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#and not have her come back again to see her now they're both grown up.
norrisleclercf1 · 13 hours
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Stop Growing Up
Pairing: Dad!Lando Norris x Mom!Reader
Rating: PG
Words: 1.2K
Warnings: None
Mini Lando Series Masterlist / Previous: Just the Beginning
A/N: Surpriseeeeee haven't written for Aiden and Lando in a hot minute
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Tying his shoes, he couldn't help but stare at the pictures of his little boy. Little Aiden was growing up, and Lando had a hard time because his little boy wasn't so little anymore.
Staring at the pictures, he looked at the picture he had taken when you first saw your bump, the guys all over with you smiling brightly with a large bump, and then you holding Aiden. Lando moved, looking at the picture of him shirtless, exhausted, with tear-stained cheeks, and smiling brightly at the camera. 
Carlos was in the next frame holding his godson, with a little chili plushie that Aiden was biting. Of course, Adam and Cisca were there, his sisters and brother, and even Mila sat next to her cousin. Lando missed those days, the days when Aiden was so damn happy when he saw Lando and squealed, kicking his feet and unable to wait to be held by his father. 
Now Aiden just smiled, seeing his Dad, but Lando just guessed it had to be because he was now graduating high school and wasn't his father's little boy anymore. Sighing, Lando smiles as you walk into the bedroom, wearing an elegant but simple blue dress with sandals. Lando wore a pale blue button-up, black slacks, and dress shoes. His curls were no longer the vibrant color but lined with grey, and of course, he had grown out the beard again, chuckling when the kids made fun of him for it. 
"Lando, you okay?" You knew how hard this was for him. It was his baby boy, all grown up. Lando always cried when the kids hit life milestones; he just wanted them to stay little. "Should we have another baby?" Earring slipping out of your hand, you curse and turn, glaring at him, but he isn't joking. Instead, he is very serious. "Lando, no. You're hitting 40. We're not having another child. Isn't four enough?" You tease, but Lando shakes his head. 
"No, our firstborn is about to move to fucking Scotland. And now, our others are growing up too fast." Lando groans, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Lando, Aiden is 17, for the love of god. Caleb, Will, and Odette are 14, 12, and 9 years old. Stop acting like they're all suddenly turning 18 and moving out." You bristle. Lando turns, pouting until he hears Caleb and Daniel yelling. "I've got it." He stops you, gets up, and heads to Caleb's room. He sees them fighting over a pair of shoes. 
"They're mine, stupid!" "No, dingbat, they're mine!" Lando sighs, dropping the head and shaking it. "Hey, knock it off, or no going to the track with me this weekend." The boys stop fighting, knowing their father would be serious about his threat. "But, Daddddd," Caleb whines out the d, and Lando narrows his eyes. "Caleb, you're 14, don't whine. Will, whatever you started, apologize to your brother. And if you don't, so help me, god, I'll get Uncle Max involved." Will and Caleb swallow hard and nod their head. 
Stepping down the hall, he hears them mumble and apologizes. Knocking on the door, he hears a soft come-in; smiling, he sees the bouncy curls of his baby girl as she plays with her dolls. Lando couldn't be happier that she took after you; he had three mini-mes, and finally, he got a mini-you. "Baby, are you all ready?" Odette turns and gives him a big, toothy grin, and he has to stop himself from laughing. She recently lost both her big teeth, and every time she smiles sh, she loses every tooth but those. She was pleased when she got a big gift from the tooth fairy. 
"Yes, daddy. Aiden got me dressed." She stands wearing her favorite blue dress. It was a soft blue with little bows and sparkles everywhere. Uncle Max gave her a gift when he took her out for her birthday. "Okay, baby, you keep playing." Odette nods and sits back down, playing with her Barbies. Stepping out, he takes a deep breath, goes to the next room, and knocks, slowly pushing it open. Lando has to take a deep breath to stop the burning in his eyes as his baby boy stands in his cap and gown. Aiden fusses over his hair, and Lando chuckles, alerting his son to his presence. "Dad, I love having your hair, but at this moment, it fucking sucks," Aiden groans, and Lando lets the curse word slip for this moment. 
"Stop, you're going to pull your hair out," Lando slaps his son's hands, ruffling the curls, slowly putting the cap on, and smiling. "Better?" Aiden groans but nods, "It'll have to do," Lando steps back and can't help his eyes water. "Dad, don't cry." Aiden turns, facing his father, who shakes his head and wipes under his eyes, making a croaking sound as he clears his throat. "Just, you grew up so fast." Aiden sighed and hugged his father; he knew Lando would be the one to take this hard, "I love you," Aiden whispered; Lando made a strangled sound and hugged Aiden tighter before slapping his back.
"Alright, you're uncles, grandparents, and your mother are downstairs." Aiden nods and grabs his wallet and keys. Rushing down the hall, you hear Odette's door open. "Dottie, come on." Little patters of feet and heavy feet are heard as Lando strolls behind them. Stopping, he looks back into Aiden's room and takes a deep breath. Aiden took his first steps, saying dada for the first time; the sleepless nights of rocking him to sleep and comforting him over broken hearts were all in this room. Smiling, Lando closes the door and heads downstairs. 
"No! Uncle Carlos!" Aiden whines, Lando knew all too well that Carlos probably ruffled his curls, and he's proven right as Aiden dodges his hand and lightly slaps it away. "Eh, don't slap my hand, come here." Carlos glares, and Aiden dodges, moving faster than his Uncle. Carlos hisses as Charles and Max chuckle. Already, Odette was in Max's arms and giggling at whatever the grown-ups were laughing at. As the baby and only girl, Odette was spoiled by everyone in the family. Max was the one who spoiled her the most. Penelope giggles at Aiden, with Kelley fixing Odette's curls. Aiden talks with Penelope and still dodges Carlos's hand. 
Lando moves up beside you, talking to his parents, and Adam gives him a slight nod. Caleb and Will come running past. "Boys," Lando says, giving his tone a deeper drop. They stop running and sit next to Lorenzo, or Enzo, as he likes to be called Charles's oldest boy. Enzo extends his phone, and they start giggling, most defiantly watching old videos of the drivers when they are close to Aiden, Penelope, and Enzo's age. "You alright," He pulls his attention to you and nods. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay." Kissing the top of your head, he draws you in as Aiden throws himself down next to Penelope, and they start talking about Formula 3. 
Aiden was offered a seat but turned it down, preferring to work with the cars rather than drive them. That was proven when he got a full ride to a prestigious university for Mechanical Engineering and Aerodynamics. "He's still our son Lando, just...older." Lando smiles as he looks around the room, taking in his family, laughing, and having fun. Turning back to you, he smiles, his genuine smile of the day. "I know, just....he needs to stop growing up." You giggle and kiss under his jaw as he holds you in his arms. Lando sighs and kisses you again. Aiden was growing up, but he'd always be his first little boy. 
456 notes · View notes
enixamyram · 2 years
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I'm gonna be pissed if Talos' daughter never comes back into the MCU. And equally as pissed if her appearance doesn't involve her being or becoming good friends with Monica.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
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baby shoes
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words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?
rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.
“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”
you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.
“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.
“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.
“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”
rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.
you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.
--
look how cute this baby is rafey
“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”
“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.
“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.
you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”
“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.
“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”
“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.
“okay, true.” 
--
“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.
“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!” 
rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine. 
“what are you wearing?”
“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.
“why would you want that?” rafe questions.
“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”
rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.
“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.
-- 
“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.
“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.
“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.
“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.
“it can be.” rafe shrugs.
“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.
“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.
“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.
what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.
“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.
“you would?”
“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”
“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.
“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.
“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.
“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.
“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”
he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.
“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.
“tell me!” you complain again.
“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”
you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.
“i-i-” you stammer.
“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”
“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.
“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”
“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.
“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”
“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”
you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.
he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.
“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.
“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.
“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.
rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.
“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”
you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.
“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.
“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.
rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.
you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.
“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.
“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.
rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.
“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.
“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”
its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.
“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.
“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.
“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.
your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you. 
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.
--
“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.
“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room. 
“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.
“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.
“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.
“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.
“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”
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literaila · 1 month
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worth
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: the past comes back to haunt you, as it usually does.
warnings: angst, allusions to disassociation, hurt/comfort, mama is sad
last part | next part
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*
year five.
