in a horror movie, Sebastian supposed, leaning over you. He breathed in. The sweet floral scent of your hair tickled his nose, and he moved closer.

“Are you sure? It’s right there and it’s big,” he teased. Content to stay perched above you for the rest of the night. Determined, you tilted your body forward.

“I still—,” your balance faltered. You opened your mouth to scream, but instead a pitiful squeak toppled past your lips. Driven by instinct you latched on to Sebastian. He groaned as he tumbled forward. The force of your bodies hitting the water produced a loud smack.

Fully submerged in the lake your eyes scanned the water in a frenzy. Terrified of whatever Sebastian had seen. You felt something yank the back of your shirt, so you swam to the surface. Beads of water dripped down your face while you caught your breath.

You followed Sebastian to the bank of the lake and the two of you lifted yourselves out of the water.

“You alright?” Sebastian asked, pushing his wet hair away from his face. You sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder on the grass.  

“Yeah,” panicked you stared down into the water, “is it still there?” He raised his brows and then lowered them.

“No,” he chuckled. “I said that to scare you.”

“Oh,” you sighed, relieved. “But why?” Sebastian shrugged.

“I don’t know, why do you talk to that Alex guy?” It felt more like an accusation than a question. Confused, you narrowed your eyes and knitted your brows.

“He seems nice enough,” you responded, and Sebastian was quiet. “There’s like twenty people to talk to,” you explained in your defense, clutching a piece of your soaked shirt and squeezing it. Unsure as to why you needed a defense.  

“But do you like him?” Sebastian blurted, inwardly horrified by every syllable but powerless to stop. He had been overtaken by an all-consuming need to know.

“He’s cool, I guess,” you stared at Sebastian’s frustrated expression with your own. Is, is he… jealous? Your face softened. He looked away from you, clearly upset. And you started to put the pieces together. You had always assumed his shyness stemmed from anxiety, and Sebastian had never given you a reason to think otherwise. “Have you been mopey all day because I’ve been talking to Alex?”

“No,” Sebastian muttered, “well, yeah.” He changed his mind, his voice just above a whisper. Still avoiding your gaze.

“Hey,” you reached out and brushed your fingertips against his neck. He turned his head and his eyes bore down on you, full of shame and fear. You let your palm press down on the side of his neck and pulled him toward you. Sebastian’s shoulder cradled yours and your heart throbbed. A tingling static crackled in your belly. You closed your eyes and titled your head slightly. And felt Sebastian’s lips on yours. He cupped your face with his hands, pulling you into him and leaning further into the kiss. A lustful ache stirred inside you, coiling itself tightly and tugging at you. Your eyes fluttered open as the two of you parted.

Sebastian let go of you and his arms fell to his sides. Reaching under his thigh, he pinched himself. To make sure this was real and not another dream. Feeling punch-drunk and fuzzy, he gave himself a moment to take it all in.

The two of you stared at each other. Your hand still on his neck.  

Silence followed and a rush of panic overtook you. What if kissing him was too much? Did you misread the situation?

You started to move your hand away, but Sebastian held it in place. And lowered his head to kiss you again. His body hot despite the cool, drenched clothing that clung to his skin. It was vindicating, to know you felt the same. That you weren’t interested in Alex. Who Sebastian was certain had a head as full of air as the gridballs he worshipped. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth and blood rushed to the tip of his cock. Causing a primal urge to scream inside him, commanding him to climb on top of you. But Sebastian didn’t want to risk moving too fast and scaring you off. He pulled away, holding your hand in his. Taking your fused hands, he rested them on his thigh. Fighting the inner desire that screeched for him to place your hand on his dick.

Faces close, the two of you shared the same air. Each breath felt thick, intoxicating. Your mouth reached for Sebastian’s and your hand slid away from his to paw at his crotch. A guttural moan vibrated in his throat as your hand wrapped around his cock. Sebastain turned his head and buried it in the crook of your neck. You squeezed his hard dick and his body jerked. Pressing his lips to your skin, he muffled the whine you drew from him. Hesitant, Sebastain pried your hand away from his lap.

