#not trying to start shit. i would love her even if no thoughts head empty

[palebloodpresence]

what if i said my genuine opinion of "rom the vacuous spider" is that she's actually not like, peaceful because she's stupid, she's just extremely fucking chill bc she's so enlightened. like she WILL defend herself but really she just wants to hide in her cool lake world and hide dark rituals

[hanjsquokka]

MILF Next Door - [ Han Jisung ]

🐿 SYNOPSIS : Jisung gets a new neighbor and he's completely head over heels. Love at first sight — in his opinion. And he's not going to let an adorable three year old get in the way of true love.

GENRE : strangers to potential lovers, light fluff, smut

PAIRING : neighbor! jisung × fem! single mom reader

CONTENT WARNING : perv! jisung, jisung is a simp and he's horny, mature language, mentions divorce (not between jisung and reader), single parenting, (smut warnings under the cut)

WORD COUNT : 4.5K

AUTHOR'S NOTE : this is just trash tbh but here we go

minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content

SMUT WARNING : sub leaning jisung, slightly dom reader, oral (m receiving), riding, nicknames (good boy, baby, etc.), jisung has thing for moms, orgasm denial, piv, unprotected sex (pls don't do this)

Jisung was curious — to say the least. He was working on producing a song for his friend Changbin (honestly one of the best rappers Jisung had ever met) when he heard loud thumps from the corridor outside and the apartment next door. He heard a lot of shuffling — thanks to the wonderfully thin walls, and it was safe to say that he had gotten a new neighbor. He'd been trying to get a peek at them, in a completely friendly way obviously, but they seemed really private or they went out a lot. He was just about to assume that it was probably another working adult when one day, he was on the balcony in the morning for some fresh air. He'd been working the whole night and desperately needed to inhale something that wasn't carbon dioxide.

Which was when he spotted... you. You were putting some pots in your balcony, maybe for a few plants. Who was this beauty and why have I never seen her before? You looked pretty. Far too pretty for Jisung to stop staring at you like a literal creep. Thankfully the microwave started beeping loudly, so he had to go back inside and save his re-heated dinner from going cold. When he went back out again, you were gone. All that was left, were a few empty pots and packets of seeds.

I have to see her again.

Jisung not to secretly tried to get another look at his new neighbor, trying to determine when you would go out so he could casually bump into you and say hi. It was highly unlikely you were still single — who would not fall for a pretty girl like that? But he had to try.

After a week, he gave up. Maybe you just wanted to be left alone. He was returning home late one day, tired from his long day at the recording studio with Changbin who was not satisfied even after twenty retakes of the same verse. He was so tired, his vision was blurry and he bumped his foot loudly against the door. "Shit!" He cursed, wincing as he tried to step back. He was just about done with everything when the door next door opened, revealing the insanely pretty girl with concern masking your features. You were wearing pajamas, some part of his brain noted, pajamas with squirrels on them. Why did that make make him feel things?

Great going Jisung. Amazing first impression.

"Sorry, I heard some loud noises — are you okay?" You asked. You pushed away the hair covering your eyes. He took in more of your features. Your wispy bangs, your almost black eyes, your nose, the pink in your cheeks and your lips. Oh god. He could feel all sorts of wild thoughts running through his mind. Most of which were not child friendly.

Jisung couldn't look away. "Yeah. Yeah I'm good. Thank you." He said, mustering a smile to match the one forming on your face. I'm doomed. "You're new... right? I'm Jisung. Han Jisung." Nice save dork.

"Y/n. I've been meaning to introduce myself. I've just been busy and —"

You never had time to finish your sentence because a kid appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and clinging onto your leg. What the — "Mama..."

"Sorry baby, did I wake you up?" You asked softly, picking up the kid in your arms. Jisung's heart was plummeting. No way. No fucking way — "I was just saying to the nice man next door. Say hi." The little boy waved cutely.

Jisung returned the gesture, too stunned to speak. "Is he your...."

"Huh? Yeah —" Your face broke into another huge grin. "This is my son, Sunghwan." The sleepy kid perked up at the mention of his name before starting to doze off again on your shoulder. "I should put him back to sleep. It was nice meeting you Jisung." You bowed and went back inside your house, closing the door behind her, leaving Jisung in a state of utter shock and confusion.

The pretty (sexy) girl next door was not only taken, but you were married and had a kid. Why did the universe like toying with his heart so much? Jisung went inside his own house, closing the door with a grumpy face. He really got too ahead of himself, didn't he?

A few days later, he ran into the pretty married girl with an adorable kid at the supermarket. Well — he ran into your adorable kid first. Jisung was piling up on snacks since he needed the sugar, when he spotted a small child trying to hold onto candy bars and grab more from the shelves. Upon getting a closer look, he noticed it was the kid from next door! He couldn't just leave the little boy, now could he? Not when he knew him. He had to take responsibility as a neighbor and a decent dude to bring him back to his mom.

So he approached the kid. "Hey little guy, where's your mom?" He asked, crouching down to his height. He really was cute (just like his mom).

"She buying vegetables. Bleh." The kid made a disgusted face, making Jisung laugh.

"You don't like vegetables?"

"No. They gross. I like candy!" He said excitedly, holding up the goodies that he piled in his small hands.

"Okay then, what about your dad?"

"Dada sees me every Fri-day.” He said carefully. “Only Mama here.” He looked around in confusion. “Mama?”

Jisung was still caught on the sentence about his dad. He sees him every Friday? That sounded a lot like… those child custody things he saw on TV. "Okay little guy, let's go find your mom first. She must be worried." He held out his hand. "My name is Jisung." He offered a smile.

"Ji-sung?" The kid held onto his hand. Jisung began leading them down the aisles. "I'm Sung-hwan! Sunghwan!" He said with a giggle. Aw man he's so cute.

"Sunghwan huh? That's a nice name." Jisung noted as he looked around for you. He soon found you near the cereals, looking worried. "Aha, we found her!" He took a very long glance at your figure and had a few seconds to fantasize over her long legs before Sunghwan shouted.

"Mama!"

You snapped your head in their direction, relief washing over your face as you knelt down so the kid could run into your arms. "Sunghwan! How many times have I told you to not run off like that!" You chided, but you held onto him tightly. You stood up, your gaze meeting Jisung's. A smile formed on your face. "Jisung, right? I can't thank you enough! I looked away for two seconds and he was gone and—"

"It's alright." Jisung brushed it off, but his heart was going crazy inside his chest. She's smiling at me and she's talking to me! "I found him in the candy aisle. Little man has taste."

You looked at kid, who had an innocent look on his face. You shook your head. "I should've known. But anyways, thank you." You held Jisung's hand to shake it. Holy moly.

"It's okay. Really." He said, a huge smile on his face. "Do you need some help?" He asked, looking at the shopping cart that was full of groceries.

"No, no, it's okay —"

"No, I could help, seriously. You look like you have a lot on your hands already." Jisung said, looking at the kid was trying to pick up a box of cereal from the shopping cart. "I live next door, it really isn't an issue.”

“Honestly, that would be really helpful.”.

"No worries." Jisung said casually.

Which was how he found himself in the apartment next door, setting down the bags of groceries in the kitchen. The house was neat — except there were toys everywhere. Sunghwan was way more than thrilled to show Jisung each and every one of them. He even began narrating the story of why his Mickey Mouse stuffed toy had a bandage (bad encounter with a dog at the park) which made Jisung laugh. He would've loved to spend the whole day there, if he didn't get a call from Changbin.

"Oh, that's work. I gotta go." He said, standing up.

"Thank you again, Jisung." You said, coming out of the kitchen.

"I told you, it's okay." He chuckled. "I like helping people out."

"Jisungie, you have to come back and play with me, okay?" Sunghwan had gotten up from his place and was now holding onto the fabric of his jeans. It was adorable. "I no show my Legos." He pouted. This kid was pulling at his heartstrings.

"I mean, if it's okay with your mom…” He tried off, meeting your eyes. Please say yes.

"Of course you can." You nodded with another one of those bright smiles.

"Yay!" Sunghwan jumped around.

"Say bye, Sung." You told the kid, who waved brightly.

"Bye Sunghwan. And you too Y/n. You can call me if you ever need anything." Jisung told you, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you guys later." He saw himself out and back to his own house. That kid was the ticket to get close to you. You're single (as far as he understood), which means he was doing no wrong. Besides, moms are super sexy (she was an absolute milf). God, he was getting too excited. He grabbed his things and headed to the recording studio.

Safe to say the Jisung was absolutely fucked. He was goner the day he saw you dressed up in a dress that was too short for his mental wellbeing. It was supposed to be a normal day. He started babysitting Sunghwan quite often because you had job interviews packed for the whole week. Since he loved you oh so much, the second he swung open to the door to meet your nervous face, asking him if he could watch Sunghwan for a while.

Truth be told — Jisung didn't exactly hear what you said. He'd known you for a month and he was already down so so bad. He only saw your pretty lips moving, the way you fiddled with your fingers as you tried to explain it to him. But Jisung. Oh god. He just stared at you like a lovesick fool and immediately nodded to save his ass when you finished speaking.

Which was how he found himself in his apartment the next day with Sunghwan and his Legos spread out across the living room. Jisung had to work on this track for Changbin and he also had to watch the kid so he decided to multitask. I mean, how hard could it be to take care of a three year old?

Jisung found out his answer within five minutes when said three year old completely trashed his house with Legos. He couldn't walk two feet without stepping on one of the bricks, making him bite his lip in pain so he wouldn't let out a yelp.

“I'm just going to let myself in!” The second day of baby-sitting, Changbin just appeared in his apartment for no reason. This was probably the worst possible situation is overly loud friend could've walked into. Jisung could practically see his face morph into confusion, his eyes widening and his jaw dropped. “Since when do you have a kid?” He asked loudly. Even a deaf person could hear him at this point. “When did you get laid bro? You've been bitchless —”

“Okay!” Jisung cut him off, covering Sunghwan's ears. “Let's not use colorful language when there is a child present.” Only after Changbin muttered a half-hearted sorry did Jisung uncover the kid's ears. “He's my neighbor's kid —”

“You knocked up your neighbor?—”

“Will you please shut the fuc — shut up please?” Jisung took a deep breath. “I'm baby-sitting. His mom has job interviews and she asked for help and I couldn't say no. The kid's too cute.” He shrugged. Just thinking about you made a small blush creep up on his face, his ears turning red. He's never been down so bad for a person before like this.

“Holy shit —” Changbin completely ignored the don't curse there's a fucking child in front of you warning. “You like his mom.” He mouthed the last two words. Guess he didn't trade all of his brain cells for those muscles. “I should've known you actually had a thing for older woman when you brought up —”

“Enough of my embarrassing past and just get on with why you're here.” Jisung was not going to relive his teenage embarrassments. He'd done some things he's not so proud of and Changbin took every chance to make sure he never forgot them.

His friend left a while later. You texted saying that you would be home in a few. He took Sunghwan back to your house after cleaning up all the toys in his. All was well.

But everything turned topsy-turvy the second he saw you entering the house with that purple dress you wore for your job interview. It stopped just where Jisung's imagination started to wander down the gutter. It hugged your curves perfectly and accentuated your boobs so well that it made him dizzy.

"How'd it go?" He asked you once you sat down on the couch near him, playing Legos with Sunghwan, who was absorbed in his kids show playing on the TV. Jisung was sitting on the floor, so your bare knees were brushing against his shoulder, creating waves of tingles over him.

"It went pretty well." You answered, moving those magenta stained lips of yours. I wonder what it would feel like wrapped around my cock. Jisung had to mentally slap himself. Whatever sexual attraction he had to you was not disappearing in anyway — if anything, it increased every second he spent in your presence. For some reason, everything you did turned him on. The past few weeks ended in cold showers every day to calm himself down. "You're spacing out. Have something on your mind?"

Yeah, you. "Nah, I was just thinking about this song I was working on for my friend." Nice save. "The beat isn't perfect, you know? I've been tweaking it for days, maybe I should just let it be."

He saw you put your hand on your chin to think. "Well, I don't know much about music but maybe you need a fresh perspective? I think I read that somewhere. Something about not working on it for a while...."

"That... makes sense." He nodded slowly. "Maybe I just need some fresh air, you know?"

Sunghwan perked up at that. He jumped onto Jisung, a big, goofy smile on his face. Jisung found himself seeing you in the kid. His smile, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when he was happy — he was almost exactly like you.

"Jisungie! Park!" He exclaimed with a giggle. "Let's go to park!"

"A park? Now? Maybe tomorrow bud, your mom's probably tired."

"Yeah Sung, we'll go tomorrow. I promise." You ruffled the kid's hair.

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise." You repeated with a laugh. Sunghwan went back to playing with his Legos. "By the way Jisung, if you're free on Friday, you wanna go watch a movie?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah I'd be down." He nodded absent-mindedly, watching the boy run around the room with a Lego car.

"Great." You gave him another one of those smiles before walking to her bedroom. Jisung's eyes were on your ass as you disappeared from the corridor. Wait a minute. Sunghwan will be with his dad on Friday, right? Did you just... ask him out?

"What did mommy say?" Sunghwan asked Jisung.

"Mommies are confusing." He said. "But sexy."

"Sixy?" The kid repeated.

"No — no not sixy! Uh, uh —" Jisung panicked. "Hey, I found this Lego set on Amazon and I thought you'd like it." He quickly whipped out his phone to show him to take his mind off of what he said. God forbid you found that he was talking about how you looked in front of your own kid.

That night after going back to his apartment, he laid in bed, his cock in his hands as he stroked himself to the thought of you. Unconsciously moaning your name loudly (maybe a bit too loud) as he imagined you there, jerking him off with your soft hands and that fuckable face with your big eyes, your lips wrapped around him as you took him in whole — yeah, he came pretty hard after that.

Friday took way longer than Jisung wanted. He was antsy the entire morning in the studio, leg bouncing as he sat on the chair while Changbin recorded in the booth. He was so out of it, he didn't hear his friend calling him thrice from outside the little room until Changbin smacked the back of his head which momentarily brought Jisung out of his dreamland.

How could he focus? When he was just a few hours away from spending an evening with you? Only you? He loved Sunghwan, don't get him wrong but going to a movie together and getting dinner afterwards and maybe — just maybe Jisung could spit out the words he'd been holding hostage inside his mouth ever since he first laid eyes on you. Dear Y/n, I've liked you since the second I saw you in your balcony and I was hoping you could rail me —

The second he got home, he took a shower, brushed his teeth again, and spent twenty minutes trying to decide what he should wear. A suit was too over the top and a normal t-shirt and jeans would look like he didn't care. He had to look cool but interested. In the end he opted for a plain black shirt over his loose jeans. He styled his dark hair with a part in the middle and sprayed some cologne on.

Two mental breakdowns later, he was standing in front of the movie theater where you told him you'd meet him. He tried to act all nonchalant but he was slowly losing his mind as he stood there like a loser (it was for ten minutes).

When you finally arrived, he swore his heart stopped beating for a good few seconds as his eyes raked over your little top that dipped low in the front. Did you do it on purpose? Did you know the way his heart started to a marathon every time he looked at you? How the fuck was he supposed to pay attention to a movie when you were dressed like that?

“Sorry I'm late. Dropping Sunghwan off took a little longer than expected.” You adjusted the strap of your handbag which was resting on your shoulder.

“I just got here too. It's okay.” Jisung played it off coolly. It was all worth seeing that smile on your face. He took a moment to mentally note that he also liked the subtle pink lipstick you wore today, but his favorite had to be that magenta color. Just imagining himself stained in your kisses — his face, his chest, his d —

Han Jisung almost publicly humiliated himself for the nth time this month.

The movie was fine. It was some romcom that you liked. His attention was more on you. Your reactions to everything, the way your eyes sparkled as you pointed to the screen, the way your eyes turned into crescents as you laughed at whatever corny ass jokes Jisung made that weren't even that funny.

Dinner… Dinner was far more difficult. He could barely pay any attention to what you were saying. He was more focused on your fingers and your freshly painted magenta nails. Magenta was going to be his fucking end. He could barely keep himself from imagining how good those freshly manicured hands would look wrapped around his cock. Oh god, he was getting hard again. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when you said, “You want to go home?”

“Huh?”

“You look tired. And I'm probably boring you —”

“No, no — never.” Jisung shook his head.

“Then what's wrong Jisung?”

Fuck it, he couldn't take it anymore. “I like you Y/n.” Silence. The silence after that was killing him. He swallowed hard and took a big gulp of water as his face turned redder than red.

“Well I know that. Why do you think I invited you out on a date?”

Every time Jisung believed he couldn't be more surprised, you just had to go and prove him wrong. “What?” He breathed out.

“I know you like me. You're not very secretive about it.” You chuckled, twisted the pasta in your plate onto your fork. “I like you a lot too.” What the actual fuck? “I never thought I'd like someone so fast after… everything. But you proved me wrong.” You shrugged. “But my real question is… do you jerk off to me every night?”

That's it. Jisung knew the thin walls of his apartment would come back to bite him someday in the future. He was betrayed by his own house. He was absolutely mortified you heard him fisting himself to you. He turned impossibly more red. He could barely stutter out a response but he stopped when he saw that teasing smile on your face.

“It's a good thing I feel the same way.”

The cab ride home was torture. Not only did you like him. But you wanted to fuck him too? And it definitely did not help whatsoever that you hand rested on his thigh and slowly inched upward, agonizingly slow towards the obvious tent in his pants. His dick was so hard it hurt in the confines of his pants. He bit down on his lip so hard when you brushed over his bones and then started to palm him through the fabric. Oh fucking hell… You were teasing him. He could see that smirk on your face as he almost whined when you pulled away because the cab stopped.

The second you stepped foot in his apartment, he pushed you against the wall next to the door and smashed his lips against yours. Hungry and needy. He pressed his body against yours, pulling you along to his bedroom (how he got there, he had no clue). His hands were everywhere. Touching and caressing every part of you. Your hair, your waist, your ass — it was heaven. You threaded your fingers through his fingers, lightly tugging at the strands. It was enough to elicit a soft moan from him, muffled by the kiss.

“Tell me Jisung…” You said quietly as you pulled away from him. “What did you imagine about me?” You pushed him onto the bed and as you got on your knees. He lifted his hips as you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, releasing his dick. It was red and stained with precum and so hard.

But you didn't do anything. “Please.” He whimpered. “Do something.” You smiled at him deviously before beginning to stroke him at a slow pace. Too slow. “F-Fuck.” He threw his head back with a groan. You were barely doing anything and he was so far gone. You carefully took him into your mouth, inch by inch. Your mouth was warm, your plush lips wrapped around his cock was making him lose his mind. He wanted to grab your hair and fuck your throat but he couldn't move his body. It was like he was frozen, only able to buck his hips into your mouth for some kind of friction. You finally — finally started bobbing your head up and down, the tip of his cock touching the back of your throat each time. “S-Shit. Fuck. Don't stop.” You went faster after that, fondling with his balls. Your tongue swirling around the tip and your hands on his balls, he could feel that band in his belly about to snap. “Fuck. Fuck I'm gonna —” Before he could reach that sweet release, you pulled away with a pop, innocent eyes staring up at him. He let out a loud groan at that. “W-Why —”

He stopped himself when you stood up and took off your pants and panties and crawled onto his lap, sinking onto him slowly. A soft moan escaped both your mouths when his dick was completely inside you. “Fuck you're big.” You whimpered, trying to adjust to his size. It gave him a bit of an ego boost. You started to bounce on him, letting out the most sinful moans Jisung ever heard in his entire life. “Perfect little dick. Filling me up so well.” You groaned. His dick twitched. Your walls were sucking him in, milking him. It was too much. He was already on edge from his denied orgasm, but the way you were talking to him? Fuck. He wasn't going to last.