"wait for me," satoru tells megumi, as soon as he starts walking away. 
you're watching as megumi hangs his head, looking like he'd failed at his one objective--escaping--and turns around, glaring at satoru. 
you've all been out shopping for the past two hours. getting the kids new clothes, shoes, whatever else satoru swears they need... 
honestly, he's kind of cute running around like a maniac from store to store. showing tsumiki a cute dress she could wear, or teasing megumi into trying on a sweatshirt that matches his. 
it's quite possibly the only reason you haven't complained. 
or pointed out that both of the kids are on the verge of whining all the way home. or that he doesn't need to spend 100,000 yen to make them happy. 
"hurry up," megumi tells the man, basically growling at him. 
satoru grins and ruffles his hair, resting a hand on his back as the two of them begin to navigate through the crowd. mostly likely, neither of them knows where they're going. 
you're not even sure where a bathroom is in this district. 
"we'll wait here," you call out, nudging tsumiki. satoru turns briefly to give you a little peace sign, a little grin, and then he murmurs something to megumi you can't hear and they're both gone. 
you're a little worried about them being alone together in this state but you ignore it.
"guess it's just you and me, miki," you say to the little girl at your side. she beams up at you, nodding. "do you want to sit down? how do the shoes feel?" 
"mmm," she looks down, blinking at the sparkly shoes satoru insisted were perfect for her. "they're rubbing at my ankles a little." 
"we can get some new socks, too. that should help. c'mon, i think there's a bench over there." 
she grabs your hand as you begin towards the bench, humming something under her breath. 
you look down to smile at her and don't notice the person walking by, accidentally bumping into them. "oh, i'm sorry, excuse us--" you turn and your entire body lurches away from you. 
for a brief moment, you're not yourself. your conscious moves in an instant, ready to defend itself from everything, anything. you're not yourself, but someone else. someone you used to know very well. 
"i--" you breathe, freezing at the person in front of you. 
tsumiki pulls on your hand a little, confused when you stop suddenly. she looks to the woman standing in front of you, with a bizarre look on her face, and then tsumiki's brown eyes go back to you, her face riddled with curiosity. 
"y/n?"
i don't remember a lot about her but i remember hugging her when she got home from work, and the way she said my name-- 
you want to forget it all. 
it's clear now, several years later, that you would rather forget everything about her--about this woman standing in front of you, basically a reflection of yourself--than have to do this all over again. then have to face the memories of what she did to you. then put that child through any of it. 
"hi--hey," you say because you have to. 
here's the thing about seeing your mom for the first time in a decade: you can't just pretend you didn't. 
you'd like to turn right around and walk away. you'd like to pretend that you've grown sometime in the past nine years, that you've turned into someone who doesn't need to stay and talk to her. you'd like to think that you're someone who can cut her right out of your life and feel all of the better for it. 
but you're not. 
you can't run away from your mother. you can't apologize for bumping into her and turn around with tsumiki's hand in yours and forget about it. actually, you can't even move right now. 
because there's still this girl inside of you.
there's still this child, a teenager who tried so desperately to earn the approval of this woman and never got it. who tried so hard to be everything that this woman wanted, but could never try enough. 
and she's clinging to your chest right now, breathing into your skin like a toxin, digging her nails into your heart and begging you to try again. telling you that you've got another shot, a chance she couldn't have--
so you can't leave now. not when you owe it to her, to yourself to try, to trick yourself into believing that it was just a fault of your own, that your childhood memories are only the result of some flaws you've already fixed. 
you can't walk away when your mind is stuck on her, her, and--tsumiki. 
your broken eyes turn to her.
your little girl who is standing right beside you, waiting for your next move. if you told her to run, she would. if you told her to stay by your side and say nothing, to hide behind you, she would. she wouldn't even ask you what was going on. 
but for no reason at all, you can't tell tsumiki anything. you can't whisper to her that it's fine, that everything is fine. you can't introduce her or drag her away. 
you can't do anything and it's never felt worse. 
"i thought that was you," your mother says, tilting her head at you. she's staring like this is just a casual bump in. like you're colleagues who haven't seen each other since she went on vacation. "you look... grown." 
you feel naive. there's nothing you can say to this woman to prove to her that you're better than you were. that you're far too good for her.
"thanks," you whisper, even though you know it's not a compliment. it's an instinct to appeal to her. to be polite and perfect.
your mom clasps her hands together. if you were looking at her--which you're not, you wouldn't dare--you might be able to tell that she's uncomfortable with you being there. almost surprised. 
maybe she just assumed that you'd die as soon as you left the comfort of your childhood home. maybe she thought that they would've kicked you out of jujutsu high a day after you arrived, leaving you to starve on the street just like she did. 
"well, how are you?" 
you swallow. "i'm good." 
she nods, and then she looks to your side and finally notices tsumiki there. 
tsumiki, with her precious face, her beautiful brown eyes, and carefully organized hair. 
you're not sure what your mother sees when she looks at her.
you wish more than anything that you could hide her. you don't want your mom's--you don't want this woman's eyes on her. you don't want her to say a single word to your daughter. 
"and who's this?" 
but you can't just send her away. you have no idea where satoru went, and tsumiki can't walk around on her own. not right now, not when you're so preoccupied. 
you just can't walk away. 
tsumiki holds her hand out, just like you taught her. "i'm tsumiki fushiguro." 
"it's nice to meet you," your mother answers, shaking her hand warily like she's certain that she might get an infection from tsumiki's skin. and then she looks at you, not daring to ask what she wants to.
you clench your jaw, wanting to slap her hand away from tsumiki. 
you should've put up a barrier a minute ago. the only possible block between you and a woman who doesn't deserve the pleasure of meeting tsumiki. who deserves no explanations from you. 
but your cursed energy is frozen in place, and you know that if you shut yourself in, you'll never get back out. 
"my daughter," you add, a bit louder now. 
your mom's eyebrows raise immediately and she pauses, looking between the two of you, searching for some useless resemblance. like it isn't obvious that you share a bond, just from the way your hands are intertwined. like it's not obvious that you braided tsumiki's hair, or helped her pick out the shoes she's wearing. 
like it might not be true. 
still, she asks tsumiki, "how old are you?" 
"twelve." 
and you know where her mind goes immediately. thinking that it can't be possible. she knew you when you were twelve, and you certainly weren't pregnant with the little girl standing beside you. you certainly weren't developing any maternal skills locked away in your room, with only the curse that liked to hide in the walls to teach you.
it brings that resentment to the surface of your core, threatening to burst through your skin. you feel suddenly so angry you can't bear it. 
and you're not that girl anymore, you realize. you haven't been since you met nanami and haibara and satoru. 
since you learned that you were only a child and not a trophy that needed to live up to its name. 
"well," your mom sighs, shaking her head. "i can't say this is what i expected." 
"excuse me?" 
"really, what do you know about children, y/n? don't you think you're a little young?" 
tsumiki looks up at you with a frown, about to ask what she means when you stop her. 
you squeeze her hand and look away, into the eyes of the woman who created you--who has that string of biology she just judged you and tsumiki for lacking--and still didn't care. 
she is nothing if not the proof that dna means absolutely nothing. 
"what do you know about children, mom?" you repeat, rhetorically. "at least i know that a ten-year-old shouldn't spend every hour of the day locked in their room, waiting for someone to come let them out." 
"i'm shocked that you--" 
"at least i know that a child is a gift and not a toy to hide away when you get bored of it." 
your mom scoffs. "i can't believe this--"
"neither can i," you say and look to your daughter, who's got wide brown eyes and a confused sort of fear on her face. she doesn't need to hear anything else you have to say to this woman. you smile at her, soft as ever. "go look for dad, okay? he shouldn't be far." 
it's been five minutes, and satoru's probably right around the corner, you rationalize. he's going to come pick up tsumiki and rescue you any second now. 
tsumiki nods immediately, letting go of your hand. she turns to go do what you said, but before she can there's a strong hand on your shoulder, a body right beside yours, and you almost gasp in relief. 