“Let’s go inside,” he whimpered, lifting his head up.

“Okay,” you mouthed, pressing your forehead against his. You gave him a quick peck on the lips and Sebastian held his body still for a moment. Then slowly stood.

You followed him to his house, both your footsteps heavy. Water dripping onto the wooden floors. Neither of you said a word as Sebastian led you down to the basement and rushed you into his bathroom.

His heartbeat pounding in his ears, he buried his hands underneath your shirt and pulled it over your head. It smacked against the bathroom tile when he threw it on the floor. Pressing his body into yours, he grabbed your waist and pushed your ass against the cabinet beneath his sink. Your wet skin clung to his hands. His mouth latched onto yours and moved in eager, synchronized movements. Engulfed in the scorching desire to bury his fat cock deep inside your pussy, Sebastian grinded his hips against yours.

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” he moaned, breathing next to your ear. The warmth of his breath clouded your mind. And a blistering, fervent pang of longing ricocheted throughout your body.

“Yeah,” you whined, pushing your cunt against his clothed, hard cock. Stupid with desire.

“Mhmm,” Sebastian hummed. He closed his eyes while you kissed his neck, parting your lips and circling his skin with your tongue.

“Off,” you grunted, tugging his hoodie. Sebastian took a step back and peeled his soaked hoodie and t-shirt off his body, discarding it on the floor. His toned arms and slender body visible. His alabaster skin smooth and freckled. You moved toward him, preparing to get on your knees. But Sebastian had other plans. Grabbing both your arms, he turned you around and pushed you back towards the sink. Pressing his bare chest against your back, he circled his arms around your waist and reached for your shorts. His hands shaking as he fumbled with the gold button, eventually getting it loose and pulling both your shorts and underwear down to the floor.

You looked into the bathroom mirror hanging above the sink. And so did Sebastian. Your eyes met in the mirror. Sebastian’s face next to yours.

He stared at your chest, your tits heaving with your breath. Squeezed together inside a black pushup bra. Your face and neck pink. He kissed your cheek and ran his fingers across the skin between your belly button and your pussy. Your breath stuttered as he slid his fingers between the lips of your cunt. They moved with ease through the silk film of want that coated your pussy. He held his breath, desperate to hear the sound of your wet cunt sucking on his fingers. You pressed your back into him, mewling as he pumped two fingers inside your hole. Pushing his hard cock into the fat of your ass.

“Please,” you sobbed, body writhing against his. Eyes shut tight. “I want to feel you.”

Sebastian took a deep breath, his mind buzzing. His fingers lazily rubbing your clit. The back of your head dug into his shoulder as you leaned against him, harder. Rubbing his clothed cock with your ass.

“Bend over,” his voice hoarse. You bent your torso over the sink, elbows resting on the white ceramic. Sebastian watched as you lifted your leg up to the sink. Your pussy glistening and on display for him. He swallowed hard. And stared at the white, spackled ceiling for a moment. Attempting to gain his bearings. Afraid if he didn’t at least try to calm down, it’d be over as soon as it had started.

“Sebastian,” you whimpered. The warm blood in his cock stirred at your beckoning. And Sebastian succumbed to your request. Pulling his pants and boxers down and stroking his cock in his hand.

You watched him play with himself in the mirror. Sebastain rubbed the tip of his drooling cock with is thumb. The precum gushing from his slit, stuck to the pad of his thumb.

He moved toward you, easing his dick inside your pussy. Watching your flushed face drown in pleasure. Your moans loud and unhinged while he pushed himself inside you, crying out for him. Nearly toppling him past his limits. He reached out and grabbed your hair at the root.

“Quiet,” he grunted. His cock thrusting in out and out of your needy hole. That squeezed every inch of his dick. His belly tight. Sebastian leaned against your back and kissed your shoulder blade. “Only I get to fuck you,” he grumbled. His pace faster now. One hand desperately clutching at your hips. While the other pulled your hair. “Only I get to fuck you,” he repeated himself, louder.