“S-So tight.” He whimpered. “F-Fuck. Feels good.”

“Feels good baby?” You asked. He nodded frantically. “Are you gonna cum?” He nodded again. “Hold it for a bit. Only good boys get to cum. Have you been a good boy?”

“Y-Yes, fuck —” He squeezed his eyes shut as your walls clenched around him. “Oh fuck —” Jisung was determined to save the last of his dignity (not like he had much in the first place) and tried to get you off too. He met your thrusts half way, his dick repeatedly brushing against that spongy spot deep inside you.

“Right there.” Your nails dug into his skin but he didn't give two shits. “‘M so close.”

“Let me make you cum too.” He kissed your chest, your breasts and wrapped his lips around your hardened buds, alternating between the two of them. From the fucked out expression on your face and the way he was two seconds from filling you with his seed, he two took of his fingers and found your clit in no time, rubbing harsh circles on the sensitive numb making you cry out as your orgasm washed over you. Jisung came a moment later, his body spasming as he came down from his high.

“Fuck, that was amazing.” You panted, your head laying on his shoulder. Jisung could barely even nod in reply. His dick was still inside you as your juices and his pooled onto his thighs and onto his sheets. It was a mistake to look at where your swollen pussy lips swallowed him whole and he could feel himself getting hard again.

Yeah. He definitely had a thing for mommies.

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[bucks-babe]

More to Love

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky wants to take care of you in every sense of the term; so what if you gain a bit of extra fat because of it?

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Slight angst, mentions of past relationships, kind of told in flashbacks, shitty ex boyfriend who forces reader to lose weight (not Bucky), Bucky is so in love it hurts, Bucky takes care of his woman, body insecurity, weight gain because of a healthy relationship, smut, CMNF (only for a little bit), looking in the mirror while on Bucky’s lap (yes, that needs a warning), crying during sex, daddy kink, soft!dom Bucky, so much fluff, no use of Y/N, Bucky calls reader love, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), implied creampie, Bucky loves his girl’s tummy, emotions.

A/N: This is NOT fetishizing weight gain, nor unhealthy habits. Bucky is not forcing the reader to gain weight to make her attractive to him; he loves his girl at any weight and just wants to take care of her. I made this fic because I want to feel like the parts of my body that I’m insecure about can still be desirable. Also this turned out way softer than the drabble, but there is still smut going on. Thank you to the amazing @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading; however, any and all mistakes are my own.

Ever since you started dating Bucky, you have noticed how different he is compared to your previous partners. Not just because he is a 6 foot something brick house, but also in the way he treats you. You’ve never experienced such raw and untamed love directed solely at you, or the way his eyes seem to bore into your soul, memorizing every quirk and tick you possess. It’s almost overwhelming how much he loves you.

Never before have you felt so comfortable in a relationship. Previous boyfriends never really felt like boyfriends, rather personal trainers. Maybe you were bad at picking them out, but your last partner was a gym rat, constantly obsessing over what he was eating and how many hours he put into the gym that week. The obsession he had for the gym followed through into your relationship. If you wanted to spend time with him, it had to be at the gym. 

He would construct fitness plans for you, saying that the softness of your stomach needed to go to make him happy, and you let him. You don’t know why you let him weasel his way into your head, but he did. Eventually, it went past the gym, and he would only allow you to go to a certain restaurant to eat because the others had way too many unhealthy options, side-eyeing you for ordering a side of fries instead of a salad. Cooking at home became a battle since you weren’t supposed to eat anything fatty or fried, nothing you did was ever good enough for him. 

Over the course of that relationship you did end up losing the extra weight you had, but also weight that you didn’t need to lose, and soon you were “too skinny” and “didn’t have enough meat on your bones for him.” He left you soon after - over text. It was something along the lines of, “I wanted to see if I could make you attractive, but you don’t look good, fat or skinny.” It crushed you. The man that you thought you were in love with, and who loved you, broke your heart. You never gained the weight back, hoping against hope that he could come back and realize he was wrong about you. He never did.

It took you a long time to get over that piece of shit, but what he said about your body never left - you were still terrified to gain weight. But then you met Bucky, and for a while you forgot about that asshole. You had the sweetest, sexiest, kindest man that you were able to call yours, so why would you even think about your past?  It started so slow you didn’t even notice until it was too late. 

You groaned, stretching out in bed, arm reaching out for your boyfriend, only to find his side of the bed cold and empty. Squinting, you try to open your eyes, sunlight forcing them to close. After a few tries, you get them open and look at the time - 7:19. Bucky must be back from his morning run. Searching the floor for his henley, you walk into the kitchen to find Bucky cutting up your favorite fruit in a bowl, shirtless. The both of you know that he can hear you walk up to him, hell he probably heard you the moment you woke up, but he humors you when you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder as he jumps in surprise.

“What’cha doing, honey,” you murmur into his back, peppering it with kisses.

“Makin’ something to eat after runnin’ with Steve all mornin’. Hope I didn’t wake ya up, Love.” You feel the shiver that shoots up his spine at your touch.

“No, I was just about to get up anyway, just so happens that I woke up to this sight.” 

Bucky turns only his head to look down at you, a crooked smile adorning his scruffy face, “And you can wake up to it every day. Now how about you go sit your pretty little ass down on the couch and get our show ready? I’ll be there in a minute.”

You place a chaste kiss to his cheek before slapping his ass on the way out earning a glare from him. Bucky knows that you don’t eat in the morning but he has devised a plan because you not eating in the morning will follow to you only eating at dinner tonight. 

You hear his heavy foot fall as you’re getting comfy on the couch only for him to pick you up and rest his back against the arm of the couch, setting you down in his lap, his chest to your back. He ignores your squeals and settles down. 

While you are watching your show, Bucky is watching you, and before you know it, a piece of pineapple is passing your lips. Chewing happily, you don’t even notice that Bucky has you eating until the deep rumble of ‘good girl’ is whispered in your ear. A deep throb settles in your core as you continue to eat each piece he puts in your mouth, desperate to hear his praise again and again.

That was how it started, Bucky feeding you in the mornings. But it slowly progressed from that. He was always making sure that you’ve eaten your three meals a day, no if, ands or buts. You were an Avenger after all so of course you needed to eat to stay healthy with all the missions and training you go through. Bucky noticed the pudge on your belly coming back way before you did.

“Love, what is this movie even about? I’m so confused.” The smile in his voice was impossible to miss. With him against the headboard and your back resting against his chest, you couldn’t see his face. Whatever explanation you gave, Bucky didn’t hear a word of it. As you repositioned in his lap, you sat up, just a bit, but his hands on your stomach felt it, the small bit of fat soft and warm in his hands. 

To this day you have no idea why Bucky stripped off both of your clothes and pounded you for hours, but he did, and that little bit of soft flesh made him go a little crazy.

During this time you didn’t even realize that you were gaining your weight back because for the first time since you met your last boyfriend, you had so much more energy. You didn’t need extra naps throughout the day, or feel dead tired after doing absolutely nothing. Now, your body had enough nutrients to function properly, the hump of your belly was there because you were healthy. You’ve had it all your life, nothing getting rid of it. To you it made you feel like you were fat, but to Bucky, oh, it showed him that you were a strong, healthy woman.

Everyday after training, you would boast to him about how much better you’ve been doing in training, claiming Natasha said so. Of course you have always been a very capable agent, but now that you had enough fuel to support the vigorous Avenger training, you’ve been doing better than ever, and Bucky couldn’t have been more proud; however, it all came to a head when you finally caught on to your weight gain.

Fresh out of the shower, you head over to your closet. It was no special occasion but Bucky being the perfect boyfriend that he is, wanted to take you out on a date, just because. After finding Bucky’s favorite pair of lingerie and putting them on, you huff. You don’t remember the bottoms feeling so tight. You passed it off however, thinking that maybe you did something to them in the wash.

But what you couldn’t ignore was how your favorite dress wasn’t fitting. It took way too much wiggling to get it past your hips and waist. What really set you off though, was that you couldn’t zip it. Already too tight on you before zipping, now you couldn’t get the damn thing to move more than an inch. Looking in the mirror you found the reason why the zipper refused to move. The small pocket of fat on your tummy that you thought you got rid of, was back, and larger than it ever was. 

Turning to the side, you saw just how much it was coming out. You could’ve sworn you were a few months pregnant. How could you have missed this? It took a while, but you got the dress off so you could investigate the fat on your stomach. Gasping, you tried to suck in, in the hope that it would disappear. It didn’t.

Tears sprung in your eyes. How could Bucky find this attractive? Why hasn’t he said anything about this? How could you let yourself go like this? All these horrible thoughts raced through your head, before you heard Bucky’s sweet voice through the door asking if you were ready.

All of those little moments lead you to where you are now, standing in front of your mirror crying, while Bucky patiently waits on the other side of the door, thinking all is right with the world, as yours is falling apart right before your eyes. Before you can hide yourself, Bucky opens the door. Immediately, you move to cover yourself up, disgusted with the shape of your body hoping that he doesn’t look at what you can’t cover. Bucky, however, looks directly into your eyes first, seeing the pain and tears.

In two steps he reaches you and his strong arms envelop you, hands running up and down your back. “Love, what’s wrong?” You only bury your face in his chest further. He walks back to the bed, pulling you in his lap as he sits. Your naked body pressed up against his fully clothed one. Bucky’s right palm slides down your back and he tries to squeeze your waist when you jerk away from him.

“No! Don’t touch me there!” Bucky feels his heart crack in his chest at your repulsion, not understanding why you don’t want him to touch your waist. He doesn’t let you leave his lap however, keeping you in place.

“Why, Love? What did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything. Look at my stomach, Buck!” You bite back another sob when he does, confusion written all over his face, not understanding what you’re trying to convey. “It’s FAT!” You all but scream, failing at trying to escape when his arms pull you down once again.

“Love…” He gets cut off by another sob falling from your lips. Instead of trying to talk you down, Bucky brings your lips to his and keeps your head in place. The only movement is the wobble of your lower lip as you try to contain your sobs. 

A few minutes pass by before Bucky can’t stand it anymore, and he tilts your head and moves his lips. The kiss tastes of your tears but neither of you care. Clawing at his back, you try to get closer to him, wanting him to consume you. 

When his hands trail down your sides, you pull away. Strong arms spin you around, naked back to clothed chest. The warm palm of his right hand forces you to look at yourself in the mirror.

“Buc..”

“No, Love. Look at how fucking sexy you are.” With his right hand still holding your chin, his left trails down your body, stopping over the swell of your tummy. “So goddamn pretty, you know that?” He whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck, cock twitching under your ass.

He spreads his legs, forcing yours to open as well and he groans deep and long at the sight of your pussy. “God, Love, don’t you see how pretty you are, so soft and strong and all mine.” You try to pull away, the feeling of looking at yourself too much, but Bucky’s strong hands don’t let you move an inch. “Feel what you do to me? Feel how hard my cock is?”

 It’s too much, all of it. His praise, his touch, the sight of you. More tears well in your eyes and a pitiful whine leaves you. “Can’t, Bucky. I-I…” You have to close your eyes; you can't look at yourself any longer.

“Shhh, Love, you can, baby. Let Daddy take care of you. Let him show you how pretty you are. Open your eyes for Daddy.” At his request, you open your eyes, only to find his already on you. With tears still pouring from your eyes, Bucky wipes them away before laying you down on your back. 

If there was anyone who knew your limits better than yourself, it was Bucky. He knows that having you look at yourself right now would only do more harm than good, but showing you how much he loves you is a whole different story. Before laying down with you, Bucky takes his clothes off, needing to feel you against his bare skin. “I love you so fucking much, you know that? Never met a stronger,” Bucky plants a kiss on your cheek, “more beautiful,” another kiss, “smarter, sweeter, perfect woman in all my life.” 

With each kiss you can't tell if your erratic heart is slowing down or speeding up. This is such a foreign feeling for you, such unbridled love. Your head falls deeper into the pillows, Bucky’s scent enveloping all your senses, and you can’t think properly, your brain feeling fuzzy at the heedy stare Bucky is giving you.

“Daddy, I don’t, I can’t.” You don’t even know what you are trying to say, words no longer coming to you, but Bucky does, he always knows what you need.

“I know, Love. You just need Daddy to make you feel better, make you see how perfect you are for him.” Wrapping his arms around your back, he pulls you in closer to him, both of you gasping when his hard cock presses up against your naked core. Without thought, you grind your hips up, chasing the friction of his silky skin.

“All those tears, and all you wanted was Daddy’s cock, huh? Just want Daddy to fuck you dumb, turn that little brain off for you? Don’t worry, Love, Daddy’ll take care of you.” You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him closer, not leaving any space between the two of you, the hard planes of his abdomen pressed against the soft swell of yours.

Bucky doesn’t wait for you to beg, he can’t, not now, he needs to be inside of you, lining himself up, he pushes in, inch by perfect inch.”Shit, Love, you feel how perfect you are for me?”

Your lips part, letting a breathy whine out. Bucky doesn’t wait, slowly pulling out until only his plush tip is still inside, just to roll his hips back in. “Fuck. Look at Daddy, look at what you do to him.” It takes everything in your power to open your eyes and look at Bucky, the pleasure almost too much just after one thrust, but when you do, the sight that meets you is glorious. Face flushed, brows drawn together, lips parted, Bucky looked debauched. 

“Good girl, see that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Without warning, Bucky rolls the both of you over, with you on his lap. “Since you listen to Daddy so well, why don’t you ride his cock, let him look at his pretty girl bounce?” This snaps you out of your stupor, there’s no way you’re going to let him see your stomach jiggle.

“Bucky, I can’t, not this way. What about the other way?” You try to turn around, but his left hand grabs your waist while his right lands a harsh slap to your ass causing you to clench around him. 

“Ah, ah, ah, Daddy wants to see your face. You hear me?” Before you can complain again, Bucky thrusts his hips up, hard. You both moan, caught up in the sensation of his cock inside of you. Your hands fly to his chest, trying to balance yourself before you tumble off. Bucky doesn’t let up, thrust after thrust, pounding into your pussy.

“Oh, fuck! Daddy, right there, shit, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, just that you don’t want him to stop. The room is filled with the salacious sounds of your combined moans along with the clapclapclap of his thighs meeting your ass.

“So fucking good, Love, you know that? This pussy was made for me. Fucking perfect. Look at this little belly jiggling while I fuck you, shit, gonna make me blow my fucking load early. You’re. So. Fucking. Gorgeous.” Each word was punctuated by a vicious thrust. Ice pours down your spine, in the midst of pleasure you completely forgot why you didn’t want to do this position. He’s fucking staring right at your belly, hands gripping at your extra fat, just watching it ripple with each brutal thrust of his hips.

“Bucky stop, don’t look there, I don’t…” The rest of your sentence gets cut off when Bucky somehow fucks you even harder, effectively making your tummy move more. It’s too much: the feral look in his eyes, the perfect angle of his cock, and his beautiful moans. Despite your best efforts, you feel your orgasm building up. The little coil hidden under the small hump of your belly pulls tighter and tighter, and Bucky can feel it. He can feel your pussy pulsing around him so he moves his hands from your belly to your hips, grinding them against his coarse hairs with sharp thrust.

It pulls tighter and tighter until it snaps, dragging you under, blood roaring through your ears. You vaguely hear Bucky’s voice, “There you go, give it to Daddy. So good for me, soaking my cock. God, I fucking love you.” Bucky stops moving, giving you time to come down from your high. Still gasping for air, you fall down onto his sweaty chest, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. You’re pulled out of your haze by Bucky. “Think you can give me one more? I think you can.”

He flips you over, back landing on the bed while he throws your legs over his shoulders, effectively causing your stomach to roll up, small pockets of fat pushing out. You whine, not wanting Bucky to see it, but he fucking loves this. Loves the bit of extra fat that has found its way under your chin, the soft flesh around your strong thighs, and the belly that fits perfectly in his hands. He loves it because it proves your healthy, that he’s feeding you well, well enough that you can train to your full potential, have the energy to do what you want to, not always be so tired you don’t want to do the things you love to do, that you aren’t afraid to eat what you want. That’s what he fucking loves, taking care of you and the way your body has changed has absolutely zero affect on his attraction to you. He will always think you are the most beautiful woman in the entire universe.

“Love, you don’t understand how fucking sexy you are, do you? Look at how well we fit together.” He cups the back of your head, making you look at your stomach as he enters you again, making your belly bulge more. “Do you see this, Love? See how pretty you are, and it's all for me, isn’t it?” The adoration in his eyes was almost too much, the swell in your chest threatening to burst as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his love with every stroke. Bucky wasn’t fucking you anymore, he was making love to you, showing you how much you mean to him. 

Bucky takes one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together, placing your hand on your tummy, feeling the bulge of his cock underneath your softness. “Daddy, feels so good. Fuck. Love you so much.” Bucky’s hips stutter when you say you love him, it has always been his weakness, the utter devotion and vulnerability that you allow him to experience is something he will never take for granted. Tears were streaming down your face, eyes probably red and puffy. Leaning forward, Bucky places his forehead on yours, eyes locked into yours.

“I know, Love. Can’t even begin to describe how much I love you.” Bucky can feel you getting closer again, pussy clenching around him, hands scrambling to grab onto something: his hair, back, hands, sheets, you can’t decide, the pleasure coursing through you too much. “Give it to me Love, make your Daddy proud and cum on his cock. Know you want to, just let go.” With two more thrusts, your eyes roll back, another orgasm rolling through you. This one shorter than the last, but no less intense. Bucky finds his release right after, burrowing his face into your neck, holding you to him, wanting to be as close as possible. 

It takes a few minutes, but the both of you calm down, hearts returning back to normal. You’re the first to speak, breaking the comfortable silence. “You knew I was gaining weight, didn’t you?” With his softening cock still buried deep inside you, Bucky lifts his head up a small smirk adorning his face. 

“Of course, but this little pudge,” he grabs your tummy and almost kneads it, “is because you’re healthy. You have so much more energy recently, and I fall deeper in love with you every single time I see how fucking happy you are now. You make me so proud to be able to call myself your boyfriend. You're so beautiful and I promise you that I will spend everyday for the rest of my life proving that to you.”

You don’t have any words to respond, so you just wrap your arms around him, breathing in his scent. And of course Bucky keeps true to his promise, and you believe him when he tells you that you are the most beautiful woman because he proves it to you everyday, in and outside of the bedroom.

[nanivinsmoke]

His. Hers. Ours.

married!Toji x nannyF!Reader

summary : what she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.

warnings and tags: raw sex, nothing but straight fucking! creampie, ass worship, slight cock warning, reader has a big ass, age gap (reader’s in her 20s and toji is in his late 30s), breeding, cheating (married toji), also i gave his wife a name (megumi’s mom), fingering.

“too b-big—g’na cum, toji~” you breathed, earning a smack to your cunt as the older man fucked you, his stroke slow yet deep; making your cunt gush.

“huh? didn’t quite hear that” his words teasing, his teeth nibbling on your ears, sending chills up your spine.

“oh fuck—cumming for you, daddy!” he thrusted inside of you harder, his tip hitting your spot each time, making your eyes roll back—showing off the whites.