"found him," tsumiki tells you, softly. 
you turn to satoru, wanting to beg him to carry you away from her, to get you away from her--but the words won't come. you're too struck by the view of his face, and the knowledge that when you finally escape from this, he's going to be right there. 
satoru was there the first time, and he'll linger for the second. 
his shaded eyes look back at you, observing for a second, reading your mind, and then he turns. 
megumi is trailing at his side, holding a shopping bag. he looks between this stranger and you, a cautious look on his face. 
tsumiki is telling him something without any words. 
"hello," satoru says, smoothly, breaking the silence. "i don't believe we've met. do you know y/n?" 
your mother frowns, scoffing. "i'm her mother." 
you can see it when satoru reels back, looking between the two of you for a moment, an intense realization on his face. 
maybe he can see the resemblance. the face that might be your own in just a few years. 
or maybe, finally, he can feel the horrors of being raised by her. all of the things you've never dared to tell him. 
you're pleading satoru for something with your eyes but you're not even sure what.
"there's another one?" your mom asks, almost disgusted, as satoru processes. "how old are you?" 
megumi frowns. he walks over to tsumiki, who's already picked up your hand, and asks you: "this is your mom?" 
you nod at him, relieved more than anything that he's there, with the rest of you. and that if you can't explain, satoru will handle it. 
megumi considers it for a second. "are you sure?" 
and you want to laugh so abruptly that it shocks you. you want to grab him by the face and kiss all across his cheeks. 
tsumiki is already smiling at you like she knows this. her grip is strong against yours.
satoru smiles at your mom, a vicious ugly thing. "did you need something from her?" 
"i--no, we just ran into each other," she tells him, seemingly confused by his entire presence. she looks at you. "who is he? another child of yours?" 
satoru licks his lips. "not quite." 
you're about to answer when he grabs your empty hand, shaking his head. "i don't think there's anything y/n needs to say to you," he tells her, coldly. then he looks at you. "is there?" 
"no," you whisper, coveting the feeling of his hand in yours. the two children at your side, who know what it's like to be loved. megumi and tsumiki, who will never feel unwanted, as long as you have a say in it. 
satoru nods, guffly, and turns. "it was a pleasure to meet you," he says, and he moves all of you away. you can almost feel it when he shields the three of you from the rest of the world.
with his hand in yours, the other in tsumiki's, and megumi on the other side of her, satoru leads you all away from her. 
and you let him. because the three of them are more of a family--a better, safer one--than that woman ever was. 
you can't thank them all for being there, being yours, in this moment, but you will. 
at least you know that. 
*
satoru has been watching you for hours. 
since you all got home and the kids' questions began. 
that was your mom? 
yes. 
why haven't we met her before? 
i haven't seen her in a long time. 
was she upset? 
yes. 
why? 
because i'm happier than she thought i'd be, you said, i have a better family. 
are we going to see her again? 
absolutely not. 
after that, the two of them quieted. satoru could tell that they had more questions, that megumi was curious and tsumiki was worried--but neither of them continued. 
it was almost unspoken that you couldn't take much more. that you needed a break from it, even if you wouldn't say. so they both moved on, resuming their usual antics and talking about the clothes they got, when and where they'd wear them. 
well, mostly tsumiki. but megumi entertained her thoughts for a while at least. 
satoru just watched you. the tiny break within your eyes, the gap between you and the rest of the world. you've remained all the same since you got home. cursed energy small, unchanging. your face in one position like it'll kill you to move it. 
satoru can't stand it, but he doesn't want to intrude. he doesn't want you to push him away too. 
so he only sat there, trying to fill your role (which was impossible) at the dinner table. 
and several hours later, after dinner, after space, satoru still hasn't brought it up. 
but he doesn't get the chance to. because as soon as you've put both of them to bed--insisting on tucking them in and talking to them both separately tonight, like you're making up for something--you're sneaking into satoru's room. 
and he's waiting like he always is. his arms are wide open when you walk into the room, and there's not a moment of hesitation before you fall into them. you don't blink or breathe before you're right against him, keeping yourself up with nothing more than blood and bone. 
satoru hugs you close to him, trying to let everything he feels go, just for you. 
(because he's just angry. 
he's angry that she showed up and ruined your day. he's angry that he wasn't there to keep it from happening. he's angry that when he walked over he could tell there was something wrong because you were frozen--because you were almost barren. no cursed energy, no expression. nothing to draw him to you like usual. 
and he's so angry that he can't do anything to fix it. 
so angry that being the strongest sorcerer of the modern age means nothing when he really needs it to. 
satoru isn't a person who hates. he never hated the people who attempted to tie him down as a kid so he couldn't escape observation. he didn't hate toji when he cut him through the throat. he didn't hate suguru for leaving, or yaga for asking why he didn't stop him. 
he doesn't hate. 
but he hates her.
for taking your face and twisting it around. for stealing your childhood and pretending like she didn't. for holding your precious heart in her hands and acting like it was nothing of value.
he hates her.) 
you both sit there, rocking back and forth, sinking together for a moment. 
and then you sniff, and satoru closes his eyes against your head, not sure what to say to make it all better. 
what he can do to erase this feeling from your body. what he can do to prove to you that you're worth so much more. 
"do you think i'm a good mom?" you whisper to him, as he moves back and forth. 
his heart pauses, needing a moment to consider this. to not feel a fire in his soul at the very suggestion. 
satoru pulls back, frowning. and he makes sure that your eyes are on his when he says, "there's not a person in the world who could take better care of them than you do," he swears, feeling like it's the most honest thing he's ever said. 
he wants to brand the words into your skin just so you never ask such a ridiculous question again. 
"thank you," you say, voice breaking, and satoru wipes the tears falling down your cheeks away. each one a different memory, a terrible moment where someone showed you that you didn't matter. 
and when they continue to fall, satoru continues to wipe them away. 
"do you want to talk about it?" he asks, almost hesitating. he's not sure that he can handle hearing about it--but he would if you needed him to. 
"not tonight," you whisper and fall against him again. 
satoru holds you close. 
and he swears, to whoever is listening, that he'll love you enough to make up for that woman. he'll love you enough to make up for everything.
he loves you enough to be sure of it. 
*
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villainousauthor · 2 months
Text
Hero continues to rock the wailing infant, trying to shush her. It's been hours, and still they haven't been able to get her to calm down. Nothing has worked, not a bottle, a diaper change, nothing.
Hero places their hand against her small forehead, checking for a fever, maybe. They feel so beyond their depth right now. Hero's barely slept the past day, and they're dead on their feet, eyes barely staying open.
"I wish you could just tell me what's wrong. This is so frustrating." Hero whines, still bouncing the crying infant.
"It's unfortunate, most babies can't talk." The familiar voice comes from behind, and Hero whirls around defensively to see Villain standing in the doorway of the nursery.
"What are you doing here?" Hero demands, clutching their child closer.
"You haven't come to fight me in months. I've sent out clear messages-"
"You mean constantly blowing up buildings and taking people hostage?" Hero interrupts, still holding their baby close to their chest.
"-but you never came. I was starting to think you died," Villain finishes eloquently. "I can see now that you've been a bit busy." They take a step closer, and Hero takes another step back, trying to keep distance.
This was bad. Hero very much intended that no one would know about their child, enemies especially. They could feel anxiety rising in their chest, clawing at their throat.
Villain eyes their movement before speaking again. "Shame, I would have sent a gift if I'd known. Who's the other parent?" Their eyes shoot back up to Hero's as they ask.
"No one. She's mine, her other parent is irrelevant." Hero says defensively. The baby continues to cry, face red.
Villain looks over the both of them, humming as they consider this. "So you're doing this alone. How long have you been up for?"
The question seems harmless, and yet Hero hesitates, still not trusting Villain. The way they ask though, seems simply curious.
"...A few hours now. I can't get her to sleep." Hero finally says quietly.
Villain steps closer again, this time slowly, as if to not worry Hero. "I can tell," They snort, but the words are soft, "You look completely exhausted."
"Jeez thanks-"
"May I try?" Villain asks, voice gentle. Hero looks at them like they've grown three heads. The very idea that Hero would hand their child over to Villain is so beyond ridiculous, that they can't believe they asked.
Vilain sees their expression and rolls their eyes. "I'm not going to do anything to harm her. I know you'd kick my ass if I even tried. I'm good with kids, and you look like you're going to fall over any minute."
