#was stopping every two seconds to simp at every frame

[knightorchids]

Harding holds the line.

[cerisereids]

𝐈'𝐦 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐀𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐂𝐮𝐩- 𝐒.𝐑.

Pairing- Spencer Reid x ChildrensLibrarian!Reader

WC- 4.7k

Summary- Spencer stumbles on an incredibly special story time at the library one day. It changes everything.

Contains- Miss Honey-esque reader, Spencer is a complete and total simp, reader is described with curly hair that can be tucked behind her ears, idiots in love, love-ish at first sight, they keep missing each other until they don't

A/N- heavily recommend listening to potion by djo while reading this 😇 (also just in general) divider from @thecutestgrotto! Blurb of their date can be found here!

Spencer Reid is on a mission. The smoky scent of the local library engulfs him, the earthiness nearly swallowing him whole as the sliding doors part. He’s single minded today, on the hunt for Trediakovsky’s Razgovor ob Ortografii. While the study of the phonetic structure of the Russian language sounds like some light reading to him, his use for it today is much more sinister. The case they’re on is local, a serial killer leaving Russian poems at each crime scene. The letters and words twist in his mind as he tries to make sense of them, of why they were picked, why they were left at certain crime scenes, why-

“Now every year in Africa, they hold the Jungle Dance, where every single animal turns up to skip and prance!” He freezes in his tracks.The softest voice lilts its way in his head, breaking through his swirling sinister speculations. It’s a girl. The prettiest one he’s ever seen. His heart picks up at the sight of her, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes drape over her frame, the way her soft dress flows over it. They nearly roll back in his head once he sees the soft fabric delicately, deliciously, cinch her waist. 

She’s reading to a crowd of eager listeners, most of them below the age of seven. She’s able to captivate what could be an incredibly rambunctious group, and that feat alone is enough to stop Spencer in his tracks. 

“And this year when the day arrived, poor Gerald felt so sad, because when it came to dancing, he was really very bad,” a soft sadness captivates her voice, prompting a few ‘awww’s from the crowd of littles. 

Before Spencer could stop himself, before he knew what he was even doing, he took two steps toward her, lingering gently in the back of the crowd. There’s a voice in the deepest recess of his mind- ‘focus on the case, focus on the book.’ And yet, the only thing he can focus on is the way each word fits around her mouth, her supple lips twisting and turning to capture each word, each nuance. 

“The warthogs started waltzing, and the rhinos rock ‘n’ rolled,” she whips her hair slightly, her fingers stretched in a ‘rock on’ sign that encourages fits of giggles from the group. Spencer himself even cracks a smile. 

Soon enough, Spencer’s learned all about Gerald- the giraffe who can’t dance- and how he finds his confidence, and how the audience can too! She’s so enthralling, the way her ringlets bounce with each movement, the shine of her lip gloss in the fluorescent light- how can someone look that good in fluorescent lighting? So enthralling, he doesn’t even register how weird it might look that he’s the only childless adult in the group. A fact he should be self conscious of, if it weren’t for the way his heart pounds when he looks at her. 

He eventually retreats, pursuing the foreign language section in the world’s most pathetic attempt at nonchalance. Really, he should win an award for stupidity, with the way his eyes find her every 30 seconds, desperate to keep her in his line of sight. Soon enough, a light, floral aroma breaks through the bibliosmia coating the building. He turns, almost flinching at the proximity to her. 

“Hi,” she smiles, and he’s a goner. His ever racing mind, the one that couldn’t shut off just moments ago, now rendered completely useless thanks to a sundress and perfume. IQ slashed to 80, as the team likes to say. “You seemed to be very interested in Gerald the dancing giraffe, I can’t help but think these books might be a little bit out of your lexile range, if that’s the case,” she references the stacks of Russian literature they stand before. 

He chuckles, a breathless, unbelieving sound forced from his chest. His cheeks tint, a reddish hue overtaking them. He looks at his shoes. “Uhm, yeah. Yeah. I guess that would be the case wouldn’t it?” He makes the mistake of looking back up at her. Their eyes meet. His heart stops. 

This must be what dying feels like. He’s dying, isn’t he? He has to be, because there’s no way people feel this way every time they’re attracted to someone. How would anyone get anything done? She giggles then, and it only makes it worse. 

“What are you really here for? Let me help you,” she smiles, and he almost keels over at that moment. 

“I’m looking for Trediakovsky, Razgovor ob Ortografii,” the Russian flows neatly off his tongue. Her eyes widen, an impressed smile creeping up her lips. 

She nods, “Hm, handsome and smart, I’ll have to remember you.” He’s dizzy as he watches her scan through the rows of books- a perfectly manicured finger grazing the spines. He wonders what it’d be like for her to do that down his own spine. He shivers. 

“Ah! Here it is!” she plucks it from the shelf, turning to him with an assured smile. “I can only give it to you if you tell me your name.”

A blush creeps up his neck once more, he avoids eye contact. His heart drops when he hears his phone beep in his back pocket. The case. His face goes white as he rips it from his pocket, coming face to face with a message from Derek. 

Hello??? We’ve been waiting for 45 minutes. I hope the unsub got you because that’s the only reason I won’t whoop your ass for taking so long. 

Spencer’s blush deepens He puts his phone down, coming face to face with her again. Her brows are furrowed this time, a pout on her lips that feels like an anvil on his heart. 

“I have to go, I’m so sorry. I’m-um-yeah,” he turns, running off at the speed of light. He leaves the library. Without the book. 

20 minutes later, he’s stuck in the passenger seat of the SUV, next to a very disapproving Morgan. 

“I mean, you’re literally considered a genius by governmental standards, Reid. I don’t know how you forgot the one thing you needed from this library,” Morgan’s fingers tap against the steering wheel in their own impatient dance. 

Spencer’s heart stops as they pull up to the library, the only saving grace of this moment the sheer prospect of being able to see her again. His palms sweat as he walks in behind Derek, who immediately flashes his badge to the older woman at the front desk. Spencer follows suit, and he sees the woman’s eyes light up in a way that says ‘hey, I know you!’  

He prays she won’t say anything about his earlier…conversations with her coworker, desperate to keep it from Derek as long as possible. At least until he knows her name. But of course, he’s afforded no such luck. 

“Oh, I had a feeling you’d be back! You were looking for the Russian book, yes? The…Trediakovsky?” She pushes up the sleeves of her pink knit cardigan as she moves, maneuvering the tiny space they stand before. 

“Ah! Here it is, our lovely children’s librarian dropped it off for you, said you might be coming back for it,” there’s a twinkle in her eye as she says it. Spencer’s face is red as a beet, he can just feel it. “She really is very good, you know. Families come from miles away to hear her read. If either of you have little ones at home, feel free to come see us, tell ‘em Myrtle sent ya,” she winks as she scans the book. Spencer locks his eyes on her movements, even when Morgan glances back at him. Especially when Morgan glances back at him. 

Once it’s been checked out, he grabs it from her with a breathy, “thank you,” before rushing off to the parking lot. 

He stops with his hand at the car door, frozen in place at the sight of her. She’s toting multiple large bags through the parking lot, arms full of various costumes and fabrics as she attempts to unlock her car. Derek saddles up behind him, lifting his sunglasses. His confused gaze melts into one of petulant understanding, an older brother who found his diary littered with his crush’s name. 

“Ahh, now I see why you forgot,” he ruffles his hair before jogging to the other side of the car. “I’d give you a chance to go help her, but your little mistake has now put us back 40 minutes. Get in.”

Spencer rolls his eyes, cheeks heating even more when she turns towards their voices, their eyes connecting. There’s a sparkle in hers, one of kind familiarity that sends his heart into a tailspin. He nods ever so slightly. He gets in the car. 

You walk up and down the aisles, browsing the expansive children’s section for this week’s read aloud. Giraffes Can’t Dance was a hit, for more than your usual reasons. You shake that thought from your head, burying the unusual disappointment of not seeing the handsome, illusive stranger since that day. You clocked him the second he walked through the door, frenzied and frantic. You clocked the way he slowed down when he saw you, the small, purposeful steps he took in contrast with the quick pitter pats of his entrance. 

His eyes never left you the whole time. While that’s not atypical during your story times, it usually comes from wide-eyed toddlers, not the most handsome being on two legs. His eyes were jet streams, steering gusts of wind right through you, rendering you breathless. You could never forget those brown eyes. It’s making you nearly insane. 

You crouch in front of your seasonal display, various titles about the arrival of spring popping out at you. You decide on one of your favorites- There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Frog. You glance at the clock- you have about an hour until the kids begin arriving. You have plenty of time to get into costume. You smooth down the front of your dress, knowing it’ll be covered in one of Myrtle's cardigans in no time. 

You situate yourself in the break room, assembling all your necessary materials to get ready for this morning’s read aloud. You fix a grey wig onto your head, along with fake glasses with a chain. You complete your look by adding wrinkles along your face, even going so far as to grab your frog puppet. Puppets are a necessity in a read aloud. 

Your heels click their way out to the main lobby, where families have already begun to trickle in. You’re already in character, greeting the kids in a shaky voice, pretending not to recognize your own name.

"You're looking for who? Well, I've never heard of her in my whole life!" You'd insist to fits of giggles.

You eventually make your way over to the chair, frog and book in hand. You’re still waiting for one person in particular, though you know wishing to see him again would be like wishing on a dead star.

Every time you hear the door open, your back straightens just slightly. You’re met with Myrtle’s disappointed shake of the head each time. She’s heard your ramblings all about this mystery man over the past week, and of course is in full support. She even told you she gave your read alouds a shoutout, just so he would come back. You smile at the memory, though your heart sinks at the prospect of him not coming back. It’s agony, not even knowing his name. You could at least have done some internet stalking, but no. The world does not seem to be so kind. 

Until it is. Myrtle shoots up, a gleeful ‘hello!’ spilling from her lips. Your heart begins racing, pounding against your ribcage with fervor. You see a familiar head of brown, fluffy hair, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips. You even forget your ridiculous getup, if only for a moment. 

It doesn’t take long for the universe to unleash its cruelty once more, as a blonde woman with two children walks in behind him. Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. Of course he’s taken, you think, face burning with humiliation. He wasn’t wearing a ring, so you’d assumed you just got lucky. Clearly not. 

The boys are adorable, though it takes everything in you to put a smile on your face. You welcome them in your crotchety grandma voice, despite wishing for the ground to swallow you whole.

His soft chuckle rings in your ears, ricocheting like gunshots. You flinch. His smile drops at that, his eyes studying you in a way that leaves you vulnerable, raw. You can’t help but catch his gaze, silently communicating to this stranger everything he’s made you feel. 

Once the kids are all accounted for, you begin your story. For a moment, you disconnect, losing yourself entirely in the story of the old lady who swallowed the frog, the dirt, the seeds, the sunlight. Once the story is finished, you place the book in your lap to thunderous applause. 

“Wow! Thanks so much for joining me in that journey, friends!” you exclaim, your grandma voice still entirely intact. “Now, I have a special surprise for you guys,” you wiggle your eyebrows as the kids anticipatingly lean forward. 

You reach behind you, grabbing seeds for various plants- marigolds, sunflowers, lettuce, and beans. “We are going to plant some seeds, just like my friend here swallowed!” You point to the old lady on the cover of the book. “We are going to be the first planters in our new community garden here at the library!” 

The kids take immediate gratification in this activity, racing to get their own pouch of seeds to plant. You line them up in an orderly fashion, your mystery man front and center- of course- before leading them out to their own section of the garden. You walk up and down the patch of grass your boss so gracefully granted you for this project, a smile wide on your face. 

That is, until you bump into him. You stop abruptly, face heating as his gorgeous brown eyes bore into yours. Your heart shutters against your chest, completely ignoring the blonde woman behind him with two kids. 

“Oh!” You gasp. “Uhm-hello, I- I didn’t think I’d see you again. It’s good to have you here, with the whole family!” There’s an airy lilt to your voice, disingenuous in every way possible. He sees right through it, you can tell by the light chuckle, followed by the realization dawning on his raised brow, his wide eyes. 

“Oh! Oh, no-I uhm, this is my-” he clears his throat, gesturing to the woman and children behind him. “This is my coworker, and her kids. Her kids with another man-uhm-not with me. I’m just the godfather.” 

His face is beet red. You can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes you. You smile gently at his awkwardness, thankful you’re not the only one feeling vulnerable seeing him again. 

“Hi, I’m Jennifer,” the blonde says, shaking your hand and wiggling her way in between you two. 

“Jennifer, hi,” you smile, breathing out your own name in return.

“And these are my two boys, Henry and Michael!” She scoops up the youngest one, and you absolutely melt. They’re both the picture of sweetness, big blue eyes and chubby cheeks that won’t quit. They excitedly wave hello and you crouch down to meet the older one at eye level.

“Well, hello!” You chirp. “How are you? It’s so nice to meet you!” He’s shy, you can tell by the way his cheek meets his shoulder, the bashful look in his eye. 

“I liked your story,” he mumbles. Your heart is a puddle in your chest. Those four words are music to your ears, the reason you show up day in and day out. 

“I’m so glad! Have you gotten the chance to plant anything yet, Henry?” You ask, and he nods fervently. 

“I planted marigolds with my brudder!” He exclaims, grabbing your hand to show you his hard work. 

“Wow! Look at you two!” You exclaim, turning back to include the little one in his mom’s arms. Though, when you do turn, you freeze at the big, brown eyes still trained on you. His gaze is sparkling, full of light and adoration that make you feel fuzzy inside. Your stomach is a butterfly garden, rendering you lovesick and dizzy. 

You finch at the sharp beep of a cell phone, Jennfier reaching in her back pocket with her free hand. She groans, and your heart drops. 

“Spencer, we gotta go,” she whispers, though you catch his name and cling onto it for dear life. 

Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. 

His face falls, yours with it. You mirror each other’s regret, a sad smile forming on your face as the boys cling to you in deep goodbye hugs. 

“Thank you very much for your hard work,” Jennifer says. “Hopefully, we’ll be back, godfather included.” Her tone is playful, her brows wiggling as she glances in between you and Spencer. Spencer. 

The jet engine rumbles as the team settles in after another successful case. Spencer’s already made himself comfortable, curled up on the couch, desperate to think of anything other than the pretty librarian mind controlling him. He’s leaning into dramatics, this he knows. His forearm draped over his eyes, his free one limp at his side. He’s sure he looks like something out of Madame Bovary. The fabric of her dress swishing around in his mind renders him unable to care. 

That is, until he feels a rustling of his hair. He peeks over his arm to see J.J. and Derek, watching him with knowing smiles on their faces. 

“You guys look like the unsub we just caught,” Spencer muffles out, pride singed at their intentional, teasing gazes. 

“Maybe…” Derek trails, “or maybe we just want to support you. Ever thought about that?” 

This causes Spencer to sit up. Derek’s hardly ever this nice to him without a catch. He loves him for it, the way a brother would, but it doesn’t stop the hairs on the back of his neck from standing. 

“What could you possibly want to help me with?” Spencer mutters. He knows playing dumb is useless, but he’s not sure he’s ready to face the reality of his rapid heart, his swirling thoughts. 

“I don’t know…maybe a girl…” J.J. trails, and he’s a goner. “Maybe she works at the library, is great with kids, someone you couldn’t keep your eyes off of.”

He stands at that, walking to the other side of the jet. Their playful scoffs and footsteps follow behind him. 

“Oh, come on, man! There’s nothing wrong with having a little crush!” Derek teases, nudging his shoulder with his. Spencer plows ten fingers through his hair before sitting in a corner seat. 

“Aah, Boy Genius has a crush, eh?” Dave chimes in, turning in his chair to get a better look at the scene unfolding. 

“Ohh, is that why you forgot that Russian book the other week? I thought there was something up with you, I just never guessed it’d be a girl!” Emily interjects, a smile spreading on her face. 

“I am never talking to you people ever again,” Spencer states plainly, closing his eyes and turning his body away from his team. 

“Leave him alone,” he hears Hotch warn. He’s stern as always, but there’s a playful lilt in his tone that has Spencer’s cheeks heating up. Why is he on this team again?

He’s rustled awake a few hours later, surprised that he was able to get some actual shut eye on the jet. He wipes his eyes to see Derek above him. He rolls his eyes, but Derek offers him a hand, helping him up. He claps a hand on his shoulder as they walk out. 

“I’m sorry for teasing you, man,” he starts. “It’s not a bad thing to have feelings for someone, y’know? Maybe she likes you back.” 

Spencer wrestles with the thought, an activity he’s grown way too accustomed to these past few weeks. He raises a brow at Derek, an unsure, “maybe,” leaving his lips. 

Derek gives him two supportive pats before hopping off the jet. “C’mon, I’ll take ya home.”

Spencer’s brow starts to raise as Derek misses several turns, at one point going the exact opposite way of Spencer’s apartment. 

“You do know where I live, right?” He asks, confusing lacing each syllable. 

“Of course I do, genius,” the sarcasm rolls off Derek's tongue. “I just thought there’s somewhere else you’d rather be right now.”

Realization dawns on him as Derek parks in front of the library. Spencer’s heart drops, his palms immediately clamming up, mind calculating any and all possibilities. What if I smell from the jet? What if I look like I haven’t slept in four days? I mean I haven’t, but…can’t I take a shower first? 

Derek must see the reservation on his face. He checks his watch. “From what I can tell, story time starts in about 5 minutes. That’s Will’s car over there,” Derek points out the window to a blue sedan that does in fact belong to the father of his godchildren. “Go get her.”

Invigorated by his words, Spencer darts out of the car, go bag slung over his shoulder. Derek speeds off before he can change his mind, leaving Spencer to cough on the dust. A small smile forms on his face, feeling lucky to be cared for in such a way. 

He turns, now intimidated by the large building, glass windows stretching from floor to ceiling. He sees her setting up on the first floor. His heart skips a beat. 

She’s wearing a new dress today, one he hasn’t seen before, that is. It’s a cream colored, decorated with dainty pink flowers that clutch his heart. The sleeves are puffy, decorating her shoulders as she works hastily to put her finishing touches on the day’s read aloud. 

She freezes when she sees him, and it finally dawns on him how much of a creep he must look like, watching her from the window. His cheeks heat up, that panicky feeling pumping through his heart. She smiles and waves. It only makes it worse. He feels as if he could melt into a puddle, right there on the sidewalk. He manages his own smile and wave, and she moves her arm in a ‘come here!’ motion. 

It feels like he’s stuck in quicksand, the world slowing down as he enters the building. He’s not sure why, but it feels much more real this time. He’s come for her, and her only. There’s no more pretenses, no more games. It scares the living daylights out of him. He keeps walking, anyway. 