“Mmm, yes, only you,” you cried through choked moans. His breaths became shorter and quicker. The sensation of your cunt milking his cock made him feel as though he had been reduced to a pulsating nerve. Everything felt so sensitive. His body burning. Sebastian cried out, his legs trembling as he came inside you. Filling your pussy with his hot cum. He laid, hunched over you for a second. Then slowly let go of your hair and pulled his spent cock out of you. His eyes followed the sight of his seed dripping from your pussy down your thigh. His breathing sporadic.

“Stay away from Alex,” he huffed.

[darnell-la]

Can you do a follow up with the project x!wolverine x government employee!reader (it can be smut or not I just really like that story)

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

pairing: project x!logan howlett x government employee!reader

warnings: tied up, trapped, sniffing, hunting down, roughly fucked against a tree, pinned, choking, “dragged” through the woods, fucked on the patio, ass slapping, hair pulling, etc.

note: we will be making a part three where they contact Charles's school for mutants to warn them about the government, but the government hacked into their call and found out where Logan was hiding out and keeping y/n.

Logan will be more sweet in the next one as y/n grows out of the fear of him.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

when y/n woke up, she was dangling from the ceiling by her wrists. It took her a while to realize, she was in a basement full of big freezers and sinks. For a second, she thought she was going to be cut up and frozen to feed to whoever until she saw a man sitting on the stairs, leading upstairs.

“W-Where am I?” Y/n said, voice coming out lower than she expected it to. “Home,” the man spoke before getting up. He came out of the light, now shaking off the figure.

He was shirtless, yet had jeans on. Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t know why. Was it because Project X had her tried up in god knows where, or was it the fact she could see all of his chest?

He was sweaty, hairy, ripped, muscles flexed every once in a while, veins popping from his skin and smooth.

“It’s passed midnight, but I bet you’re hungry. Went to the store then cooked us up some food,” he spoke as her eyes traveled all over his body. She felt like she was in a trance.

“Up here, princess,” his voice was closer. She didn’t notice how close he was until his fingers lifted her chin. Even though her feet were a few inches from the ground, he was still towering over her.

“You hungry?” He asked with a head tilt. “Let me go,” she spoke, not knowing what else to say. “No,” he spoke back, voice sounding stern. She could hear the seriousness behind his tone.

“And if you try runnin’ you’ll regret it,” he said, body now touching hers. Y/n quickly went to kick him right between his legs, but he knew what was coming. He surprised her by pulling her leg to the side of his waist. She went to use the other, but he did the exact same thing.

“Relax, princess,” the man smirked down at her as she tried wiggling away, but doing so made her cunt rub up and down his clothes length. She prayed he wouldn’t notice, but he felt the wet spot soaking into his jeans.

“If you act good, I’ll fix that for you,” the man whispered in her ear, pulling her body closer to his. Y/n held bad the whine she almost let out. What was he doing to her?

Logan eventually pulled back and walked to the corner of the room to lower her rope. He then walked back over to the girl as she looked down, not knowing what to say or do to the man.

He wasn’t giving off any type of serial killer vibes. He didn’t seem like he wanted to do any kind of killing. A part of her felt saved than she’d ever had, especially because of her job, but she felt off just letting this man win what he wanted. And that was her.

After y/n’s hands dropped from the ropes, she lifted her knees and connected with his groin. The man fell to the ground in pain as she pushed past him, running up the stairs.

The slightly frightened girl ran towards the front door, thinking she was free until she noticed a device on the lock that needed a code. “Fuckin’ hell,” she shouted before running around the rest of the house to find another way.

“You ain’t gettin’ outta here, bub!” Logan yelled from downstairs, finally getting up from the ground. You would think a mutant like him wouldn’t feel that pain, but he did.

Y/n panicked, thinking she was doomed until she had an idea. A stupid one which she slightly felt bad for doing but she did it anyway.

“Son of a bitch!” Logan finally made it up the stairs to the sound of glass breaking. She was out and running for her life, knowing he’d be furious about his genitals and glass.

Y/n ran as fast as she could through the woods, a bit terrified of the dark and animal noises, but the real animal was back at that house. He is an animal, right? That’s what they said he was.