They step even closer and lift a finger to the small baby, which she grabs with her chubby little hand. Villain chuckles at the sight.
Hero watches, eyes fighting to stay open. Villain is right, they do feel like they're on the verge of collapse any moment. Arms are heavy from continuously rocking the baby, legs feel like jello.
"Okay, you can hold her for a moment. But I swear to everything that if you do anything to harm her, your body will end scattered in tiny pieces across the country." Hero warns, their voice more deadly than it's ever been with Villain.
Villain simply smiles as they reach out for the baby. "I wouldn't expect anything less." They take her in their arms, holding her comfortably. Hero immediately collapses down into the nearby rocking chair.
They rock her in their arms like it's the most natural thing in the world. Hero watches on in surprise as she starts to calm down somewhat, though she's still fussy. The lack of wailing level crying is a godsend though.
"How in the world.." Hero asks, amazed at the sight.
Villain grabs a pacifier off the near by changing table, giving it to the infant. She accepts it easily and finally settles down.
"I told you I'm really good with kids. Plus babies just like me," They say as they look down at the infant in their arms with the most genuine smile Hero has ever seen, "Also have you considered that she might be teething?"
Hero raises an eyebrow before yawning suddenly. "Ah..no I haven't. I'm new to this, and I feel like I'm learning as I go along..."
"It probably doesn't help that you don't have any help either. Why don't you rest for a bit while I hold her?" Villain suggests, noticing how on the verge of falling asleep they are. "I promise I'll stay right here, and she'll be okay. You should get some sleep."
"I'm not so sure about that..." Hero replies, though their head is already starting to sag. "How'd you get so good with kids anyways?" They ask, their eyes beginning to flutter.
Villain chuckles quietly. "You don't get to unlock my tragic back story that easily." But Hero is already asleep, passed out over in the chair. Villain continues to hold the baby as they drap a small blanket over Hero.
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cillianhead · 7 months
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Heeyy, love your work💜 aaand I was wondering could you write dad's Bestfriend! Cillian and how your dad keeps asking Cillian to go on a double date with him and his wife since he's been single for a while, but Cillian doesn't want to and (you're at your house) or then somehow you and him end up in the same place later and talk about it? one of you confesses they're glad he didn't go cos they had feelings for the other and then things get heated 😉😉
Sorry if it's all over the place, I have so many little ideas in my brain rn lol
Thank you☺️
Thank you so much for your request, I've literally been thinking sooooo much about the idea of Dad's BestFriend! Cillian and how I wanted to write about it, I hope this is what you were looking for!
Enjoy <3
Illicit Affairs || Dad's BestFriend! Cillian Murphy x Reader
warnings: SMUT, age gap (Cillian is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), taboo relationship, unprotected P in V, oral sex (f receiving), a bit angsty, having to hide their relationship, jealousy, some homophobic comments I guess?? (not from Cillian), general adult content!! (Cillian isn't an actor/famous in this also he moved to America... in this!) (Also this fic is quite long... so that's a warning!)
18+ Minors DNI
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Cillian Murphy was that charming Irish man who lived just down your street. He had moved there around five or six years ago, you couldn't really remember, it was when you were just seventeen. He had moved here in the hopes of getting away from his ex-wife back in Ireland and starting over. Your dad was incredibly welcoming to him when he first moved in and they quickly became good buddies. Your dad was into sports and drinking beer, cooking out on the grill, and all that classic dad stuff. Cillian enjoyed that stuff too but he was much more into the arts than your dad ever could be. You two bonded over that. Cillian taught you how to play guitar, you'd write songs together, you'd go to concerts of bands you both liked.
Now you were twenty-four, in your last year of college and Cillian was still around, you still got together and went to concerts or played the guitar together every now and then, though you were more busy now and so was he. You'd had a crush on him ever since you had laid your eyes on him but you understood why it was wrong, understood why he was off limits. You couldn't help but grow jealous though when you'd see him bring home women every now and then and then see them leaving in the morning. It wasn't an occasion that happened often but it got on your nerves regardless, you knew you had no right to feel that way. But it still made you feel sick to your stomach.
Of course, you'd had a couple of boyfriends, none of them were all that serious. You hated yourself for comparing them to him, knowing no man could ever compare to the man that Cillian is. Your dad was oblivious to your (not-so) little crush. You had to keep it that way, not that anything was ever going to happen between you but you knew your dad would be uncomfortable with the idea of you having a crush on one of his best buddies.
"Cillian's comin' over tonight, Y/N." Your dad popped his head into your room, you just nodded and smiled before he left. You still lived at home since you studied not too far from home, your parents were more than happy to let you live there for as long as you needed but you had plans of moving out soon, as soon as you graduated.
"Thanks, Dad... I already know that." You chuckled. Your mom was downstairs cooking dinner and you had also received text messages from the man himself, earlier that day informing you he was coming over, so you were very much aware that he was coming over.
Cillian: Can't wait to see you. It's been a while, kid. xxx
You'd read the message over and over and over again. Your heart fluttered each time you did so. You hated how he called you 'kid', you were a grown woman, you weren't a kid anymore. You really hated it because you knew you didn't hate it. In fact, the nickname made you all shy and giggly, it made you like him even more.
It was around six when your mom called out for you that dinner was ready. You had tried your best to look nice, for whatever reason that may be. It wasn't anything too crazy or too dressy but it was definitely nicer than how you'd normally dress when you had guests over. A small black skirt that was a bit risky with how short it was but you could definitely get away with wearing it and a tight long-sleeved black shirt, tucked into it. You could hear chattering from the dining room, the sound of Cillian's chortling made you smile as you entered the room to find yourself meeting the back of the head of an unfamiliar blonde woman, sitting next to Cillian, and making him laugh. Your smile had dropped.
"Oh, sweetie!" Your mom waved you over to the table, the food had been served, both parents sitting on either end of the table while you had to sit and face Cillian and this strange blonde lady. Was this his girlfriend? You knew it had been around a month or so since you'd last seen him but surely he hadn't gotten a girlfriend in such a short amount of time. "This is Cassandra... we've been friends since college, I thought it would be nice to introduce her to Cillian... I've always said how I thought they'd get along."
You just nodded politely, looking Cillian in the eyes to see the discomfort staring back at you. Cassandra was beaming, as any woman should be if she sat beside Cillian, you just glared as you prepared your plate of food. You remained civil, of course, nodding along to things being said and laughing extra hard at jokes your dad tried to make. But you couldn't get rid of the big fat elephant in the room, Cassandra. She was pretty enough, with long blonde hair (obviously bleached, you thought), and makeup done elegantly but it was a bit much. Lip fillers to the max and smooth botox-filled skin. But the thing was... her perfume was obnoxiously loud for a smell. It filled the room like someone had bombed the place with perfume-scented grenades and it absolutely ruined the food. You don't know how Cillian could just sit there, breathing in her perfume without vomiting all over the place. You were sitting across the table and it was horrible, practically on the verge of a migraine, how bad must it be having to sit right next to her?
You scolded yourself silently for trying to put down this woman in your head. She hadn't done anything wrong except breathe near Cillian. It wasn't her fault you had some sort of weird jealousy issues when it came to him.
"...What... what do you do for work, Cassandra?" Cillian asked politely before taking a bite from his fork, looking at Cassandra with genuine interest. That made your gut churn.
"Oh... well I actually work for the Catholic church just around the corner," Cassandra smiled. "I actually go around... um... telling people about Catholicism and its benefits, trying to get them to join." You took a sip of your wine with a cheeky grin on your face as you saw Cillian's discomfort with her response. You knew fully well he had no issue with people practicing religion but you knew how he felt for people to go around and shove their beliefs down people's throats. With the slightest bit of alcohol running through your veins, you found some courage to feign interest in her line of 'work'.
"That's really interesting, Cassie," You hummed delightfully, your parents looked over at you cautiously. You knew you had crossed a line by calling her 'Cassie'. "What are your thoughts on gay people?" The room went silent. The drop of a pin could be heard.
Her face went beet red at this question. Your mom gave you a disappointed look before faking a smile. Cillian looked amused before turning to Cassandra, everyone waiting for her response.