He’s greeted by Myrtle, her knowing smile growing bigger as she sees him. He offers her a polite nod, before beelining directly for the children’s area. 

“Uncle Spencer!” Two little voices cry out as Henry and Michael wrap themselves around his legs. He feels her eyes snap towards the noise, a pretty smile lining her lips as she watches the scene. 

“Hi boys!” He whispers, trying not to cause any more commotion.

He settles in behind the boys, Will giving him a very knowing nod. The small bodies quiet at her request as she opens the book. The Very Hungry Caterpillar rests delicately between her fingers, manicured nails flipping through the pages with ease. 

He watches in awe as she reads, the way she’s able to captivate a group of children, the adults, even, the ease with which she switches in and out of her goofy voices. It’s a talent. One that Spencer would do anything to watch behind the scenes. Each fruit and food mentioned gets their own moment, a stuffed apple resting on her lap, bowls of strawberries, grapes, and oranges lining the table next to her as the caterpillar wiggles his way through each food. 

By the end, the kids all have sticky faces and fingers, the smiles not leaving their faces. She’s met with raucous applause afterwards, Spencer can’t resist joining in. She rests the book in her lap and leans forward.

“Thank you so much for coming, my friends!” She squeals. “If you planted some seeds last week, we will be going out to the garden to look at our progress! If you didn’t get a chance to, don’t worry! We have plenty of seeds leftover! Please form a quiet line at the door!” 

He’s speechless at the way she commands the room, the kids wiggling around each other to get to the front. Spencer laughs at their attempts to be as quiet as possible, all while wanting to be as close as possible to their favorite librarian. He knows the feeling well. 

He finds himself back where he was a week before, waiting with Henry and Michael, waiting for her to notice him. Waiting. That pang returns, the one he’s felt these past few weeks. The waiting, the wanting, the longing. It’s almost too much for him to bear as she nears closer, her eyes alight at the work the kids have done. They shine even brighter when she reaches him, her hands clasped to her chest. 

“Wow, boys! Look at what you did! You made that! Be proud of yourself!” She’s crouched down at their level, holding her hand up for enthusiastic high fives. 

Henry’s nearly knocks her off kilter, but she readjusts on small kitten heels that Spencer has decided are the bane of his existence. They’re cute, pink sandals with a bow at the top. All he can think about is how they’d look at his front door, resting next to his Converse. 

He shakes that thought off when her gaze turns to him. By some grace of a higher power, his brain functions enough to offer her a hand. She accepts it as she rises back up, holding onto his hand for just a moment longer than necessary. It’s electric, energy charging  through his veins at her touch. It’s static on his heart, electrocuting him and rendering him completely helpless. Helpless to her. 

“Hello Spencer, it’s good to see you again,” her voice is small, flirty yet professional. She smooths down the fabric of her dress, her eyes scanning him up and down. He shifts, self consciously, but the small smile on her lips tells him she’s not judging. She never has. 

“Oh! Mr. LaMontagne, forgive me, it’s great to see you again,” she jumps, shaking his hand with forgiveness. 

Will holds a hand out, nodding his head in understanding. “No worries, doll. This has been a bit of a team effort,” he jokes, referencing between Spencer and her. 

“Oh, goodness,” she says, gentle but embarrassed. She tucks her hair behind her ears. Spencer’s officially fallen. Hard. Will nods, moving away to be with the boys. 

“So, Spencer…” She trails off, and he can’t help himself. 

“Will you go out with me?” Spencer burts. Her face lights up. “We just keep missing each other, and I think you’re incredibly beautiful and so amazing at your job. I just want to get to know you more, if you’ll let me.”His smile is bashful to match hers, his cheeks tinted a bright red. 

“That sounds amazing, thank you for thinking of me, Spencer,” her voice is so soft, he could wrap himself in it like a blanket. He breathes out a laugh, as if he could think about anything other than her. 

She grabs a pink marker from the pocket of her dress and flips his palm over. He’s once again rendered useless by her touch. He feels some ticklish scribbles, his eyes trained on her the entire time. She looks up at him through her lashes, meeting his gaze. The sight constricts his heart, those eyes gripping it firmly, squeezing for all its worth. He needs a nurse. 

“Call me, we’ll set something up,” she mutters lowly, a wink punctuating her words. Spencer nods his head bashfully, heat once again singing his cheeks. 

“Yeah, okay. Yeah,” he replies. He gives himself some grace, it’s all his brain can come up with. 

He watches her go, eyes trained on her as she continues to work her magic. The way she lights up at each child, finding something new and unique in each of them warms his heart. He smiles, eager for what the future could hold with such a sweet soul.

[tinyshyteacup]

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Tw: cussing, Hydra, medical descriptions, torture, angst, descriptions of disturbing side effects, death.

Part 2

Touch that Takes - Part 1

The lab door crashes open so violently it startles Tony, who’s mid-adjustment on a gauntlet.

Bucky storms in, hair slightly disheveled, boots heavy.

“She’s gone.”

Tony blinks. “Who?”

Bucky’s eyes flare. “Doll ... She’s gone.”

Tony straightens, mouth flattening into a grim line. “Define ‘gone,’ RoboCop. Walked out for air? Hiding in a cupboard?”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head. “She’s went to take the trash out, didnt come back.”

Tony immediately tosses the gauntlet aside and turns to the screen.

“JARVIS?”

"Last recorded location was Sublevel B. Her biometrics went offline two minutes later."

Bucky’s entire body locks up. His jaw tightens, and something primal flickers across his face.

Tony’s fingers fly over the console. “We need cameras. Every hallway. Start tracing from the basement.”

“I should’ve stayed with her,” Bucky growls.

He’s already pacing, breathing shallow.

His right hand flexes at his side, the metal arm twitching with contained violence.

But the fear—real fear—is in his eyes.

Tony pulls up grainy footage: you, stepping into the hallway with a trash bag.

Then… nothing.

The camera feed dies.

“Son of a bitch they knew how to loop footage,” Tony mutters.

Bucky leans forward, bracing both arms on the console, face set like stone. “If they hurt her…”

“We’ll get her back,” Tony assures. “JARVIS is scanning every known frequency. They won’t get far.”

But Bucky doesn’t respond. His mind is already racing.

Your voice.

The way you’d squeezed his hand earlier.

The warmth still ghosting across his lips from when he’d kissed your knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have let her go alone,”

Tony looks at him. For all his sass and sarcasm, he understands loss. He softens his tone.

“She’s stronger than she looks, we'll find her”

Bucky stares at the frozen frame on the screen—your form captured just as you stepped into the shadows.

“Yeah,” he says, voice hoarse.

“But she’s my Doll.” He whispers.

-----------------------------------------

Within fifteen minutes, the entire tower is in motion. Quinjet is fueled, and Nat, Sam, and Steve are reviewing contacts.

But Bucky?

He’s already halfway to the garage.

Tony catches him just in time. “Whoa, Tinman—where the hell are you going—your not cleared for field work?”

Bucky's metal hand grips the steering wheel of a tactical vehicle so hand it whines under his hand.

“Do you really want to stop me right now ?”

Tony doesn’t argue.

“You call me the second you find something,” Tony orders, slapping the hood. “And bring our girl home.”

-----------------------------------------

At first it's a blur of needles and pain.

Every morning begins the same way, the door to your cell slides open, and four guards enter. They no longer bother with restraints—your body is too weak from the serum treatments to fight back.

Dr. Lindstrom watches from behind her tablet as they drag you to the chair. The first time, you fought—thrashing, screaming Bucky's name until your throat was raw.

Now you can barely lift your head.

"Baseline vitals stabilizing," she notes clinically, as a technician fastens the metal halo around your skull.

"437 exhibiting increased tolerance to pain stimuli."

The chair hums to life, electricity coursing through your skull, shredding thoughts into fragments.

Your body arches.

Muscles seizing.

Someone shoves a rubber guard between your teeth.

"Memory suppression at thirty-seven percent," someone calls out.

-----------------------------------------

Stark Tower’s walls are too quiet for what’s happening.

JARVIS overlays a glowing holographic map of the building and the 100-mile radius beyond it. Your blinking signal, previously always tethered to the kitchen, common room, or the suite you share with Bucky… is gone.

Tony’s pacing, wild-eyed and rumpled. “How the hell does someone vanish into thin air with JARVIS monitoring every corner? Did she teleport? Phase through a wall? I mean—come on.”

“Tony.” Steve’s voice is low, steady. “Focus.”

Bucky leans against the far wall, shadowed, arms crossed tightly. His shoulders are stiff, the metal arm flexing in tiny, unconscious motions.

He’s not listening to Tony’s theories.

He’s watching the elevators.

Like you might walk back in.

“She wouldn’t leave,” he says quietly.

Steve glances at him. “No, she wouldn’t.”

“She didn’t choose this. Someone took her.”

Through the white-hot agony, you still cling to fragmented images—Bucky's eyes, the soft press of his lips against your knuckles, the sound of Sam Cooke playing in the kitchen.

Each day, these memories grow fainter.

After the chair comes the serum—burning through your veins like acid, rewriting your cells. Your screams echo through the facility.

"Subject's cellular structure beginning to modify," Dr. Lindstrom announces.

"Metabolic rate increased by two hundred percent."

The hunger is constant now—a gnawing, desperate ache that no amount of the tasteless nutrient paste they feed you can satisfy.

At night, you lie awake in your cell, shivering not from cold but from the serum reshaping you from within.

Sometimes, when the pain subsides briefly, you whisper his name like a prayer.

"Bucky will come. Bucky will find me."

Collins visits sometimes, watching you through the glass. His smile grows wider as your voice grows weaker.

You've stopped asking when they'll let you go.

You've stopped begging for water when the serum burns through your system.

You've stopped screaming when they strap you to the chair.

The hunger has become something else—a presence, sentient and demanding.

"Interesting," Dr. Lindstrom murmurs during one of her examinations.

She's shining a light into your eyes, observing how your pupils dilate. "Subject's irises showing first signs of pigment deterioration."

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of her glasses—your eyes darker, veins visible beneath pallid skin.

Somewhere in New York, Nat flicks through the tablet, watching the surveillance footage from that night.

She pauses.

Rewinds.

Squints.

Clint crouches in the dirt, looking for anything new.

“She was smart, Nat. But sweet. Too sweet.” His voice is tight.

“She probably never saw it coming,” Nat says quietly.

There’s a silence between them that feels heavier than the mist rolling through the streets.

“She’s the kind of person you want to protect,” Clint mutters. “Not use as bait.”

Nat clicks the tablet off. “We’ll find her. But when we do—whoever took her is going to wish it was Barnes that got to them first, not me.”

The chair sessions are longer now. Each time, fewer memories remain. But occasionally, flashes break through—Tony's sarcastic laugh as he slides a coffee across the kitchen bench to you, calling you "Thumbelina" despite your protests.

Steve's patience as you both taught Bucky how to shave again.

Bucky's forehead on yours.

These memories surface like bubbles in thick oil—brief, fragile, gone almost as soon as they appear.

During physical tests, they've noticed something new.

When one of the technicians grabbed your arm too roughly, black tendrils—like ink in water—seeped from your fingertips and wrapped around his wrist.

He collapsed, convulsing.

Dr. Lindstrom was ecstatic, you where horrified.

"First manifestation of bio-energetic absorption!" she announced, furiously taking notes. "Earlier than predicted."

They bring you rats after that.

Starve you for days, then throw them into your cell.

The first time, you recoiled in horror when the black tendrils emerged instinctively from your hands, wrapping around the creature.

You sobbed as you felt its life force flowing into you—warm, satisfying, terrifying.

"I don't want this," you whispered, trying to pull the tendrils back.

But they moved with a will of their own, hungry and insistent.

That night, you refused to feed on the second rat they brought.

By morning, patches had appeared on your skin—small areas of tissue beginning to die.

By afternoon, the pain was excruciating.

"Fascinating," Dr. Lindstrom noted, examining the necrotic tissue on your arm.

"The absorption ability appears to be directly tied to 437's immunity. Without regular feeding, 437's own cells begin to deteriorate."

"Please," you begged alone in your cell "I don't want to hurt anything."

"You don't have a choice anymore," she replied, her voice coldly clinical over the mic into your cell. "Feed or your body will consume itself."

By the fifth rat, you no longer hesitate.

Thor slams a hand onto the holo-console. “This Midgardian tower was supposed to be safe!”

Bruce barely glances up from the screen.

He’s gone still and clinical—retreating into logic after months of searching.

“There was a power fluctuation at 2:13am in the east lower wing.” He zooms in. “Small. Almost unnoticeable. The night she disappeared.”

Thor’s fingers twitch at his side. “She is not combat-trained. A child in height. She speaks softly. She brings me the good food.”

Bruce sighs through his nose. “Exactly the kind of person an infiltrator wouldn’t see as a threat. Or… would want to use as leverage.”

They both look at the screen.

“She brought me banana bread once,” Bruce whispers.

Thor’s hand tightens into a fist.

"437 is progressing well," Collins tells Lindstrom, watching you through the observation window. You're huddled in the corner of your cell, knees drawn to your chest, eyes tracking their movements.

"Her absorption abilities are developing faster than anticipated," Lindstrom agrees.

"But her mind is still resisting full conversion."

"I need results, Doctor," Collins presses, tapping his finger against the glass. "The higher-ups are getting impatient."

"These things take time," Lindstrom counters. "She's still holding onto fragments of her former life. The memory wipes are less effective than they were with the Winter Soldier."

"Then increase the voltage."

"We could lose cognitive function entirely. She'd be useless."

You've stopped remmebering your name. Now you're just "437" or sometimes "Subject."

The chair sessions have become more aggressive.

Sometimes you wake up with no memory of the previous day, just an emptiness where thoughts should be.

But the hunger—the hunger is always there.

They've moved on from rats to larger animals. Each time the tendrils emerge, they're stronger, more eager—stretching further from your hands, quicker to find their target.

You've learned that you don't need to touch your victims directly.

The black tendrils can bridge gaps, seek warmth like predators hunting prey.

The process is slower than Lindstrom expected—nearly an hour to drain a large animal completely.

She logs this data meticulously, adjusting formulas, recalibrating treatments.

"Why does it take so long?" Collins demands after one feeding session.

"Energy transfer isn't instantaneous," Lindstrom explains.

"Think of it as a slow transfusion rather than an electrical discharge. The longer the connection, the more complete the transfer."

What neither of them mentions is how you weep silently during each feeding.

How you try to sooth the animals as your body betrays you, the black tendrils extending despite your resistance.

How the patches of necrotic flesh appear on your arms, your chest, your back when you try to fight the hunger.

After each feeding, your strength returns briefly.

Colors seem sharper.

Sounds clearer.

For a few precious hours, the fog in your mind lifts slightly, and you remember fragments—Tony teaching you to fix the coffee machine after you'd broken it for the third time, Steve's steady hand on your shoulder after a rough day with the blue eyed man.

Eyes watching you across the kitchen.

Then the hunger returns, worse than before, and the cycle begins again.

Sunrise casts a warm, light across the tower.

Steve leans beside Bucky on the ledge. His expression is drawn, his fingers white-knuckled on the rail.

“She really meant something to you.”

Bucky hangs his head. “She’s just ... good.”

Steve’s brows pinch. “You sure that’s all she is?”

Bucky’s lips part—like he wants to argue. But the word never comes.

He looks out over the city. “She called me kind. Said I could be more than what they made me. Nobody’s had said that before her.”

Steve nods slowly. “Because they didn’t see you.”

Bucky glances down at his flesh hand, it had felt so empty since you'd gone.

“She did.”

Steve rests a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll find her.”

The final phase of serum treatments ends with a session so brutal you're certain it will kill you.

Your screams have long since given way to guttural, animal sounds as your body convulses on the medical table.

Black tendrils erupt and pulse uncontrollably from your hands, your arms, seeking something—anything—to feed on.

"Remarkable," Dr. Lindstrom observes from behind a protective barrier. "Full integration at the cellular level."

When the pain finally subsides, something fundamental has changed. The hunger is no longer separate from you—it is you.

Your first coherent thought is not of escape or of the man with the blue eyes. It's of feeding.

They bring you a prisoner—a failed Hydra agent who tried to escape. When he's shoved into your cell, you don't see a human being.

You see sustenance.

The tendrils flow from your hands like living shadows, wrapping around his throat, his chest, his face.

He struggles, then stills as you drain him dry.

It takes less than three minutes.

For the first time in months, you feel satiated.

"Perfect," Collins says, watching through the glass.

They don't teach you to fight with weapons or fists.

They teach you to hunt.

Your instructors maintain their distance, using shock batons to direct you, to punish or reward.

They've learned the hard way that getting too close is dangerous.

You move differently now—lower to the ground, fluid, predatory. The trainers praise this instinct, encourage it.

Sometimes you find yourself on all fours, scuttling across the training room floor, black tendrils trailing behind you like a shadow.

Speech comes less frequently. Words seem unnecessary, cumbersome.

The chair sessions continue, but with a new purpose. Now they're not erasing—they're building.

Creating someone new from the hollow shell they've made of you.

"You are Leech," they tell you, over and over, as electricity courses through your brain. "You feed. You serve Hydra. You have always been Leech."

And slowly, you begin to believe them.

The light in your room is softer than the rest of the tower. Pastel curtains. Your reading chair, your knit throw blanket. A mug still rests on the side table—lukewarm, half-finished tea with honey.

Bucky steps inside like it’s a sacred place and a sanctuary all at once.

He doesn’t touch anything at first. Just breathes in the air like maybe your scent will help him remember something more.

Something useful.

But it just makes his throat tighten.

Finally, he sits on the floor beside your bed, head resting back against the side, metal fingers tracing a groove in the floor.

“You kept tea in the third drawer,” he whispers. “I got you more Doll, I dont want you to miss anything when you come home.”

He closes his eyes.

“I was supposed to protect you, Doll.”

When he opened them again he saw the compact mirror, resting on your side table, his flesh fingers traced it like it might break.

"I'll find you Doll, I'll bring you home"

His voice cracks.

Not the Winter Soldier.

Not Sergeant Barnes.

Just Bucky.

The isolation chamber is dark and cold, designed to heighten Leech's senses before a mission. She hangs from the ceiling in the corner, suspended by the black tendrils which occasionally ripple across her skin.

Dr. Lindstrom observes through specialized goggles, making notes on her tablet. "Subject has fully integrated the Leech persona," she reports to Collins. "Speech patterns reduced to primitive third-person references. Locomotion primarily quadrupedal when not in hunting stance."

Collins nods, pleased. "And the absorption capacity?"