“mhm, let it all out. we gotta hurry up too, don’t want wifey to catch us” he grunted, reaching around to clutch on your boob. you held on his forearm, pussy frantically clenching around him as you came.

“did you just get off at the thought of her catching us? hm? want her to see her nanny cumming all over her husbands cock, hm?” the hand that was on your boob, was now around your neck; choking you while you continued to cum.

“fuck, you’re so wet—shit gonna cum~” with a few more sloppy thrusts, he emptied his load inside of you, cunt full of cum—making you shiver from how warm it was inside of you. he pulled himself out of you, with the rest of his seed pooling out—before he got up from the king sized bed to get dressed.

“c’mon, she should be home any minute now.” he spoke, putting his sweatpants on along with his grey t-shirt; tossing you your own clothes. you slowly grabbed your pink shirt, slipping it over your head—trying to reach for your panties, which he happily snatched away. “toji!~”

“these are for me. if you’ll be a good girl, you’ll get them later. now hurry up and get dinner started, I’ll put the sheets in the wash” you wanted to reach for them again, but you knew that would only lead to you being put through the mattress and being caught by mrs. fushiguro. you slipped on your khaki miniskirt, walking towards the kitchen to get started on dinner; trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of his cum dripping down the sides of your legs.

you’ve been with the fushiguro’s for a few months now, working as their nanny. even though mrs. fushiguro was currently pregnant with their only child, she still wanted you to be her nanny until the baby gets here.

when you first met toji, he answered the front door shirtless, your eyes were stuck on his abs; mentally counting each of them. he brought you back to reality with a snicker, making you lock eyes with his dark green ones.

“eyes up here sweetheart. what can i do for you?” his voice was deep, causing you to shiver and press your thighs together. you readjusted yourself, gripping your suitcase and your bag that held your laptop and other things.

“im your nanny. mizuki called me and told me i could start today?” you adverted your gaze, trying to stop the thoughts about him that filled your mind. “oh, my wife? yeah she did mention something about that. let me show you where your room is” he reached for your suit case and you immediately cringed, the man was married! and here you were thinking about how you would let him have his way with you.

you vowed from that day on that you would just let him be your boss. well, at least you tried to. toji couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. he studied every curve and every inch of your body, loving the way your ass stood out in everything you wore. be it jeans, sweatpants or pajamas, your ass poked through them. he tried so hard to contain himself and remember that he had a pregnant wife, but seeing how full it looked when you bent over; had him cumming in his pants.

your thoughts about him only became stronger, especially at night. panties to the side, while you rubbed your swollen clit—thinking about him teasing your aching hole, lowly moaning his name as you released, and drifting off to sleep afterwards. it was a nightly routine for you and as much as you tried to ignore it you couldn’t. especially today.

mizuki was away at work, while you and toji were at home. toji sat on the couch with a beer in hand, watching television like always. you learned that he was currently unemployed, which meant that he was home with you all the time. you were walking around with a wooden basket, picking up the dirty clothes that were strewn around the house, all thanks to him.

ignoring his presence, you picked up the laundry in the living room, his eyes immediately moving from the t.v and onto you. he watched the way you moved and then he noticed how short your skirt was. it barely covered you, which made your cheeks hang out from under it. he sat up correctly on the couch and rested a hand on his crotch, rubbing himself through it.

you were oblivious to his gaze, forgetting that he was there, until you bent over—giving him a view of your whole ass. he couldn’t contain himself anymore and you had the nerve to have a thong on too?

“y/n. come here” you huffed and let out a hm, turning around only to be left breathless. there was a huge tent in his sweatpants which he was gripping, his face was a little contorted and his eyes were low and lidded. you felt your body get hot and you tried your best to ignore it.

“toji, i-i gotta get started on this laun—“

“come. here.” his voice was low, yet intimidating as he beckoned you with his finger. as much as your heart told you to not go over there, you couldn’t ignore the strong throbbing sensation you felt in between your legs. you dropped the basket in your spot and walked over to him, sitting down on his lap—which made him groan once he felt your warmness.

his hands immediately squeezing your plush backside, “you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t— shit—you’re so fucking thick~” he didn’t even bother to finish his sentence, too busy gripping and loving on the fat of your ass. you couldn’t help but to blush. the more he rubbed and smacked, the more aroused you became. and before you knew it, you were grinding your lower half on his hard clothed cock.

“shit. you’re a tease aren’t you~” he chuckled, bucking his hips upwards, making his cock press onto your clit— eliciting a loud mewl from your plump lips. he continued his movements for some time, his pants now coated with your slick, before he stopped and picked you as he stood up from the coach.

reading the expression on your face, he smirked and held onto your waist while walking towards his bedroom, “need some more space, so I could fuck you the way i want to.” and that’s what led to you being filled with a married man’s seed.

———

“dinner was soo good, y/n! any man would be lucky to have you as his wife” mizuki devoured the last bite of her food, washing it down with her iced tea before rubbing her growing baby bump. you smiled and began to pick up the dishes, trying to ignore the guilt that was swarming inside of you.

“thank you and you’re already a good wife, so i know you’re gonna be a great mother” you couldn’t face her, not when you had just sat on her husband’s dick almost 30 minutes ago. mizuki rose from her spot and went around the table to kiss her husband, before going to the connecting kitchen to hug you—making you cringe.

“you coming up?” mizuki turned to ask toji, who sat at the table, sipping on the last of his beer. “yeah, after I get another beer” the raven haired woman nodded and walked down the hall to their shared bedroom and closed the door. silence followed her departure, the only thing being heard in the room was the sound of the sink’s water and the clinking of dishes in the sink as you washed them.

you finished the dishes in a hurry and put them in the dishwasher to dry, drying off your hands before turning to leave. “goodnight!” you didn’t wait for his response, making a beeline to your room and shutting the door behind you. with a sigh, you began peeling your clothes off of your body, cringing when you saw the stains that were up and down your legs; all thanks to his cum.

the shower’s water was scalding when you stepped in, but that’s what you needed. you needed to punish your self, to cleanse yourself free of him. it was wrong on so many levels, yet it felt so right. the way he touched your body and made love to every part of you. the way he knew what peaked your arousal and what made you cum, felt so very right. no matter how much you wanted to stop, your body craved more of him, especially since he was someone else’s.

after your much needed shower, you grabbed your towel and headed back into your room; jumping when you seen toji sitting at the foot of your bed, making your drop it. the cool air made your nipples stand at attention and he took notice to it, licking his lips and beckoning at you with his finger. “toji…we can’t. you’re married,” you bent down, picking up your towel and wrapping it around you.

he said nothing and stared into your eyes. your knees growing weak and your thighs pressed together, you could feel your body getting warmer by the second. this time, he didn’t ask you again, instead you acted on your own and dropped the towel—before sitting your wet body on his lap. “good girl,~” he praised, before latching his to one of your hard nipples, sucking on it and swirling it around his tongue.

moans flew out of your mouth as the overwhelming sensation caused waves of pleasure to erupt inside of you. but, you didn’t want to be teased anymore, you desperately needed him back inside of you. you lifted up slightly and skillfully pulled his throbbing hard cock out of sweatpants, before lowering your slick coated cunt down onto him.

with a pop, he let go of your nipple as the two of you sucked in some air. “so—fucking….tight.” his big hands immediately went to your ass, gripping it when you began to bounce up and down. he filled you up with each bounce, the way he stretched you out had you going crazy. your tits bounced like crazy in front of him and he couldn’t help but to reattach his mount to them again, increasing your pleasure.

“shit, toji! s-sofuckinggood! i love this dick so—much,” you babbled, so drunk off his cock. he removed himself from your swollen buds, smashing his lips on yours—his tongue taking over your own. “you must really want her to catch you fuck her husbsnd, huh?” the feeling of your gummy walls clenching around him, gave him an answer and he lowly chuckled.

he gripped your hips and picked you up, pulling out of you when he flipped you on your knees, making you whine in response before he shoved himself back into you. you buried a scream into the velvet blanket underneath you, eyes rolling back as he pounded your cunt sloppy—your ass clapping against his pelvis with each thrust.

“cum for me. let her hear how much you love her husband’s dick~” he taunted, slapping your ass hard and pushing himself deeper inside of you; his tip kissing your cervix. you gripped your blanket and deepened your arch, feeling yourself coming undone around him. “cumming—cumming for you daddy!”

he was right behind you, his thrusts hard and sloppy when his dick twitched, pumping his load inside of you—filling your tummy. pulling out of you, his cum dripped out and onto the bed, as he pushed his wet cock back into his pants; leaving you fucked out of your mind.

———

you sat dazed at the dinner table, cunt sore and wet, while toji’s thick fingers teased your clit; only to be brought out of it by mizuki. “you okay y/n? i heard a scream too last night.”

you looked up and away, blushing as you recounted what happened last night. “y-yes. i just had a b-bad dream and i couldn’t get any s-s-sleep after that,” you lied, trying to fight the moan that wanted to leave your mouth as toji stuck a finger inside of you.

“aw man, how about you get some rest tonight?don’t worry about your duties today, toji will take care of you. isn’t that right?” toji nodded and smiled, fingers pumping in and out of you.

oh he would be taking more than care of you tonight.

[leaentries]

through it all | luke hughes

summary: when the comments start getting to her, luke is there to show his girl he'll be there through it all.

warnings: rude comments, body shaming, fat shaming, angst (w/ a happy ending), swearing

wc: forgot to keep track but a lot

The constant ticking of the clock seemed to mock you, counting away the time wasted reading those insufferable words. You typically veered away from the comment section altogether, but something about the empty apartment weakened your resolve. 

Being away on a roadie, Luke didn’t understand the trouble that plagued your mind. He always made sure to make you feel like the only girl in the world, so why was it that as soon as he leaves, you fall apart? He didn’t understand how the words of others held so much power over you, how they held you hostage. 

You sat, legs tucked under you, holding your phone with shaky hands. Something in you had hoped for better. Maybe people changed their views about you and everything that came with. Maybe you could finally open social media without the constant fear of ridicule. Yet, you were proved wrong once again. The comments hadn’t changed and neither did the way your throat contracted in disgust and embarrassment.

User4562: still can’t believe luke would date someone like her

Fan93: get this whale outta here pls 

Hater365: luke is so much hotter then her?? shes not even pretty??

User67:  this is kinda embarrassing for her tbh

Fan42: girl needs to learn what the gym is asap

Hater6783: pretty sure her thighs are bigger than his…

User3421: comments did not disappoint💀

Hot tears filled your eyes as the negativity swarmed your senses. How could people be so cruel? Deep sobs wracked through your body as you let your phone fall to the couch. You grabbed the nearest pillow, pulling it into your chest.

You felt suffocated. The weight of being in the spotlight and the tense wave of hate was too much. You couldn’t fully understand why people were so bothered by your appearance or the fact that Luke had chosen you.

Though, in all fairness, you couldn’t grasp why Luke chose you, either. He had a roster of beautiful, fit women at his beck and call, yet he was bouncing his way home to you every night. No matter how many times he expressed his love, it was too big for you to comprehend.

So, there you sat, mascara running down your face, sobbing into a throw pillow because random people on the internet decided you weren’t good enough.

❥.

You must have fallen asleep at some point through your cries, because as your swollen eyes managed to peek open, you noticed the sunlight beginning to shine through your living room curtains. For a peaceful moment, you forgot the previous night’s turmoil. You let yourself fully wake up, slowly sitting to adjust to your surroundings.

Confusion plagued you as you realized you were on the couch. Your face fell with gloom as reality hit you like a truck. Swarms of comments flashed in your mind once more, diminishing any energy you had for the day.

Although, as you slumped back into the cushions, you heard the front door unlock.

Shit.

You grabbed your phone to check the time, only to be met with a black screen. Your phone must have died during the night, rendering your alarm to go pick up Luke, pointless. Standing from the couch, you rush to the kitchen to make yourself look busy.

Luke swung the door open, trudging in with all his bags.

“Hey angel, I thought you were picking me up?” He chuckled, “You’re lucky Dawson lives in our complex, or I would have been stranded.”

“Yeah-” You cleared your throat trying to will away the tightness, “Yeah, I’m sorry, Lukey. My phone died last night.”

Luke shook his head at your forgetfulness. He quickly set down his bags by the kitchen table, noticing the state of the living room.

His brows furrowed, “Did you sleep in the living room last night?”

Panic flooded deep in your stomach. You should have known Luke would get suspicious. After all, he knew how picky you were about where you slept.

Scrambling for a lie, you responded with a quick, “I was watching a movie and fell asleep.”

Luke walked over to where you busied yourself by cleaning the leftover dishes. You sucked in a breath, hoping you didn’t appear too disheveled. Ducking your head closer to your chest, you tried to look anywhere else but Luke’s face as he took to the spot next to you.

“Y/n?” Luke’s voice came in a soft whisper.

When he didn’t get a response, he gently reached to grab the faucet handle, turning it till the water trickled to a halt. Grabbing the dish towel nearby, he also helped dry your hands while you sat limply.

In truth, you were too afraid to speak, or move. You were afraid that if you looked into Luke’s sorrowful eyes, you’d crack. You’d finally show the version of yourself that the internet sees, the version that he’d hate.

Luke set down the towel, his eyes seeking your downcast face. “Y/n, baby? Please talk to me.”

You shook your head slightly, pulling away as his hand brushed up your arm.

“D-did I do something?” Luke began to worry, he’s never seen you act like this, “Was I gone too long? I thought we facetimed enough, but I can try to call you more.”

It broke your heart to hear him. The simple fact that he assumed it was himself and wanted to fix it. He was too good for you, the internet saw it, you saw it. So naturally, it was only a matter of time before he did too.

“No,” You let out a deep sigh, “It’s not you, Luke.”

He swallowed thickly, nerves beginning to take over his senses. “Then what is it, angel? Please, I just want to help you.”

Hot tears blurred in your eyes, he finally broke your resolve.

Luke immediately pulled you into his chest, his calloused hands moving to cradle the back of your head as you sobbed. He was at a loss. Not knowing what the correct thing to do was, he held you tighter. Luke was prepared to hold you forever if it meant you’d stop crying. He could swear a piece of his heart dies every time he sees you cry.

“Shh, shh,” He soothed as he stoked your hair, “Angel, it’s okay. I promise, I’m here.”

You gripped his hoodie, scared he’d disappear from under your fingertips.

The both of you remained in each other’s embrace until you found your breath regulating. Pulling away, you swore Luke winced when he saw your bloodshot, puffy eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go to the couch.” He guided you carefully, making sure to help you get comfortable enough to talk to him. Once you had settled into his side, he finally nudged you to start talking.

“If you’re ready, will you tell me what’s wrong, baby?”

Deciding to go against your gut will to hide the truth, you pulled out your phone, now freshly charged. You shakily opened up your social media, hitting into the comment section.

“Here,” You placed the phone into Luke’s hand, “Just scroll.”

Upon beginning to read the first few comments, you could see Luke’s face visibly grow stern and frustrated. He bit the inside of his cheek as angry tears welled in his eyes. Luke felt every muscle in his body tense with hatred and fury towards the lowlifes that would dare to say such vile things about his girlfriend.

He shut the phone off and tossed it away, not being able to handle reading another word of the electric slander on your screen.

It took a moment for Luke to compose himself, taking deep breaths and debating on how to approach the situation.

Now, of course Luke had grown used to people writing heavily opinionated articles and hate comments about him. Hell, he even got used to seeing it about his brothers. But something he never considered was the impact it would have on you.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes shot up at Luke’s apology.

Why is he apologizing?

He had his head down, fingers picking at each other. He looked guilty, as if, somehow, he caused all of this to happen.

“What?”

Luke wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“I’m sorry, this is my fault.”

You shook your head sternly, “No it’s not, Luke. It’s mine” Your voice went quiet.

Luke slowly looked up to see fresh tears cascading in taunting rivers down your cheeks.

“It’s my fault for being not good enough.”

He tried to protest, but was only silenced by your words.

“It’s so hard trying to be perfect all the time. Especially when all I’m getting is ridicule for living my life. It’s not fair that I have to have my head on a constant swivel because some person decided my body wasn’t up to standard. It’s not fair that I have to wake up, everyday, worried you’ll realize you deserve so much more than me.”

Luke’s own tears rolled down his face at your confession. He couldn’t quite get a handle on how long you have felt this way.

His beautiful girl.

His heart shattered, “I- I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand, Luke.” You interrupted, “It’s just the way it is. People who look like you don’t love people who look like me.”

His face grew grim.

“No, Y/n. What I don’t understand is how you can think like that. I mean, fuck, don’t you realize you’re every thought I have before bed. And every breath of air I breathe when I wake up. I don’t know who these “people” are that you’re referring to, but I’m not one of them.”

Luke took your face in his hands, “You are my girl. And if I have to spend the rest of our lives proving that to you, then I will.”

There wasn’t much you could say through the thickness of emotion. You threw your arms around Luke, his own coming to dig into your plushy hips.

“Thank you, Lukey.” You mumbled into his neck.

“For what?”

“For loving me.”

“Always.”

Maybe you were enough for him.

[octoberautumnbox]

Discordant Waltz: Juicy Juicy

Oh Sieun (Former IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri) & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, public sex, blood, clothed sex, hair pulling, blowjob, cowgirl, friends with benefits, fuck buddy

Word count: 1.9k

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: i just really wanted to put this out, i think atp I can't write consistently like I used to before all this shit happened. we'll just see how it goes from now on but i swear i still have a bunch of fics i wanna write :))))

bathroom 3rd

sieun fckbd, 2:43 pm

pushy. omw

You, 2:43 pm

The warm, unconditioned air hit you like a brick wall when you first stepped out of the classroom, but with the cool breeze and shade, you really didn't mind any further.

You head for the rendezvous lazily, though it nags at you why she would want to see you during school hours. 

Sieun was leaning against the empty bulletin board between the male and female restrooms when you found her. She was ethereal and fleeting, like a poster from a magazine you weren’t supposed to buy. 

There’s no response from her as you took your careful steps towards her. She looked worried and lost in thought, like something shook her on a deeply personal level. Not that it mattered to you; neither of you were supposed to care about each other in that way.

"Can I help you?" She jumps and stares wide-eyed at you, evidently so surprised that she didn't even see you coming. Apologetically, you push up her chin and force eye contact with her, which pulls her back down to Earth.

"Great," she sighs, relieved, "you're here. Come on!" 

You suddenly find yourself getting dragged by the collar into the women's restroom and shoved into one of the stalls. You're pushed and forced to sit down onto the toilet seat, and your fuckbuddy promptly gets into her own position, straddling you and wrapping her arms around your neck.

This isn't anything new, and by now you know what she's asking for. Place both hands on her ass, feel up her cheeks through the baggy PE pants she loves wearing for some reason. She dives in and captures your lips with hers, and savoring the feeling of your tongues on each other and swapping spit. 

Carelessly you reach under her pants garters and under the waistband of her boxers, fully relishing how her smooth skin and plump ass feels in your hands. She breathes heavily under your touch, and moans spill from her lips with every squeeze. 

"Sorry about the boxers by the way," she whispers, breaking the kiss. "I didn't plan on this." 

You take her lips again, feeling her breath growing less and less stable against yours. "It's fine, baby. You okay?"

She tries to act tough with her retort, but her blushing gives her away. "Less talk, more getting your cock hard enough for me to choke on." 

You estimate a solid minute of making out and groping her ass while she grinds on your clothed dick, making sure she feels you getting harder for her.