"I... erm...." She was looking around the room. Now maybe you had guessed wrong, maybe she was totally fine with gay people but you had a feeling her answer was going to be the complete opposite of that. "I think... if someone wishes... to live that lifestyle... then they should... keep it to themselves..." You cringed at that response. "I think God... I think God would not approve of... that sort of lifestyle." Bazinga. Cillian was immediately put off.
"I didn't realize you spoke for God himself." Cillian chuckled as he looked down into his glass of wine with that mischievous smile that mirrored your own. The two of you giggled at each other, Cillian seemed sort of relieved in a way that he didn't have to deal with this bozo of a woman anymore and your jealousy had disappeared along with the food on your plate.
Eventually, Cassandra left hurriedly. Your mom scolded you for being rude but you just shrugged it off. Cillian stuck around to hang out with your dad as you and your mom cleaned the dishes, you could hear them chattering on the back porch, probably about the latest baseball game or your dad trying to convince Cillian to come over one day for a barbecue.
"Go bring these to your father and Cillian, sweetie." Your mom hands a pack of beer which you take carefully as you nod.
Walking out to the back veranda, Cillian sat with a cigarette in between his lips. How could someone be so pretty? You sat the beers down on the small coffee table before turning back around to keep helping your mom but were quickly stopped by Cillian's hands curling around your wrist. Electric jolts ran through you with his touch. "Why don't you join us, kid?" Cillian hummed.
"Alright." You politely sat down beside him, he sat in between you and your father. It was a lovely summer's night, the crickets chirped and the sun was only just setting at almost nine at night. It was quiet and peaceful and warm. Cillian's presence especially helped provide that atmosphere.
You tucked your legs up into your chest, you and Cillian occasionally sharing glances at each other while your dad and he continued to talk about subjects that didn't capture your interest. Every time he looked at you, you felt like you could explode, his eyes so captivating and simply electrifying. "Here, love." Cillian passed the cigarette over to you, and you took a small drag. Your dad gave you a disapproving look but shook it off as you passed it back, letting out the bellowing smoke from the chambers of your lungs and mouth.
"Weird seein' my little girl smoking a cigarette," Your father grumbled, cracking open a cold one and handing it over to Cillian. "S'not right, you've grown up too fast." While he opened himself a beer, Cillian laid his eyes on you, sucking in the thick smoke of his fag.
You just rolled your eyes at your father's comment. "If it makes you feel better... the only time I have ever smoked a cigarette is when I've been around Cillian." You giggled, looking over at Cillian to see him tilting his head at you, playfully nudging you.
"Hey," He whispered. "Don't dob me in, kid!" His voice was low and husky, you felt yourself squeeze a little at the tremor his tone caused.
Grasping your lip in between your bottom lip you just shook your head as you leaned your head against the wall of the house, staring out at the sunset. You sat out there for a little while, sharing puffs of the cigarette with Cillian until your dad got up, grumbling somethin' about how he was going to help your mother. Leaving you and Cillian alone together. Alone.
"Your parents are pretty eager to hook me up with someone," Cillian said, breaking the silence between you.
"Yeah?" You sucked in a breath.
"Yeah," He took a sip of his beer, setting it down on the table before stretching an arm back and laying it behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. You were flustered, being so close to him, in this sort of dim lighting. "Apparently, I'm goin' out this Saturday to go on a double date wit' your folks... and some woman named Naomi."
You bit back a scowl. "Oh... that's nice..." You lied through your teeth, Cillian just let out an amused huff. It gave off the impression he was irritated with something but you couldn't quite pick up on why he would be annoyed. He wanted you to stand up and tell him to stay, to tell him to be with you instead, he wanted you to be angry, he thought.
You knew who Naomi was. She worked with your dad, you had met her a few times. She was incredibly bright, charming, and nonetheless beautiful, ageing gracefully. Cillian and her were going to get along quite well, in fact, you felt yourself grow sad over the fact they would probably flourish as a couple. You and Cillian sat in silence for a little while longer, you didn't know what else to say. You felt ashamed that this wasn't just a crush you had, you harbored genuine and strong feelings for him that you knew he could never reciprocate. It was wrong. But how could you not want to be with him? He was the best man you'd ever met. Cillian was kind, he understood your silence, and he made you laugh until your ribs hurt. He comforted you like no other, without even trying and god... he was magnetic, the most handsome man you'd ever seen.
"She's not the woman I'm interested in though," Cillian groused, his fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, his thumb occasionally brushing over the bare skin on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him with a frown. His face perfectly aligned with yours, hot breath on your face, his pale blue eyes lit up by the rising moon. You could kiss him at that moment... but you wouldn't. You shouldn't. "Y/N..." He took in a deep breath, and your heart raced, it seemed like he was about to confess something. "I..."
"Come on! Let me walk ya home!" Your dad stepped out, and you immediately hopped up and out of the seat, not wanting your dad to see the close proximity you and Cillian were in, not that anything was happening between you two. Not that your dad would see anything you were feeling at that moment. "Sorry was I interrupting something?" Your dad murmured obliviously, disappointment painting both of your faces.
"No... no... I'd better be goin'," Cillian stood up, brushing himself off before pulling you into a tight hug. "See ya round, kid." He whispered into your hair before letting go of you, he gave you a longing stare before turning away.
"Bye, Cillian..."
Your heart sank as you watched him go. Curiosity that ate away at you bubbled in your stomach. What was he going to tell you? Surely... it's not what you were thinking? Sitting in your room that night, you struggled to think about anything else. You hated the idea of Cillian meeting this Naomi woman and falling in love with her. You hated that you felt like you had some sort of possession over him, he wasn't yours and he never would be.
Stormy Saturday rolled around and you had no plans, you just watched your parents get ready for this double date of theirs as you wallowed in self-pity and the sky opened up, just as moody as you were. They pestered you on why you were so grumpy, you just shrugged them off, blaming it on hormones. With every step they took towards the door, your heart broke more and more. You wished them goodbye before sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream to soothe away the pain. An hour went by and you figured the date had started by now, Naomi and Cillian were probably planning their marriage straight away and you would have to watch him give himself away, you would have to sit in the church pews and resist from standing up and screaming when the minister asks if anyone has any objections. You imagined yourself watching their first dance, watching Cillian stand up and tell the world how she's the most amazing woman he's ever known and that he loves her. You imagined having to congratulate him, you imagined growing old and alone, still just as in love with him as you are now. You groaned at your silly thoughts.
"Get over yourself." You said through gritted teeth, talking to yourself as you bit back tears.
You had some stupid rom-com on, only further reminding you of how painfully alone you were and how desperately you wished to be the one Cillian wanted. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by your phone buzzing beside you, quickly picked it up when you saw it was your dad calling.
"Hey dad, how's it going?" You asked with a casual hum, plopping another bit of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.
"Have you seen Cillian? He's yet to arrive." Your dad sounded worried, he was never a worrier. "He said he was going to show up earlier but we haven't heard from him since... have you heard from him?"
"No, I haven't, is he okay... do you think?" You sat up fully now, setting the ice cream aside. It wasn't like Cillian to not respond at all for so long. If he wasn't going to show up, he'd at least let the people know. You hear a loud strike of lightning outside, shaking the room.
"I don't know, I don't know, Y/N, it's been an hour and a half, he should be here..." Your dad grumbles. You can hear the sound of your mom apologizing to someone else, no doubt Naomi was the person she was apologizing to. Sorry, your future husband hasn't arrived, you imagined her saying. "Alright, I'm gonna go, we're gonna stick around here for a little longer... call me if you hear from him."
The call ends and you're left with an uneasy feeling in your chest. What if Cillian was hurt? You tried to brush away that feeling, getting up and putting the ice cream back in the freezer and the spoon in the sink. A knock at your front door, as loud as the thunder outside made you jump about halfway across the kitchen. Who would be knocking at this time? Especially during this weather?
You rush to the door, the rain pouring out, the trees just about to be ripped out of the ground with how harsh the wind was and you open the door, scowling at the wind.
"Y/N." Cillian gasped out, he looked straight out of a movie scene. Soaking wet. He took a step in, dripping all over the place. His eyebrows furrowed together as he approached you.
"Cillian, what? What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed, shutting the door. "My parents are worried sick about you!"
"I...."