"Beyond our projections. She can drain a healthy adult male in under two minutes. The energy sustains her for approximately seventy-four hours before hunger response initiates."

"Side effects?"

Lindstrom hesitates. "Dependency is total. Without regular feeding, withdrawal symptoms begin within ninety-six hours. Tremors, hallucinations, eventually cellular degradation."

"Perfect," Collins says.

The lights in the isolation chamber flicker on. Leech hisses, covering her sensitive eyes.

Leech knows the pain that follows disobedience.

"Your training is complete," Collins says. "You have your first mission."

Leech tilts her head, curious. Missions mean feeding. Missions mean fresh prey.

Leech's tongue darts out, wetting cracked lips. "Leech... feed?"

"Prepare her for transport," Collins orders.

In the chamber, Leech drops silently to the floor, landing in a crouch.

Her movements are no longer human—fluid, predatory, patient.

The black tendrils around her hands pulse with anticipation.

Leech doesn't remember the kitchen anymore, or the music, or the gentle press of lips against her knuckles.

Leech doesn't remember her name.

Leech only knows hunger.

Leech only knows the hunt.

[staytinyweeniebeanie]

"Are You Blushing?" A SKZ Imagine

Pairing(s): bf!SKZ x reader

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship

Warning(s): 18+ (MDNI), tooth-rotting fluff, I’m talking MAJOR simp levels here (it’s mutual), explicit language, allusions to getting freaky, one (1) bulge mention.

Word Count: 2k

Summary: A snippet of how you fluster bf!SKZ 

A/N: This all started with a little thought about Felix and those damn freckles, but it quickly grew into this whole imagine! I hope you enjoy and let me know if any of these would make you blush~

 My masterlist 💕

Chan

~Is it hot in here, or is it just you?~

Barefaced, curly hair, and comfy clothes is your favorite version of Chan and you’re quick to let him know this fact. “You know if you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple Channie” you wink exaggeratedly and shuffle your laptop over when he cuddles up next to you on his bed for a movie night.

Chan shakes his head and chuckles, “What are you trying to butter me up for, babygirl?”. You bat your eyelashes and shrug, “Just stating facts my love, you’re so handsome I can’t help myself.” 

‘Time to kick things up a notch’ you think and pretend to fan your face “Is it hot in here? Or is it just you?”. You’re delighted by the red flush that’s steadily taking over Chan’s face as he giggles, and you rack your brain for another line that’s sure to make him squirm.

“If you look this good in these clothes, you must look even better out of them?” you whisper into his ear. The effect is exactly what you hoped for, Chan’s face is completely red now and he’s full on laughing which sends you into a laughing fit as well. “Baby where did you get all of these pick-up lines from?” Chans asks.

“That’s for me to know and for you to never find out, my love” you say and press your lips to his for a sweet kiss. Chan doesn’t miss the chance to deepen it, teeth nipping your bottom lip and tongue sweeping past to soothe the sting. He kisses you until you're breathless and then separates just enough to say, “Now, what movie should we watch?” 

Minho

~Hungry? I ordered your favorite~

‘It’s just been a rough day, Jagi’ 

‘I didn’t mean to snap over the phone earlier’

‘I’m sorry.’ 

You look up from the text thread you have with your boyfriend when you hear the door to the apartment close and the shuffling of keys and shoes. A minute later, an exhausted Minho slinks into the living room and stops in his tracks when he spots you standing there waiting for him. 

“Hey Min,” you start hesitantly, “I know today was rough, so I had Sungie let me in earlier so I could take care of you”. You rub the back of your neck sheepishly and continue, “It wasn’t much, I just folded some laundry and tidied up a bit.”

Minho just stares at you, unblinking as your nervous rambling continues. 

“Oh! And I picked up some dinner from that place you like around the corner! I wanted to make something, but you threatened to feed me to the cats the last time I tried to cook in your kitchen.” 

Feeling awkward with the continued silence on Minho’s end, you shuffle your feet and meet his eyes. You think you spy a sheen of wetness, but strong arms sweep you up into a crushing hug before you can double-check. You sigh in relief and squeeze back just as hard. 

The two of you stand there, wrapped up in the warm embrace for several minutes, until you feel every bit of tension leak from Minho’s frame and he strokes a hand through your hair. 

“Thank you, Jagi” he whispers and cups your face in his hands. His eyes are impossibly soft as they gaze at you and his cheeks are dusted with pink. “And you’re right, you’re not allowed to cook for me ever again.”

Changbin

~You look a little tense, want a massage?~ 

Changbin just got out of the shower after a morning gym session with Chan and you already have him pressed against the bathroom counter. Steam curls in the air around you and fogs the mirror a bit, but you can see the way his cheeks grow redder by the second as your hands snake their way up his sides and towards his chest. 

“L-Lovie, what are you doing?” Changbin stutters. You peek over his shoulder and watch your reflection as you squeeze his pecs, grinning when your dwaekki squeals. “I bet you’re sore, Binnie-baby, I wanna help you relax with a massage.” you purr into his red little ears. 

“I have been lifting heavier recently…” he murmurs. With a quick kiss to his hot cheek, you go back to your “massaging”. Changbin’s skin is still damp and slippery from the shower so your hands glide easily across his skin. You take your time, slowly kneading up his back while Changbin grunts and groans. You slip your hands around to his tummy and can’t resist grabbing and squeezing again. 

“Ah! What kind of massage is this?” Changbin whines loudly, but just as he’s opening his mouth to complain again, your sneaky fingers undo the towel that’s wrapped tightly around his waist and begin creeping south. 

“You don’t like it?” you pout and move as if you’re pulling away. Strong hands grab your wrists immediately as Changbin tugs your hands back to where they were, “Wait lovie, please! Keep going!” 

Hyunjin

~Can I do your makeup?~ 

Gentle music plays from your phone and the fairy lights strewn around your bedroom plus your favorite candle burning create an intimate and cozy atmosphere. You flutter around excitedly, gathering all the makeup items you need to give your boyfriend a makeover.

“I’m going to make you look like a fairy prince!” you chirp and climb into his lap, already reaching for a primer. “I don’t doubt it, my princess” Hyunjin smiles and rests his hands on your hips, eyes closing as he leans back against the headboard and enjoys your gentle touch. 

A comfortable silence follows, just the soft notes of your background music and the rustling of the sheets as you work your magic. You grab a colorful eyeshadow palette and grin, “Now for the exciting part! Look at me Hyunjinnie?” 

Hyunjin hums an affirmative and opens his eyes, making direct eye contact with you. This close, he can feel the soft puff of your breath on his lips, could count every eyelash as you concentrate on whatever you’re doing, and he feels his heart skip a beat. You’re just so pretty up close in this soft lighting, and the proximity plus your intense focus on him has his cheeks flushing. 

You take a moment to check your work but immediately throw your head back and laugh, “Hyunjin! I haven't even put any blush on you yet!”

Jisung

~How many licks does it take to get to the center?~

A crash can be heard from the other room, followed by a string of curses, then thundering footsteps rapidly draw closer. “Babycakes have you seen my-” Jisung trails off and his eyes widen as he takes in the scene in front of him. 

“Seen what, sweet cheeks?” You tilt your head and give him your best innocent look from where you’re sitting on the kitchen counter with your favorite flavor lollipop dangling from your mouth. You drag it out ever so slowly with a pop, then put it right back inside and swirl your tongue around the candy obscenely. You hum happily and admire your boyfriend’s dumbstruck expression.

Even from several feet away you can see the blush spread across his cheeks and a growing bulge in Jisung’s pants. ‘Hook, line, and sinker’ you smugly think to yourself, ‘The studio will have to wait.’

“Fuck babycakes, I don’t even remember what I was looking for,” Jisung groans and quickly makes his way over to you. In a blink his hands grip your thighs and he shoves himself between them. Big round eyes, half-lidded already, meet yours as he grabs the lollipop stick and tugs it free from your mouth. 

“Can I have a taste?”

Felix

~Did you know freckles are also called angel kisses?~

Shrieks and giggles echo around the apartment as you chase your boyfriend into the living room and tackle him onto the couch. “Just let me show you, Lixie!” 

“Never!” he cries and attempts to wiggle out from under you.

A short tickle fight ensues until, “Okay! Okay, I believe you, mercy please!” You grin triumphantly down at Felix and settle your weight on his hips to keep him pinned. Truthfully, he could get away if he wanted to, but you both know Felix loves when you manhandle him a bit.

“Stay still, I have to make sure I get every single freckle,” you say as you rain kisses across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, loud and obnoxious on purpose to make him giggle and draw that big toothy smile again. You move up to his forehead, followed by each eyelid gently, then the tip of his cute nose. Finally, you press your lips to his softly for a chaste peck once, twice, three times and his lips chase yours as you pull away.

“I think you got every one, angel,” Felix’s eyes shine with adoration as they look up into yours, his cheeks flushed the most beautiful shade of pink and his glossy black hair a mess on the cushions beneath him. 

But the longer you admire him, the more a devilish smirk starts to take over and he casts his gaze down his body slowly, “On my face at least. I think you might have missed a few down here though… Let’s check just to be sure.”

Seungmin

~Did you get my note?~

“How many of these did you hide in my room sweetheart?” Seungmin’s voice is muffled from where he’s digging through his closet. “This is the last one Minnie, maybe you should check the hoodie I left you?” you giggle and flip onto your stomach, stretching out across your hotel bed.

Sure enough, Seungmin pulls out a pink origami heart from the pocket. He comes back to his desk where his propped up phone displays your face, and rolls his eyes as he drops the note in front of you. “How can you be so annoying from so far away?” 

His grumpy act doesn’t last long, a small smile creeps onto his handsome face while deft fingers undo the heart. He reads the note slowly, then glances at you and reads it again. Your eyes are glued to the screen of your phone and you watch the prettiest pink blush spread across your boyfriend’s cheeks.

“All it takes is me confessing my undying love to make you blush, puppy?” you coo. “Shut it!” Seungmin groans and hides his face behind his hands. You can’t help but cackle at how shy your boyfriend gets when you’re being sappy. 

After a few moments Seungmin lowers his hands and reluctantly meets your eyes through the screen, “I love and miss you too, your flight leaves in the morning, right?”. 

“Yeah,” you sigh happily, “Can’t wait to see my puppy.”  

Jeongin

~Is that my shirt?~

Soft morning light filters through the curtains and as quietly as you can, you slip from the sleep-mussed sheets and look around for something to wear. You huff at the mess of yours and Jeongin’s clothes strewn around your room and just pull on the first shirt you see and some fresh panties. 

Jeongin is still snoozing away peacefully and you can’t help but take a moment to admire his fluffy hair and the marks you left on him after your wild night together. ‘A performance like that deserves a feast for breakfast’ you think to yourself.

You’ve only got the coffee started and the rice washed and in the rice cooker before your sleepy boyfriend shuffles into the kitchen. You turn away from the sink to find Jeongin, in just his sweatpants, frozen in place as he looks you up and down. Legs bare, hair messy, and he can make out the edge of his bite mark on your inner thigh where it’s peeking out from under the hem of his shirt.   

“Hey Honey-Bun, how’d you sleep- WHOA!” Jeongin has crossed the room and scooped you up into his arms before you can even finish. You scramble to wrap your legs around his waist as he quickly makes his way back to the bedroom. “What are you doing?!” you screech.

You’re tossed onto the bed and you stare wide-eyed as Jeongin’s flushed face and heated eyes come closer. “I think I’ll have breakfast in bed, baby…”  

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed my first SKZ fic, and happy birthday Yang Jeongin!

All writing content created here belongs to me (@staytinyweeniebeanie) and I do not consent to my work being reposted on other platforms without permission!

Reblogs and Comments are always welcome and highly appreciated!

Divider by @enchanthings

[brinasheqrt]

Supportive things

pairings - sabrina carpenter x masc!reader

warnings - none, light kissing only.

wc - 1.1k

You walk into the nail salon with her, hand tucked casually into your jacket pocket while Sabrina links her arm through yours like you’re her human security blanket. She’s dressed in this oversized sweater and tiny skirt combo that should be illegal, and you? You’re in cargos and a black tank, the sleeves of your hoodie half-pushed up your forearms. The contrast isn’t lost on anyone. Especially not the front desk girl who eyes the two of you like you’re an oddly attractive, confusingly fashionable couple. (She’s not wrong.)

“I have a 3PM with Yuna,” Sabrina tells her sweetly, and you don’t say a word, just nod and follow her to the little corner where her favorite tech always sets up.

As soon as she’s seated, she throws her purse in your lap. “Hold this, please,” she says, all innocent like she didn’t just hand you a glittery, gold-chained micro bag that couldn’t fit a phone if it tried.

“Do I look like your assistant?” you tease, flipping it open and closing it again just to mess with her.

“You look hot and obedient. Be both.”

You snort but settle into the chair next to hers, manspreading a little just to lean into the whole masc-girlfriend energy. It works. She peeks at you from the corner of her eye, smirking.

Yuna starts working on her cuticles and you zone out for a bit, letting the quiet buzz of the salon settle over you. You scroll through your phone, answer a couple texts, and glance up every few seconds just to watch the way Sabrina talks with her hands—even when they’re being buffed and shaped.

Twenty minutes in, she turns to you with the most dramatic sigh.

“Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to take pics of my nails when they’re done. Good ones. Like, Instagram-worthy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You mean, like, professional lighting and different angles?”

“Exactly. You’re my photographer now.” She grins. “You get paid in kisses.”

You pretend to think about it. “Hm. I’ll allow it.”

When the nail art starts, you get up and come closer, watching as Yuna paints tiny daisies onto Sabrina’s pale pink acrylics. She’s so focused, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth just slightly. You resist the urge to lean down and kiss her cheek.

Once they’re done, Sabrina holds her hands up in front of her face like she’s posing for a Vogue beauty shoot. “How cute are these?” she beams, turning her hands slowly. “Okay, camera ready?”

You already have your phone out, switching it to portrait mode. You guide her toward a part of the wall with better lighting, gently taking her wrists and posing her hands just right.

“Stop laughing,” you mumble when she giggles at how seriously you’re taking this. “You wanted good pictures.”

“You’re so hot when you’re bossy,” she whispers, smirking at you from beneath her lashes.

You cough. “Focus, Carpenter.”

You take like fifteen shots—some with flash, some without—making sure to get her rings in frame and the tiny daisy detail. Then you crouch down and get a few artsy angles from below because, well, you’re in this now.

When you show her the pics, she gasps. “Wait. These are actually amazing. You understood the assignment.”

You smirk, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “Told you I was worth the kisses.”

And she doesn’t even hesitate—grabs your hoodie, pulls you in, and presses a quick, soft kiss to your lips right there in the middle of the salon.

Yuna pretends not to see.

You definitely don’t pretend not to smile.

As you’re leaving, Sabrina’s scrolling through the pics, already adding them to her Instagram draft. You open the door for her, hand still on the small of her back.

She hums. “Caption ideas?”

You think for a second. “Something like… ‘flowers on my fingers, a simp behind the camera.’”

She nearly trips laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

She glances up at you, all soft and smug. “Yeah. I do.”

[notjustjavierpena]

The Making of Ellie - Part II: Tempers

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: They won’t leave me alone now. God help DILF!Joel. A follow-up to Baby-Making.

Summary: You're an expert in being difficult during your first pregnancy. Few things help.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel's POV, a bit of arguing, softdom!Joel is a simp and a bit of a brat tamer, pregnancy sex, rough sex, creampie, dirty talk, daddy kink if you squint.

Word count: 2.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051/chapters/124097539

Tempers

It turns out that pregnant you is a handful. Joel has been through it with Sarah’s mother, but he doesn’t quite remember that she was as difficult as you are turning out to be in your second trimester. You throw hissy fits, gag at the smell of his cologne, complain about him breathing too loud, make him go on snack patrols at two in the morning, cry at the sight of baby animals, yell at him until you cry for getting the wrong kind of Oreos, make him hold your hair as you throw up said Oreos.

Sarah sends him several grimaces behind your back, practically fleeing the house every time she has the opportunity to seek shelter at her boyfriend’s home to avoid the ticking bomb that you are. Joel is left with you alone, and he hates to admit it, but he absolutely loves it. 

For you, he’ll take the extra trip to the store even if you claim that he is the biggest asshole to have walked the earth. He’ll draw you baths, make dinner how you like it, kiss the top of your head as you puke, and buy you plastic flowers if the smell of real ones makes you nauseous. All this even if it has him confused, even if it bruises him a little. Your mood swings like the sixties and, luckily for you, he absolutely loves the sixties. 

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t you fucking sweetheart me,” you seethe whilst emptying the dishwasher with a good amount of difficulty due to your growing baby bump. Joel has offered to do it several times now, and the problem, why he is getting yelled at, seems to be that you are too stubborn to admit how much strain it is on your body to bend down after the plates. 

Joel stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the frame with his shoulder. He observes the way you have a hand on your belly as you crouch down. He weighs his words, “’m just saying that—“

“I can do it,” you say but it seems mostly to be directed at yourself. Joel doesn’t show but he finds your pouty face and attitude attractive. It’s cute and sexy at the same time when your non-threatening frame yells at him, but he also likes sleeping in his own bed so he won’t tell you.

You try a different position, go after the cutlery instead of the plates. One of the forks falls to the very bottom of the dishwasher, lying between the plate racks, and you let out a frustrated growl. 

Joel cannot help the laugh that comes out of his mouth. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Your voice breaks, tears coming out of nowhere, “Stop being mean.”

“I’m not. I’m just tryna let ya know I’m right here if ya need me to do it,” he continues, trying to hide the amusement on his face. 

You suck in a frustrated breath, then a deeper one to calm whatever emotional reaction is bubbling up inside your chest, and try one more time. You bend your knees, bump pressing into your thighs and the position puts a strain on your back. Quickly, you put a hand against the lower part of your spine, “Ow.”

Yes, he loves your stubborn attitude, your difficulty, your horrible temper tantrums. Right until now.

Joel straightens immediately at the sound of your painful discomfort. He is on you in mere seconds, not amused anymore, and with a frown on his face when he grabs your shoulders, “Right, that’s it. No more of that.”

“I can—“ 

He is the one to interrupt now, “Absolutely not.”

He guides you towards one of the chairs in the kitchen, sporting an expression of controlled anger. He knows that you value your independence, but seeing you hurt yourself, and therefore his child, in an attempt to maintain it simply won’t fly with him. 

“Sit,” his voice is stern.

Your lips are parted slightly at his command. You look doe-eyed, flushed red, and slightly shaken as you fall down into the dining chair. Joel leaves you there, not ready to have an argument with you about it, and goes to empty the stupid fucking dishwasher.

“Joel,” you squeak. 