Once she's had her fun, she gets up and hurriedly unzips your pants. Meanwhile you work on stripping her of her own pants, yanking off her boxers at the same time. Her wet, pink pussy comes into view, and you place a thumb on her clit to rub while she works hard trying to strip you herself. Noticing she's fumbling and having trouble with your belt, you unbuckle it for her and get up, so she makes quick work of pulling everything off of you. You sit back down onto the toilet and feel the cold ceramic seat on your thighs.

“Thank you. Do you have any other questions?” Sieun asks, but her interest lies elsewhere. She eyes your stiffening cock hungrily while licking her lips. 

Without waiting for an answer, she squats down between your legs and places the tip of her tongue right on the slit of your dick, giving it tiny licks. She allows her saliva to run down from her tongue, watching you watch her start to pleasure you. 

She takes your cock in her hand and starts to jerk you off in long and slow strokes. Her lips hover over your tip, still letting her saliva drip down, and you feel her handjob getting slicker. Between the feeling of her spit coating your cock and the pure visual of her heavenly face in front of you, you grip the toilet seat to try and delay your orgasm just a bit longer.

Satisfied with her work and how your face contorted in pleasure to what she’s doing, Sieun begins her monumental task of taking you into her mouth. She kisses your tip before taking your head between her plump lips. She gives it a little suck before withdrawing, licking her lips, and going back for more. You notice her free right hand working between her legs and tweaking her clit, and just then she moans a small “mmh” onto your head as she goes deeper with her blowjob to half your shaft. 

Unfortunately for her (or perhaps fortunately, you know how sick she is in the head), just half your shaft reaches to the back of her mouth. The sensation of her tongue tracing the veins around your dick sends a shock wave of pleasure up your spine, causing you to reach out and grip a handful of her hair. She looks up at you, expectant and pleading, as you watch her insert two fingers into her dripping pussy. 

Instead of forcing your cock into her throat though, you pull her head away by her hair with a jerk. She gasps at the sudden rough treatment, but displays her submission by panting with her tongue out like a dog. She hasn’t stopped fingering herself, and this lets you know what she wants next. 

Hand still tangled in her hair, you pull her up to your eye level. Take her onto your lap and position your cock onto her wet folds, and earn a groan from her as she relaxes onto you. 

Sieun reaches under her jacket and, you guess, into her bra before pulling out a condom. Seeing you surprised, she smirks at you and rips open the packaging with her teeth.

"You always know how to get me riled up."

She expertly rolls the rubber onto your throbbing cock. She holds your chin up the way you did with her earlier, and she makes you watch as she lets a line of her spit fall from her tongue to her open palm. Finally she rubs it all over your cock, giving it a few pumps while making sure it's lubricated and ready for her.

You grab her by the hips, savoring how her smooth skin feels on your hands, and pull her back onto your cock. She gives in and, carefully but not too much so, she lowers herself onto your dick. She shuts her eyes as you feel yourself sliding into her, first the head, then the shaft, and even more after that, all the while you guide her down by her hips. 

"Never fucking gets old, you stretch me out so well…" Her breathy and quiet voice tells you she's close. She bites her lip and tries to make eye contact with you again. In the split second that you do, you're reminded that Oh Sieun is gorgeous in her own right, and that you're lucky you get to have her like this at all. You admire her big brown eyes, how they shut as she lowers herself onto you, how her lips part as she lets out a deep sigh.

Sieun is dazed; you know she's getting even hornier with you. She's straining herself to keep quiet, knowing that just one mistimed yelp might be all it takes for someone to get curious, check out the bathroom, and catch the two of you red-handed. Despite that, she soldiers on, lifting herself up before letting herself drop again. As she does, you feel her velvet walls clench tighter around you, and you resolve to place your hand over her mouth. Getting the message, she goes for another bounce on your cock, more careful than anything to keep the sound of her skin on yours to a minimum. You hold back yourself, trying to match her control despite the mind-melting pleasure you get from her tight, needy pussy.

You watch as she lifts herself up again. You take a deep breath into your lungs, knowing that you can't hold back much longer: you need her just as much as she needs you. Hands firm on her mouth and hip, her head lolls back as she prepares to take all of you into her again. 

She crashes down onto you like a meteor, sending waves of pleasure throughout both your bodies. With your common sense leaving you, you thrust up into her, reaching a depth she's never experienced in this life until now. She jerks her head in surprise to face you, and almost immediately her eyes point up and then roll to the back of her head. She groans against your palm before developing into a full-blown scream you both were lucky to have muffled. Her cunt squeezes your throbbing cock as it convulses through her orgasm, squirting her cum all over your crotch and waist. 

Don't relent, she loves it when you don't. You thrust up into her again, forcing more of your cock into her heat and vying for your own release. Sieun struggles to scream louder into your hand as she loses her mind to the pleasure.

You thrust harder up into her, matching how tight she's clamping down on you. Inadvertently she makes up for it with how much of her love juice is spraying onto your crotch and lap. Snake a hand across her back and onto her shoulder, and with your other hand on her mouth, pull her down.

Her teeth find your palm an easy target, biting down and drawing blood. She could do nothing else, completely victim to the immense orgasm you were subjecting her to. Fight down your pain; just a bit more. 

It arrives when you least expect it to, and you're sure deep down inside whatever's left of Sieun is thanking whatever god she believes in that you're about to let her go. Your dick throbs with each spurt of cum you shoot into the rubber, unintentionally also hitting her good spots even more. She leaks more and more of her juices onto your lap, and as you look up you find she's also started to cry. You almost feel sorry for her, if not for how unbelievably and blissfully elated she seems to be getting fucked out of her mind. Your blood shows itself, from your palm and dripping onto Sieun's jacket. 

Both your climaxes end gradually, bringing you down from the highest of highs. Your arms fall exhaustedly to your sides and you lose all feeling in them. Sieun collapses face down on top of you, limp and out of breath, but still finds the tiniest bit of strength to nuzzle into your neck. Extend your last greatest effort, swing your arm over the small of her back and hug her. 

“You good?” Your tone is casual, like she didn't just have the orgasm of her life. She weakly nods into your neck and puts a kiss right on your pulse.

~~~

You find yourself walking back to the classroom, unaware of how much time has passed. The sun hides behind a fair bit of cloud cover, and the breeze seems nippier than you remember. 

Sieun is long gone, off to wherever she was before. Hopefully, nobody notices her limp, nor the red stain on her jacket. Above all, you hope nobody questions the hand mark over her mouth. 

But deep inside, you kind of do. She wouldn't be able to say it, but she'll know it's because she gave herself to a man that makes her feel complete.

~~~

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: this was something i wanted to write for a long time, im really glad i got to do something like this now :) thanks for reading!

[munivrse]

: ̗̀➛ Poison

c/w: degradation, mean dom!bada, choking... oh! g!p bada... again...

a/n: uhmm... i also thought i was done. but then i dreampt a scrumptious dream last night and well... here we are so. enjoy. i think this might be it for our tall sexy gf from me. as always, love u! thank u for reading! 🌟

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

“what would they think, huh?” bada’s hand tightens around your neck as she slides her cock in and out of you, “the nations perfect idol getting fucked by her choreographer in the practice room.”

you hadn’t meant for this to happen. she was just so… tall… and broad… and when she placed her hand on your stomach to push you into the correct position, you couldn’t help but let out yelp at the contact. bada’s eyes caught your own in the mirror, her hand slid further down and cupped your cunt through your bottoms, and now here we are.

“would they be disappointed? finding out their cute, naive, innocent little celebrity sluts herself out for anybody willing to fuck her.”

you try to whine but bada’s hand moves from your throat to your jaw, two fingers inserting themselves into your mouth.

you look at her through the mirror again. you look so small against her. she made you feel small. her bangs were wet with sweat, sticking to her forehead. her brows were pinched together, mouth hanging open in a slight pant. her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were hooded and-

“but you would like that, wouldn’t you?” she groans out as your pussy tightens around her, “let them all see you getting ruined by my cock. and when i fill you up and pull out, do you think they’ll be surprised to see my cum leaking out of your pretty pussy? do you think- shit, baby- think they’d be grossed out? hmm?”

bada grins at you, “i think you’re fucking filthy, y/n. letting me pound into you with the door unlocked, with the cameras watching.”

bada slows down to revel at the way you’re sucking her in. the way your wetness coats her cock and leaves a damp spot on her pants. she knows she won’t last long.

“but i love it. the minute i slid myself inside you, you became a brainless whore, drooling all over yourself- i mean look at you,” bada removes her fingers from your mouth and a string of spit follows… you even look a little dazed, “God i fucking love it.”

bada’s balls ache and her thighs hurt from how long she’s been holding out, edging herself just to hear your pretty noises just a bit longer.

“ ‘m gonna fill you up, baby. i’m gonna give you what you want, what you need, okay?” she coos at you, smoothing a hand down your hair.

you can’t even form fucking words, so fucked out you could barely think, let alone respond.

“ ‘s okay baby,” bada starts to slur her words, pleasure taking over her mind, “don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. just let me- fuck. let me…”

bada’s words trail off as pleasure licks up her spine. her eyes squeeze shut and her hand gripping your hip tightens to keep you upright. she lets out a nasty groan as she empties herself inside of you. she staggers forward, a hand coming to brace the both of you against the mirror. her thrusts are inconsistent but unrelenting while she makes sure you’ve milked every last drop out of her.

she pulls out of you, (chuckling when she feels some resistance), and watches as her spunk leaks out of you and onto the floor.

she looks at you through the mirror again,

“don’t give this pussy to anyone else. it’s mine now,” she twists your head to face her own and presses a wet kiss against your lips, “promise me.”

you nod your head and murmur a quick promise, lips searching for hers once again.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

+

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

+

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

+

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

+

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[matchavellichor]

If you’re still taking requests then I have one 😊

Could you please write a scenario where Sebastian goes home for the Christmas holiday to make amends with Anne and Solomon (before shit happens) and he leaves Ominis and Female MC alone. They finally get to spend time alone together for once and find they have a lot more in common than rheu previously thought (they go on walks, study in the library, hang out in the undercroft) and Ominis who already had a secret little crush on her but always thought that Sebastian kinda had a claim on her, starts falling very hard and he finally decides to do something about it. Maybe they’re hanging out in the undercroft one night and he spontaneously kisses her. I would adore if you could take this into NSFW territory, I’d love the awkward yet sensual first-time sex between them if you could (and as much as I love him, please no Dominis, I want the sweet boy we meet in the game) ♥️

A.N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely adored writing this, so precious 🥹 I hope you enjoy! Also thank you to everyone else who sent a request, I'm trying to get through all of them now that I'm on break and have more time 🫶

You Drew Stars

f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - NSFW/Fluff - 5.6k words

Summary: After Sebastian leaves the castle to spend winter break in Feldcroft, Ominis' sentiments for his friend slowly begin to stretch past the bounds of what's platonically appropriate...

Tags: "Un"requited Love, Pining, Miscommunication, Loss of Virginity, First-Times, Friends to Lovers, Supportive Friend Sebastian Sallow

The library was empty as Ominis meandered his way through towards the back shelves, most of the other students having gone home for winter break. To his satisfaction, the few who had stayed didn’t share any habits of curling up with a book an hour before curfew. 

He made his way to the old, royal purple chaise that he usually sat in towards the back corner of the establishment, tucked just behind a shelf on holistic gardening that no one ever frequented. He stilled when he noticed someone already there, the quiet sound of pages turning alerting him of their presence.

“Hey, Ominis,” She glanced up when she heard him approach and eyed the book in his hand curiously. “Some light reading before bed?” 

“Oh, it’s you,” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was, but I think I’ll just head back to—”

“Don’t be silly,” She tucked herself towards one side of the lounge and patted the seat directly beside her. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

“It’s fine, really, you were here first—”

She sighed. “Will you just sit down?”

He shifted nervously in his place for a moment before finally coming to some decision and making his way towards her to take a seat. The chaise sat two people comfortably, albeit a bit cramped, their arms brushing every time either of them turned a page. 

She didn’t seem to mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess the same level of indifference, a faint flush of pink creeping up his neck from beneath his white Oxford when she crossed her legs and her thighs brushed against his.

After finishing up her chapter, she reached over to tilt the front cover of his book towards her, her curiosity getting the best of her. She was awfully forward, if not borderline rude. He tried to disguise the fact he liked it.

“Brontë?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Developed a rebellious streak, have you, Ominis?”

“Something like that,” He mused. “Though, I suppose there are better ways to defy my parents.”

“Oh, certainly. If you spent more time with me you’d have a plethora of creative ideas by now,” She grinned. “Not that sneaking around reading Muggle literature isn’t an admirable offense, of course.”

He breathed out a laugh. “You make an enticing offer, I have to admit.”

“What can I say, I’m enticing.”

Overwhelmingly, he thought.

He accompanied her to her dorm room afterwards and tried to wipe the stupid, dreadful smile on his face the entire walk back to his own.

They fell into a simple sort of routine. 

Even though they had already fit into some category of the word friends, it had never been in the same way that she was with Sebastian. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner. She was absolutely brilliant.

He quickly learned she was just as much of a night owl as he was, often walking into the common room to find her already curled up on one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, waiting for him.

She’d lay out a rotating selection of Muggle literature and make him pick one for her to read to him, even if he insisted he could just cast a simple dictation spell or transfigure a copy in braille.

He quickly found his particular favorite was Jane Austen, to which she teased him relentlessly for being a bleeding heart romantic. Gods, she had no idea. 

She introduced him to Mary Shelley, which he enjoyed just as much, although he posited he’d grow to appreciate just about anything as long as it was her reading it to him.

It was over steaming cups of earl gray in the common room and midday walks through the snow-crested forest that his inkling of a crush morphed into something else. Something more.

Feelings, he recognized rather ruefully, one late evening after she’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his lap in the common room. 

Twisty, hot, almost nausea-inducing feelings. Overwhelming and nerve-wracking, but at the same time so unbelievably good, and warm, and sweet, because how could he feel anything else with her except pleasantries? 

They were the kind where he found he wanted to do nothing more but stay in the private, simple routine they’d created for themselves, just the two of them. Wanted to keep living in the daydream he’d invented about their relationship, where sometimes she’d hug him goodnight a little too tightly, or sit a little too close, and it’d almost feel like she cared for him the same way he cared for her. Almost.

He ignored the guilty, nagging sensation in his gut about her relationship with Sebastian, and decided he’d let his delusions take him through the remainder of their holiday together. 

//

Stretched out on the plush rug in front of the common room fireplace, he wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to nudge him with a stockinged foot for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes.

“Quit it,” He didn’t glance up from where his fingers were combing over the braille in his open textbook. “You’re distracting me.”

“You’re not even studying anymore,” She wriggled her foot out of his hold and poked his thigh again in defiance. “You’re a terrible fake-reader, you know. You don’t even make your eyes move across the lines.”

“Hilarious,” He rolled his eyes, finally closing the book on his lap. “And maybe I’ve stopped studying because someone has been prodding me incessantly for the past half-hour.”

“My mental capacity has reached its limit for the night. And I’m starved,” She picked herself up from the floor, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch, before holding a hand out for him to take. “Come on, up. Let’s get something to eat.”

He waved his wand over his wristwatch. “It’s nearly one in the morning, where on earth are we going to get something to eat?” 

Her lips curled into a smirk as she helped him to his feet. “I have my ways.”

He sighed a defeated breath as he let her tug him along. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m afraid that’s precisely my concern.”

//

“Gods, we’re going to be given twin concussions by a kitchen elf any second now. I hear Tilly’s got a particularly strong arm.” The glowing tip of Ominis’ wand cast the dark surroundings of the Hogwarts kitchens in a red hue. “Keep an eye out for any hurtling rolling pins, will you?”

“Will you stop worrying? It’s fine.” She huffed, sticking her head into one of the pantries of the kitchens before popping out a few moments later. “Apple or blueberry?”

“Both?”

She grinned, slipping back inside. “This is why we’re friends.”

“We’re friends? This is news to me.” 

She narrowed her eyes at where he was poised at the doorway. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be enemies soon enough.”

“My biggest nightmare,” He teased. “I certainly would not want to get on your bad side.”

He followed her as she slipped past him out of the pantry with two magically-steaming pies in hand, making her way towards the exit of the kitchens. 

“You’re certainly a lot smarter than Sebastian, then,” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know what’s good for you.” 

You’re good for me, he thought.

“Call it self-preservation.”

//

“How about dinner with a view?” She stopped at the bottom stairwell of the Astronomy tower, only pale moonlight and the dim, orange glow of the scattered wall sconces to illuminate the barren hallways they’d been treading through.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t really make a difference to me, all of my dinners are without a view.”

“Oh, look who’s all clever all of a sudden.” She rolled her eyes.

He grinned. “I’ve always been clever. Do keep up.”

She balanced the pie in her hands in one arm and took his hand with the other, beginning the long, meandering ascent to the upper tower platform.

Her fingers laced so nicely with his, as if they’d been carved to mold perfectly with his own. Smaller than his, but warm, and familiar. He reveled in the privilege of getting to touch her so freely, conscious of the fact this comfortableness would most likely end as soon as Sebastian was back from Feldcroft.

They sat cross-legged with their arms draped over the metal railing, tucking into their pies and trading spoonfuls of rich, syrupy goodness. It wasn’t as cold as a normal December night, but he cast periodic warming charms over them anyways and transfigured his jumper into a blanket that turned out only marginally big enough for the both of them.

They ate in comfortable, companionable silence and all that he could think about is how he wished he could do this always. In the summer, in the spring, in the fall. That this wasn’t something temporary, something that would be robbed from him in a few short weeks.

“Didn’t realize you were such a messy eater, Ominis.” She glanced up at him, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Where’s all that pureblood dining etiquette gone to?” 

He rolled his eyes and went to feel around for a napkin, but she leaned forward instead. He sucked in a sharp breath as she braced a hand on his thigh and swiped her thumb over the side of his mouth, collecting remnants of blueberry jam, brushing over his bottom lip in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality was brief and fleeting. 

She sat back down in her seat, unphased, and popped the digit in her mouth, bottom teeth scraping over the pad of her thumb, sugar melting on her tongue. 

His mouth felt terribly dry.

He swallowed down the sensation of longing with a spoonful of apple filling and flaky, golden crust.

Bellies full with ungodly amounts of pie, they laid beside each other on the too-small blanket, and Ominis tried to ignore the too-loud sound of his blood rushing in his ears, paired with the too-fast beating of his heart in his chest, and attempted to simply relax. 

He closed his eyes and focused on something other than the consuming feeling of want prickling over his skin, setting his nerve-endings alight with the desire to touch and hold and caress. She wasn’t his to do any of those things with. 

He focused on her soft, steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest beside his. 

“Merlin, it’s beautiful.” She murmured, a dazed quality to her voice.

“I’m sure it is.” He replied just as listless, though undoubtedly for other reasons.

She turned her head to face him. “Want me to describe it to you?” 

He turned to face her as well and he was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of her breath ghosting his cheek. She was so close. His voice was quiet. “Would you?”

She nodded. “Alright, close your eyes.” 

He bit back a smile. “You’re such an idiot.” 

She grinned. “Shut up and do it.” 

He obliged with a disgruntled huff. Pleased, she turned back towards the scenery. 

“It’s a full moon tonight, so everything has this almost…silver glow. Like the whole world’s been dipped in platinum.” She began. 