"Why aren't you at your date?" You interrupted, scolding him like a naughty child. He was shivering as he took off his sopping coat, leaving him in a white button-up shirt that was equally soaked. It didn't leave much to the imagination, with the already somewhat translucent material and the water leaking through. It stuck to every inch of his skin like cellophane, his nipples peeked through, his chest and stomach on full display. You stopped yourself from checking him out any further, growing flustered as you felt him corner you in the living room. He had a wild look in his eyes.
"Cillian?" You ask again, concerned. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his eyes locked on you. He didn't seem to really care that he was as wet as a dog.
"Y/N..."
"Cillian..." You repeated.
His eyes said everything he was thinking. Hunger, love, and deep untamed desperation. You winced a bit at the feeling of hand cupping your face. "I love you." He whispered and you gasped.
"Cillian..." You whispered back, hesitant to respond to what he just said. "Have you... have you had something to drink tonight?"
"I'm completely sober, kid," He grunted as he leaned in to kiss you, hot breath on your neck as you quickly turned your cheek to him. You pushed him away, you knew this was wrong. You took a step away from him, and Cillian gave you a look of hurt. "Y/N, baby, I need to tell you this. I have to know you feel the same way." His voice was shaking. The room shook with him, you sat down on your sofa and curled your body up into a tiny ball. "Look at me, kid, look at me." "Don't call me kid!" You yelled with tears in your eyes, finally looking him in the eyes. Cillian jumped a bit at the sudden outburst, it wasn't like you to yell.
"Y/N..." Cillian whispered, a look of hurt.
"We... we can't... I don't know... what's going on right now... but this isn't right... you're my dad's best friend..."
"And you're my best friend's daughter," He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh and the other on your chin, making you look at him. "But it doesn't.... it doesn't change these feelings... I have for you."
"Why?" You shook your head away, trying to hide the hot tears that slipped down your face. "Why would you have feelings for me? You could have anyone... and you decide me." "I didn't decide this," Cillian sighed, he leaned in and pressed his face into your warm shoulder. His cold wet hair tickles along your jawline. "But I want you... it doesn't matter... any woman could beg to have me... I'd still want you, Y/N. No one else matters... I need you." Your heart ached. It felt like Cillian had wrapped his warm hand around your poor heart and squeezed it until warm raspberry jam spilled out of his fist. You felt torn.
"Don't cry, baby..." His voice was low and every bit of you wanted to fling yourself at him, to confess your undying love, to run away to Paris with him and never come back. The way he called you baby was delectable. But you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, about the look on their faces if they saw this. "Y/N... baby..." "Stop calling me baby..." You cried, turning your face full of anguish towards him. Cillian's lip quivered, thumb swiping away your tears. "I don't... I don't get it. I just don't get it, Cillian... why... you? Why... me?"
"You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met, kid..." Cillian's petal-like lips whispered to you oh-so-gently. Your eyes locked on the way his mouth moved as he spoke. "I... I know it's wrong, I know I'm a fuckin' creep... for feeling this way for you... I'm old enough to be your goddamn father... I've known you since you were... just seventeen-"
"How long... have you... you known...?"
"Since you came home from your trip to California last year..." He replied all too quickly. "I saw you with that stupid boy... Kyle or whatever the fuck his bloody name was and all I saw was red... I didn't... I couldn't handle seeing you with him." You bit back a smile. "You're too good... for any of those college boys..." He grumbled. "A lady like you... she needs to be treated right."
You can treat me right Cillian, you thought. "I've never wanted them... the way I've wanted you..." "Fuck..." He let out quietly, biting his own lip in response. "You can't say things like that." His blue eyes were just a sliver of what they once were, pupils were blown wide as if he were high from just staring at you. "Most brilliant girl... fuck... that last gig we went to... I wanted to wrap me arm around you and kiss you silly... claim you as mine... but... I was too afraid."
"What gave you the courage?"
"I've just had enough," Cillian swiped another tear off your cheek. "Had enough of waiting... I can't wait any longer..."
"I can't wait any longer either... it's been eating away at me, the idea of you with anyone else. I just... I can't picture you with anyone else."
Cillian grinned at you, still shivering from his wet clothes. You put him out of his misery, connecting your lips. After all this time, what felt like an eternity, you kissed. The oxygen around you no longer mattered, you had each other to breathe in now. This kiss was not slow and romantic, it was violent like you were trying to consume each other, trying to see who could win in this cannibalistic fight. His hands grasped at your waist, pulling you onto his lap and wetting your clothes with his soggy ones.
"Take my shirt off..." He whispered, he didn't have to ask you twice.
You unbuttoned his shirt as best you could while it was wet before ripping it open and revealing his delicious skin. "You're so pretty, Cillian..." This moment was surreal. The man of your dreams, twenty years older than you, with crow's feet and grey hairs, and the most beautiful soul you had ever found, sitting in front of you with his body on display for you. Your soulmate. You both had known it for a long time now. Making out on your couch was unacceptable to Cillian so he picked you up and carried you upstairs with your legs wrapped around his slim waist.
He had been in your room plenty of times before but never for reasons like this. Never with the desire to rip all your clothes off and crawl inside you. Cillian closed and locked the door behind you before throwing you down onto your well-cushioned bed. You watched him slide out of his shoes and pull off the sticky shirt that draped off his shoulders. Now he was completely shirtless and was prowling towards you like a tiger to its prey. "Gonna take your clothes off of now, love, is that alright?" He asked quickly, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts. You nodded desperately, your brain lost in some sort of fog of disbelief and horniness.
"God..." You whispered as you helped him shimmy off your shorts and you pulled your shirt quickly over your head. Leaving you in nothing but some small boxer shorts. He grinned madly.
"S'pretty..." His hands slid up your waist until both hands cupped each of your tits in his hands. "Fucking hell, kid." You rolled your head back at him calling you that, groaning at how it turned you on and gasping as you felt his hot mouth latch itself onto your hard nipple.
"Cillian... oh my god!" Your fingers tugged on his hair before he pulled off of you with a pop.
His lips were quickly back on yours as he pulled down your shorts, now you were completely naked and he knelt down on his knees so his face was perfectly aligned with what was between your legs. Your pussy was already soaking wet for him, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. "You are the most beautiful thing..." He whispered, staring directly at your throbbing cunt. "And the sweetest." His mouth worked deliciously on you and as if his tongue wasn't already enough, he slipped a finger into you, fingering at your g-spot.
"Oh!" You writhed around on the sheets, thighs tightly locked around his head, wet hair sticking to your soft skin. He was truly devouring you, like a man who had been malnourished for years, he feasted on you as if you were his last meal. And when you came on his face, he moaned loudly. The orgasm crept on you and hit you out of nowhere, you couldn't hold in the noises that came out of your throat.
You were delirious as you lay there, whining as he continued to finger you. "Fuck... I could eat your pussy all night long, baby," Cillian panted, chin dripping in your juices. "But I've gotta be inside ya."
"I'm... on the pill..." You murmured out, he pulled his finger out of you, sucking it clean as he undid his slacks. He moaned lowly at your words, letting his pants and underwear fall to his ankles. Cillian carried you up until your head rested on the pillows now. It was romantic the way he was handling you, the moment was so intimate as he stroked his cock, lining it up with your wanting hole. "I've thought about this... for so long..." "Me too, baby." Cillian huffed, rolling his eyes back into his skull as he fit the head of his cock into your pussy, pushing the rest in there slowly but surely. You arched your back against him, whimpering as he pressed fully into you. "So good." Cillian groaned as he leaned down and bit down on your lip, pulling it away and watching it pop back into place before properly kissing you. You made out while he remained still inside of you, his hands on either side of your head as your tongues twisted together. The first thrust sent your body into a state of euphoria as he began picking up the pace, rocking his hips in and out of you. Your fingers ran scratches up and down his back. Your bed old and creaky, slamming against the wall as soon as he fucked you hard and fast while remaining still so painfully romantic.
"I love you," You gasped out. "I love you... Cillian!"
"I fuckin' love you so much," His head hung low, and you got the perfect view of him above you. His face flushed and his eyes fixed on your own face full of pleasure. "You're mine, all mine... and I'm yours."
"All mine..." You repeated with a moan, clenching around him, feeling your own high slowly begin to grow.
"You're takin' me so good," Cillian's praise made you throb, his grunting making you gush around him. "My good girl, my best girl."