“Not now,” he warns, “You’re fuckin’ infuriating.”

“Joel,” you try again, this time a little louder. 

“What?” He whips around, a plate in his hand that his fingers clutch harder at the sight of you; you are pressing your thighs together, breathing through your still-open mouth. You look flustered. Horny.

“Fuck me,” you plead shamelessly. You don’t try to get up. Joel feels pleased with that.

“Jesus, baby,” he tuts in disbelief.

“Please, please, please,” you continue and the tears in your eyes have only increased, holding onto the edges of your seat until your nails dig into the wood and he is sure the paint will come off the furniture.

Joel sets down the few plates in his hands on the kitchen counter. He crosses the room to stand in front of you, breath hitching in his throat as you look up at him through your lashes. Fuck, you are pretty.

“That what my baby needs?” He asks, tilting your head backward by putting a finger under your chin. He then gently cups your face, wipes a tear away with his thumb, and leans down to kiss your lips, “No hissy fits if I fuck ya? No need to run to the grocery store for cookie dough ice cream?”

“Can’t promise that, but not today at least,” you say softly, pushing out your bottom lip to make your irresistible angel face. Joel gives in so easily to you these days, knows that he’d probably do whatever unreasonable demand you asked of him today anyway — and every single day after. 

“You’re unbelievable, momma,” he chuckles, his frustrated anger having completely disappeared from his mind at how cute you are, “C’mere.”

He helps you to stand, “How you wanna do this?” 

You turn your back to him and lean down over the dining table, bump hanging out over the edge and your sensitive tits pressing into the surface. Every single drop of blood in his body rushes to his cock so fast that he feels dizzy, and whilst he is regaining his composure, you are already getting out of your comfortable bottoms and your panties. 

“Fuck, baby,” his stomach swirls at the sight of you. The top you have been wearing is crawling up over your belly as it is no longer held in place by your pants, the dimples on your back showing to him and he wants to press his thumbs into them as he has you right there.

You whine impatiently as you hear the sound of his zipper being pulled down, and it causes you to look back over your shoulder with a frown. He knows what is coming, “Get on with it then.”

“Christ, can’t even fuck you without you bein’ a pain in the ass,” he rolls his eyes and lets out a tch-sound, wants to smack your ass to shut you up. When did you become such a brat that is totally at the mercy of your hormones? He fucks you all the time. This is new. 

“Actually,” you begin and Joel sighs extra loudly at the word for dramatic effect, “There’s no fucking happening.”

“Yet,” he gives in to his urges and lets his palm connect with your ass, relishing in the lewd sound of skin being slapped. It makes you yelp, flesh jiggling as the blow vibrates through your extra pounds, “Think there’s a term called delayed gratification.”

“Just put it in, please, Joel,” you settle for begging instead. He’ll allow it. 

He doesn’t bother stepping out of his jeans, simply shoves his pants and boxers down to his knees. He grabs the swell of your hips, steps closer to the back of your thighs whilst simultaneously pulling you closer too, “Just lemme take care of my pregnant girl. Ain’t gotta be a battle all the time.”

He removes one hand from your hips to stroke himself a few times before teasing your slit, cockhead just dipping shallowly into you. He doesn’t push fully into you just yet despite his body screaming for your wet heat. It earns him a little noise, your head hanging between your shoulders and your legs shaking a little. 

“Do you understand?” He asks, sliding his dick between your damp folds and between your thighs to catch on your clit. You are obscenely wet, coating him in your natural slick as he presses between your legs. You start to rock your hips to feel any kind of friction against your cunt. He holds his cock steady for you to use, “Do you, baby?”

“Yes,” you whine with sensitivity, hips pressing back into him. He has noticed how quickly you come lately, but he isn’t going to give you that satisfaction right now unless he is balls deep inside of you, “Yes, I understand. Please.”

Joel is satisfied with that. He pulls back a little, and with his fist wrapped around his cock, he presses against your opening.

“You don’t have to do a thing, y’know. Just gotta grow my baby, and lemme do all the stupid shit ‘round the house,” he enters you in one go, pushing all the way to the back of your soft and pregnant cunt. You engulf him so easily with how soaked and warm you are, accepting his girth without hesitation. 

He lets go of the base of his cock when he is sheathed inside you and lets his hand come up around your waist to rub your swollen belly. He is gentle when he does that, resting a large palm under the roundness of it to keep the strain at a minimum. 

“That’s what I’m good for?” You egg him on, wanting a reaction; in this case getting fucked stupid, “Just lounging around and getting stuffed with cock?”

“Yeah, whenever you please, I might add,” he groans with you at the first snaps of his hips. He settles a rhythm. Fucks you hard, rushed, and desperately right there against the breakfast table until the vase of flowers on it nearly tumbles to the floor with how much the furniture shakes.

Nobody can blame him, he thinks as he pounds you until you are a crying mess. If anyone had had your delicious cunt for months with a stupid piece of rubber between you, they sure would lose control themselves when they had the chance to fuck you without it. The fact that he gets to as often as he does makes him the luckiest man alive.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you pant weakly, turning your head to rest your cheek against the surface. The hand on your hip slides up to rub between your shoulder blades, soothing you when he notices tears running down your nose.

“Shhh, I got ya, momma,” he reassures. He presses his other hand against your bump to angle your hips slightly and finally gets the opening to glide over your g-spot repeatedly. It makes you shout, eyes screwing shut whilst the sound of your crying reverberates through the tiny kitchen.

He knows your body so well, can sense that you are close after he’s started to reach so deep inside of you. Your moans grow louder, the pitch of them climbing higher with each of his thrusts and it’s downright filthy. He wants your voice to crack, and it so often does with how puffy and hot your cunt always is these days. You come so hard for him.

“Joel— I’m gonna come,” your breathing is so rapid, walls fluttering around his dick and tugging him closer to his own inevitable demise. There’s a moment where your stuttering whimpers come to a halt, breath caught in your throat for less than a second before you exhale sharply. 

The sensation of your cunt spasming around him pulls him in and nearly makes him unable to keep going. Your voice does indeed break, sweat breaks at the small of your back and you sob loudly as your pussy grips him hard enough to send him right to the edge.

“Come in me,” you mewl, can probably feel his cock pulse and grow inside of you. Your voice is weak, legs barely able to hold yourself up after your climax, “Please, Daddy.” 

The nickname has a direct line to his cock. He comes in the next moment, a loud moan slipping from his mouth at the first white rope that shoots out and coats you from the inside. He fucks into you through his orgasm, wet sounds becoming more obscene as his release mixes with your slick. 

Joel holds you steady as he pulls out of you, guiding you to sit down on the chair once more despite being naked on your lower half. He’ll clean up after you, leave the kitchen without evidence of your sinful actions. 

“Okay?” He asks after hurriedly tugging on his clothes again to tend to you. He rubs a hand over your belly, “Didn’t go too hard?”

“Stop fussing,” you say with the most blissed-out smile on your face. He appreciates that there is at least one way of dealing with your horrible temper, “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Wait here,” he orders but you don’t show signs of getting up from your seat anytime soon.

He leaves to get a flannel from the bathroom, soaks it in lukewarm water to not make it feel uncomfortable against your spent pussy. Though before approaching you again, he digs a hand into the back of the kitchen cabinet to fish out a little reward. 

“Oooh, gimme,” you perk up, making grabby hands as he holds out a Double Creme packet of Oreos. You tear the wrappings off, stuffing one into your mouth, and do a happy dance as he cleans you up.

“Was all you needed, huh?” He chuckles, knelt on the floor in front of you.

“Dick or Oreos?” You tease, chewing obnoxiously loud to irritate him. 

“Charmin’,” he shakes his head, “Are ya happy?”

“Happy wife, happy life,” you argue before stuffing another cookie into your mouth.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[chericherilvr]

cheri hi it’s me again 🥹 and this time can i kindly (and desperately) request something fluffy about seeun failing to cover his blush when you hold his hand? that silly cute image you mentioned in the tags and almost made me sob? it will heal something in me istg ❤️‍🩹

thank you soso much in advance and take your time!! 🫶🏼

to hope for love - seeun x reader

summary: three times bf!seeun simped for you on camera + one time he simped off camera w/c: 1,5k warnings: cursing, fluff, possible grammar mistakes of past/present tenses a/n: this was HEAVILY inspired by our convo, so I hope you enjoy it and that I delivered !! thank you so much for the ask loveee,, btw I am never writing something long in past tense again, I committed at the start and then I hated every second of it so I went to present mode by 3rd time (too much for someone who writes in first person most of the time too)

that one time on the main xikers' channel.

Being an idol and dating is hard. There's no other way to go around it. No way of sugar coating it. The lack of private time is hard on its own already—an to add a whole another person into the equation…

It doesn't stop them from trying tho.

Sometimes the easiest way around is by dating another idol. Others by going full incognito. And I am sure as hell one or two idols are in a weird e-dating discord daddy x kitten scheme—but that's for another day.

You and Seeun had your ways. And you both were just so lucky for the environment that he works in. The guys were supportive; especially Junmin, who set the two of you together. And Minjae that made sure you both could still be a couple with the company. They all tease you, joke around, (make Seeun do favours with a threat to tell the public) yet they all make sure to glare off at any noisy staff member, and even time when they go outside so you can come over to be just you two.

Luck doesn't hide the glances outside of frame tho. Just like how one time during "What's That boX?!"

"Grab the prettiest person and make them do a runway." Read Seeun, who immediately smirked.

Today you had come to their latest comeback MV's recording session. It was always amazing seeing them all work—especially Seeun. The behind the scenes world is just, breathtaking. All of it enchanted by cameras, impressive crew who made it all possible, and just the creative vision of so many people putting in their work—safe to say, your favourite part of the whole idol boyfriend gag.

Currently, you were watching the guys film their content. Enjoying the banter, the weird challenges. Someone just had to fish a blue duck out of a bowl? Forget about that, this, is the best part of the idol boyfriend ordeal. Then came Seeun, who read his prompt. And then he looked up and your eyes met.

You could see it in his eyes. They screamed so loud. Oh how he wanted to just reach behind the camera and just—pick you up and drag you with his over-confident smile "this is the prettiest person here!"

But he couldn't.

Instead he looked with a lovesick expression, walked over to where you were, and grabbed Yujun—who was waiting for his turn next to you.

(the shippers had a field day when Seeun winked at who they thought was Yujun… sorry to break their bubble)

//

the time a tiktok challenge almost got leaked

It took about seven tries to get it perfect. It was a hard choreography at the end of the day. But yet something looked off—so you tried again. The music sounds menacingly—almost hunting you down to ace it. And then it goes.

놀란 거야 혹시?

There's a time only a dancer knows: The time forward. A time in which, ironically to the song, you don't breathe. It's the first thing said as advice before going on stage "enjoy it, because this time the song will go by so quick you can barely process it." and it's always true.

In a blink of an eye you go from the fast-paced choreography to free-styling an outro to Sumin's rap. With a smile at the end, you stopped recording.

It is only after a couple days later you get to show Seeun the video at all.

"I got a surprise for you~" Your voice sung when you remembered the video. "Here, watch watch!!"

Seeun tilted his head when you shoved your phone at him. He looked at you and, at your enthusiastic nods, he clicked play. And then he was down from the second he recognized what was happening.

His eyes still sparkle to this day whenever he remembers. Not only was it the first time he had seen you dance—to an actual song instead of the random victory jiggles—but that was his song, his dance, you were dancing to. He re-watched that video like a million times before turning back to you.

"Baby you're crying!" Your eyes widened, hurrying to hold his face and wipe his tears off. "Did I do that bad?"

He shook his head hurriedly.

"You are just-I just. I… I love you so much"

"Scared me there for a second. I love you too baby."

"Do the challenge with me?"

And how could you say no to him? When he looked at you almost pleadingly.

Now Seeun lies on his bed, legs kicking as he was re-watching your video together—that ends with him giving you an unprompted kiss.

Ding.

He checks his phone.

"Hey hey hey hey hey hey hey!! SEEUN COME HEREEEEE!!! Manager is asking us for that video we took like a couple days ago, you have it?!?!?"

Seeun rolls his eyes at Yechan. How dare he stop his simping hours? He tries to dismiss him as fast as he can and just send the video.

"Now leave me alone"

Ding.

"AYYO I said our video! Not whatever this ew cute couple thing is. Now send me the video and 30€ or I post it on our socials!!"

//

that one time in a vlog

Seeun always liked filming the little vlogs. They were fun and easy—since he doesn't have to edit them. Sometimes they DID get in the way tho. Like today. Today it was meant to be a cute date. One of the first times you both went on a date outside at that. But then Hyunwoo got sick. And so he had to fill in for his turn in vlogging.

You both decided to just film some parts of the date. Maybe even push the "Seeun goes on a date with roady" kind of deal.

It worked like fire.

Seeun swears he has never been more himself like in this vlog. He constantly flirts with "the camera."

"Have I said you look beautiful today?"

And just chuckles at your blushing face—who is filming everything. He also likes to do something called "boyfriend check" which is just him at random doing something "boyfriend coded" He takes of his hoodie when it's a bit chill and gives it to roady—although the hoodie never comes back. He reaches behind the camera and does an obnoxious kissing sound—although his gaze changes and his lips look ever so slightly shinier.

"So babe," he calls to you looking dead centre at the camera. "When are you going to flirt back? I am starting to feel a one-sided relationship over here." Seeun awaits for an answer, just like he has each time he speaks to the vlog. But this time it feels different. His eyes look up at yours for a split of a second, as if challenging you. As if daring you to say something, to do something while the camera is rolling.

You don't take the bait. Instead you go and grab his hand, interviewing your fingers together. Seeun's eyes widen, as if you had told him right and there you were an alien. He tries to catch his composure and ends up looking to the side. The camera catches his ears redden.

"Thought you said I should be more bold?" You tease him.

"I-I said roady should be more bold!" He defends himself. "You are a danger already as you are, don't go around doing this."

"Or what?"

He covers the lenses with his other hand and kisses you.

//

that one time he re-watches your clips constantly

Now, while the "date with Roady" was a hit. Feeding into delusions, as well as fans joking about the poor staff member who had to suffer Seeun like that. His favourite clip never got posted. For the better in hindsight.

He constantly re-watches it all. The whole vlog, the cute challenges, the deleted footage. It's his favourite past-time, especially now, while he is on tour. He has memorized it all by now. As if it was a script he memorized the soft ways of your language. The way you both interact. The way you both love.

Now dating while being an idol is hard. It truly is. And, sometimes, it is not worth it. The other nine members can't help but worry about Seeun a lot. But it's in times like this that Seeun is the most himself. They see the way he smiles. The way his whole body language changes. They see it in the way they know when he's talking or watching you. It is at times like this that they hold onto hope. They hope no one will break it. They hope the best for the both of you. Sometimes even dreaming for a love so pure it can brake though the impossible. They hope for love.

[minihotdog]

Schoolboy Crush

Part 1 / Part 2

Pairing: Ghost x fem!reader

Summary: Ghost is simping hard for the reader!

a/n: I don't know if this will be a two-part series because I'm terrified I'll lose the idea I have for it. Also, I imagine him wearing the same tank top from @felrija's drawing (That I love so much more than anything)

C/W: inappropriate thoughts

Word Count: 406

***

His stomach suddenly twisted in fear. The wave of emotion took him away from what was supposed to be a happy moment as he came to the realization:

She’d taken over his mind and he’d let it happen without a fight.

Every second of his was dedicated to thinking of her and everything that made her her.

Her beautiful toothy smile, her sparkling eyes, flowing hair framing her face, her contagious laughter that he dreaded hearing as it would almost cost him his bearing beneath the mask.

He so badly craved her touch. Even when he was occupied with work his mind would wander to her and when he would see her again.

When he was left to his own devices his imagination would get the better of him.

He’d imagine his hands running over her body. Her skin like silk as he tries to concoct what each curve would feel like under his touch. In real time, his desire would pool inside him like a violent ocean leaving his own skin too hot to bare.

The moments they were actually together never felt long enough for him. Minutes or hours would pass in merely seconds and he’d be left craving her once more.

***

He lied with his back against the couch in Soap’s apartment lightly tapping the sharp tip of his combat knife while his mind raced.

A million words flying through it per second, questioning everything, doubting himself and what he felt. Overwhelming him to the point where his thoughts suddenly went blank. 

Silence.

The world being tuned out so he could listen closely to the inside of his mind. 

Was this love? Or just a schoolboy crush he’d let go too far?

He’d never made an attempt to let her know how he felt, just leaving it at occasional glances he’d steal of her. Little doses of her that he needed to go about his day.

He’d ask himself if he was afraid of being absorbed by her just to find out in the end that she didn’t feel the same.

“Oi! Ghost!” 

Ghost blinked slowly as he came back to reality hearing his comrade call his name.

“Whit are ye thinkin’ sae hard aboot?” Soap calls from the kitchen. “Folk are oan the wey an’ ye’r buckin’ holes in ma wa’!”

 “Soap, speak fucking english,” Ghost grumbles.

“Stop burnin’ holes in ma wall wit’ ye’r eyes and come an’ lend a hand!”

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (3/?)

Chapter summary: Wanda finds you again after months of estrangement.

Chapter word count: 5.5k

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Decided to post this early in celebration of Love & Death's final episode.

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next Chapter: Four

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta | @secretbackrooms | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r - let me know if I missed anyone

-

Three

At two in the morning, Wanda’s insomnia is at its worst.

Sleep doesn’t come despite doubling her usual dosage of sleeping pills, and she considers taking another, just so she can stop thinking about what Pietro said–about you moving on with someone new. Because despite her confidence in your love for her, her faith is waning with each passing day that you continue to leave her messages seen and her calls unanswered. 

She wonders how love–a resilient but tainted one–can survive in the dark. If it can survive at all. 

Wanda remembers reading somewhere on the internet that the human epidermis continually makes new cells every second, so that in just 30 days, one’s skin is entirely new. In months of being apart, it meant that there’s no longer an inch of her that has ever touched you. All that remains of her in you are memories. And what a fragile thing they are, when people are always forgetting. 

Wanda doesn’t want to be forgotten. Least of all by you.

She knows it’s within your rights to fall in love again, and she’s adamant for it to be with her. Her stubborn nature makes her cling to your wedding vow: that if you don’t end up with her, then you end up with no one. Maybe she’s delirious to still believe that you’d fulfill those promises, especially with how hard it is to reconcile those promises with dead silence.

Nevertheless, Wanda tries. She continues to send you mundane messages like a restaurant discovery or what she had for lunch, or a comment on the weather, telling you how nice it’d be to go outside for a walk. 