He tried to picture it in his head, sheens of pale white cast over rolling hills and thick forest.

“You can see the entire lake from up here, never-ending and inky black, and juuust there, past the border of the forest—” She outstretched a hand. “—is Hogsmeade, with its little orange lights.”

She glanced sideways at him to see his eyes still closed, the softest smile brushing his lips. 

She continued, “What’s really pretty though, is the stars. Too many to ever count. Enough to make your head dizzy, really.” She let out a laugh and he decided it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 

“Some are brighter than others, and you can make out little pictures in the night sky. Tonight, there’s Orion looking down on us,” She tilted her head, brows knitting together as she took a moment to study him. “Actually…”

He let out a startled breath when he felt her fingertips make contact with his cheek, dragging over his skin in feather-light touches, tracing the small smattering of beauty marks there.

“You bear a remarking similarity,” She ran her index softly between the points, connecting little invisible lines. “Right here.” 

He swallowed hard. “Do I?”

“Mhm,” She hummed. “It’s awfully pretty.”

She hadn’t pulled her hand back. His skin buzzed with the sensation, because her fingertips were still there, on his cheek, touching him with a softness that he had never known before in his life, with a kindness that he was so unaccustomed to.

Gentle, repetitive drags, skin-on-skin, that same prickling sensation of want having grown into something almost painful inside of him. Bubbling and overwhelming, just underneath his flesh, his fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and feel.

He was conscious of how stupid it was, mind-numbingly so, but he couldn’t bear the aching tension in his chest any longer, and he knew of only one way to acquiesce his restless heart.

He cupped her own cheek in his hand, dipped his chin forward, and captured her lips in his.

Her fingers froze against his cheek, and he could feel the slight surprise in her body language, before it quickly morphed into something else, something accepting, something satisfied. As if she’d been longing just as desperately, had been waiting for this the same way he’d been.

Her hand dragged down to thread through the fine, blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her, eliciting a sharp intake of air through his nose, settling all kinds of feelings deep behind his navel.

She parted her lips for him and he chased the syrupy taste of sugar on her tongue like he needed it to live, swallowed her quiet, breathy pants like mouthfuls of honey, sticky and saccharine and so overwhelmingly her he could drown in it. 

She was so sweet, so soft, and far, far too perfect for his fantasies to have ever possibly done her justice.

When she finally broke away, he could feel her drowsy, sapless smile against his lips. He smiled back, just as giddy, an absolute fool, surely, but in the moment he couldn’t care less. He resisted the urge to dive back in. To run his tongue over her teeth and plead for more, because he knew he would most likely never get enough. 

He was content then, just holding her. She tucked herself into his side, pillowed her head on his chest, and let him run his hands up and down her back. Let him bury his nose in the crown of her hair and revel in the feeling of having her there, feeling too much like his.

//

After that, their routine shifted into something else. Something unspoken, that didn’t really need any labels or clarifications, because it all fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Normal and simple and easy and natural.

Because, of course he got to kiss her goodnight when he left her at her dorm room every evening. And it was only obvious that they’d lace their fingers together on their Sunday trips to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, and sit on the same side of the booth instead of opposite each other like before. And why would she not drape her legs over his lap on that purple chaise in the library, or tuck herself into his side on that dusty, old loveseat in the Undercroft?

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to ever get so lucky, but he thanked Fortune herself every night he got to collect her in his arms and press lingering kisses to her forehead. It was an intoxicating feeling to have everything he wanted right there in his hands, soft and pliable and willing, so perfectly receptive to his touch, so eager to reciprocate with the same amount of fevered passion and affection.

Of course, there were levels of uncertainties to their relationship still. Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask, out of fear of ruining everything. What are we and and for the love of Circe, tell me this means something to you, too poised on the tip of his tongue everytime she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

There were boundaries, admittedly maybe only fictitious ones his own anxious brain fabricated, but ones nonetheless. He’d always ask her first before he kissed her, and she’d always respond with eager nods, blissful smiles, and her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug his mouth down to hers.

He adored kissing her.  Maybe a bit too much. Alright, maybe alarmingly too much.

He’d spend eternity with his mouth on hers if he could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He constantly craved the numb, bruised feeling of his lips after a particularly long makeout session. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, of being so intimate with her, of the soft and sweet and spit-sticky brushes of her tongue against his, of that aching, heated swirl he got just behind his navel. 

She was bliss personified. 

Crossing a leg over the other on that worn, tawny loveseat in the Undercroft, he skimmed through the pages of the paperback in his hand with his wand. A few feet away from him, she was reducing a couple training dummies into splinters of charred wood, spell after spell rolling off her tongue with ease. 

His headstrong little witch. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how powerful she was, admiration swelling in his chest.

After getting her fix of dueling for the day and craving attention, she made her way over to him, sitting beside him, although more accurately, practically sitting on top of him. Not that he minded.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him expectantly, and because he’d give her absolutely anything her little heart desired, he tucked his book away immediately and turned his focus towards her, pecking a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in satisfaction. 

He had the tiniest inkling of a feeling that maybe he was spoiling her rotten. Not that he minded that, either. 

“Tired?” 

She shook her head. “Just missed you.”

He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “Did you now?”

She nodded, staring down at his lips as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. Simple and natural and easy. It was a wonder how normal it seemed, as if it was something they’d always done. 

Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and of course he obliged, because who was he to deny her anything?

He could feel the little exhale of breath against his cheek as his tongue met hers, feel the way she instinctively pressed more against him as if she wanted to mold herself to his very bones.

He loved having her like this. 

Eager and passion-filled, her magic thrumming in her veins with a little added intensity, reflected in the way she kissed him, in the way she touched him. 

She broke away for air, but he couldn’t help the desire to have more. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw, down the length of her neck. He’d never kissed her there and he found himself particularly interested in exploring. She positively melted under his ministrations.

“Ominis,” She sighed his name on a breathy pant and the sound coursed straight to his groin, tugging at that aching desire in his gut, that heated, twisty, starved feeling that was always there when he touched her, lingering someone hidden, nursing it into something insatiable. 

She reconnected her mouth to his and stoked that flickering flame inside him until it was red-hot and all-consuming. 

He tangled his fingers through her hair and explored her mouth with a deliberate slowness. Languid, syrupy drags of his tongue against hers. Hot, needy breaths shared in a space between them that was far too little and far too much at the same time. 

A gasp died on his tongue when she shifted in her seat to press herself even more against him, effectively straddling his lap, impatience dripping down her spine. He went rigid.

“Hold on, don’t—” His fingers dug into her waist to still her, but she had already dragged her hips flush against his, right against that aching stiffness in his trousers. His face blanched, mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

She held her bottom lip between her teeth, processing the feeling of him, a very specific part of him, pressed right to the gusset of her knickers, right under her skirt. It was like someone had stricken a match, lit her nerves on fire.

She shook her head, her cheeks hot. “Don’t apologize,” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, reassuring. “I want you, too. I want this.” She shifted minutely, tentative, right against that throbbing part of him.

His brows knit together, looking almost pained. “Gods, you can’t say things like that.” 

“It’s true,” She whispered, shifting against him again, deliciously slow. The slightest roll of her hips. It was enough to ruin him completely. “Please, Ominis.”

He nodded then, forehead pressed against hers, fists white-knuckled in the starched linen of her shirt. He let his hands fall to his sides, onto the tattered pillows of the loveseat and sighed. 

“Not here.” He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You deserve something nicer.”

//

Ominis’ dorm was certainly nicer.

Clean and tidy to the point of almost being manic, just as she imagined it would be. She glanced over at the surrounding beds and noticed his side strikingly bare in comparison, devoid of the clutter of Quidditch posters, junk and other memorabilia that you would normally expect to find in a teenage boy’s room. 

His sheets were crisp and neatly-pressed, and laid back against his pillows, she could pick up the faint smell of vanilla and bergamot and, most strikingly, him.

He hovered over her there, his hands on either side of her head on the pillowcase, a pink flush dusting his cheekbones, uncertain. She found it awfully endearing. 

“Have you ever…?”

He shook his head, sheepish. “No.” 

She nodded. 

A gnawing feeling clawed itself inside his chest, something marred and ugly and possessive, a jealousy he knew he probably had no right to feel. “Have…you?”

She shook her head. “Never.”

His brows furrowed, confusion and surprise and a faint sense of relief etched into his features. “Really? You and Sebastian never…?”

She sputtered. “Me and Sebastian?”

“Er…yes? I assumed you two had already been—”

“Dear gods, no,” She laughed, as if the mere notion were hysterical. She looked at him bewildered. “Where on earth did you ever get that impression?” 

“I don’t know, you’re both always spending so much time together.” 

“As friends.” She choked. “If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always harbored a bit of a crush on you.” 

It was his turn to sputter. “On me?”

She smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I’m surprised Sebastian’s never told you. He’s tormented me about it since the moment he found out.” 

Ominis winced and let his head fall forward, voice muffled in the collar of her shirt. “Gods, I’ve been such an idiot.” 

“Well, that’s only natural,” She teased, raking her nails softly through the hair on his nape. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.” 

He picked his head up. “So, I…we could’ve been doing this, so much sooner?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Been wanting to get into my pants for very long, have you, Ominis?”

He groaned. “That’s not what I meant,” She watched as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “I’ve liked you for quite a while.”

“Have you?” She grinned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He murmured. “A bit of pining was good for me. Humbling.” 

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not very used to not getting what you want, hm?”

“Mmh,” He hummed, non-committal, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Terribly spoiled, I’m afraid.”

“I won’t hold that against you, either.”

She laced her fingers behind his neck, tugging him forward to bring his lips down to hers again. Ominis could barely contain the euphoric feeling of relief in his chest, of completion, of blissful satisfaction in knowing the witch underneath him was his and only his. 

He let his hands wander, explore, caress, tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and running his hands over the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach. He let his lips roam with just as much fervor, trailing down the length of her neck, scraping biting kisses over her collarbone, over the soft curves of her jaw.

“Take this off me,” She pleaded in between kisses, breathless, and he would be a fool if he didn’t immediately oblige. Slender, deft fingers turned clumsy and unpracticed in the heat of the moment, fumbling over buttons and the zipper of her skirt with a lot more lack of finesse than he was used to doing most things in life. His heart was pounding too loud in his ears for him to care. 

If she was anything she was impatient, and he quickly learned this impatience would be the very bane of his existence, as she proceeded to grind her hips up to meet his every time he tried to pause and regain some level of composure. 

She seemed to take a form of sick gratification in the way he’d curse under his breath at the feeling of the soaked fabric of her knickers, rubbing back and forth against that stiff, aching part of him, nearly bringing him to completion.

He crawled down her body before she could torture him any longer, hooking his fingers into the hem of her knickers and tugging it down to pool at her ankles. He left a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses in his descent, dragging his tongue down the line of her sternum, slow and deliberate. 

She tensed. “You don’t have to—”

“Please,” He nosed at the soft curve of her stomach, his breath warm against her skin, eyes half-lidded behind blonde eyelashes. “I want to. Please let me.”

Her voice was quiet, anticipated. “Okay.”

It was all he needed to kiss her there, lips pressed to her dripping core, sucking just slightly, tentatively, just enough to make her gasp. His tongue was velvety smooth, purposefully slow, as if savoring it, savoring her.

“Tastes good,” He murmured against her cunt in a hum, lips sticky and glistening, voice hoarse and gravely with want. “Tastes s’good. Mmh.”

She couldn’t stifle her moans as he lapped at her firmer then, more focused, dragged the tip of his tongue and swirled it around that sensitive little bundle of nerves he had already deduced made her hips writhe and her hands tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading.

He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but Ominis prided himself on being a very intuitive learner — and there was no better lesson than her nails raking over his scalp and her mewls muffled against the back of her hand every time he evidently did something  right with his tongue. In this more than anything, he was determined to get all O’s. 

“Oh, gods, Ominis,” She breathed out, and that was all it took for him to break, for him to push two fingers inside her cunt, wrap his lips around her clit, and suck. Hard, until her toes curled at either side of his hips on the bedding, and her head was thrown back onto the pillows, and she was repeating please, please, please like a prayer — as if she’d ever have to beg him for anything.

He pulled her over the edge with a groan against her cunt, fingers pressing into that little spot on her walls that made her vision white over with stars, melting her muscles into a puddle of ecstasy. Coaxed her through it, lapping at the wetness until she was reduced to shudders and breathy, shaky pants.

“You’re so beautiful,” He climbed over her, chest heaving, pressing kisses to her cheeks. He rambled praises, utterly sapless, euphoric, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think he was coming down from the high of his own orgasm with how giddy he sounded. “Oh my gods, you’re so unbelievably perfect. Sounded so good — tasted so good, fuck. You’re just—”

She kissed him then, not minding that she could taste herself on his tongue. Slow and sweet, her head dizzy with endorphins. He liked her like this.

Reaching down between them, she ran her hand down the placket of his briefs, palmed the evidence of his arousal, reveled in the way his lips faltered against hers. She dipped her fingers past the elastic of his waistband, and the whimper he let out when she finally wrapped her hand around him was nothing short of depraved.

“Want to be inside of you,” He pleaded, his hips rutting of their own accord against her palm, warm and slick with desire, a sticky bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip. He felt so thick in her hand. “Please, want— want it so bad.”

He couldn’t bear the restriction any longer, tugging his shorts down his thighs, exposing alabaster skin and flushed pink and so much of him she couldn’t pull her eyes away.

He notched himself at her entrance, lips hovering over hers, asking for permission without words, and all she could do was fervently nod to keep herself from begging.

He laced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed in, gasps shared between their lips, foreheads pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, urging him for more.

His voice was wrecked when he spoke. “Is this — am I hurting you? Is this alright?”

She shook her head. “You’re perfect —you feel so perfect.”

He groaned, surging forward to capture her lips in his, pouring every ounce of devotion and adoration into the way his tongue brushed against hers, as he slowly rocked his hips, in and out, cautious, shallow thrusts. 

“Please, more,” She whispered, quiet, needy, and he couldn’t help but oblige. He bottomed out inside of her, his head falling to her shoulder, and eased his hips back to meet hers with a sharp thrust. 

She was overwhelmed by the novel and absolutely foreign feeling of being so full. That dull sting where he was stretching her out around him, that pleasurable ache where he was pressing up into her walls — it was all revoltingly delicious. She never wanted it to stop. 

“Christ, you’re — fuck,”  Her fingers wrapped around his bicep for support, nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his skin. “You’re so deep—oh my gods, please move, please, please move,”

He was half-convinced he’d cut out his own beating heart in that moment and present it to her if she asked. He braced himself with his fingers splayed warm and broad on her hip, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and fucked into her with steady, deep thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Yes, yes, yes,” She gasped, his cock pressing deep into that sensitive spot inside of her. She could feel that winding knot behind her navel being pulled taut,  being stretched tighter and tighter until she felt like she might break. “Like that, just like that — fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” 

Ominis had by no means a dirty mouth, was never, ever crass by an definition of the word, but hearing her pleading in his ear, feeling her squeeze so tightly around him, slick and warm and utterly divine — he couldn’t stop the endless litany spilling from his mouth, delirious from how good she felt as he thrust into her thoroughly, his self-restraint slipping out of him like grains of sand through open fingers.

“You’re so perfect. My angel, oh my gods, all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you’re so tight, so tight around me. Fuck, I can’t stop, I can’t — I need —I need you, I love this, I love this so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love—”

His words died on a strangled moan as he finished inside of her, pumping into her until he pulled her over the edge along with him, electrifying her nerve-endings into bliss. He pressed his lips to hers like he needed her to breathe, like the only oxygen he desired was the ones she would give him from her very own lungs.

She spoke first, dazed. “That was—”

He let out a laugh, soft and pleasure-rough, the slightest bit drowsy. “Amazing. Brilliant. You’re absolutely brilliant.” 

She returned his gleaming smile with her own, teasing.

“You’ve only just noticed?”

//

It took one look. The raucous bustle of other students still disembarking around him, yet his attention was trained on his two friends smiling and waiting up for him. 

His eyes darted between the two, briefly combing over the faint bites of purple on her neck that was peeking out just slightly from beneath the green and silver of her scarf, then finally dipped to where their hands were surreptitiously clasped behind layers of cloaks, and he immediately knew.

Sebastian dropped his suitcase on the weathered boards of the dock with a thunk and ran up to clap his hands on his friends’ shoulders with a sly smile and a satisfied glint in his eyes.

“Fucking took you two long enough.”

[astralnymphh]

super high Ellie getting off with a toy to the thought of you while you’re gone 🤭 I just know she’d squirt everyone tbh and her words would be so slurred together she wouldn’t even be making any sense

omgg.. yes yes yes!! just woke up but I'm using asks as my morning writing prompts to get my brain cogs grinding 🙃 MDNI!! return of the mama petname ☠︎︎

super high!ellie who couldn't even shuffle her sweats down all the way to play with her dumb achy pussy. like, the fabrics all bunched at her mid–thigh. the hem of her shirt would probably be pushed up to expose her perky tits, just so she could elevate the vibrator every now and then from her clit to encircle her nipple in the buzzing rod– cause again, sensitive nipple ellie. her nipples are most definitely hyper tender on weed. they poke through the fabric of her thin fabric tees and get soo irritated chafing against the cotton lining.. and her nipples get so sore and throb when toyed with. ౨ৎ but alas, the vibrator sails its merry way back to her smeary pussy that's been choking the emptiness of her hole ever since she brought the toy away. so, now that she's back, she draws the whirring bulbous tip through her sex sleek folds and begins to trace circles once more, creasing up her labia and dragging the delicate puff around with the vibrator stamped to her clit, eyes rolled back she's been fuckin possessed. opaque white of her eyes on view. but gods and goddesses above how her abs and glutes would clench and flex while her pelvis squirms of pleasure torture, the flowering knot tauting inside her core driving her mad. slurs the utmost of the most, playing pretend as if you are a voyeur to her theatrical pussy play, dramatic, "yesh yess– babyyy, unghhhhh fuck m' pushy like tha– jus' li' that jush' likee.. mhh–! m' cum all over yoursh.. squirt on tha pretty puss.. fuck!" her lips shaping the words at a barren inch, flubbing rather, a quiet shrill across her teeth as her gob deficiently governs all the sexy things she would usually whisper upon your own hazy ears. the scent of her own pussy would also have her fucked up north to south– brain egged to hasten her motions while her pussy just secretes more of that glistening slick that fogs her brain up with such a lovely scent, oh if only it were yours. at the heightening portion of her unstable climax– due to accidently sliding the vibing tip off her clit and giving her left asscheek some whirring attention for a full minute before realization settles on her slushy brain– she would legit push the most stifled grunts ever, constructing her pelvis and bulging her cunt out cause she was trying to squirt a lil' too early, gets frustrated and slaps the rubber head of it, only resulting in a jittering mess of her hips that her flimsy wrist could not follow, so she digs the tip into her clit and, splash. her legs snap open in a spread– kicking off those restrictive sweats, feet a fingerbreadth off the mattress, and squirts everywhere. spurts of it like a water jet, soaring over the dim radiance of an amber lamp in the distant corner of your shared room. it probably starts at a low, weak pressure– squirt drizzling between her ass, then boosts into a geyser viable of changing the weather predictions. her lashes crumple in the tight screwing of her lids, nostrils furrow back and get super orangey–vermillion from all the muck sweat brought upon by her pooling pores, those pretty cupid lips press together and stretch as her cheeks tug and infllate– her face of climax. bro is the type to buck her hips into the air while cumming too, protrudes out that charming auburn bush soiled in lubricous finish, clenching up her bootycheeks like she got tazed. would say such dirty shit, slurred, "ohhh fuck, mhh– squrr' all over that pretty– scchlp–" licking up slobber, "pretty facshe, fuuhhh' makin mama' all dirty– wih my cum, uhuh.." all in a grizzly tone.

death. is what that just felt like. a likeness of pussy death incarnate. bro would lay there, like a puddle of mush all limp, knees straightened and plane to the bed, mouth stranded agape and eyes striving to stay open. no agglomeration of thoughts is processing correctly behind those eyes of death. for minutes, she just lies in her own slicken squirtshed. thennn her brain wakes up a bit and persuades some twitch of life to jerk. her legs curl up, torso cranes upright and confronts the blasphemous gully of cum damp under her butt. her pussy is absolutely bloated, reddened and sappy still. gives two dumbstruck eyes towards it, like blankly gawking and then manages to gain some sort of sense and druggily shifts out of bed, mumbling, "mm' nee' t'clean up, she can't see this.." but little does she know you'd probably walk in on her, steeped in a sloppily prepared bath– fingering herself after such a crime was committed to her tired pussy lips, only to reanimate and beg for more. gives you the most guilt–ridden expressions while you examine the curl of her knuckles riding her slender fingers inside, gently moving against her walls, thankfully visible in the pure clear water. whines, "m'sorry, couldn' wait." and then flows into a grumble, "kept fuckin' throbbing, when I thought 'bout you." visage developing into one of 'yeah, I did that' while she throws her calves over the bathtubs' rims, inviting you with open legs– "wanna' teach my pussy a lesson, hmm?"

idk how off the rails i went but im a slut for ellie pleasuring herself all dumb.