Y/n had stopped after a few minutes to catch her breath. He’s never been the kind to run.

As she rested, she looked down at her feet, swing scratches and blood, but she’d get over it. She needed to get away.

As the young woman went to take a step to continue, she heard a noise behind her. She quickly looked back but saw nothing. Maybe it was a squirrel or something, she thought.

Y/n turned back around to start walking until he saw the view of an angry Logan in her face. “Where ya goin, bub?” He asked. Y/n instantly screamed at his presence.

Before she could move, the man tangled her to the ground, pushing his hand down the middle of her back to pin her into the dirt.

“No!” Y/n fought in anger, thinking she was actually going to escape. “When I said no, you ain’t listen, now didn’t you?” The man said through his teeth as he forced her to dress up.

“Logan, please! N-Not out here, not out here!” She begged, thinking people would be able to hear this scene going on and go and check, just to see her getting drilled into the ground.

“No one’s out here, princess. Not for another mile or so — You’re all mine out here,” the evil low laugh he let out as he pulled his jeans down was insane. He hadn’t even pulled himself out of his boxers. He wanted to take his time with her out here.

Y/n tried kicking her legs, but what was the point? He could smell her leaking down her folds. He knew she wanted this, and he was going to make her understand.

“I said, no!” Y/n shouted as she swung her elbow back as hard as she could, making him fall back. Y/n crawled away, but only a few inches to look back at him. The fear that grew inside of her was unbelievable.

Logan‘s jaw was dislocated. She popped his jaw.

Y/n’s words got stuck in her throat. She wanted to apologize as the man slowly looked up. He didn’t mean to hurt him. She’s not like that.

Before she could open her mouth, Logan popped his jaw back in place with his hand before moving it around to make sure it was normal.

“You fucked up, bub,” the man said before crawling towards her. It didn’t even look like a crawl. How did he do that? Logan lifted the girl up by her neck and pinned her to the closest tree.

“Ow!” She cried out, feeling the tree bark scratched her ass through her thin and silky nightgown. God, she needed to change soon.

“Logan, ow!” She hoped he’d have sympathy for her, but the way his eyes looked, he was far from it. He wanted to teach her a lesson, and that’s what he was doing.

“N-No, no!” She pushed at the man’s hand, but that did nothing. He ripped her nightgown off like a strand of hair. “Logan!” She shouted, feeling the breeze on her body until his body rubbed against hers.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” Logan growled as he pulled himself out of his jeans. “I don’t like that,” he had as he shifted up and between y/n’s legs until they were lifted off of the ground. Her toes barely touched the dirt.

“I-I can't, Logan,” y/n remembered how he fucked her the last time, and he wasn’t even angry at her. Logan let out a chuckle that he soon cut off after he slammed up into her cunt.

Y/n cried loudly as her arms gripped his shoulders. Logan stared directly at her, his face seemed too serious to look at. He was angry. Very angry. But why? It’s not like the pop in his jaw hurt like any other thing her went through?

“P-Please,” she choked as he pushed her neck into the tree harder, just to get a reaction out of her. “Shut the fuck up,” the man said like the tree wasn’t about to break or come out of the ground from how hard he was pounding into her.

“I can’t,” she whined in pain, but too much pleasure to not tighten around him. The way she squeezed him, egged him on further.

“Oh, you can’t? Does it look like a give a fuck? Huh!? Does it!?” He spat as his pelvis roughly slapped against her clit. She couldn’t think straight. This man was fucking her like some wild animal in the woods. She’s literally being fucked by an animal in the woods.

“F-Fuuuck,” y/n dragged with a broken moan. Logan let her neck go and used both of his hands to grip and hold onto her legs, keeping her up and against the tree, not caring how much she scratched at his shoulders and chest.

The man growled in her ear, cock slipping in and out of her entrance as her asshole puckered. He was huge and slagging around like he wasn’t.

Y/n couldn’t say, but her broken cry warned him she was cumming, and when she did, it was hard. “Goddamnit — Fuck,” the man grunted, pinning his feet to the ground to keep up his hard abuse.