Tonight, she sends you a text about Sparky’s visit to the vet, hoping it provokes a reaction from you. It immediately gets read. Wanda’s breath hitches when she sees three dots appear right after her message. However, they soon disappear, leaving Wanda to stare at another unanswered text.

Tomorrow, then. And if not, the day after. Wanda won’t let you forget about her.

-

Agatha helps her with the finishing touches on her café, which happens to be unsold paintings donated by her colleagues from the gallery itself that Agatha manages. She’s informed Wanda that she’s considering early retirement to find something else to do, and when Wanda mentioned that she’s opening up a business, Agatha suggested she’d volunteer to help out on weekends in exchange for free coffee and dessert any day of the week. Wanda didn’t think twice to accept the proposal, and they shook on it.

“You have an eye for design, Wanda. You can make a career out of it once your cafe takes off and can hire someone to manage instead of doing it all by yourself.” Agatha says, dusting the final frame they hanged on the wall.

“Thanks. It’s just not me though. I had a lot of help from friends in NYU.” Wanda says, going behind the counter to make sure everything’s set for the big day, two days from now.

“Are you worried about the opening?” Agatha asks.

“A bit, yes.” Wanda admits with a sigh.

“Don’t be. Your pastries alone will keep this adorable thing afloat.” Agatha assures her, admiring the aforementioned pastries currently cooking in the oven.

Wanda smiles graciously, a little unsure if she’d take it as a compliment. With her former boss, it’s hard to tell sometimes. Agatha has the tendency to toe the line between maternal and condescending.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Pietro, who Wanda didn’t notice entering the shop just now, chimes in. Her brother taps Agatha on the shoulder, making the older woman turn her head in an unnecessarily coquettish manner. Wanda lifts an eyebrow as she observes the two.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Pietro says, before running a hand through his hair and letting his textured, angular fringe fall dramatically back over his bleached eyebrows. “I’m Pietro, Wanda’s twin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, dear. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Agatha says evenly with a smile, turning around to face him fully.

Pietro stands unnecessarily closer to her and says, “Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”

Wanda’s never heard Agatha giggle like a schoolgirl, and shoots him a murderous look. Her oblivious brother merely carries on staring at Agatha like he could see through her clothes. 

Squeezing into the narrow space between the two, she starts pushing her brother away from his prey. She can already sense him scheming, and she’s not going to let him potentially ward off the free help she’s gonna get on weekends.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wanda hisses at him under her breath as soon as she’s positive Agatha’s no longer within earshot.

He raises his hands in front of him in defense. “I was being friendly.”

“No, you weren’t. You were literally eyefucking my ex-boss back there.”

Pietro shrugs. “Maybe she was eyefucking me.”

“I swear, you’re going to–”

“Excuse me?” Agatha interrupts, and they both whip their head towards her–Wanda with a stricken look, and Pietro with a cheshire grin. Agatha can’t help but think how they’re both very attractive.

She addresses Wanda first. “I’m sorry but I have to go. Call me if you need anything, sweetie.” 

“Thanks again, Agatha.” Wanda says.

And then she turns to Pietro and winks at him. “I’ll see you around, handsome.”

“Oh, you will.” Pietro answers in a sultry voice that has Wanda harshly digging her nails into his forearm.

He only reacts to the pain after Agatha stepped outside. “Ow! Let go of me!”

“She’s off limits you pig.” Wanda chastises, landing some weak strikes on his arm. 

“Fine!” Pietro throws his hands up in surrender.

Wanda lets him go with a triumphant smile. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought I’d see you on Monday.” she says.

“My friend invited me to this club tonight, and I want you to come with.” Pietro says. 

“I’m not really in the mood to party.”

“You really have changed since you’ve been married to Y/N.”

“Thanks.” Wanda says curtly, and it’s not even sarcastic. If there were changes about her that were of your influence, then they could only mean the good kind. Wanda has long ago learned that she likes herself best when she’s with you.

“Don’t you at least feel like celebrating this?” Pietro gestures at the tiny confines of the cafe. 

“My idea of celebration is just steaks and wine,” she replies, shrugging her shoulders. “Lots of wine.”

“Wands, you can’t keep punishing yourself. You deserve to have a good time once in a while.”

Wanda scoffs. “Punishing myself? Believe me, I haven’t started.”

“Wanda, come on,” Pietro pleads earnestly. “The thing is, I’m planning to bump into this real estate dude, and having my sister to make me look like a decent guy is going to help my chances in my investment pitch, okay?”

Wanda considers the new information. “Why didn’t you start with that in the first place?”

“Because I didn’t want to flat-out ask my heartbroken sister for help. Cause I know you’re… You’re half the person you used to be. You’re not whole, and here I am, needing your help when there’s nothing I can do to help you back.” 

It’s the most vulnerable she’s seen her brother, and it makes Wanda want to gather him in his arms and be children again. 

“Piet..”

Pietro assumes back a sturdy posture. “I’m sorry. I just need you. But if–”

“I’ll be there. Just text me where and what time you need me.” Wanda assures him. 

“I’ll owe you one, sis.”

“Try twenty.”

-

Pietro deserts her as soon as she serves her purpose, and he gets invited to the VIP floor of his prospective investor. Wanda doesn’t hold it against him, seeing how important this deal is to him. Besides, thirty minutes of blaring techno (it’s a crime to call it music, Wanda muses) and seizure-inducing lights are too much for Wanda to bear. She just happens to have four drinks in front of her (bought by different strangers), and there’s just no way she can let perfectly crafted Negronis go to waste. Really, she’s left with no choice but to stay and savor her prized cocktails. 

At least two men–and one woman–have taken up the courage to approach her by the bar, and Wanda only has to show them the ring she still wears on her left hand for them to leave her alone with a polite apology. 

On her own (and despite you being unaware of it) she wants the world to know she’s still yours.

Heaving a deep sigh, Wanda finishes her drink. One down, three to go. She’s already swimming in a pleasant buzz, and when her eyes drift to the center of the dance floor, she sees the last person she thought of seeing tonight.

It’s true what they say about experiencing everything around you slowing down to a stop when your life flashes through your eyes. It’s closest to how she’d describe seeing you in the flesh after a long stretch of only seeing you in her dreams. For a split second, she thinks she might be mistaken, but it’s definitely you when you start doing that dorky mannequin move that never fails to send her into fits of laughter. And that’s exactly what Wanda does; she half-laughs and half-sobs into her drink as you stiffly move your limbs, wearing a blissful smile of your own. 

You seem…okay. Happy, even. Against her will, a deep sense of insecurity settles heavily on her chest. 

And then, as if on cue, a blonde girl mirrors your dance moves, stepping into your space too close for Wanda’s liking. She looks much younger than you and Wanda are, and she recognizes the captivated look on her face. It’s the same look Wanda is giving you right now, the same look you used to give her everyday for more than ten years. Wanda helplessly watches you take her hand and spin her around goofily. And when the girl stops and loses her balance, she leans on your side for support. You let her, putting an arm around her shoulder as both of you continue to laugh at the silliness of it all.

Wanda feels her heart fall and crash into pieces. And the guilt of falling apart at seeing you happy like you deserve to be, comes to her in rolling waves.

She downs the rest of her drink–all three of them–and then weaves through the crowded club, bumping against sweaty bodies to find her way out.  

-

Wanda ends up waiting for you from across the street. She wraps her jacket tighter around her body and fights off the cold by blowing her breath into her hands and rubbing them together. It does little to keep her warm, but she’s too enthralled to see your face again to care. She couldn’t simply walk away and wait for another opportunity like this to come. 

Eventually–after nearly two hours of waiting–you come out of the building. You’re not accompanied by anyone, and you’re peering down at your phone. In the distance, she can clearly see how unfocused your movements are, which makes her wonder why you’re all by yourself.

She’s about to cross the empty street, when you unexpectedly look up and Wanda’s eyes lock with yours.

Her eyes glisten at the sight of you: somber eyes and flushed cheeks and the beginnings of a dazed smile at the corner of your lips. You were always a doe when there’s alcohol in your system, and Wanda could take advantage of that.

She could. But she won’t, even as you seem transfixed as she is.

Wanda tests the waters by taking a small step in your direction. You don’t move an inch from where you’re standing, but Wanda still holds her breath with each step. She keeps her eyes trained on your figure in case this is a hallucination–in case this is all just a result of standing for hours in the cold. But you gaze back at her, equally awestruck, and she thinks perhaps you’re also figuring out the same thing: if all of this is real. 

Wanda takes another careful step while you shift your weight, working out the best way to keep your balance. And then another, until you’re within reach and she can hear your shallow breaths, can smell your scent mixed with your favorite perfume, can see your baby hairs sticking to your forehead. Until she can look into those eyes that always held kindness she doesn’t deserve. 

Until finally, she’s standing right in front of you.

It’s been too long, the words keep repeating itself in her head.   

Without thinking, Wanda stretches out her arm to cup your face, but–despite your semi-drunken state–you backpedal on instinct. Dispirited, she drops her hand to her side and chews on her lower lip to stop it from trembling. You must have sensed her dismay, because you force a smile, before her name falls from your lips.

“Wanda.”

There's no doubt that you can break her if you want to just by saying her name. 

“Y/N,” she whispers your name back, greedily drinking you in an openly brazen manner. 

“H-Hi…”

“You… uh,” you fumble with your sentence, trying to come up with something to say, before settling on what you really just wanted to know. “What are you doing here?” 

Wanda actually considers lying, until she remembers that it’s what destroyed everything in the first place. 

“I was at the same bar and I saw you. I thought about going home, but I couldn’t leave knowing you were just there.” she says.

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply as you assess how you feel about your ex-wife waiting for you outside and possibly catching a cold in the process. Inclined to blame it on the alcohol later, you don’t think you hate the idea that she stood there for hours just to talk to you. It’s so disparate from the time when you two were together, and you were often the one to wait. 

But the truth is, it mostly just hurts. After all this time, it’s the same wound that just refuses to heal. Only now there’s more guilt on your part for ignoring her for months even though you know you shouldn’t feel bad for trying to move on the way you have to. 

“It’s good to see you.” Wanda says after a beat. “I’ve missed y–”

Suddenly, your head is filled with images going down on a stranger at the gym. You shake your head harshly in a feeble attempt to shake off the memory. 

Wanda is quick to assume that you don’t want to hear any semblance of how much she aches for you. 

“I don’t feel–” 

You feel violently sick, but you fail to say that out loud because the next second, you hear Wanda shriek in shock and you find yourself bent over your stomach, emptying its contents next to her stilettos. Wanda hovers above you as she gently pulls back your hair on one hand and rubs soothing circles on your back with the other. 

Your throat burns and you grimace as you stagger back on your feet. 

“Wanda, I’m so–” 

“Shhh… you need to sober up,” Wanda explains softly. You don’t know you’ve been leaning onto her for support until you saw her left hand wrapped tightly around your arm. 

Her left hand, that is anything but bare. 

“Why are you still wearing it?” The question abruptly falls out of your mouth, losing the ability to filter the thoughts that you would rather stay in your head if you weren’t in such an inebriated state. 

Wanda tenses up at the question, surprised that you still noticed. 

“You know why.” she mumbles, struggling to keep you upright. She doesn’t say more, just silently directs you to the pavement where you both sit next to each other.

“Your hair. It’s too brown.” you speak in a slow drawl, still having enough cognitive function to change the topic. Wanda grimaces at the comment, despising her new hairdo more than usual. 

For a while you and Wanda just sit there, basking in awkward silence. 

“I need to call an Uber but my phone is dead.” you whisper into your knees, talking to no one in particular. You look and sound so small, so far from when you were dancing earlier. Wanda tries not to think that maybe she’s the reason for it. She worries at her lip, contemplating if she should call a ride for you. But with your current state, she’d be on the edge all night wondering if you got home safe. And knowing you probably won’t update her, she’s probably going to lose her mind over it.

Rising to her feet, Wanda makes a decision and offers a hand for you to take. 

“Hey. I’ve got an idea.” 

-

Wanda watches you dip a fry into a plain sundae and pop it into your mouth. Her cheeks redden a little when you moan in appreciation, eyes closed as if you were sampling a gourmet dish. She’d never understand your weird taste for putting together two of the things that should never be put together.

“Feel better?” she asks, disinterestedly picking at her nuggets. 

“Much.” you say, licking your thumb with gusto. At this point, Wanda makes the right decision to look away before her thoughts become anything but innocent. You’re starting to recover from your intoxication, and she’s careful not to make you feel the slightest discomfort.

“How’s Sparky?” you ask all of a sudden, remembering Wanda’s text the other night about a visit to the vet. 

Wanda takes a sip of her coffee, then says, “Something about a low platelet count. They just prescribed him some meds. He’s doing better, I think.”

“That’s good to hear.” you say. 

Both of you fall back into another period of quiet.

Wanda’s head is sifting through the many topics that she had mentally filed in advance for this moment, but all she wants is to ask about you and your dance partner. The way she fell into you and the way you caught her with ease wasn’t at all friendly. The girl was obviously smitten, and Wanda can’t blame her. She can’t blame anyone but herself.

She peeks at you through her lashes, taking in your solemn expression as you suck on the plastic spoon.

Are you dating her? 

Have you already slept together?

Has she been replaced?

Instead, Wanda says, “He misses you though”, because she couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing. 

“I miss him too.” you say, and Wanda detects a hint of softness in your tone for the first time tonight.

It’s pathetic how she’s internally begging for you to say the same thing about her. 

(How she’s envious of her own dog for it.)

“You should see him some time.” Wanda says, and at the skeptical look in your eye, she adds, “I don’t mean you visit him at my place. I can bring him to you. Maybe he can stay at yours for a weekend.” 

You nod like you understand what she’s trying to do– what information she’s trying to get out of you. She expects you to dismiss the idea, but you surprise her by saying, “That can be arranged.”

“Great! We’ll–”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Right.”

The stillness and lack of words return for the third time. Not that Wanda is counting. But it doesn’t last as long as the other two, when you surprise her again by offering her what’s left of your sundae. “Want some?”

Wanda smiles at the gesture and scoops some with her own spoon. She misses the little things, like sharing food and killing time in a place as mundane as Mcdonald’s. 

“Are you still using your old number?” Wanda asks, a subtle tremor in her voice. 

You wince, aware of what she’s actually asking. You let it slip that your old number is active when you asked about Sparky. 

“Not as much as my current one.”

“Oh, that explains it.”

Something about her reply rubs you off the wrong way.

“Explain what?”

Wanda is taken aback by your snippy tone. She used to be able to read you so easily, and now she can’t pinpoint exactly what set you off. 

“What I mean is,” Wanda starts as gently as she could. “I’ve been trying to reach you for months. And you weren’t entertaining any of my attempts to communicate.”

“Well. Imagine that.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Wanda asks, voice thick with unshed tears. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

You heave a sigh, and Wanda frowns at that. In such a short time, she’s managed to exasperate you without even trying. 

You pause to gather your thoughts, and then regard her with an apologetic look.

“Sorry…For being a bitch to you, not for avoiding you.” you say.

Wanda wipes a single tear that has escaped her eye with a finger. “You did say goodbye. I’m just too delusional to accept it.”

“You’re not.”

Wanda lets out a hollow chuckle in response.

“I’m delusional for thinking that I can erase you if I pretend long enough you don’t exist.” you say.

She knows it’s what you’ve been doing, but it still hurts for you to lay it out in the open.

“Did it work?” she asks, picking at the skin around her nail until it bleeds.

“No,” you answer truthfully. You don’t elaborate on it and give her the satisfaction of knowing that you’re still miserable without her. 

For Wanda, those two letters give her first, real taste of hope since the night you confronted her about Vision. She knows better than to jump at the earliest sign that things may start turning around, but she couldn’t help herself from speaking the words that are most important for you to hear.

“I love you,” she feels every syllable of them in her tongue, and she cries further when you shake your head.

“We can think we’re in love, when we’re really just in pain.” you say to her with a mournful smile. 

“I don’t believe that. Sometimes they go together, because it’s just how it is. Love’s supposed to hurt.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you. This is something we have to resolve individually, exclusive of each other.”

A look of resignation registers on Wanda’s face. It’s the most meaningful conversation you’ve had since separating, and she’ll willingly let go of the things you don’t want to discuss any further.

“What happens now?” she asks, placing the decision in your hands once again.

“I don’t know,” you say more with your shoulders than anything else. You steer the topic away from Wanda’s persevering feelings for you, and continue with, “I just want to enjoy this meal with… a friend.”

Wanda’s breath hitches at the apparent rejection. 

“You want us to be friends?”

“Honestly, I don’t know yet.”

“Friends....” Wanda trails off. It’s better than nothing, right? Being friends again is a good start. Friends fall in love all the time, don't they?

“I can do ‘friends’.” she says with newfound determination.

“I need to think about it.” you say because in spite of everything, you’re never one to make promises you can’t keep.

Wanda nods meekly. You stare at each other for a few moments, having reached an impasse, before Wanda remembers a major detail in her life she hasn’t shared with you over a text. 

“I have news. I’m opening a café in Queens on Monday. It’s, uh, where most of the alimony went.” 

Your face considerably brightens, as if the past several minutes didn’t happen at all. Wanda falls in love with you just a little harder at your organic reaction to her accomplishment.

“That’s amazing, Wanda. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” she says and blushes at the way you look so proud of her. 

“Wanda Maximoff, Cafe Owner.” you state her new title wistfully. “You make the best coffee though, so I’m not surprised by that…”

Wanda is no longer listening as a sense of déjà vu creeps underneath her skin, recalling how you had said something similar when she accepted a teaching position at Westview Institute.

Wanda Maximoff, Professor.

And when she got that job at the gallery.

Wanda Maximoff, Art Curator.

And after sharing your first kiss as wife and wife.

Wanda Maximoff, my wife.

Wanda comes to, just before you’re done speaking.

“…Is there anything you can’t do?” you say, good-naturedly.

Love you properly. Wanda broods over her regrets. 

She gathers all her verve, only to come up with a paper-thin smile. “You forget I’m a terrible dancer.”

You laugh. “Oh, yeah, that.”

“And I’m also terrible at self-control because,” Wanda admits before she loses the courage for what she’s about to say next. “Because I want to invite you to come to my opening.”

The laughter dies in your throat but the corner of your lips stay upturned.

“I haven’t even gotten my head around ‘friends’ yet.” you remind her softly. “But… I’ll make sure to drop by.”

Wanda exhales in relief. At least she knows when she’ll get to see you again.

“Now, about that Uber?” you say.

“I got it.”

-

Today’s forecast promised clear, blue skies–and yet, the feeling of dread wouldn’t leave Wanda.