COMPLIMENTARY JIZZSHOTS

[pixiesfz]

I know it’s not the normal thing you write so if you don’t want to then that’s fine! But I’d love a platonic lionesses fic (or just Lucy if you’d prefer) when r is the youngest player on the team and they’re all a bit overprotective of her

love this idea of a young teen lioness!!

plot: y/n's partner breaks up with y/n right before camp

warning: them pronouns are used for partner, and crying, I'm not sure what you should call a warning (also if anyone thinks they wouldn't cry like a bitch when they get broken up with is like wrong)

You stared at your phone as your tears dropped down on the text message that now clouded your brain.

You were sixteen you shouldn't expect your first relationship to be your one and only.

But you loved them.

You read the message again.

'It's really not working y/n'

'I think it's best if we break up'

'I can't deal with this anymore'

You wiped away the tears on your face. Long distance was hard and you were leaving every now and then for your soccer career, you thought they would supported you and they did at first.

Then you stopped ringing each other every night, you were sometimes late to their messages because of training and you even saw on your other friends stories of them at parties talking to other girls.

You tried to convince yourself it wasn't going to happen.

But now it has.

The doorbell went off causing you to jump and drop your phone on the floor "fuck, shit fuck" you grunted out as it hit your foot.

You remembered that Ella and Alessia had decided to pick you up to drive you to camp that day.

You quickly wiped the tears off your face and took a deep breath as the doorbell rang again and Ella's voice could be heard.

"Y/N! for god sakes are you deaf!"

It almost brought a smile to your face before you grabbed your suitcase and walked out of your room and to the front door and opened it.

Alessia was about to ring the doorbell again until you opened the door. "Finally" Ella yelled as you looked down and played with your air pod case.

"I uhm- yeah sorry I was on a call with mum" you said with a soft voice as you were already walking towards the car trying not to make eye contact with any of the girls who thankfully didn't think anything of it.

You were quiet the whole ride which weirded the two girls out usually, you would be talking their ears off and you would all sing along to some Disney song.

Even when you had arrived you quickly hurried off with a quick 'thanks' and went to get changed.

"Somethings off" Alessia said once you were out of earshot "no shit sherlock" Ella replied before they ushered over to Lucy and Keira who had also just arrived.

"Why's the little one running?" Lucy asked as she watched you with furrowed brows "somethings up she didn't talk the entire ride" Alessia explained and Keira's mouth dropped "your kidding" she said and then looked at the doors you had just walked through with worry.

You were in the rooms tying up your shoes when Leah and Beth walked in "hey chicken" Beth smiled and you nodded "Hey Beth" you relied softly, still with your head between your legs.

Leah looked at you weirdly before they walked through the rooms again and collected everyone to start training.

You weren't doing well, even when you first walked onto the pitch you looked into the empty stands where you once ran up to see your ex and hug them after a game-winning goal.

You opted to tell someone but you shook it off, you were just sixteen relationships aren't important and they definitely wouldn't care about it much.

But the more you battled your brain about it the more you kept on stuffing up weather it was a dribble, a tackle or a shot at goal.

It was Mary who noticed first "y/n you good?" she asked as you missed another shot "yeah" you replied as you fought away the tears that tried to slip out just by the goalkeeper asking about your feelings.

She nodded before looking at Leah who shot her brows at her.

You kept on trying to kick some goals and missing or taking easy shots and Mary caught them with ease. You knew what was wrong but you didn't think it would impact your playing skills.

It frustrated you and all the girls were sharing looks about your 'skills'.

When training finished you stayed on the pitch and watched as they all went in, leaving you alone.

You grabbed a ball harshly from the sideline and took it to the penalty line and kicked it.

miss.

kicked it again,

miss.

then again,

post.

You were growing so frustrated as tears now ran down your cheeks and you swore loudly at yourself. You walked up to the ball one more time to grab it but your hand stopped once you reached it as you thought about the texts once more this morning and you let out a choked sob.

You hadn't given yourself time to really cry yet and now it finally caught up to you.

You didn't know that some of the team hadn't left yet as they were worried about you but watched from the top.

"She was funny before training" Alessia explained to Leah who had her hands crossed whilst she watched you try and kick penalties "She didn't look at me at all when I said hi" Beth piped up and Leah tilted her head "She never misses" she muttered.

Lucy noticed the frustration growing on your face "Do you think something happened at home?" she wondered quietly before the girls looked back at her and took it in.

You weren't aware of their eyes on you as you dropped to the floor with the ball and kicked it as hard as you could near the goals which hit the net.

"fuck off" you cried out with your annoyance at the accidental goal and you rolled up your long sleeve to your palms and put them to your face which you cried into.

It wasn't anyone's fault it didn't work out, you tried to tell yourself but you didn't believe it.

You left to pursue soccer, you left them behind.

They were your first love and you're the reason they left.

You were too focused on your own thoughts to hear Lucy running over to you and you were too tired to pry away her arms which were picking you up.

"y/n/n" she said as she turned you around but you found yourself hugging the older girl in comfort. Keira came in next her heart dropping at the sight of you hugging Lucy in tears.

"Y/n what's wrong?" Lucy asked softly as she looked down at you, you sniffed and looked up "they broke up with me this morning" you said and watched Lucy's reaction.

She breathed in before hugging you tighter "it's going to be fine y/n, you'll get through this" she said before Keira beckoned the other girls to come over "we will help you get through this" she said before nodding her head at the girls which were now on the pitch walking towards you.

You let go of Lucy to look at the Lionesses who where worried about you.

"I'm sorry I was shit today at training" you apologized to Leah who scoffed "Oh shut up we only care about if you're okay" she told you and hugged you as well.

"I do have one question though" Lucy said from behind you "what?" you asked

"Can I find them and beat them up?"

"Lucy!" Keira said and smacked her arm which you laughed at.

"Thanks, guys," you said with a smile that wasn't fake, you couldn't believe you lucked out with a team like this.

[gisellaswrld]

i’m at a loss of words even looking at you; no pain could ever reach how it felt when you twisted the knife.

jh86 | traveling to michigan due to the loss of your father sucked. especially when a familiar face longed to speak to you.

The passing of your father was sudden, unexpected really. The last time you seen him-- a few months ago-- he was perfectly fine. A week ago, your mom called you stating he had fallen really ill. A few days after, she announced his passing to the family.

You made the unfortunate flight to Michigan, having to take your second semester finals earlier to be able to make it to Michigan. Luckily, all your professors were willing to allow you to take them early.

Being in Michigan brought a dark gloom over your head. Of course, it was mostly due to your father's passing, but the last time you were in Michigan, it didn't end well.

Last summer, you were in an on-and-off situationship with your long-term best friend Jack Hughes. At first, it was great. You had the ability to brag that you were the one Jack was fucking at night, you were the girl that Jack had his arm around at the party of the night.

Until you fell for him, something that was easy to do. Jack had charm, his game with women was off the charts. You knew he had a way with getting women to fall easily for him. Before you agreed to the friends with benefits deal, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t fall in love — but you did.

Instead of effectively communicating your feelings to Jack and dealing with the rejection, you ghosted him when you went back to school. You expected him to reach out to you, but instead you got nothing from him. In the end, you thought that hurt worse than rejection ever could.

You stood in front of the mirror that hung on the door to your childhood bedroom. Smoothing out the black dress, you sucked in a deep breath. You were sure Ellen and Jim would be at the visitation. You just were unsure if they forced their three sons to join along.

A soft knock pulled you from your thoughts. You opened the door to see your mother, her eyes clearly swollen from her late night sobbing.

“Are you ready, honey?” Her hoarse voice spoke. You gave her a sincere smile. You knew your mother was in a lot of pain. After all, she lost her husband — the love of her life. You were upset about your father’s passing, but your mother was just completely empty of any emotion besides grief.

“Yeah, I just need to grab my purse. I’ll be right down.” You replied, voice quiet. Your mother nodded, shutting the door to your room. Seeing your mother in this deep of pain hurt you beyond words could explain.

You reached for your purse that was slung on the desk chair, accidentally knocking a few things over. “Shit-“ You grumbled, trying to gather them. You noticed a small note that was hidden behind the old clutter on your desk.

Good Luck in Maine, Stevie. I’ll miss you while you’re gone! - Jack

The familiar — yet unfamiliar — nickname made your stomach turn. It came from your undying love for Stevie Nicks in middle school. When you and Jack would walk home after school, the sound of Fleetwood Mac was always playing from your speaker. Jack turned that into a nickname for you.

You had been wondering why listening to Fleetwood Mac had been making you upset recently, the note just clicked a few buttons in your brain to remind you.

You crumbled the post-it note into your hand, tossing it somewhere in your room. With a huff, you grabbed your purse and left the room. Your family had been waiting downstairs. Evelyn, your younger sister, had a blank expression on her face due to the grief. Your older brother looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well.

You were the epitome of a mourning family.

Your mom drove everyone to the funeral home, it was an hour before the visitation started. Your mother wanted to ensure the visitation room was prepped like how she wanted it.

The visitation room made your heart twist and ache. There were photos of your dad scattered everywhere. Family photos, old prom pictures, even pictures of him attached to a telephone pole from his first job were posted.

“Wow,” Your brother commented, his eyes turning glassy quickly. “This is… this is heavy.” He continued, swallowing harshly.

Your eyes quickly connected to a photo. It was of your father and Jim Hughes. They were the best of friends in high school. The photo was of them holding you and Jack when you were babies. You shook your head, rolling the tears out of your eyes.

Soon enough, the visitors started to roll in. They ranged from family to friends and even some of your own peers showed up. You and your brother stayed off to the side, watching as family consoled your mother.

“Surprised Aunt Nancy even showed her face. Last time I check, she was strung out on meth in Illinois.” Your brother scoffed, staring directly at your father’s sister.

“Dad wouldn’t have wanted her here.” You replied, agreeing with him.

Your attention was turned to the family walking in, the Hughes family. All five of them were present, even Jack. Your stomach turned, feeling queasy at the thought of being in his presence.

Jim spotted you and your brother, considering you were off to the side of the crowd. He led his family over.

“I see your mom is caught up with your father’s family?” Jim commented, a sad expression on his face. He lost his high school best friend, the guy he partied with through college, and the guy he purposefully lived next to in Michigan — just so they wouldn’t be apart.

“Nancy is here,” Your brother answered, watching as Jim rolled his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sure this is hard,” Ellen frowned pulling you into a hug. You haven’t cried yet today, but this interaction was pushing you close to your limits.

“It is, but what can you do,” You answered, a small frown forming on your face. Your eyes trailed over to Jack, who was piercingly staring at you. You pulled out of Ellen’s grasp, watching as her and Jim got swept away by your mother.

Quinn was the first to speak up. “So, what happened? Jimmy said it was unexpected.”

You looked over at your brother, knowing you’d be the one to explain the story. “He got admitted to the hospital after he went for a high fever. Turns out he had many malignant tumors in his lungs and bronchus. He passed not too long after.” You sadly answered, your voice nothing short of monotonous.

“Fuck — that’s awful.” Luke sighed, scratching at his head. You and your brother shrugged simultaneously. “It happens.” Your brother responded.

Jack stood quietly behind Quinn, his attention fully devoted to you. Your stomach churned, causing you to become light headed. “I’ll be back,” You whispered to your brother, quickly walking out of the visitation room.

You found the women’s bathroom, quickly slamming open the door. You didn’t have time to lock the door behind you. Your body hunched over the toilet, the contents of your stomach spilling out of your mouth. Your body was shaking due to the exertion. You had a few tears spilling from your eyes, ones that you quickly wiped away.

You flushed the toilet, falling against the bathroom wall. “Of course—“ You commented, your voice quiet.

Slowly, your stood to your feet, standing in front of the mirror that was above the sink. You let out a shuddered breath. You ran the water, gargling some water in your mouth. You spit it out into the sink, feeling some relief.

While leaving the bathroom, you had your head in your purse searching for gum. You felt your body come to a halt as someone grabbed your arm. You found the gum, sliding a piece into your mouth, then looked up to see Jack.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, his hand gripping onto your arm. You looked down, pulling your arm from his grasp. “I’m good.” You confirmed, nodding at him.

“Why didn’t you ever reach out?” He asked, his eyes forming into a glare. You raised your eyebrows, scoffing. “Are you really asking me why I didn’t reach out at my dad’s visitation?” You quickly fired back, watching as his expression changed.

“I just wanted to know, Stevie. That’s all.”

“Don’t call me that.” You stated, turning on your heels to walk away from him. You sucked in a deep breath once back into the visitation room, joining your brother once more.

This is going to be a long week.

You peered out at the sinking sun, watching as night fell onto the town in Michigan. The colder atmosphere chilled the air, unfortunately you didn’t bring a jacket.

The large pier was empty this time of year. There were no tourists to occupy the town, just those who lived here year round. The sound of the water moving and occasional car driving past kept your mind at peace.

This is where you decided you hated Michigan.

A car door could’ve been heard if you weren’t trapped in your mind. The car door could’ve signaled to you that someone would be joining you within moments. It could’ve been a serial killer, or some elderly woman who wants to knit.

Instead, it was Jack.

He sat down next to you on the bench, quietly turning his head to you. “Your brother told me you were here,” Jack spoke, his eyes fixated on you. “I didn’t ask,” You simply replied, voice quiet.

“Do you hate me, or something? I’m lost at how suddenly you just disappeared, and why you did.” Jack blurted, turning his body slightly towards. you.

You shrugged, a small frown forming on your lips.

“Do you regret it? Or did we do something that we shouldn’t have?”

You shook your head, then shrugged once more. You didn’t want to speak to him, let alone be near him.

“Stevie, we were best friends before whatever happened this summer. Your dad just died, and you are like a closed off shell of what you used to be. Why won’t you just talk to me?” Jack pleaded, his eyes starting to water.

As badly as you wanted to explain your feelings, explain how you didn’t want to be one of those girls that he picks up whenever he wants just to throw them away, explain how you didn’t feel like you even compared to his previous girlfriends, or even explain how you fell in love with him, you chose not to.

Simply out of the fact you didn’t want to be one of those girls crying over the fact that Jack Hughes never loved them.

“I don’t want to talk Jack, at all. I just simply want to be alone,” You abruptly stood from the bench, pulling your sleeves over your hands. “Stop trying to get me to talk to you,”

You quickly walked back to your car, then slowed down once you realized he wasn’t following behind you. Once in the safety of your car, you broke down. Sobs racking your body during the whole drive back to your childhood home.

The bar was practically empty at this point of the night. It was two in the morning and you were five drinks deep. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but due to your small tolerance of alcohol, it felt like a lot.

Your mind was running, thoughts swirling quickly through your brain. Frankly, you didn’t know why you haven’t just laid your feelings out on a silver platter to Jack.

You thought back to what he told you on the pier, and he was right. Your friendship had been deeply rooted into your life. It was wrong for you to shut him out like you’ve been. It was out of your own stubbornness, and now you were cursing yourself for it.

You sighed, fishing your phone out of your purse. You signaled for the bartender, asking for her to close you out.

“Hello?” Your brother’s tired voice grumbled through the phone. “Hey, I’m at Joe’s, can you come get me?” You slurred, your head resting against your hand.

“It’s literally two AM, are you serious?” Your brother continued to grumble, his voice becoming more annoyed. “Please?” You pleaded.

After a few moments, hearing him tap at his phone and the ruffling of his sheets. “Jack’s gonna be there in ten to come get you.” Your brother informed. “Stop being rude to him, by the way. He just wants to help.”

You heard the chime of the hang up sound, groaning to yourself. The bartender handed you the debit card that belonged to you, giving you a sincere smile.

After a little while, the door bell chimed, signaling that someone had entered.

“Stevie come on,” Jack muttered, standing behind you. You felt the tension, causing your less than sober state to fill with nerves. You slid off the bar stool, sulking as Jack led you to his car.

Once safety inside, Jack started the drive back.

“Why?” Jack asked, his focus on the road. “Why are you doing this to yourself again?”

“I don’t know, Jack,” You shrugged. Tears started to run down your face, regret filling your body due to your actions.

“You’ve shut me out once before, and you know how that makes me feel. I don’t know why you are doing it again.” Jack continued, his hands gripping onto the wheel tightly.

“I’m sorry, Jack” Your voice shuddered as you spoke, your eyes staring down at your hands.

“And I don’t know if you’ve just been acting like this because you are going through a lot right now, but I just wish you’d talk to me. And drinking — really Stevie — drinking? This is how you are going to work through your pain?”

“I-“ You stuttered, shrugging as you tried to finds words to speak.

“You don’t have to answer now, you’ve been drinking.” Jack stated, pulling into your driveway. You sat in the car, not sure of what to do or say.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” You asked, finally glancing over at him. Jack briefly glanced at you, letting out a sigh. “Yeah, just text me.” Jack replied, nodding. “Bye,” You quietly excused yourself, getting out of his car.

The rest of the night, you laid in bed, thinking of things to tell Jack tomorrow.

Jack sat across from you, nursing a hot black coffee. Your head ached with a never ending headache due to your hangover. You sipped on a iced chai latte, silent.

"Tell me what's going on," Jack requested, breaking the heavy silence with a sentence that made your body flood with anxiety. You wished you never asked him to talk - but you decided that your since your trip was coming to an end soon - it was now or never. Never meaning you would lose your best friend for good.

You attempted to gather words in your brain, opening your mouth to speak but nothing would flow into coherent sentences.

"I really - do you regret this summer? Do you thing it changed anything?" You asked, your mouth running dry with your words.

Jack knit his brows together in confusion, quickly shaking his head. “No, I don’t regret it. Do you?” Jack leaned forward slightly, his voice quiet. “I don’t regret it, but something changed.” You spoke, eyes tearing away from his.