“So fuckin’ good — Fuck!” The man couldn’t keep himself together as his nails dug, into her thighs. Y/n was now crying, not because she was scared, but because of the overstimulation followed by a thrust that wouldn’t slow down.

“Yeah? Yeah, is that the spot, baby?” He asked, knowing it was. “Think this is over just because you came? Think ima stop because you’re drunk on my cock? How did that go last time?”

The girl shook her head, half ass answering his questions. “So cute,” the man chuckled before pulling y/n off of the treat and throwing her over his shoulder to give her a small break.

He wanted his fresh meet alive and functioning when he fucked filled her up. Last time he didn’t get that chase, but he swore to god he would this time.

Because she ran so far, he had to walk it, giving y/n some time to come to life. “Lo-“ y/n cut herself off, still having trouble speaking, but held herself well enough for him to understand.

“No more,” she begged, but he wasn’t having it. “Please, no more,” she begged again as she noticed him passing his car parked several feet from his cabin.

“Logan!” She shouted, now kicking and screaming again. The man grew angry but wanted to take her to the bedroom for what he was about to lay on her.

“Logan!” She shouted, gripping onto the side of his house which was a long wooded stand. “Y/n, stop it!” He let her down with a shout as he began pulling her, but she wouldn’t budge and he didn’t want to accidentally rip her arms off.

“No!” She screamed before he finally pulled her off, causing her to fall on the front steps in front of his house. The way she fell and landed on her hands and knees made him say, fuck it.

“You wanna be fucked like an animal? Fine,” he said as he came up behind her, pulling his cock back out before plunging into her, earning a scream that made him know he hit the right spot instantly.

Logan grew an evil smile across his face as he tugged on her hair, making her arch her back before slapping at her ass, causing her to bruise lightly.

“Little sluts get treated like slut, y/n. You could’ve be fucked nice and sweet on the bed earlier, but no — You wanna run,”

Y/n’s mouth slacked as her eyes crossed from how hard the man was pounding on her. “You see that, bub? Look right up there, right into that camera,” he forced her to look at his security.

“Gonna tie you down and make you watch how dumb you look on my dick,” the man spat, making y/n feel the burn in her eyes, but not from embarrassment. From too much pleasure.

“Yeah — Yeah,” the man repeatedly groaned as y/n squeezed him with a shake in her body. “So fuckin’ pathetic, I might have to give you back,” Logan said, knowing he’d never do such a thing. “Nah,” he added drill in her head that she ain’t goin’ nowhere.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ, sᴍᴜᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ...

[vintagerpg]

Most if not all the Fighting Fantasy gamebooks have hype copy on the cover that says, “A thrilling fantasy adventure in which YOU are the hero!” Creature of Havoc (1986) has that copy too, but it is the one time (that I can recall, at least) where it is fibbing. You are not a hero. You are a horrible creature, mutated, without identity and driven only by instinct (though, honestly, I am not 100% sure you’re the titular creature). This makes Havoc pretty unique in the series (only the time loop of Black Vein Prophecy exhibits a similar mechanical boldness) and makes for a complex and difficult playthrough.

So, monster that is constantly changing and evolving. Initially, you are driven by instinct, which means you make rolls to determine where you go. Once reason takes hold, you need to figure out language, which involved breaking a code (and kind of reminds me of The 13th Warrior in the way speech slowly becomes comprehensible). Then you need to escape. That involves secret passages, which can be discovered by adding 20 to the paragraph number when you’re in the right spot. You kill some adventurers along the way (combat in this book, with your claws and bulk and spines and, uh, appetite for flesh, is both bracing and gruesome). Eventually, you confront the sorcerer who made you this way — Zharradan Marr, the handsome gent on Ian Miller’s fantastic cover — find out the truth about your identity and, presumably, kick his ass into the netherworld (where he continues to make trouble for the world, as detailed in The Trolltooth Wars novel). Alan Langford delivers art and it is fine, but this is maybe the only time I will ever say this: the art is secondary to the experience of playing through this book.

All in all, conceptually and mechanically, a performance that is difficult to impossible to top. Clearly, since it is the last FF book that Steve Jackson wrote.