The look of love in his eyes and in your own could be seen a thousand miles away. Your souls' grand reunion, your bodies becoming one, and your love finally coming out into the open, like a beautiful fruitful spring after a long and dark winter. "I'm close, Cillian."
"Cum around me, love, I wanna feel you come undone." "I want you to cum inside me..." "Fuck," He groaned, hips stuttering into you. "I'll give ya what you want since you asked so nicely." Your vision went white, ears ringing as your hot sweaty bodies pressed together, fitting so perfectly together. Never had anyone made you cum like this before. Your orgasm washes over you in foamy waves, like a stormy ocean hitting the shore over and over and over again. Cillian's rhythm slowed down as he rutted into you, warm cum filling you, and you felt so relieved, this was how it was always meant to be. His lips pressed sloppy kisses to your neck, moaning directly into your ear, both of you riding out your intense highs.
He stilled, letting a bit more of his seed spill into you before he hissed as he pulled out. Cillian lay beside you, wrapping an arm around you as shook softly, still feeling the effects of your own orgasm hitting you. His eyes examined you so gently, a dopey smile on his fairy-like face and his hair beginning to grow curly from how wet it was.
"Cillian..." You whispered, rolling over onto your side to look at him. "I love you." "I love you, kid." He whispered back, holding you like he had the world in his arms. To him, you were his world.
"We'll be okay, right?" "We just... have to keep this a secret... from your parents..." Cillian said, disappointment evident in his voice.
"Yeah... I know..." You pressed your face into his bare chest, loving the warmth. "Cillian... I wish you knew how strongly I felt about you."
"I feel the same way."
You shared sweet nothings with each other. Still, in disbelief, this was actually happening as you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, in each other's arms. Unfortunately in the morning, you'd have to suffer the consequences of your dad walking in on you and Cillian resting peacefully in your bed.
-
hi! sorry this was so long but i hope you enjoyed <3
also sorry if there are any major mistakes!
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Record of Justice: Wonder Woman! Reader HCs
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I am so gay for Diana.
- Brunhilde doesn't HESITAITE to choose you as one of her champions, seeing as you're both demi-gods who come from a warrior race of women, I can see you and her honestly having a lot in common together.
- But yeah, no, Diana's whole thing is that she wants to save the world of man so even of Brunhilde didn't choose her, you would have still chosen to fight because it was your duty.
- So Wonder Woman has multiple origins: Her original one being that she was born from clay by her mother but there are versions she has a dad which kinda switches between Hades and Zeus. Zeus will be your father in this case because I genuinely like the idea of him blowing his fucking gasket when he sees you enter in the side of humanity.
- "YOU KNOW HER, YOU LOVE HER: LADIES AND GENTLEGODS, GIVE IT UP FOR THE AMAZONIAN PRINCESS AND SAVIOR OF MAN: (Y/N)!!!"
- Ares and Wonder Woman have so much beef in the comics so you and him definetly don't see eye to eye now. In fact, Ares would fight you himself if he could but like, you're also kinda scary when you're mad.
- Zeus and Poseidon are literally about to blow a fucking gasket when they see you. Zeus is more subtle as usual as he's all: "Oh, well she's always been the black sheep of the family!" but in reality, he feels deeply betrayed. Poseidon isn't surprised honestly, he genuinely believes you should have grown up with the Olympians instead of on Themyscira because then maybe you'd learn to look down on those pathetic humans instead of protecting them.
- Tbh, Poseidon does have a bit of a soft spot for you as his niece because you're the only one whose ever DARED to back talk him despite knowing his power. He wishes your mother, Hippolyta, wasn't such a stubborn woman. I can totally see moments when you're absolutely destroying Gods and Poseidon just smiling proudly at you but then quickly scowling so no one can see him.
- However the Greek Gods who explicitly still care for you are definetly Hermes, Hercules, and Aphrodite.
- Aphrodite, being your big sister, absolutely adores you even if you two aren't on the same side. She smiles when she sees you and if she can, she will try to catch you in the hallways and pull you into a hug, meanwhile you're kinda suffocating in her bosom. She compliments you on what a strong and beautiful woman you've become, the only reason she isn't upset with you for "betraying" the family is because...well, you've always been like that. It's just nice to see you again♡
-As for Hercules, you both are Demi gods and while you acknowledge humanities faults, you welcomed him with open arms and appreciate his dedication. You two might not be bound by blood but the way you carry each other's ideals and respect and tease each other, its very clear you two have an unbreakable bond.
- Hermes adored you since you were born. Despite Themyscira's laws that men weren't allowed on the island, he was a God, and would happily come and see you to play with you. Taking on a big brother role in your life, he smiles softly as you glare at your father and he thinks you're just as cute as when you were a little toddler struggling to walk on the sandy beach coast of your island.
- As for the human side, they're all in literal wonder of you...which makes sense regarding your hero alias, but when they watched you at work: you impressed everyone while Brunhilde smiled at you and it pissed Zeus off even more when you both shook hands and sent him smug smirks on your faces.
Enemies/People Who Dislike You:
- Ares is a huge hater as I stated before, maybe you humiliated him in the past in front of Zeus, or maybe it was that one time you stole his helmet in a fight and became the New Goddess of War for a while but either way: you and him should never be in the same room together because not even the Gods can predict that disaster.
- Loki thought the rope thing was kinda hot but found out the hard way WHY it was called the Lasso of Truth. Even when he is shaped shifted, he will revert to his normal form if you ever catch him with it AND YOU ALWAYS FUCKING DO. He also can't even try and mislead you by telling you half truths because he just blurts out the truth right away. Everyone absolutely adores you for it, ngl since Loki doesn't even bother pulling tricks when you're around and when he sees you fight for humanity, he throws a huge tantrum...He still finds the rope thing hot tho...
- Zeus. He has conflicted feelings for you, he does love you but he wishes you wouldn't always go against his wishes...though he supposes thats what he gets for having your mother raise you instead of him. You show him respect but you clearly harbour bitter feelings for him betraying your trust and wanting to wipe out humanity and he understands that. It still doesn't give you the right to laugh about him with Brunhilde and he'll be sure to get you back for it.
Allies/Friends Who Trust You:
- Brunhilde is honestly a good friend of yours, I genuinely think she sees you the same way she sees Hercules but she relates to you a little more. (The Valkyries and Amazon's would have martinis on the beaches of Themyscira, fight me on that-)
- Shiva, honestly. He likes that you're strict but you can definetly be fun and silly in your own way. You honestly remind him of Rudra, who he totally tries to set you up with so because you two really have a lot in common!
- Obviously Hercules, Hermes, and Aphrodite but also: Poseidon, surprisingly...sometimes. Again, he does soften a bit when it comes to you and he wonders if you're simply stubborn and brave or stubborn and stupid. You are his favorite niece but also, the one that causes him to roll his eyes the most.
- Honestly, all of the Valkyries. When you heard about Brunhilde and her Völundr's, you knew that it was clever but also: that you couldn't just stand to let your fellow sisters in battle fall, the odds being against them. Also, the will all hug you and tackle you to the ground.
- Sasaki Kojiro is a human you take a liking too, he reminds you of a friend whose clad in all black...except he's more cheerful and happy and might have lost in life, but still: he never gives up. You admire those skills in a human and he gets all shy and flustered when you compliment him but I can totally see the both of you practicing sword fights and even moments where he beats you, which you're proud of him for doing, honestly.
- Adam. He genuinely just is the dad Zeus never was, even though you're not one of his own children, he'll fight like you are. Tbh, the only man that deserves to set foot in Themyscira and the other Amazon's would agree. Eve also gossiping with your Hippolyta in the crowd and complimenting her on raising such a wonderful daughter and they talk about mom things.
Admirers/Characters Who Have a Crush on You:
- Thor, just straight up. Since you're a fellow immortal, you two have somewhat known each other, you didn't really care much for the godly affairs so it wasn't often, but he's had the biggest crush on you. When he saw you fight so fearlessly in the crowd, those feelings came back 10 fold. Definetly wants to fight you because that's his way of flirting. Zeus and Odin 100% want to pair you two together to create an official alliance and while Thor wants you to choose him out of your own volition, he will suggest that it is a good idea.