“What changed, Y/N?” Jack’s face flooded with worry. “Because if it’s something I can fix, I want to. I just want my best friend back, I just want you back in my life.”

“That’s the thing, Jack.”

“What? What’s the thing?” Jack’s voice was rushed, his eyes searching your face for any answers. He used to be able to read your expressions like an open book, but now it was like trying to read a locked diary.

“I can’t be your best friend anymore-“ You were quickly cut off.

“What the fuck? Why? Why can’t you be my friend anymore? Because we fucked? I mean, I can see how it would change things but I feel like it-“ You quickly cut him off in return.

“No, Jack. It’s because I fell in love with you.” You harshly stated, eyes quickly locking onto him. You could visibly see a wave of emotion rush over him.

Jack sat in silence, his brain swirling with many thoughts and questions. He was unsure of which one to ask first, to learn about. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You scrunched your face, clasping your hands in your lap. “I’ve known you for how long, Jack? You’ve told me about every girl you’ve brought home, immediately knowing whether or not they’d be a quick hook-up or if it would be more. You’ve told me how many times you’ve ghosted girls over something small they did that threw you off.” You paused, sucking in a deep breath. “I didn’t want to be one of those girls.”

“You never were, Y/N. We have too much past to even make you remotely close to one of those girls.” Jack shook his head, disbelief flooding his brain. Did you really think that he would just drop you?

“Jack, be serious. If we didn’t have the past, if our families weren’t close friends, would I be one of those girls?” You asked, a stoic expression on your face.

Jack shook his head again. “Absolutely not. If you were one of those girls, Y/N, if I even remotely felt like treating you like those girls, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I wouldn’t have kept being around you all summer if you were one of those girls. You just — it was natural — it felt easy to be around you like that,” Jack explained, confessing thoughts in his head he never thought he’d say out loud.

“Why?”

“You are different. Your achievements are far different from how many Instagram followers you have, you have actual goals in life. You never thought of me as some fucking — as #1 draft pick with a 8.8 Million dollar contract — I’ve always just been Jack to you. I’ve always been the kid your parents forced you to hang out with. I’ve never been some celebrity in your brain. You make me feel different.” Jack let out a deep breath after his small speech, his eyes focused on you.

“Jack, I-“

“I’m not finished. You are in school, pursuing fucking politics, Y/N. You spend your nights studying instead of throwing back as much Pink Whitney as you can. Instead of posting sponsorships on social media, you post about your friends, family, achievements. I have always thought you were the smartest girl I’ve known. I always surrounded myself with girls different from you to try to convince myself that it wasn’t right to have feelings for you. Because you don’t deserve to be with a guy who won’t have a career in thirty years, who doesn’t even know what he’s going to do with his life in thirty years.” Jack ran a hand through his tousled hair, moving to anxiously fiddle with the strings to his hoodie.

“I think your monologue was longer than my final paper this semester, no offense.” You spoke, trying to ease the heavy mood. “I — uh — wow. That is a lot to process? Give me a second to think.” You spoke, thinking maybe Jack would actually let you think for a moment.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you since sophomore year of high school. That’s the whole point of that speech or whatever.” Jack stated quickly, clarifying his words.

“So, now what?” You asked, shrugging. “You go back to New Jersey, I go back to Maine, now what?”

“We figure it out. Because, Y/N, seriously. I’ve gone the past five months not speaking to you, and I really can’t go any longer.” Jack frowned, scratching at the small patches of stubble that had been growing.

“We figure it out?” You questioned, waiting for him to confirm his words.

“Yeah, I mean, we’ve figured out ways for you to come to New Jersey for like the past three years. I’m sure it won’t be any less harder, now. You have one semester left at college, then it’s up in the air, yeah? I think we’d be able to figure it out.” Jack nodded, feeling less suffocated that he had previously felt. “Only if you want to though.”

You, on the other hand, were still battling with your internal insecurities. Your lip was tucked between your teeth, biting at the dead skin. “I need to get some air, for a second.” You stood from the chair, heading outside the small coffee shop to think in peace for a moment.

You knew it wouldn’t be hard to figure out. And, you knew Jack would treat you right. He already did so much for you, as a friend. Sending you sweet messages when you were upset, ordering you uber eats when you were up all night studying, the signs were all green.

Yet, the lingering thought of if you were good enough still pounded into your brain like a headache.

You heard the door chime, not realizing they maybe you have been sitting outside for far too long. Jack stood on the side walk, a sad expression plastered on his face.

“Just let me know-“

You stood to your feet, rushing over to him. You placed you hands on his cheeks, planting your lips onto his. Jack hesitated, but soon his hands found your hips, squeezing.

“We’ll figure it out.” You mumbled, watching as his eyes flickered brightly.

“We will figure it out,” Jack nodded, pulling your body against his chest.

You were sure that Jack would do his best to navigate through his life, especially if you were by his side. You knew that Jack would treat you as best as he could, always ensuring you were happy with how the relationship was going. You knew Jack just as well as you knew yourself.

Maybe being back in Michigan wasn’t as bad as you thought it was.

[erwinsvow]

wait I still absolutely love love love kook trio reader with Rafe and because I think Rafe trying to control himself because he’s her ‘friend’ is so funny to me because hello I love him but I can totally get around to her and JJ 🤭

rafe thought he was really good at it—keeping himself under control. he thought no one else could see through the hard exterior, that he was keeping the possessiveness he felt over you well concealed.

he wasn't.

if the obvious staring at all the times of the day weren't enough, he was touchy with you, touchier than what was considered normal for your little friend group. you were the touchy one, always leaning against kelce's shoulder in the backseat when you were sleepy or keeping your feet splayed across top's lap during evenings spent out on the boat.

and though at first you had been the touchiest of all with rafe, he was starting to overtake you. a hand on your waist on the course, only pulling away when it was his turn to swing. sitting in the chair closest to you during lunch at the club, keeping his hand on the back of your seat, pulled closer to his than normal.

even during parties when he'd normally stalk off to sell and flirt with random girls—something that you used to be okay with but now made you feel a little unsettled, a little queasy—he was glued to your side, making sure the drink in your hand was from him, making sure your head only rested against his shoulder, your legs on his lap.

and normally, you ignored it. a little part of you was pleased, you'd always liked rafe the best, maybe because he had been the hardest to win over. when you first started hanging out with the boys, he'd put up the biggest fight, if topper and kelce were to be believed. rafe was the one who had been opposed, the one who thought a girl would ruin the vibes.

so it was nice, almost strangely satisfying, that he was so attached to you now. trying to be a good friend, like he always put it, like today.

rafe had given you a can of mango seltzer poured into a solo cup. what he didn't know was that topper had poured about two shots of vodka into the cup when rafe walked away to make a quick sell. and then kelce had topped you off again when rafe went to go make his own drink, so as a result, you were deliciously drunk, leaning back on the couch, pushing the soles of your feet against rafe's thighs while he kept a firm hand on your knee so you didn't tip over and fall off.

you giggle at his touch, everything feeling hot and tingly.

"really? that fizzy shit does this to you?" he asks, low and quiet. at first you're a little quiet, and he's a little worried—you're never quiet. but you laugh, thudding your head gently back on the arm of the sofa.

"rafe, when has one can ever done this to me? you're funny." you say, pushing yourself up and balancing on your elbows to look at him. you look pretty, enticingly so, almost enough to distract him from your words. the short denim skirt and white shirt is among his favorites, and he stares a little longer than he normally would.

you don't notice—he's always staring at you.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"how do you think that bottle of vodka got empty so quickly?"

"they gave you more?" rafe questions, his hand coming to your ankles to hoist them to the side so he can stand up. he searches for topper and kelce, spotting them with two girls by the pool table, and just as he starts to take the first step, you sit up, grabbing his wrist and holding him back.

"hey! what the hell's that about?" rafe turns to look back you, staring up at him with your pretty eyes and confused expression. "i always drink with you guys. why would i stop now?"

"because i had said-"

"yes, i know you said not to." he sits back down, body facing yours, too close not to arouse suspicions from other people watching. you don't mind though, you're used to it. "i know you're being a good friend rafe, but i can't stop having fun because you're worried about me."

the alcohol has made you surprisingly honest—normally he thinks you whack the side of his head and call him an idiot.

"right.." rafe says slowly, processing the words. "a good friend. right. i am."

"i know you are." you lie back down, swinging your feet across his lap again, resuming position.

he strokes the skin of your legs, all the way from your thigh to your ankle. a boy walking by stares at your short skirt, but darts away when he sees how rafe's looking at him.

"you're all good friends," you ramble. "so nice to me, especially you. i thought you hated me at first. sometimes i worry you still do."

"could never hate you, kid."

you giggle again, taking another sip of your drink.

"stop being an idiot then, and have fun. i'll go get you another scotch if that's what it takes."

the night goes like that until kelce and top rejoin, and even then, you somehow end up like always—asleep next to rafe at tannyhill. you wake up to the blare of your alarm, while rafe covers his ears with the pillow.

"turn that shit off," he mumbles. "where the hell are you goin' so early?" you yawn, stretching next to him. he looks up, eyes opening by themselves, yearning to catch a glimpse of exposed skin.

"i have to go back home. will you bring me? pleeease?" you elongate the word, singing it sweetly so he'll comply.

"right now? why?"

"i'm going on a lunch date. i wanna get ready, y'know, look nice," you say, turning off your alarm and fiddling with something on your phone, replying to a text he thinks.

rafe sits up immediately.

"a date? with who?"

"um, this guy my friend buys weed from sometimes. he's nice, though, not weird at all. well, not weird like that, like not creepy, but he's funny-"

"shut up. you're not going." you turn from your position to look at him.

"rafe, you're so weird. friends are supposed to be excited for each other."

"right. excited."

"c'mon let's go, i don't wanna be late." you gather your discarded clothes on the floor, but keep his shirt on, wearing it home like you always do.

"friends," he mumbles to himself. friends. that's when he decided he was gonna have to do something about you.

[moonstruckme]

hiii! so i’ve just recently started reading ur work and i love it sm ur amazing! so i just wanted to request smth and it’s a little random but i was wondering if you could do something with remus/james where reader gets uncomfortable around drunk ppl bc that’s how i am because of some things in the past so maybe she gets uncomfortable and he gets kinda protective? sorry that was a lot but if u don’t write this rhats perfectly fine i just wanted to say i love your work!🩷

Thanks lovely <33

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 825 words

Really, you ought to know better than to walk around this part of town on a weekend night. You’d just wanted a pint of ice cream so badly, and this is the nearest store with the kind you like. You hadn’t thought it through, how these would be the peak hours for the bars that line the majority of the street, how the sidewalks would fill with too-loud patrons laughing and stumbling about. 

It’s not that you really even feel unsafe. The area is too crowded for most of the men to try anything, and James is with you to deter anything like that anyway. It’s just…a lot. The slurred shouts, and the unpredictable movements, and the stink of vomit. 

James drifts closer to you, taking your hand to help guide you through the crowd. He knows how you feel about drunk people. Even him and his friends, who you love and know would never intentionally make you uncomfortable, feel odd to be around after they’ve been drinking. 

James glances over at you. “You good?” 

“Yeah.” You do your best to appear less tense, smiling at him. “Thanks.” 

He gives your hand a light squeeze, moving the both of you this way and that to avoid groups that have stagnated or slowed on the sidewalk. You can’t help but stare as a girl a few paces ahead of you falls onto her bum on the curb, laughing deliriously as her friends try to help her back up. There’s a group of boys in front of you with their arms linked over each other’s shoulders, open drink containers in several of their hands as they mosey down the sidewalk, singing out of tune and at seemingly different parts of the same song. If you were one of them, it would probably all seem funny and lighthearted to you, too. There’s nothing nefarious about this; they’re just people enjoying a Friday night. And still, you can’t help but feel awkward and on edge around them. 

You feel the shock of cold before you know what’s happened, freezing liquid streaming down your shirt. You gasp and flinch into James on instinct, and the drunken man follows you inadvertently, his now empty beer bottle tipped over your shoulder and his weight pressing into you as he tries to hold himself up on nonfunctioning legs. 

James’ hand skims over your upper back as he moves around to your other side, taking the guy by the shoulders and lifting him off of you. The man starts to babble angrily, but James only gives him one of his easy smiles. You’d have to really know him to be able to tell he doesn’t mean it. 

“Easy, mate,” he says, delivering the man back to his group of friends behind you. His tone changes slightly when he addresses them, still friendly but with a slightly harder edge. “Keep track of your friend, yeah?”

The group of boys says various things in the affirmative, but James has already turned away. He shepherds you over to the wall of the closest building, out of the flow of foot traffic, and puts himself between you and the people passing by. 

“Shit, sweetheart,” he says, taking off the flannel he’s wearing over his t-shirt. “He really spilled all over you. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you say, though you really are very cold now. You take James’ flannel without complaint, shrugging it on. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”  

“So fucking irresponsible,” he huffs, shaking his head as he adjusts the thick fabric to cover the wet streak down the side of your shirt. “I mean, who lets their mate get that sloppy and then walk around by themselves? I could never do that.” 

You smile at him. “I know you couldn’t, Jamie. You’re a good friend.” 

He grins back at you, taking you under his arm as you begin walking towards the store again. It looks casual, a boyfriend with his arm slung loosely over his girl’s shoulders, but you can feel the tension in his bicep as he keeps you close, maneuvering you carefully through the crowd. 

“I think those guys were just too drunk to keep track of him,” you go on. “Not everyone can have as good a friend as you.” 

James scoffs, but you don’t let him dodge the compliment. 

“I’m serious.” You bump his hip lightly. “I bet none of those guys would have given me their jacket when it was this chilly out. You’re one in a million.” 

“Great,” James says. “So now my accolades are that I don’t let my friends fall all over people when they’re drunk and I give pretty girls my jacket when they’re soaking wet in the cold.” You’re looking ahead of you, but you can hear the eye roll in his voice even as he presses a quick kiss to the side of your head. “Your bar’s frighteningly low, angel. We’re gonna have to work on that.”

[22back]

Adam was the last person you expected to see in your hotel room right before your wedding, you guessed your future wife had let him since she never refused anything he demanded of her, he had made himself comfortable in the room, with a drink in his hand and a smirk when you walked in.

“Ugh hey Adam, this room isn’t for guests the ceremony is at th-“

He cut you off before you could finish “obviously I know this room isn’t for guests since I’m the only one here, I thought I’d do you a favor and have this conversation with you alone, since this might be your wedding day and all that”

Your mind starts to race, you’ve been avoiding being alone with Adam since you’ve known about him, afraid what he might say to you, embarrassed both of you knew he was fucking your fiancé before you met her and still is.

“Oh well I guess that’s nice of you thanks, what did you wanna talk to me about?”

“You never asked for my blessing to marry Amy did you”

“Well I never thought I would need your blessing to marry her”

“Well you’re fucking mistaken, you knew she’s been riding my dick for 3 years now, Amy is a good fuck, obedient, doesn’t complain and she got you to do all the boyfriend shit so she doesn’t bother me with that shit, and you know she wouldn’t marry you if I told her not to right? You realize that?”

You were confused by the conversation and how comfortable he was telling you all this about the woman you’re supposed to marry in an hour, but you also knew he was right, Amy would call off the wedding the second he tells her to, you had to find a way to save yourself from all this embarrassment.

“You’re right Adam, you’ve been here before me and I should’ve asked it slipped my mind, but please don’t do this, I love Amy and want to marry her more than anything please give me your blessing Adam”

His smile gets bigger “I knew you’d know the right thing to do, you’re a good cuck, and the bitch can do worse than you so I’ll tell you what, she told me how much you make, 50% of that will be transferred to me every month and I’ll let you go through with this thing”

50% of your income is a lot of money, you start to consider it for a second but you realize you can’t let yourself be humiliated in front of all your friends and family.

“Yes, okay, I can do that”

“Smart move”

You realize how desperate you must’ve sounded because he starts to push even further.

“Make sure you don’t miss a month cuz I’ll be quick to make that call, considering how generous I’m being with you, you’re gonna address me as Sir from now on”

You nod your head thinking about the possibility of losing your wife.

“Alright, thank you and I’m sorry for not asking for your blessing before” you say trying to calm him down and get the day to go smoothly.

“That’s not how you thank and apologize to a man” he said and he extends his barefoot to you, he doesn’t need to tell you what to do, you know what you have to do to keep your wife, you get on your knees, kiss his feet and say “thank you Sir”

“Good boi, I’ll send Amy tonight when I’m done emptying my cum in her”

[youunravelme]

slowly, then all at once

author's note: i'm going through some shit and needed to alleviate it with fluff and also it's mat's birthday (or at least it was when i started this)! EDIT: this takes place in an alternative TATGYLB universe bc went an ENTIRELY different direction with this series (because i don't plan well lolol). (stole the title from the fault in our stars because that book had me in a CHOKEHOLD at 14)

pairing: mat barzal x reader

warnings: none? cursing?

summary: the stages of mat falling in love with you

mat saw how you were with ella, the way you'd smile and talk to her like she could hold a conversation. or the way you never chided him or condescended to him when he did something completely stupid.

which is more than what he could say about his teammates.

so when he heard your piece of shit boyfriend screaming at you over the phone? or when he showed up unannounced and trying to "win you back?"

mat was livid.

he was sure jason had never hit you, because if there was any indication of that, mat would be all over it.

so while he's sure jason never inflicted physical harm, he saw the way you kept to yourself and even the way you looked surprised at his invitation to lunch or the game.

it broke his heart a little, to think that you'd never once considered yourself now a part of his life. when, in fact, the second you agreed to watch ella, it was like he'd pulled you into the fold.

he was on a mission to prove it to you.

inviting you to his game was the first step in his original plan.

well.

it was the first non intimidating step. (tito mentioned that maybe meeting his mom and sister after only knowing him for like a week was not the smartest move he'd ever made.)

you still looked out of your element when he asked, but he's positive that it was his own enthusiasm that convinced you to say yes.

and he thought it was a great idea! he got you and jason tickets, thinking that maybe you'd be more comfortable with having him around. and perhaps that was true at some point, but when he saw you, standing with only ella and sydney with water lining your eyes, something in his chest twisted.

you looked shaken, like someone had stuck you in a blender.

"where's jason?" was apparently the wrong thing to ask because sydney changed the subject almost immediately.

you wouldn't even look at him.

and when you told him about your piece of shit boyfriend leaving you?

mat wasn't prepared for the burning in his chest. no one got away with treating a friend of his that way, but seeing as you just avoided the topic altogether, he dropped it.

until you went upstairs to your apartment and didn't text him. tito would say he has a habit of hovering at times and maybe he never really agreed until five minutes passed without a word from you.

if you asked, he would've denied the intense concern growing in his chest. but how else was he supposed to react when you seemed so dissociated the rest of the night?

thankfully, you picked up almost immediately.

"hello?"

mat cleared his throat. "hey, you never texted me to say you got in alright. you okay?”

now it could've only been a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime before he heard your voice.