She’s never been a fan of boats (and all sorts of transportation for bodies of water), but she couldn’t come up with any other meeting spot where she wouldn’t accidentally run into you. It’s ironic because for weeks, she’s scoured the places you’d normally be for a chance encounter.

Not this time. 

Not when she’s with this person.

Wanda boarded the ferry from Astoria, and it made a quick stop in Roosevelt where Vision was waiting to board the same vessel.

“Thanks for meeting me.” he says as he approaches Wanda who’s standing in the rear viewing deck. The amount of people onboard and the noises of the drafty wind should give them both enough privacy. Wanda doesn’t look up to acknowledge him. She merely continues to observe how the water churns and foams as the ferry picks up speed to leave its dock.

“Threatening to put Y/N in jail if I don’t, didn’t exactly leave me a choice.” Wanda says after a long time. 

“You didn’t leave me a choice either. It’s the only way you’d see me,” he argues, and not for the first time, Wanda sees him for what he really is; a mere school boy whom she dragged into her bed, and indirectly scarred for life. “Plus, you know I wouldn’t do that to her. Not because she doesn’t deserve it, but because I made a promise to you.”

Wanda finally forces herself to look at him. His appearance isn’t that of a healthy person. His gaunt cheeks clearly signifies how much weight he’s lost. There’s an ugly scar that runs from the left side of where his hairline starts, all the way down to his nape. And because of the wound, his previously vibrant blonde is all gone, leaving a dull, sandy color of a shaved head.

“What do you want, Vision?” Wanda whispers, feeling more sorry for him than anything. 

“You.” Vision states obviously. “I know you’re no longer married.”

“I told you it’s over,” Wanda says mutely. “Back when I was still married. Nothing has changed.”

“When this thing between us started, you knew the worst that could happen. You took the risk. That can’t be for nothing.” Vision’s impassioned plea makes her want to throw up. Wanda wants to deny each of his points, but she’d only be fooling herself. 

She did know that there’s a chance you’d discover the affair on your own, and yet she did it anyway. And that’s something she’ll never forgive herself for.

Wanda studies Vision for a moment. She can’t fathom how she ever made the mistake of using him to fill a gap that she couldn’t put a name to–a gap that is deeper and larger in the aftermath of her extramarital affair. 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for doing this to you. I’m the worst thing to happen to you and Y/N. I’m sorry for this,” Wanda allows herself to lightly trace the wound on his head as a gesture of sympathy. “Don’t blame her, please. I put her through unimaginable pain for her to have done this.”

Wanda allows him to remove her hand from his face and clasps them in his. It’s the one last thing she can do for him.

“You’re so beautiful.” Vision murmurs, trying to keep his emotions at bay. “I don’t mind having my skull smashed a thousand times if it means I could have you all over again.”

Wanda gasps and promptly backs away, effectively freeing her hand from Vision’s hold.

“Don’t say that. You could’ve died!” 

Vision smirks and Wanda sees a flash of arrogance he held when he was still her student.

“It’s not so different from what you’re doing to me right now.” he says, and Wanda resists the urge to purse her lips.

“You don’t want me, Vision. You’re young and you have so much to offer–”

“–so much potential, so much capable of great things. Yes, Wanda, I know because you made me see it. You believed in me when no one else would. You saved me from being… worthless.” Vision slides down to the deck, leaning against the railing. He groans in pain, massaging his temples, as if rubbing it hard enough would make all of his problems go away.

Wanda crouches beside him, and then says, “I didn’t save you. I used you. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Vision keeps his eyes closed in an effort to avoid the tears threatening to spill. “Are you… are you back together?”

“No.”

A flicker of hope flashes in his eyes. It glows brighter than the sun as he asks, “Did you ever love me?”

Wanda dares to meet his gaze, and there’s no hesitation in the way she says, “No.”

Vision swallows hard and firms his jaw; a showcase of blind resolution that Wanda doesn’t know how to extinguish. 

“I don’t believe you.”

Wanda says nothing. She merely stands up and puts more distance between them.

“You don’t fuck someone like you’ve fucked me and not have feelings.” Vision insists, clinging to the memories of intimately knowing the woman in front of him.

It’s then that Wanda loses her patience.

“You’re a kid,” Wanda snaps, her fingers tightening around the metal rod she’s holding onto. “People lie all the time: with their words, their actions, their bodies. You’re naive to assume you know anything just because you had the best fuck of your life.”

Vision is drawing heavy breaths the second she’s done speaking, as if the weight of Wanda’s words were enough to sink him to the bottom of the sea, desperate for air. Wanda, on the other hand, is equally shocked and simultaneously disgusted at her cruelty towards someone who’s begging for love–begging like she is for yours. What she did to you warranted a punishment that’s ten times greater than he had gotten, and yet you never spoke ill of her, never tried to hurt her as sharply as she did Vision. 

Vision–this charming, brilliant, handsome young man who didn’t do anything wrong but succumbed to his boyish desires. Who she just maimed with her words. 

The ferry arrives in Long Island. People start gathering their belongings before they head towards the exit. Wanda glances at her wristwatch. She’s late for her first staff session with Agatha. 

“Vis,” Wanda croaks. “I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t. I just can’t, okay? She’s everything to me.”

Vision is quiet, gazing at the sea with a faraway expression.

“It’s more than presumptuous of me to ask you this, but I’m going to ask anyway: forgive Y/N. Please don’t come after her for what happened. I’ll… I’ll pay for the damages.”

Vision lets out a humorless laugh, and then, without looking at her, says, “Just go, Ms. Maximoff.”

-

Monday

It’s nine-thirty in the evening, and Wanda ushers out the last of the customers to grace her opening day. 

You didn’t show up.

“Thank you so much, please come again!” she brightly exclaims with just a hint of tiredness from being all over the place for hours. It wasn’t a blockbuster where the lines would reach the next block, but it didn’t fall flat either. Her pastries were all sold out, and she hadn’t expected the need to place orders to her suppliers so soon.

For all that, as she flips the door sign from ‘Hi, We’re Open’ to ‘Sorry, We’re Closed’, the rush of today’s triumphs also leaves her. 

And then she sits alone in one of the barstools facing the window and patiently waits.

The gap widens some more.

[buckyalpine]

yknow the rule. every time bucket makes an appearance to wreck unnecessary havoc on the population, we need to see simp!bucky as financial compensation for the emotional damage done.

- gossip girl xoxo

Can’t keep his hands off you

18 + minors dni

LMAAOO whenever he gets out of his cage, we shove him back in there and avoid eye contact. Now back to our simpy baby, which he is 100% I didn’t plan on making it this long either, I was going to just write like 3 simple sentences and now look. Also I did two versions, subby and our sexy dom

What would ACTUALLY happen at a party is he would never leave your side. His arm is always around your waist and if someone gets to close, he’s pulling you to his side so they don’t try to come near you.

Doting on you the entire night.

“You want a drink baby?”

“Are you hungry”

There’s only so many places can sit; he takes a seat on the couch that’s full and you’re about to sit on the arm rest but no.

“Come here doll” he pulls you to sit on his lap, kissing and holding you. Both men and women alike are seething. You’ve gotten some dirty looks cause the handsome super soldier won’t even look at them twice. The guys are just as mad they can’t have you, esp not with bucky guarding you constantly.

(Taking this moment to give you 2 versions)

Subby bucky

You shift to adjust yourself on his lap, your eyes growing wide when you feel…

You turn to look at him and he’s engaged in a conversation with Steve sitting beside him but you definitely felt…

He grips your hips to keep you from moving, coming down to whisper in your ear.

“You gotta stop baby…”

You smirk at him shifting on his lap again and he lets out a whimper, hiding his face in your neck.

“Y/n, I can’t”

“Can’t what baby”

“M’so hard” his voice is a strained whisper, his cheeks are flushed. You get up and take his hand, leading him through the crowd to a closet. His eyes grow wide when you drop to your knees, his cock throbbing and leaking. He doesn’t last long, cumming within seconds, chanting your name when you palm and squeeze his balls while sucking he’s sensitive head.

He’s not leaving till he returns the favour. He drops to his knees, hitching your thigh on his shoulder. His face is buried in your pussy, moaning and whining at how wet you are. Tugging his cock while sucking your clit. And he’s addicted to you so even after you’ve reached your high, he’s still licking and sucking.

“Too much baby, so sensitive” you cry out but he doesn’t stop. He softens his tongue and lips, but he’s still gently suckling your sensitive nub, drinking up everything you have to give him and-

Dom bucky.

He grips your hips to keep you from squirming. You gasp when you feel it pressing into you harder, he adjusts himself, pushing himself right against your ass.

“You better stop baby” you bite your lip, teasingly grinding against him, his eyes darkening because you both know where this is going.

“So needy princess. You gonna be a good girl baby, take care of daddy?”

You nod and that’s all it takes, he has you over his shoulder, his wide frame easily making his way through the crowd. He doesn’t bother with a closet.

He finds an empty hall that anyone can walk through, it’s far enough it probably wouldn’t happen but there’s still a chance.

He has one had over your mouth while he rails you from behind,

“So. Fucking. Good” his teeth are gritted, cock throbbing, the sound of voices are approaching so you both have to finish quick. He knows your close, he can feel it. “T-together baby, cum with me y/n, fuck, cum, cum baby”

You let out a high pitched muffled whine while he empties himself into you, quickly tucking his cock in and shielding you with his body while some people walk by.

Your both a panting mess and that was hot but now he needs more, he scoops you in his arms to have his way with you all night.

Bonus

Seeing bucky toss you over his shoulder and carry you out is all they need to know, and bucky has the most smug cocky smirk hearing the team whistle and scream while you hide your face

“OKAY TERMINATOR”

“Put a baby super soldier in her”

“I think they have a breeding so that’s probably gonna happen”

“Why the hell do you know this”

“The sound proof walls are not as sound proof as you think”

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist​ @emmabarnes @bethyruth   @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen   @ashenc-blog   @buckybarnessimpp  @potatothots @goldylions   @high-functioning-lokipath  @morganemorganite-blog @peaches1958 @kingfleury @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82   @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @samfreakingwinchester

[odetojeons]

Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request:  Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

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“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing.  You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

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The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

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The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

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If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

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But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

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Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

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You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

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“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

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It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

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“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

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BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

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“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

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This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

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Wonwoo is… hot.

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There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

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And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

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You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

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His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

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You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

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You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

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Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

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You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

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“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

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There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

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“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

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“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

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Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

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“Answer me.”

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You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

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“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

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“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

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“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

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Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.

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And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

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“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

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There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

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“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

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“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

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“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

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Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

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“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

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Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

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“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

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“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

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“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

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The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

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“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

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Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

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“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

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Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

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“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

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“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

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“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

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“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

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This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

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“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

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“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

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You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

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“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

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“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

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“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

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“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

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“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

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Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

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“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

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But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

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“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

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There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

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“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

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You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

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But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

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So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

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“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

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And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

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“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

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You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

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You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

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“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

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“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

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“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

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“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

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Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

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The best intimidating possible.

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Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

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Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

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You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

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“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

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The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

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“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

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He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

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“Did I make myself clear?”

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“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

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Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[whiteqnn]

PURE [2] - Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

A/N:  443 notes?! THIS IS INSANE! Thank you guys so much for all the love under the first part of this, I was so shocked to see how many people enjoyed this story! I hope this one will be just as fun for you as the first one ^^

part 1

part 3 

part 4 

part 5

PURE [2]

Corpse stared at the red screen with the word IMPOSTOR written in the middle, his eyes widened, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“No way” he murmured into his microphone, no longer holding himself from breaking into laughter. “Do you guys see this? I wish I could see Y/N’s reaction.”

It took his audience just a second to respond, his chat being flooded with lots of comments about the said girl. 

“SHES SHOOK” he managed to read one from the hundreds of comments, once again bursting into laughter. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

He decided to follow Lily for a while to make himself less suspicious. He probably didn’t need to do that this time, since the others usually suspected him when he was innocent. Ironically, each time he was the impostor, they seemed completely blind to every murder he committed. 

They were both doing their tasks in O2 when the first body was reported. 

“Woah, Y/N is fast” he mumbled, before unmuting himself. 

“Okay,” Lily began speaking first “Corpse is 100% innocent, we were together this whole round, doing our tasks in O2. That’s all I have.”

“Yeah I saw you guys in there,” Felix said. “Where’s the body Sykkuno?”

“Um, so first of all I can also vouch for Dave and Y/N, we were hanging out all this time. So in the beginning, we were all in the upper engine, protecting each other like good friends that we are, and then we headed towards the medbay. And that’s where it gets interesting because I’m pretty sure I saw Poki leave medbay and run to the cafeteria.”

“You really think I would kill my best friend in the first round?”

“Yeah well, some people do” Sean scoffed, clearly referring to the last game when he was murdered by Felix. “Besides, I saw you guys when I was leaving Security so it looks like you were with her the entire round.”

“Wha- Okay, let me defend myself. I would never kill her if I was the impostor, which I’m not because she’d literally come barging into my room to murder me. She’d kill me for killing her first.”

Toast, who seemingly still held grudge against Corpse’s fellow impostor, decided to call Y/N out “Y’know, we all played with Rae before, so we all know how furious she gets after being killed first... but there’s one person who doesn’t know that.”

“Y/N/N?” Sean’s voice blared through their headphones “As much as I know how hard it would be for her to make the first kill, I can actually see that happening.”

“What?! Sykkuno vouched for me literally seconds ago, where the heck did you get that from Toast?” she asked in utter shock. Corpse glanced at his chat and leaned towards his mic, making sure that he was muted in the game.

“Y’know guys, if I didn’t know she’s the impostor, I’d believe in her every word. I mean, she’s so innocent, just listen to her.” he said with a smile, not expecting in the slightest how his audience will react. 

“Aww, he goes soft for her ^^” 

“The duo we need but don’t deserve”

“Y/N FOR THE BRIDE”

“What?” he almost stuttered, quickly going through the growing number of such comments. “I mean-”

“Ooh, someone’s getting angry. Where the heck? That’s aggressive, Y/N” Felix’s amused voice brought him back to reality, and even though Corpse didn’t use a webcam, he still tried to hide his pink-tinted cheeks in the material of his hoodie.

“It was not me! I swear! I was doing my tasks all this time, making sure that no one murders Sykkuno or Dave!” 

“You’re pretty defensive for someone who claims to be innocent,” Toast said with a smirk hiding in his voice. 

“Give her a break guys, she was literally with us all this time. I’m sure we would’ve noticed if she killed somebody” Dave stood up for her, but it seemed like all the attention was directed from Poki to Y/N. 

“Well maybe the other impostor is either you or Sykkuno and you’re just trying to clear each other?”

“Um, if there were two impostors among the three of us, the third person would have to be a crewmate. I mean, it would be impossible for them to kill somebody without a crewmate seeing it.” Sykkuno pointed out, much to Corpses’ relief. 

“I knew Sykkuno would vouch for her” he told his chat, before unmuting himself to defend Y/N as well “Haven’t we already established that Poki is sus as well? She was last seen near the body and has no alibi.” 

“I didn’t do it. The only person that could vouch for me is dead, we were with each other the entire round. I leave her for a few seconds and somebody kills her, but it wasn’t me.” 

“I don’t think she’s lying guys, I mean, if she killed Rae she’d probably be dead already” Felix chuckled “Let’s just skip this round, we don’t have enough evidence.”

“Alright, but Y/N,” Toast said, as everyone pressed the skip button “I have my eyes on you.”

Corpse could hear her sigh before everyone muted their mics. 

“We’ve gotta get rid of Toast guys, he’s too suspicious. I don’t want him accusing my partner in crime, even though he’s right” he chuckled under his breath, following Toast’s character into Admin. “Alright, Felix is with us as well, good. If I just pretend I’m doing card swipe, they’re gonna both vouch for me since everyone knows I’m great at this task.” he shook his head with a deep laugh escaping his throat. 

He could see the other two astronauts running around admin, before they both decided to leave, which gave Corpse a perfect opportunity to frame Toast. He killed the lights and chased his victim who, much to his joy, was now completely alone in comms. 

“Hi, Felix. Bye, Felix.” Corpse snapped his neck before speeding out of the room and venting into Navigation.

That’s when someone fixed the lights. And Corpse jumped out of the vent, only to come face to face with none other than Toast. 

“SHIT” he laughed in panic, seeing that he couldn’t use the kill function yet. “Shit, he must’ve seen me.”

And indeed, it took Toast just a split of second to run out of the room and speed towards the emergency button, Corpse hot on his tail, even though he knew he wouldn’t avoid getting ejected. 

“I’m busted guys, there’s no way they’re gonna believe me” he told his audience, watching as Toast’s character approached the button. However, Corpse wasn’t sure if he was just seeing things, but he thought that he saw an outline of another character appear out of nowhere just mere seconds before Toast called the meeting...

“YES” he almost screamed, at the same time laughing hysterically, when he saw the red cross decorating Toast’s name. 

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” Sean yelled, similarly to every other player that remained alive. “HOW DID THAT HAPPENED?!”

“Oh my God.”

“But- I don’t get it. What just happened?” Y/N’s soft voice sounded out, making Corpse laugh even more. 

“Someone killed Toast the moment he called the meeting.” Sykkuno explained, barely holding himself from laughing.

“Is that even possible?” she asked confused, her voice sounding so innocent and sweet that the other impostor couldn’t stop himself from grinning.

“Oh my god, she’s just- I can’t.” he chuckled deeply “She’s too precious guys, I swear I’m gonna do everything to keep her alive.”

“Yeah, that’s some big brain move. And since Toast is dead, there’s only one person with balls who could do it” Sean said, clearly very sure of his next words.

“CORPSE!” Lily chirped into her microphone, her voice soon being followed by others who eagerly agreed with her. 

“Okay, I admit I saw them in admin where I was doing the card swipe, but then they both left and I haven’t seen them anymore.”

“Were you in admin this whole time?” Poki asked. 

“Um- yeah, pretty much. I tried to beat my own record in failing a card swipe.” he replied, making everyone laugh. He thought of it as a good cover, unless someone entered the admin after he left... 

“Sykkuno where are you?” Poki directed her next question to the lime astronaut.

“Why am I accused again?” he asked confused “I was with Sean in medbay, I think Y/N joined us for a moment to do the scan, then she left, and then Toast called the meeting.”

“So maybe it’s her?” Dave commented “I mean, medbay is right next to the cafeteria, so she had quite an easy access to the emergency button.”

“Yeah, that would actually make sense” Lily added.

“Oh no, they’re gonna vote her off...” Corpse mumbled under his breath, deciding that he had to intervene. She just saved his ass, he couldn’t possibly just watch her get ejected because of that. 

“Guys, I didn’t even know it was possible to kill someone this way. Trust me, I played only a few times and Jack made sure not to reveal any of his big brain moves.” she scoffed at the last part, making Jack let out a loud laugh.

“How can we be sure you’re not just acting all innocent? I mean, you exposed Felix last game, being one of the last people to stay alive.”

“Y/N was with me when Toast called the meeting, she is innocent” Corpse decided to finally speak up. The silence settled among other players. “She found me in admin and made sure nobody killed me when I failed the fucking card swipe.”

“Why are you saying this just now, Corpse?”

“Cause he’s fallen for her god damn trap! I told you!” Sean argued.

“What trap?” Y/N asked confused.

“I mean, who wouldn’t? It’s like listening to an angel” Corpse said, before he could stop himself. Everyone on the call went wild, just like his chat did... He didn’t know why he said that, it just slipped before he really thought about it.

“Corpse, you do realize you’re simping only makes you even more suspicious?” Poki asked with a laugh, and Corpse felt the blush rising up his cheeks. Even more, when Y/N completely ignored this comment, deciding to suddenly stay quiet...

Did he make her uncomfortable with such comments?

“Seriously though, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t her. We watched each other’s back, so I’m also clean.” 

“As much as I hate to do it, I have to agree with Corpse on this one” Sean suddenly said. “That she’s innocent, I mean. I’m sure Corpse just follows her around like a lost puppy and I didn’t see the two of them, but I doubt Y/N knew it’s possible to kill somebody like that. No offense kiddo.”

“See? Guys, it wasn’t me!” she exclaimed. 

“Wait, why do you hate to agree with me?” Corpse asked in confusion.

“CAUSE YOU’RE KINDA SUS CORPSE” 

“What? I just told you my alibi, weren’t you listening Jack?”

“We have twenty seconds left” Lily reminded, cause everyone seemed to forget about the voting time. “We don’t skip at 7, right?”

“Alright, I’m voting Corpse, I still think he’s sus even though I agreed with him.” Sean announced, much to Y/N’s dismay. She quickly objected, trying to defend her fellow impostor:

“It’s NOT him, I watched him fail that dang card swipe!”

“DANG?! NO NEED TO BE SO OFFENSIVE YOUNG LADY” 

“I’m also voting Corpse, he must be one of them.” Lily agreed with Jack.

“Sykkuno, I hope you’re not doing what I think you’re doing” Y/N asked the lime astronaut, who was silent for the past few minutes.

“I um- I don’t know, they kinda have a point Y/N...”

“Sykkuno, listen to me.” she lowered her voice, trying to convince him “Corpse is not the impostor. You know you can trust me, right?”

“...”

“SYKKUNO GOD DAMN IT, DON’T LISTEN TO HER!”

“Sorry guys...”

Corpse burst out laughing, seeing that out of seven remaining players, five of them decided to skip. 

“She’s too good” he chuckled, quickly running up Y/N’s character when they started the next round. He circled her white astronaut, and she seemed to get his message because she eagerly followed him into Electrical to fake the tasks and wait for someone to show up. 

Soon enough two figures waltzed into the room, only to be simultaneously decapitated by the two impostors, who then swiftly vented into medbay and locked the door to their crime scene. 

“That was smooth” Corpse smiled, happily running around Y/N’s character. “I love being impostors with Y/N, it’s so much fun. The best thing is that no one besides Toast really suspects her of doing something wrong.”

Corpse figured Y/N sabotaged the oxygen because the next thing he saw was Lily running past medbay to stop it from depleting. 

“Ladies first, Y/N” he mumbled, and even though she couldn’t hear him, her small character sped up and left the medbay, chasing after Lily. He waited a few seconds, before bursting out laughing.

Victory. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sean yelled in shock “Y/N?! EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT NOW”

“Y/N HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

“That was... I would never guess it was you!” 

“I’m sorry guys, I really didn’t want to kill any of you” she laughed apologetically, but Corpse could sense she was smiling “I just had no other choice...”

“Yeah, I’m sure you killed us by accident” Toast’s voice blared out, followed by loud laughter.

“What was that again? I didn’t even know you could kill someone this way?” Felix mocked in a high pitched voice, making them laugh hysterically. Corpse also found himself unable to catch a breath between his giggles.

“I told you guys they’d fuck us up.” Rae spoke up “But I was actually glad Y/N killed me first, watching her kill Toast was so much fun.”

“Ha ha, thanks, Rae!” Toast exclaimed ironically.

“Y/N and Corpse are just complete serial killers, I don’t know how else to comment that” Felix chuckled. 

“Well...” Corpse mumbled, unmuting his microphone “I can’t disagree. She’s a perfect partner in crime.”

“NOT AGAIN WITH SIMPING CORPSE” he heard Sean’s response, and once again felt awkward when his all his friends laughed at him, and Y/N remained quiet. 

That was, however, until her soft voice effectively quietened everyone. 

“It was.. an honor to murder my friends with you.” 

Corpse never thought his face could hurt from smiling so much...

“Alright, who’s up for another game?” Felix asked after a few moments, and received a chorus of me’s from almost everyone. 

“Unfortunately I have to go now, but it was so fun playing with you guys!” Y/N said, making everyone (Corpse included) object rather loudly:

“One more round, please? I want to see you kill someone again!”

“C’mon kid, what else do you have to do?”

“Stay with us Y/N, I need someone to protect me!” 

“I’m sorry but I’m really tired. I’m sure I’d just fall asleep on my desk and Toast would come up behind my back to murder me.”

“Well, that was actually my plan...” the man in question replied with a chuckle.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay?” Corpse finally asked “Killing won’t be the same without you...”

“I know, and I’m sorry... But I was working the whole day and my eyes just hurt and I feel like I’m gonna faint” she replied. 

“Alright, but just so you know, we’re playing again later this week, and I better see you entering the lobby on time” Felix said, trying to sound threatening, but failing at it. Y/N giggled to herself, the sound making Corpse smile almost unknowingly. 

“I wouldn’t dare to miss a chance to murder my new friends!” 

“Oh my god, she’s too adorable!” 

Everyone said their goodbyes and soon Y/N left the call, her small astronaut disappearing from the lobby, much to Corpse’s disappointment. He wished she’d stay a little longer, playing with her was something he found incredibly fun and quite relaxing if he was completely honest. Or maybe aside from playing itself, listening to her voice was what kept bringing a smile to his face every time she spoke up. 

“Guys, I think I’m also gonna call it a day, it was really fun.”

“What? It’s not even been over an hour!” Rae protested. 

“Yeah, I um.. I know but-”

“Don’t push him guys, he can’t play without his partner in crime” Toast’s teasing voice made everyone burst out laughing, and Corpse just shook his head, glad that nobody could see how red his face became.

“Fuck you guys, okay?” he chuckled into the mic, before finally saying his goodbyes and leaving as well. He thanked his viewers for watching and promised to stay longer next time, before closing the discord. 

He sat for a moment in his chair, staring at the black screen, a smile slowly widening on his lips. It was one of the best games he had ever played in Among Us, and he couldn’t wait to be Impostor with Y/N again. 

“Perfect partner in crime... I’m such an idiot” he mumbled under his breath and felt himself blush, shaking his head at how awkward that must’ve sounded. He pulled his phone out and checked his Twitter, only for his eyes to widen once he saw the top trending hashtags. 

#Y/NxCorpse

#Y/NfortheBride

#PerfectPartnerInCrime

“Oh my God...” Corpse yelped, covering his eyes with his hand as if it would make all those tweets disappear. “Why am I the way I am?” 

He considered texting her, trying to maybe make things less awkward than they already were, but decided against it. He feared he’d make even more of an idiot out of himself... 

Convinced that all those comments about simping and now those hashtags made her uncomfortable, it didn’t even cross his mind that Y/N might be looking at them at the exact same moment, with adorable blush tinting her cheeks, and her lips turning into a small, shy smile...  

A/N: I think about writing 3rd part... 

[mizunetzu]

um can I please get hawks and dabi with a shy male s/o who wears oversized hoodies that stops at his fingertips and gets flustered when he gets kisses or when they call him pretty (pretty boy, pretty baby, etc) please? [i also binged you masterlist but that’s a story for another time-]

HAHA ANOTHER HAWKS/DABI REQUEST COMIN RIIIIIIIGHT UP

——————

Headcannons - Hawks and dabi with a soft n’ shy bf

⚠️ warnings - none

Pronouns - he/him

——————

Hawks:

Mans thinks ur

So

So so

Cute

Like BRUH YOU TURNED THIS MAN INTO YOUR NO. 1 SIMP

he may be the no. 2 hero but he’s ur no. 1 simp <3

Teases you On The Daily

Sometimes he’s poking at ur cheeks or using you as his armrest (ofc he’s hovering above the air a bit-this short mf-)

Other times he’s gushing about how cute you are just to see you get all flustered

Sometimes you share the oversized hoodies he buys you

He buys them like 2 times bigger than you normally wear them just to see you look all small n comfy n fluffy in them

Sometimes he borrows them bc hey they’re comfy

There’s times he doesn’t realize he’s making you blush so much

He calls you pretty boy, baby, (Y/n)-bird, pretty much every cheesy thing he can think of and your just sitting there like

>////< !!!

“How’s my pretty boy doing..., my baby, my little (Y/n)-bird, my sweet birdie~?”

“P-please stop...we’re i-in public...”

This leads me to: pda

HE LOVES PDA

ESPECIALLY BECAUSE HE KNOWS HOW FLUSTERED AND EMBARRASSED YOU GET FROM HOLDING HIS HAND AS THE NO. 2 HERO

COCKY COCK-A-DOODLE DOO BITCH

One time you two were at a restaurant

You two usually get a private area to eat, but this man felt ballsy and decided to host your date in complete public domain

You two were sitting smack in the middle of a fancy restaurant

Since you usually wear oversized hoodies, or anything pretty loose that hides the shape of your body, Keigo was in heaven seeing that cute fitted tuxedo with a cute bow tied neatly around your neck

It was like his personal present heehee

“You’re so cute, (Y/n)-chan.”

You deadass choked on your drink

“W-wh-wh-!”

you could barely get words out between sputters and coughs

“What? M’ I not allowed to love my sweet, cute, shy handsome, very very pretty boyfriend?”

Bitch said it loud enough for nearby people to hear

Hearing people start to whisper about you made you shrink up in your seat a bit

He thought it was cute how you tried to hide your face in your drink

The next day there were articles like “Pro Hero Hawk’s sexuality?!” Or “No. 2 hero Hawks - comformed lover?”

Smh Hawks, don’t cause celebrity drama

You’ll give (Y/n) a heart attack </3

——————

Dabi:

you kinda peeved him at first

HEAR ME OUT OK DONT LEAVE-

You came to the League around the same time Dabi and Toga came

It was because you were being bullied at your workplace for being “soft” and “girly”

You just wanted a place you could be you and not have to conform to society

Wow heavy much

Dabi didn’t think you had the heart to be a villain

You tripped on stones and would wince from the heat of the tiniest fire dabi could make

And you expect him to respect you?

Literally would scoff when you’re around

But one day

One day

He scoffed and brushed against your shoulder

You had enough

“H-he-hey-!”

Dabi was lowkey kinda shocked, he didn’t hear your voice much outside of a gasp or “uugu-!” from if you trip on some random shit

“C-can you stop?! Wh-what have I-I e-ever done to..to you..!”

You activated your quirk, and even if you don’t have the most threatening quirk, you were sure you would think of a way to use it in case things got physical

And you were kind of proud of yourself for standing up to him

Dabi just looked down/up at you

You were trembling, and you could barely keep up at hardened glare of yours when you were scared out of your mind

How could he take you seriously when you were so..

So...

Cute?

He felt sort of powerful when he saw how shaky your fingers were through your sleeves

Or how your hair framed your glaring face, trying to hide how scared you were

“Hm? Did Mr. Shy boy say something?”

In a minute he had you pinned up again the wall with your hands pinned aboved your head

He held your arms up with one hand and tilted your chin up with the other

“Or would you prefer it if I called you my pretty, cute, handsome boy? Don’t think that glare of yours could hide how you’re always staring at me when you think I don’t see...undressing me with your eyes...though that harsh glare that you’re trying so hard to do is kind of cute...”

He had you a blushing mess and averting your eyes in seconds

Mans felt so powerful

He had so much control over you and it made him feel great

He honestly didn’t think much of you till this second, but hey

He’s just doin what he wants, and that’s what he wanted to do right now

“How’s about it? Wanna be my pretty boy?”

You didn’t have the courage to answer, and thank god shigaraki and toga walked in that second

Dabi released your hands, not bothering to get your answer as your knees buckled and you sank to the floor

But no worries

He’d get his answer soon.

——————

[xxxsweetdreamzxxx]

warnings/tags: dom!wonho sub!reader, fluff, smut, fanfic; cursing, railing, unprotected sex, hook up, size kink, other types of filth

summary: your first encounter with your new nextdoor neighbor turns steamy

word count: 2k

===============================

Had this dream and decided that Wonho was a good fit to replace the rando my mind made up. Didn't require much editing, so this is straight from my messed up subconscious. Hope you enjoy!! ;>

and yes, I am a certified Wonho simp. (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)

===============================

You glanced up past the tops of the skyscrapers of Manhattan at the gray sky and sighed, pulling your coat tighter around you in the cool air. Seeing the older structure that was your apartment building in front of you, waves of relief washed through you. Getting excited to head inside and warm up a little, you thought: 'Another day of work over, time to relax.' But as you neared the entrance, you heard a voice behind you. 

"Goddamn." A man muttered under his breath. "What's your name?" He said a little louder so you could hear, his tone indicating obvious interest. 

Fighting back a sigh and without looking his way, you replied: "Sorry, I'm not interested."

Despite wanting to desperately go inside, you turned and headed back the way you came, thankful he didn't follow. You figured it wasn't a good idea for him to know where you lived. Once out of sight of your building, you decided it was probably safe to head back.

Approaching your building for the second time, you could see no one stood outside the building, so you entered. Heading up one flight of stairs onto the second floor, you made your way into the hallway and to the second door, reaching into your pocket for your keys. Unlocking your apartment door, you went in and closed the door behind you. 

Glancing around, you could see your bed in the corner, the small two-person couch against the opposite wall, and the kitchenette near the door that consisted of only a mini fridge and tiny stovetop. The wall furthest from the door had a window with it's curtains drawn to the sides, letting natural light in. A door along the wall with the couch lead to your bathroom. You didn't mind living in a one room apartment much, its location was amazing - and something you cared more about then the square footage. 

Setting your keys down on top of the mini fridge, you changed into some more comfortable shorts before moving towards the couch, reaching for the remote that was on the armrest as you sat down. Flipping on the TV situated across from you, you turned on the show you were watching last night before bed. Taking place in the 1920s or so, it was about some rich influential family and their daily lives. Of course, more drama filled than it would've been in reality. One of the younger couples in the family had been slowly growing closer, and you were just waiting for them to hook up. You secretly hoped today's episode would deliver. 

To your delight, it didn't take long for the episode to go where you wanted, with the couple locking themselves in a bedroom late at night and climbing onto their canopy bed. The girl's soft moans made you turn down the volume and pray to god that no one could hear anything through your thin apartment walls. It began to pour outside your window, thankfully drowning out some of the noises coming from your TV. You curled yourself up in a ball and watched the semi-pornographic scene play out, feeling satisfied in the direction the show was going.

You were so wrapped up in the show that it took a second for you to process that the sound you heard was a knock at your door. 

"Fuck." you hissed under your breath, scrambling to pause the show on a frame that wasn't too suspicious. 

You left the remote on the seat you'd been sitting on and hurried over to the door, which didn't have a peep hole so there was no way to see the person on the other side. 

"Yes?" You question through the door. 

A man's voice answered. "Sorry to bother you, but I forgot the key to my apartment nextdoor and got caught in the rain on the way back from work. I don't have anything out here to dry off with and my roommate doesn't get back until a few hours from now. Could I please borrow a towel?" 

He sounded familiar somehow, you felt like you'd heard his voice recently but couldn't place where. He did sound desperate...

You opened the door. The poor guy was drenched and shivering, and looked at you in embarrassment. His expression then seemed to turn to recognition of some kind. Even though the way he carried himself seemed sweet and innocent, he was tall and you could tell that under layers of winter clothing was nothing but muscle. Despite feeling a little uneasy being alone with such a large man, you beckoned him to come inside. 

You took in his appearance further as he hesitated a bit before doing so. His wet dark hair was plastered flat across his forehead, his equally dark eyes looked tired. His red cheeks and nose stood out against his pale skin, and you wondered how long he'd been out in the cold. Even in such a disheveled state, his perfect visuals made you feel flushed in the face. He was prettier than any man - no, person - you'd met before.

"I- I'm y/n by the way." You wanted to slap yourself for stuttering. "You can stay here until your roommate gets back, I'd hate for you to be standing in the hallway the whole time." 

"I'm Hoseok," The man replied, "and I can't thank you enough." He smiled gratefully at you, making your heart skip a beat. 

You averted your gaze to quickly duck into the bathroom, getting him a towel. You gave it to him and showed him where he could sit on your couch, the seat next to where you'd been sitting before.  You could notice he was still shivering after sitting down. 

"Would you like some hot tea to warm you up?" You asked. 

He gave you another grateful smile. "Yes." 

You headed over to the kitchenette to heat up some water, pulling out two mugs for your tea. You continued the conversation, talking about work, the weather, city life, etc. until before long you'd finished making the tea and headed back to the couch to keep talking, sitting down next to him. 

You learned he was a mailman of all things, and funnily enough he delivered mail to the building you both lived in. He'd moved in with his roommate only recently, an old friend from high school. You'd met the roommate a few times, out in the hallway and such. You had no idea a second person had moved in.

Then there was a pause in the conversation, and his eyes drifted over to the TV. He noticed that it was on, but paused. 

"What you watching?" He asked in a teasing tone. 

"Oh, ummm," you trailed off, "It's nothing."

"Can I see?" He teased further, a slight smirk on his lips. "Its nothing bad is it?" 

"No, I just forgot to turn it off." You say quickly. 

At that, you went to grab the remote where it lay, on the opposite side of you than he was. A bit surprised by your quick motions, he tried to reach over you to grab it and press play, curiosity overtaking him. Trying to reach that far caused him to lean over quite a bit, too much. Nearly collapsing on top of you, the weight of his body pushed you down onto the couch underneath him. You yelp in surprise. 

Completely engulfed in his shadow, you look up at him, who seems equally surprised by the awkward position he got you both into. He held himself up with his arms on either side of you, but didn't climb off. You can see blush across his cheeks, your own face feeling hot. Something in his previously sweet and tired eyes changes, and his eyes move down to your lips. 