“keep the car running, i’ll be down in a few minutes.”

mat was ready to grab ella and head upstairs, car be damned.

he couldn't hear what else really happened on the phone, he only knew that you came downstairs, empty handed, and frazzled. the sight alone had him contemplating going into your apartment to figure out exactly what was going on, but he knew the best decision was take you back to his place.

he'd figured it out when jason showed up with his daughter's car seat screaming at you for wearing his clothes. screaming at you like you were somehow in the wrong, like he wasn't the one who cheated on you.

you.

who had to be the most selfless person he knew (don't tell his mom).

you.

who had readily agreed to take care of his daughter on a whim because he was insanely scared.

you.

who was one of the only topic of conversation his mother wanted to discuss. it used to just be hockey and how he was doing. now the thirty minute phone calls turned into hour and a half long facetimes where ella and you are regular topics for discussion.

mat couldn't comprehend how someone could look at you and want to tear you down, but after you officially broke up with jason? he was determined to show you how much you deserved.

exhibit a

"it's five sugars, right?" mat called over his shoulder once he heard your footsteps coming into the kitchen.

you paused in the doorway. "what?"

mat turned around, two mugs of coffee in his hands. "you like five sugars, right?"

ella sat on your hip but didn't seem to give a flying fuck that he was in front of her.

"you--you remembered?" you tilted your head. "you only made me coffee like once?"

mat's face heated up at the implication but smirked anyway. "i have a great memory!"

"could've surprised me from the amount of times you get hit."

mat shrugged, still not completely used to the idea of you watching his games, even if they were just highlights. he held the mug out to you in exchange for ella.

"you wanna come to a game again?" he offered.

you looked at him before breaking eye contact and sipping your coffee. "i don't know if that's the best idea after last time. i don't want to embarrass you again--"

"woah woah woah," mat sat his coffee mug on the island before holding a hand up at you. it didn't sit right with him to see you so ashamed of something someone else did. "what happened at the game was not your fault. it was his, okay? you weren't to blame."

"you weren't even there to see it--"

"and i don't need to, okay? i know you." he meant it. but seeing as the conversation was getting a little too heavy, he changed the subject. "just think about it! and let me know what game you want to go to."

you didn't say anything, but just gave him a small smile and nodded.

he'd count it as a win.

exhibit b

it'd been about four months since you'd started working with mat, three months since you moved in.

not that he was counting.

there were things that were harder with having you around. mainly remembering to wear a shirt when he wakes up in the morning, or to not adjust his junk until he was in the bathroom or his bedroom.

but--

there were many more things that were significantly easier (and better) with you in his life (and apartment).

sleep training ella was easy as hell

keeping an eye on ella who was walking now

the apartment actually smelled nice? not that it smelled bad before, but now it smelled like a home.

and who knew decorative pillows made a difference?

but his favorite thing recently?

grocery shopping.

he was currently pushing ella around in a shopping cart while you scrolled on your phone through the list.

"so what do we need next?" he asked.

"if you'd give me a second, i'd have the answer for you," you snipped.

by now, mat was used to your snide comments, knowing that you were just a bit quippy when you were focused.

"ella, is your nanny being a little cranky?" he joked, ignoring the glare you were shooting his way.

you rolled your eyes and tossed a bag of bread at his head that would've hit its mark had he not had the reflexes that gave him a professional hockey career.

"excuse me?" an older woman spoke up from behind him. "as cute as your little family is, can you move out of the way? you're clogging up the aisle."

mat blinked. time froze. he'd never fully considered the implications of the three of you out in public together. but being the comment of you, him, and ella being a "little family" had his heart stopping in his chest.

"oh of course!" you spoke up and grabbed mat by the arm. the feel of your touch alone had him directing his attention to the physical contact.

he looked at you instead of the woman, watched as you mumbled to ella as you pulled all three of you out of the way. his brain went on overdrive.

god he never wanted you to let go of him ever again. he would give anything to just be able to hold onto you a little longer.

and he must've been thinking for too long because you were snapping your fingers in front of his face?

"mat? you okay? did i lose you there?" you had a cute pinch between your brows and a small frown on your face.

that wouldn't do.

so he smiled and nodded. "sorry, just thinking about something."

you.

exhibit c

you went out for the night with sydney while he hung out with tito and anders. initially, you said you'd look for a sitter to cover you, but mat laughed that suggestion off.

he didn't say it, but you were no longer a nanny to him anymore. and you deserved a night off without the stress of finding a replacement. anders and marty suggested a babysitter that he hired for the night immediately.

"are you sure you don't want me to wait until she gets here? i can help explain ella's routine!" you said.

mat rolled his eyes as he herded you towards the door. "i'll be fine, go have fun!"

you let him gently push you out of the door but turned around and looked at him. "if you need me, text me."

mat smiled. "if you need me, call me."

the babysitter arrived five minutes early which meant mat could spend that time kissing ella's cheeks and reiterating her schedule to the sitter.

he was the last person at the bar, anders and tito were already sitting in a booth, each with a beer in their hands, an extra one on the table for him (he assumed).

"didn't wanna leave ella?" anders asked.

tito scoffed. "more like he didn't wanna leave mama bear." mat rolled his eyes while anders cackled in response.

"shut up, beau."

"ah! but you didn't deny it!"

mat shook his head and took a seat in the leather booth. "what's there to deny? we're roommates and she watches ella all the time. we're friends."

tito made a noise in the back of his throat. "you and i are friends, barzy. you make goo goo eyes at her when you think no one is looking."

"no i don't."

anders piped in. "you nearly ran into me on the ice because you were staring at her wearing your jersey."

"no," he defended. "ella was making a really cute face!"

anders blinked at him before rolling his eyes. "sure, barzy."

mat grumbled under his breath and chugged half his beer.

two hours or so had passed with the three of them talking shit about other teams. anders had hinted at leaving, checking his phone just to make sure grace didn't text him. mat found himself doing the same thing to make sure the babysitter hadn't said anything, or maybe to see if you had.

tito didn't seem to give two shits about his phone. and why would he? he was the only one without kids.

they were in the middle of a conversation about the upcoming devils game when mat's phone started buzzing.

sydney martin.

mat picked up the phone, albeit a bit confused. "hello?"

"mat! hey!" sydney greeted. "are you busy?"

mat glanced at tito and anders whose brows were furrowed. "no, why what's up?" his swore his heart stopped in his chest when she said your name. "is she okay? what's wrong?"

"she's a little drunk and crying and asking for you. i don't know if you're sober enough--"

"i'm sober," he said. "only had one beer." he was already reaching for his keys in his pocket. "what's she crying about?"

sydney sighed through the phone. "we saw jason and her old roommate out at the bar tonight. he made a few comments."

mat's jaw clenched. he forced words out through his teeth. "what did he say?"

"mat--"

"no, if he said some shit, sydney, i need to know."

"no," she corrected. "what you need to do is get over here and take her home."

mat was already standing. "i'm on my way."

sydney hung up.

"everything okay?" anders asked.

"probably something to do with mama bear," tito commented.

mat sighed. "she ran into her piece of shit ex and is now inconsolable. i have to go pick her up."

anders snorted. "right. 'have to.'"

mat ignored the comment and said goodbye, already rushing out of the bar to get to you.

it was another ten minutes before he saw you, standing outside a bar with sydney. he could see your tears from the car.

mat jumped out and hurried towards you. sydney all but pushed you into his arms.

and it felt like the world made sense again. you fit perfectly in his arms, against his chest, head tucked into his neck.

"mat--" you sobbed. "i--i can't--"

he kissed the top of your head. "let's get you home, okay?"

exhibit d

ella was saying actual words now like most babies her age. mat used to look at anders, marty, and other parents a little judgmentally, he'll admit, because while babies learning to do things was incredibly cool, he didn't fully understand the hype.

until she said dada for the first time.

it damn near made him cry.

and like for all of her other milestones, you were there beside him with your phone recording the moment. you almost missed it, but you had a sixth sense for those things, figuring out when ella was going to do something incredible.

that was two weeks ago and it still never got old to hear her say his name when he came home or rounded the corner.

he'd been known as mathew, mat, barzy, barzal, gary, and a slew of other names, but dada had to be his favorite. to belong to someone who needed you so wholly was the best feeling in the world.

that and seeing you smile at him.

he'd accepted it now, there was no denying it, not after half the team was on his case about his feelings for you. and how could he not fall in love with you? you were gentle and kind and handled the shittiest situations with so much grace (he wasn't joking, he'd wanted to fight jason the second you came out of your old apartment looking like you'd seen a ghost).

you handled his friends with ease, never letting tito's teasing affect you. you handled the "mama bear" nickname with ease, even laughing at it at times.

you just made his world so much better just by existing in it.

which is why he gave you the day off while he and tito took ella around the city.

ella was fine for most of the day, though she kept glancing around.

"probably looking for mama bear," tito guessed. "i would be too if you were the one looking after me."

mat flipped him off behind ella's back. "i'm not an idiot."

"before you met mama bear, you kinda were."

he rolled his eyes. "sorry for not knowing how to take care of a baby as soon as i find out i have one. most people have nine months to prepare for the arrival of a child. ella literally showed up on my doorstep."

truth be told, he was parroting the words you'd said to him a week ago when the guilt settled in about how much of a shitty father he was. you were quick to correct him, saying the exact things he told tito, that for a man who found out he had a child only a few months ago, he was doing a great job, and he was even better than some other fathers who left the parenting to their partner.

"i'd never leave you hanging like that," he'd said to you.

but you shrugged off his comment. "it's a little different when it's my job to take care of your kid, mat."

"you've done a great job, barzy," beau said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "there's no doubt about it. you can tell because she loves you."

ella smiled at mat and pushed his cheeks together.

"what do you say we get back to mama bear, huh?" he asked his daughter who only seemed to smile wider at the mention your nickname.

it was another fifteen minutes before they were home, rowdy and disturbing the peace and quiet you'd created for yourself.

"we're back!" mat called as tito shut the front door behind him.

they were setting things down on the floor by the door when you walked out in sweats.

"mama bear!” tito cheered.

you smiled and mat couldn't breathe. "how was my baby?"

mat was embarrassed to say he almost answered for himself. "she was great," was what he said instead. "isn't that right, ella bean?"

ella was reaching for you, making grabby hands in your general direction babbling something he couldn't quite make out.

"what'd you say, baby?" you asked.

"mama," she said.

and the room went silent.

mat's eyes kept darting from ella to you like he was watching a game of olympic table tennis. ella kept reaching for you until you finally gave in and held her. it was then he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks.

mat immediately went into defense mode.

"i'm sorry, i promise i didn't teach her intentionally, she probably picked it up from us calling you mama bear all the time and--"

you shut him up by placing a small kiss on his cheek and squeezing his forearm before turning on your heel.

"let's take a nap, ella bean."

mat couldn't speak, not even when you left the room. tito clapped him on the shoulder before heading towards the kitchen.

"you're so gone for her."

exhibit e

"are you sure about this?" you called from the other room. mat was in the living room adjusting his tie in the mirror on the wall while the babysitter was playing with ella on the floor.

to be honest, when he was complaining to beau about not having a date to some charity event the islanders were hosting, he wasn't expecting beau to suggest you. though, given how beau kept winking and nudging him after every time you and mat so much as made eye contact, it shouldn't have been surprising.

it wasn't that he didn't think of asking you, it was more like he didn't think you'd actually say yes.

"sure about what?" he called back.

"bringing me."

"i've never been more sure about something in awhile."

"you're so dramatic," you laughed.

mat would give anything to bottle up the sound.

"does this look okay?' mat turned when your voice sounded closer than it was a second ago.

he couldn't breathe.

god you looked beautiful.

"oh," you said softly. "your tie matches my dress."

if he could've he would've looked down to confirm your observation, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. your hair was perfectly styled, your makeup, flawless. the navy of your dress was perfectly matched to his tie and pocket square, something that shouldn't matter as much to him as it did.

but it was you.

so it meant the world.

you looked like you were his.

"yeah," was all he could say.

"you never answered my question," you said. "do i look okay? because if it's too much--"

"perfect," he said. "you look perfect."

you smiled. "sydney picked it out." thank you sydney. "you look handsome too mat, though, your tie..." you gestured to his neck so he turned around to see it crooked still. "do you need help?"

"yes please," he sighed. "i've looked up videos, but tito usually helps me do it."

"aw," you cooed. "you looked it up? that's so cute!" your deft fingers began undoing the knot and redoing it way better than he could've.

"how are you so good at this?"

you shrugged. "when i was fourteen, i read a book where a girl tied her husband's tie and i wanted to be able to do the same for the love of my life one day. so i asked my dad to teach me. i'm a bit of a hopeless romantic."

the love of your life.

god he'd give anything to be loved by you.

and it would be so easy just to lean forward a couple of inches and kiss you.

right there.

give in to what he'd been feeling for months.

but the babysitter rounded the corner with ella who was chanting mama and dada which somehow ruined the mood and made him want to kiss you even more.

"be good, sweet girl. we'll see you tomorrow." you made your way to the front door while he kissed his daughter on the head.

"i'm not sure how long we'll be out, but i'll keep you updated," he told the babysitter.

the babysitter nodded, which to be honest, he barely noticed because his attention was back on you and how your dress, while it had sleeves, had a dip in the back. he didn't know that skin could be so alluring, but maybe it was the fact that it was you.

mat cleared his throat and bid the babysitter and ella goodbye before ushering the both of you out of the door.

the drive lasted longer than he wanted it to, mainly because he couldn't wait to get to the event just to show you off.

was this how he was supposed to feel with all of his other exes? the desire to show the world you were his?

"you okay? you're quiet, it's unlike you," you said.

mat shrugged, mainly so he didn't immediately profess his feelings. "just a lot on my mind."

"uh oh. that can't be good," you joked. you leaned over the console and placed your chin in your hand. "you wanna talk about it?"

mat's hands on the wheel tensed, mainly to keep himself from leaning over and kissing you immediately.

"i'm good, maybe we can discuss it later."

you shrugged. "if you say so."

the both of you arrived at the event shortly thereafter with mat passing his keys off to the valet. "stay seated," he told you before getting out and rounding the car to open your door.

"you didn't have to--"

"i know," he smiled. "i wanted to." mat offered you his arm and you took it, wrapping your hand around his bicep like it belonged there.

the two of you spotted marty and sydney first; the latter all but shrieked when she saw you.

"you look amazing!" she said before tugging you out of mat's arm and into her own. "i told you this dress was the one."

"you didn't say i would've matched mat," you mumbled, though he still heard it over the buzz in the room. he was always listening to you.

marty nudged him. "you seem pleased with yourself."

mat smiled. "i am."

you were laughing at something sydney said when tito came up and clapped him and marty on the shoulders. "let's get you a drink, barzy. you look thirsty." he leaned in. "in more than one way."

mat shoved him off and leaned towards you, gently touching your arm. "i'm going with beau and marty to get a drink, but i'll be back."

you smiled and nodded. "okay, don't worry about me, mat. i'll be fine in your absence."

he let himself be whisked away from you and towards the bar where a drink was placed in his hand pretty quickly.

"so," tito started. "you two match."

"it was syd's doing," marty explained. "she orchestrated the whole thing. picked out the dress based on the tie mat wears every year. it was her new project."

mat flushed but did his best to brush it off.

"i don't know how you did it barzy," tito continued. "she looks good. if i were you i would've--"

"watch it, beauvillier."

"i was gonna say--"

"i don't care what you were gonna say, i probably wouldn't have liked it."

"well then, maybe you should take a chance and ask her out finally. the pining was cute at first, now it's bordering on pathetic."

mat rolled his eyes while marty laughed into his drink.

"look, you have a good thing going, you brought her here as your date, ella calls her mama, you two are as good as locked in and committed. you just have to do the hard work of officially asking her out!"

his gaze travelled to the other side of the room where you were laughing along with sydney and grace. you looked like you belonged in his world.

effortlessly.

mat made a move to go over to you, but marty caught his arm. "this is not the place to ask her out," he said. "as much as you want to, you don't want her thinking it took a pretty dress to get you to take her out."

"that's not the case here--"

"does she know that?"

mat rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink.

it was another thirty minutes before he made his way back to you. he found you standing alone on the balcony with a glass of champagne in your hand.

"you okay?" he asked. "no one's bothering you or anything, right?"

you looked over your shoulder and snorted. "i'm not important enough to be bothered by the donors, mat."

"don't say that. you're important."

you rolled your eyes. "not what i meant, mathew."

god he loved it when you said his name.

"i just meant that the donors don't really pay attention to me, so i've just been hanging out with the wives all night since my date ditched me," you teased.

"okay to be fair, tito pulled me away, i would've stayed with you all night if i could've."

you blinked. "really?" you asked in a small voice.

he nodded until he found the words to speak. "i love spending time with you. you're one of my favorite people."

within a split second you were closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his waist. your arms snuck under his coat so that the only thing separating your skin from his was the thin material of his dress shirt.

it only took him a split second to react to the hug and wrap you in his arms.

you mumbled against his chest. "you're one of my favorite people, too."

in conclusion:

in the end, there was nothing special about that day. it was a saturday in the middle of july back in coquitlam. by the grace of god, he'd convinced you to come to canada for him, not that you could really refuse as he was the one signing your paychecks, you'd joked (though he made it clear he'd continue paying you even if you didn't go).

and maybe he regretted it a little bit, seeing you bond with his family was another nail in his coffin of falling deeper in love with you. there was no way out now, not that he'd ever want one.

it was one particularly hot day in the summer that mat dragged you and the rest of his family to the beach. and maybe that was a mistake (seeing you in a red bikini in public should be illegal).

you sat in the sand with ella building castles, or at least attempting to, while he tried to drown liana in the water. it wasn't until liana finally dunked him, that he trudged back to shore, bent out of shape and irritated.

"you can dish it out but can't take it?" you teased as he plopped onto the sand next to you.

mat glared instead of saying anything mainly because ella was starting to pick up more and more words and she'd say "fuck" too many times thanks to his mouth.

speaking of, when she saw her dad, ella immediately called him before throwing herself into his lap, completely forgetting about you. it was funny to see mainly because it was a new trend of ella's, ditching you for him. it was even funnier because how put out you'd be about it.

just like now with your lip poked out and your eyes rolling.

"oh don't be a sore loser," mat said. "she used to love you more than me."

"well that makes sense, i'm way more likable than you are."

"i can't argue that."

liana came running into their direct line of sight with a polaroid camera in her hand. "i wanna get a picture of the happy family," she said as her explanation. "say cheese!"

mat froze but you didn't bat an eyelash at the idea of being called family. sure, he'd considered you a part of his ever since you agreed to watch his child, but he didn't know you felt the same.

"smile, mathew," you nudged him in the ribs.

he turned his head towards you, ignoring his sister's groans and chirps. he ignored the sound of a camera clicking and the subsequent flash that followed.

his focus was on you.

"mat, what're you looking at?" you asked. he could vaguely register liana walking away as your eyes searched his face for any hint of what could be going on, but all he could think about was you.

you wearing his jersey and holding ella at the stanley cup finals.

you in a few years with a ring on your left hand that he put there.

you with a newborn baby that was the perfect mix of the both of you.

you, old and crinkly, holding his hand on the couch as you told your grandkids stories.

you.

you.

you.

before he could even stop himself, he leaned forward and captured your lips with his.

you responded not a beat later.

and maybe it was embarrassing, how eager he was or how his hand felt like the perfect fit against your cheek. but he couldn't give a shit.

not when he'd waited so long for something like this. for someone like this.

and when you both pulled away, much too soon in his opinion, your eyes were wide.

"why'd you do that?" you whispered.

he shrugged and adjusted ella in his arms. "because my life is better with you in it. because i love you." he cleared his throat. "why'd you kiss me back?"

you smiled and leaned into kiss him again. this time though, instead of pulling fully away, you stayed close so that your lips brushed his. "because i love you too."