The next thing you know, your lips are crashing against his, and he pulls you into an upright position, placing you on his lap. He runs his fingers through your hair; neither of you stopping to take a breath. You can feel your panties already starting to get damp, clinging to your clit. Moaning softly against his lips, you began to grind your hips against his, feeling a growing bulge underneath you. Seeing this as an invitation, he swiftly picks you up and starts moving you across the room in the direction of your bed. 

Without unlocking his lips from yours, he splayed you out across your bedsheets beneath him. The feeling of being trapped under him only makes you wetter. He begins to grind his hips in rhythm with yours, the fabric of your shorts and his pants brushing against each other. His hands begin to feel you up, finding every curve on your body through your clothes. He then takes them down to the waistband of your shorts, wasting no time in using it to pull them off, along with your panties. 

He then tugs impatiently at your shirt, and you help him to remove it before placing your hands on his belt, fumbling with the clasp. He tugs his shirt over his head before helping you to remove his belt and then his pants. You use your own hands to explore his abdomen, feeling his hard abs between your fingertips. He definitely worked out a ton.  

You then felt his erection brush against your inner thigh, more apparent through the much thinner fabric of his boxers. Although, you wanted to feel it without the boxers. Your hands drifted lower, letting him know to remove them. He did so without hesitation, groaning in satisfaction now that his cock was freed from any restrictive fabric. The pace of your kisses slowed down a little as he spread your legs a bit more, then teased your folds with his tip. The contact with your dripping pussy caused you to moan louder than before. 

He moved his lips onto your neck, marking you as you waited for his next move - which apparently was slamming into you hard like a truck. You sharply sucked in a breath and unintentionally clenched your walls around his dick, causing him to moan against your neck. Tears rolled down your cheeks, caused by momentary pain. Relaxing a bit, you tried your best to match your thrusts with his again. He pushed in forcefully until he was balls deep. He was so large, he filled you up completely. 

Seeing your sweat and tears, he looks into your eyes with slight concern and speaks for the first time in minutes. "You okay?" 

"Mhmhmm." Is all you can reply. In reality you were much better than okay. 

He presses his lips back onto yours before pulling out and ramming back into you aggressively several times, causing lewd noises to escape you both. Feeling his orgasm approaching he pulls out quickly,  leaving you a sweaty mess. Only seconds later hot strings of cum splash against your inner thighs, spilling onto the bedsheets. Squirming a little at the tenseness there, you begin to move your hand down but he pins it to the bed, making you whine. 

"So needy." He comments before using his own fingers to rub fast circles on your clit. 

You arch your back - somehow him doing that feels better than you could ever make it feel. It doesn't take long before a feeling near your tummy begins to build up, your hips grinding a little faster. Before you can remove your lips from his to warn him, you release onto his hand, your nerves relaxing as you ride out your orgasm beneath him. He pauses to lick you off of his fingers, causing you to blush. 

"Fuck, you taste so good." 

After finishing every last bit, he lies down next to you onto the bed, snuggling you up against him. All of the sudden it seems he's gone back to his sweet and innocent self, despite what just occurred. Your kisses become softer until you eventually stop, he wraps his arms around you, and you bury your head into his chest. After a while, he speaks out in a soft and quiet voice. 

"So, what was it you were watching?"

You smile bashfully. "It was a sex scene in a show I've been watching."

He chuckles and pulls you closer. "You're so cute y/n."

[yee-fxcking-haw]

Hi!! Could you possibly do a fic with Bakugo and Todoroki based on the lines from the song confident “she said it’s her first time” “I think she might’ve lied”

Where one of the boys are going on about their night with y/n and how it was their first time and the other says “I think she might’ve lied” and so on lol, thank you:)

I,,,, this ask,,,, I like it.

•She Might've Lied•

Summary: What the ask says lmao. Based off of the song Confident by Justin Bieber and Chance the Rapper. (College AU for legal reasons.)

Warnings: Oral (female receiving), mild overstim, multiple orgasms, mentions of a blowjob.

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Reader, mentions of Katsuki Bakugo x Reader (All aged up, 18+)

A/N: This turned into total fuckboy Todoroki but I am NOT mad about it, I simp aggressively. This is what my brain produced, I hope you like it! Thank you so much for such a fun request! I really enjoyed writing this.

Word Count: 1,428

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

   "Shoto- oh my God- fuck- fuck- fuck." You pant, back arching as you fist the sweat soaked sheets beneath you. 

   You shiver as he pulls you apart and works you over. Everything inside you feels so tight and hot and good. 

   The tip of his tongue zeroes in on your clit and your whole body jolts back, almost afraid of how incredible it feels. 

   "Fuck no." He growls before throwing an arm over your hips so he can keep you glued to the mattress. 

   He slides the other hand up the outside of your thigh before delivering a harsh slap to the meat of your hip. 

   Your head is thrown back as you whimper out his name, hands flying to his hair as your walls start to flutter. 

   He's not even using his damn fingers, he's ruining you with his tongue alone. 

   He drops his jaw and flicks his tongue against your swollen bud with fervent speed, your eyes cross and you cry out with little to no shame. 

   "There! Fuck! Right there, baby, you got it." You sob out, hips rocking as much as they can under his strong arm. 

   Everything builds and snaps at once. Ribbons of silky pleasure shoot up your spine and down your legs as your core clamps around nothing. 

   And he doesn't fucking stop. 

   He moves with urgency, with dedication. His hands grab under your knees before he pushes up to fold your legs to your chest. 

   "Hold these." He demands with his mouth still against your cunt. 

   "I cant- fuck! I can't…" You twitch as his tongue works relentlessly, body slowly but surely becoming overstimulated. 

   "You fuckin' better." He says, voice dropping to a bone chilling tone. He glares up at you, eyebrows knit together as sweat drips from the crown of his two toned hair. 

   "Holy shit." You sigh as you take your legs from him with a weak hold, prying yourself open for him. 

   "Atta girl." As soon as you have a hold of your legs, his hands are free to carry out his dirty work. 

   One comes up to play with your tits as the other slides down to join his mouth at your center. His long, skilled fingers slide in. They find that perfect spot instantly, rubbing at it as he pulls you closer and closer to the edge before you've even stopped cumming the first time. 

   "Sho! I'm gonna- oh my fucking god-" Your words turn into strangled cries as your whole body turns to mush. 

   You feel the tears fall, your cunt pulse, your vision blur and you just scream. Goosebumps are all over your skin as your toes curl and your whole body trembles. 

   He just licks and licks and licks. Slurping and savoring everything you give him. He's always so nasty with it, always so dedicated to reducing you to a sweaty, sobbing mess. 

   "That's it, that's my good girl." He pulls his mouth away only to mutter those sweet words. 

   His fingers still move slowly within you, working to help you ride the aftershocks of the mind numbing back to back orgasms he's just given you. 

   "You're always so messy." He muses, finally pulling his fingers out so he can run them between your folds and gather your release. 

   You watch with your jaw dropped, panting and overwhelmed. He brings the cream covered fingers to his mouth, tongue lolling out to make a show of tasting you before he closes his lips around them completely. 

   "You a dirty girl?" He asks after he pops his fingers out. He starts to crawl up your body, caging you with his arms. 

   You loathe the fact that he's still fully clothed, while you lay completely bare beneath him. 

   You just nod, eyes wide and mouth agape as he presses his lips between your breasts. 

   His eyes flick up to yours, eyes full of sin and depravity. 

   "Whose dirty girl?" He asks against your skin. 

   "Yours, I'm your dirty girl." You say with a weak, unreliable voice. 

   "That's fuckin' right." He kisses a trail up to your throat, under your jaw, and finally your lips. 

   "Don't forget that." He whispers before hopping up to his feet far too quickly. 

   He always does this, rips you apart then saunters away like it's nothing. 

   You two have been going at it for months now, a very tense friends with benefits relationship. More benefits than friends, though. You occasionally share a laugh, help each other with homework when you have time, but most of the time you just fuck. 

   "Where are you going?" You ask, still reeling as your nerves twitch and fire. 

   "Boys night, I'm late." He flips his hair a little before winking at you. 

   "Don't look so heartbroken, I'll be back later." He laughs as he pinches your cheek. 

   "I'm not heartbroken, fuck off." You smack his hand away, pulling a blanket around you before you roll off the bed and walk to the bathroom. 

   "Katsuki's coming over later, don't bother." You quip as you round the corner. 

   "Oh I forgot, he's a big fan of those sloppy seconds then, yeah?" 

   Bastard. A big part of your arrangement is the no strings attached part, meaning you can both fuck anyone else, as long as you let each other know about it. 

   Katsuki Bakugo had been trying to get into your pants for months. You'd finally gone down on him the other night during a movie, successfully blowing his mind.

   You'd told the poor fool you'd never sucked a dick before, just to make him feel special. His ego didn't need to boost, but he sure got off to the thought of being the first person to fuck your pretty little mouth. 

   "He's a big fan of a good fuck." You snap as you turn the shower on.

   Shoto comes up to lean against the door frame behind you, looking absolutely delicious in his joggers and his adidas shirt. 

   "You two have that in common then." He smiles wolfishly before slapping your ass. 

   "Make sure you wash the sheets before he comes, you made a pretty big mess." He calls out to you before strolling out of your dorm room. 

   You roll your eyes and huff as you drop the blanket and step into the shower.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

   "I'm not fucking lying, she was such a whore about it, but she said she'd never done it before." Bakugo explains to a laughing Kirishima and Denki. 

   "Who's a whore?" Shoto waltzes into the common room where the rest of the boys wait for him. 

   "That cute chick you're always studying with, apparently she's got a freaky side." Sero chuckles, only making Bakugo turn a brighter shade of red. 

   "Oh yeah?" Shoto raises his eyebrows, glancing at Bakugo. 

   "She's fucking insane, best blowjob I've ever had. Not that you would know what that's like, icey hot." Bakugo sneers, arms crossing as he reclines into his chair.

   "Dude, there's no way she was that good if she'd never done it before." Denki says, leaning forward as he shakes his head.

   "I'm serious you sparky asshole, she said it was her first time!" Bakugo snarls. 

   Shoto can't help the bark of the laugh that leaves him, he runs his hands through his hair, then notices just how wet his chin feels. 

   "I think she might've lied." He sighs as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand, pulling it away to see some of your slick shining on the skin. 

   "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bakugo grumbles, glaring at Shoto. 

   "You can tell dude, you've seen the way she walks into a room." He explains, so full of himself after spending the last half hour between your legs. 

   "What, did she fuck you too?" Bakugo stands up, chest puffed up as he strides towards Shouto. 

   "Nah." He sighs as sinks into one of the chairs, ignoring Bakugo's advances.

   "I fucked her." Shoto grins up at Bakugo, every jaw in the room drops before the rest of the boys start to hoot and laugh. 

   Kirishima jumps up to hold Bakugo back as he spews profanities at cocky Shouto. Sero and Denki are beside themselves, wheezing clapping as Shouto sits and enjoys the chaos he's created. 

   It's safe to say you won't be seeing Katsuki tonight, but you will be seeing a lot of Shoto.

[honey-coloured-passion]

Surprise! (Sapnap x Reader)

Request: “Sapnap X Reader where he surprises the reader while she’s streaming”

Words: 1.5k

“Hello chat how are your days going? Good, bad? Finals!? Oh my gosh I hate finals dude I’m so sorry f to pay respects,” you paused to stretch and adjust your headset as you had just started your stream. “I’m kinda just bored today chat so what should we do? Mods can you all run a poll or something?” You glanced at your discord and saw messages from Sap.

“Hey angel!”

“Oh you’re streaming!”

“You look cute on stream” 

You rolled your eyes but chat caught you blushing and saw that Sapnap was viewing the stream, and immediately lost it. They’d been shipping the two of you for months, but little did they know you guys had been dating for three months, since you met up in person for the first time. It hadn’t felt like the right time to announce to the world and you’d wanted to establish your relationship privately before telling the fans, but that didn’t mean you’d had a couple slip ups leading the fans to theorize. 

This included you calling Sapnap various forms of babe, bubs, Nick, love etc. Same went for Sap who gets teased for endlessly rushing to your defense on the SMP and responding casually when you call him a pet name, almost like he does it all the time... yeah, chat was on to the two of you. 

“Shut up guys and tell me what we’re doing today! We could go grind netherite tools and chill? How does that sound?” the SMP always got a resounding yes, and just like that you were off, the SMP had won the poll anyways. 

You messaged Sap in discord, “wanna call for the stream?” and quickly he was on the call with you. 

“Hello Mr. Sapitus Napitus, how’s your day going on this fine Friday?” you laughed as you ran through the nether, having just collected enough wool and planks to make beds. “It’s going, I was bored as heck so I wound up here, what about you?” You knew the longer end to that story, his family was out and he thought editing would take longer but now he was stuck at home. “Same same, I’m chillin and got bored after scrolling on Tiktok for like two hours so now I’m here!” You moved on, blowing up the nether hunting for netherite scrap while talking with chat.

A familiar notification went off, “water check from, um ,GogySupremacy420,000, oh my god what a username. Alright everyone drink some water! This is good I haven’t drank water since like breakfast.” you heard Sap pipe up, “you’ve eaten since breakfast right?” you rolled your eyes, “nope I’ll eat after stream don’t worry Simpnap” tacking on the nickname earned a scoff from the simp himself. “Not a simp,” he answered, giving you a punch in the game making you hit him back. After a mini fight ending in you threatening to place a bed and effectively kill the both of you, you were back to mining. 

“Hey I’ve gotta go drive and grab something want me to stay on call though?” your head whipped to discord to look for another message, knowing Sap didn’t have anywhere to be tonight. But there was nothing. “Oh I don’t mind, chat and I enjoy your company!” you said with a grin. You’d made it to enchanting now, having found all the netherite you needed.

As you sat on the spider spawner you heard Sap get in the car, the familiar beep of him unlocking his car and the revving of the engine making you laugh, “you’re car is literally so old I’m surprised it starts,” you heard Sapnap scoff, “old?! don’t you dare speak to her like that, she’s beautiful,” you rolled your eyes, Callahan who must’ve been on your stream quickly piped up in the game chat “Y/n is jealousss!” now it was your turn to be offended, “you think I’d be jealous of a bucket of rusty bolts and oil? No chance,” you laughed, checking chat as they were spamming JealousChamp. “Whatever you say ba- Y/n,” Sapnap played it off with a cough and you quickly changed the subject to how much XP you would need for all your tools. 

“Hey I’ve gotta go on deafen real quick be back soon!” Sap’s voice flooded your mic, he must’ve brough the mic close to his mouth because his smooth and deep voice curled around the mic perfectly, sending shivers down your spine as his warm tone filled your headphones. “B-bye” you choked out, pretending to adjust your headset as you continued killing mobs. “So chat, got any questions to pass this alone time?” you watched the chat speed up, hoping your mods would filter out poor questions. “Favorite. color? Easy who knows? Yup! You guys know me too well. Ooh favorite fast food place? This is hard cuz I don’t wanna say something you all don’t know but I can tell you guys my McDonalds order because it’s immaculate. Do I know Sapnap’s order? This is a good test you guys, I’m pretty sure it’s like an ungodly amount of spicy McChickens and a Dr. Pepper but I swear he changes it like every day.” you laughed, reading out other people’s orders then moved to debating if the icecream machine is actually broken or if the workers are just lazy. They’re lazy, confirmed by workers in chat apparently. 

“I’m back but I have to go in like five minutes, did you miss me?” Sap’s voice flooded your headphones again. As you adjusted his volume you teased, “hmm nope!” to which he began pouting making you laugh at his “baby rage”. Just as you were finishing with enchants on your axe he had to go. “Don’t miss me too much I’ll talk to you later, chat behave yourself I know you all will miss me but just leave y/n open in a muted tab,” he teased making you roll your eyes, “whatever we’re gonna have a super secret conversation after you’re gone about how we only let you on the stream out of pity right chat?” you couldn’t stop smiling and laughing through the teasing. “Okay okay, I actually gotta go, see you soon,” you bid Sapnap farewell and returned to joking with chat, turning on media share to pass some time as you reacted to animatics, hilarious compilations, and the occasional y/n x sapnap video making chat light up as you laughed through the videos. 

As you watched the videos and killed cave spiders you got a text from Sapnap. 

You still streaming?

Yup! Where’d you end up going? you replied.

Open your door and find out

Your breath hitched. “One- one minute chat,” you pulled your headset off and heard a small rustling in your hallway. As soon as you tabbed out of the game you stood up, rushing off camera to fling your door open and,

There he was. His smile was infectious and you couldn’t help yourself from screaming and running into his open arms. As he held you, rocking back and forth, you heard him mumbled. “I missed you”  Into your ear while you clung to him. “I missed you more,” you whispered back, Finally, you released him enough to peck his lips, unable to wipe the grin from your face. “I got food cuz you said you didn’t eat and I figured if I had time I wanted to spend it with you!” your heart practically melted, taking a bag of food in one hand and holding Sapnap’s hand with your other you realized you forgot to mute or end stream.

“Um, so I’m still streaming... what do we do?” you glanced up nervously but Sapnap just started laughing, “oh my god I guess I can say hi so chat doesn’t lose it’s mind,” you swallowed nervously, glancing down at your phone you had been tagged in endless clips of you running off camera then screaming about 15 seconds later. “Yeah better give them an answer,” you giggled.

Rushing back to your setup you saw chat blowing up as you put your headset back on. “Heyyy guys! So yeah, um I guess I can just show you that, we have a special guest!” You gestured to Sapnap to come into frame, pulling up a chair as he sat down next to you. “Yeah I gave y/n a visit cuz I was bored. Hi chat, hello, hello! You guys are going really fast dang,” Sapnap gripped your hand under the table, you squeezed back, leaning into his embrace. “So um, I think Sap and I are gonna hangout, right?” you glanced at him and he nodded, he really hadn’t stopped smiling since he got to your place.��“Yup! Maybe if there’s time we’ll go live again I’m not sure! Kinda spur of the moment yeah?” you finished your thought. Saying goodbye to chat you ended stream just a few minutes later.

“We’ve really gotta tell people soon, I wanna be able to hold your hand on camera not just off,” Sapnap said between bites of food. “Yeah, I think it’ll be okay right?” You had always been nervous about stans hating you or people trying to get in between your relationship. “As long as I’ve got you I’m more than fine, I’m- I don’t know I guess I’m pogchamp,” you shook your head, “god you are such a dork,” Sapnap scrunched his nose with a laugh, “I’m your dork though so I’m so special!” and you couldn’t agree more. <3