- Jack the Ripper. HE HAS BISEXUAL PANIC BECAUSE HERCULES WAS ALREADY SOKIND TO HIM BUT YOU?? OH, YOU'RE TRULY DESERVING OF THE TITLE OF GODDESS, your color is so gorgeous; filled with such love and passion. After his battle, after he killed Hercules, he is ashamed to face you. But, amazingly, you do not look at him in disgust or shame. You kneel down and gently hold his face, you are in mourning, but you still kiss his head gently and tell him: "You fought well. Rest." and he just short circuits as you begin to carry him.
- BUDDHA, BABY. He loves how serious you are but also, that you can be pretty goofy honestly. Also loves how you stand up to Zeus constantly. Not to mention he certainly has a thing for strong women. But also, he finds your work inspiring, trying to guide humanity to a better life of enlightment. HIPPOLYTA ALSO TRYING TO SET YOU TWO UP BECAUSE SHE'S A COOL MOM AND SHE'S ALL: "You know, that Buddha has been staring at you~" and you have to be all: "MOTHER!" And he walks over to you and offers you a snack and you take it. Zeus hates him because he thinks Buddha would be a "bad influence" on you.
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Eddie Calls Wayne "Dad"
{ i 100% wrote this for @friendly-jester because it was their birthday and THEY DIDN'T TELL MEEEEEEE!!! so yeah this happened for them! Happy Belated birthday day yet again dearest!!! }
The first time Eddie calls Wayne "dad" he's 7 years old. He wakes to this small boy, teary eyed and shaking, clutching the little stuffed black cat Wayne had won him at the fair the first month he'd been here. His little hand on Wayne's shoulder wakes him. Warm and gentle. Almost too gentle. Wayne knows it's because he's afraid Wayne will get mad. He's only been here a year and half, and he's getting better. But he's still skittish. Wayne clears his thoat of sleep and blinks up at the boy.
"What is it son?" He calls him that all the time. He knows Eddie's not his. But he is. He is to Wayne. He is now. Eddie sniffles, wipes at his little nose with the back of his hand and says,
"I h-had a nightmare Daddy." And he's crawling up onto the cot with Wayne before Wayne has time to open his arms for him.
He scoots back, makes room for the kid. Throws his blanket back and then coveres them both back up as Eddie snuggles into his pillow. He holds the little cat up to Wayne. Wayne kisses it's head, like always, and Eddie smiles a teary smile, holding it close. He's already almost back to sleep. Wayne rubs at his head gently. Soothes him. And lowers his head back to his pillow, hand resting on Eddie's small shoulder as he falls back to sleep as well.
Eddie doesn't remember the nightmare in the morning. Just asks Wayne if he missed him when he wakes up in Wayne's bed. Wayne laughs and says,
"Yep kiddo. Missed you so much I had to bring ya in here with me."  And Eddie giggles, grabbing his cat and shuffling to his room.
But Wayne sees the look he gives him, a small sideways glance after the smile fades. Wayne's pretty sure Eddie remembers just fine. But he grew up, at least partly, he's not grown yet, in a house full of anger and secrets.
Wayne is sure Eddie is keeping things to himself because he doesn't want Wayne to have to worry. Wayne is also pretty sure that this boy is smarter than he could ever dream of being. He watches Eddie shuffle back out in his school clothes. Just a black t-shirt and black jeans. He rubs his hands over his eyes and pulls his shoes on. Sits at the table and eats the toast Wayne made in silence.
Wayne doesn't know what to say to him. Has never been much of a talker. So he sits silently too. And when he's finished he walks past Eddie, ruffles his hair, and asks him if he's ready for school. Eddie smiles brightly and grabs his backback, yelling something about how they're supposed to be learning about dragons today. Wayne is pretty sure he means dinosaurs, but Wayne had also been informed by a very stern Eddie that dinosaurs were just dragons without fire and wings.
~°~
The second time it happens is before the talent show. Eddie is nervous. Bouncing on the balls of his feet next to Gareth and Jeff as they watch the Cunningham girl do some cheer and gymnastics across the stage.  Eddie is watching her, but Wayne can tell he's only half paying attention. Wayne clears his throat from behind them, grabbing their attention. All three of them turn, Eddie's face lighting up when he sees Wayne, he bounds into his arms.
"You made it!" He whispers loudly into Wayne's shoulder as they collide. Wayne catches him easily. His arms wraping around Eddie, he's still so small, Wayne's not sure he'll grow much more. He hopes not. His mother was small too. He wants Eddie to have that from her. He smiles tho, giving him a squeeze.
"Almost didn't. Traffic was a bitch on 75." Wayne mutters. Eddie pulls back with a laugh, holding Wayne's shoulders.
"But you made it."
"I did." Wayne nods. Eddie smiles. The Cunningham girl's act ends, the curtains close. She comes running in their direction, bumping into Eddie and turning as she runs, calling out,
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Good luck out there!" And then she dissappears into a group of laughing girls. Eddie mutters a nervous 'thanks', holding his guitar in his hand, his knuckles are white. Wayne grabs a hold of his neck as Gareth and the others help get there stuff center stage. Eddie's eyes are wide, there's fear, but also excitement.
"You're gonna do great. And I know this is a long shot for you, but try to stay focused." He winks at Eddie, gets that huge smile in return. Eddie's missing a tooth. He'd told Wayne it had just finally fallen out. But Wayne had seen the scrap on his face. Let Eddie have the lie.
Eddie holds his guitar close, moving it into position and jogs out onto the stage, calling over his shoulder,
"Thanks dad!" It's said without thought or realization. And then he's out there. And the curtains open, and him and his friends do their thing. And Wayne's not into the hard metal like Eddie is. But he likes the music his boy makes. Because as loud and scary as it may be to some people, his boy puts his heart into it. Like he does with everything. Wayne could watch him play music with his friends all day.
They dont win. But they hadn't entered to win. They just wanted to play on stage. Wayne takes them all out for pizza after. A few of their parents come along. The smiles on all their faces as they eat and shout and laugh warms Wayne's heart. Eddie had found these boys, like rescuing strays. Wayne could never articulate how proud he was, not in words, or any other way. So he just rests his arm on the back Eddie's chair, squeezes his shoulder and smiles back when Eddie beams at him.
~°~
The third time it happens. Eddie's a junior. He comes home dripping blood from his face. He storms past Wayne and shuts himself in the bathroom. Wayne can hear him sobbing. Hears him cursing. But he waits.
Eddie finally comes out of the bathroom. Stops in the hall. His shoulders hung. They shake for a moment. And then stop. He turns, his face bruised, his eyes glassy, but there's something in them, under the sadness. Defiance. He takes a step toward Wayne. Takes a deep breathe, and sighs.
"I'm a fucking idiot." He says, shaking his head. Wayne smiles a little, shakes his head.
"Now I know that ain't true. You wanna tell me what happened?" He folds the newspaper on his lap, throws it on the coffee table. Eddie swallows, hard, stares at Wayne. And Wayne can see fear in his eyes again. It's been years since he looked at Wayne with fear in his eyes.
"Go on. Ya know I'm listenin." He folds his hands in his lap, never looks away from his nephew. And Eddie, he does the thing he's best at, he throws Wayne a fucking curve ball.
"I'm gay. And I kissed a boy. The wrong one. Turns out. He said he was the right one. He kissed me back. This was..." Eddie crosses his arms defensively, looking toward the ceiling, thinking,
"Three days ago? And today he punched me in the face when I said hi to him in the bathroom. And then his friend punched me because I apparently I attacked his friend? Which I didn't." Wayne watches his hands fist in his shirt as he speaks, his arms tightening around himself.
"He said he liked me. I- I don't know what happened." His arms fall, he looks defeated. His chest shakes as he tries not to cry. Wayne stands, too quickly, Eddie flinches back. Wayne opens his palms, holds them out to Eddie as he moves closer. Eddie's trembling by the time Wayne gets his arms around him. Eddie sobs against him, clutching at Wayne, his fingers almost painful. Wayne tries to sooth him, moves his hand over Eddie's back slowly.
"He said he liked me dad. Why did he do that?" Eddie cries into his shirt. Wayne grimaces, holds him tigher. Fights the urge to leave Eddie here and go find this boy. Make him feel the pain he's caused Eddie.
"I don't know son. But hey, look at me." He pulls back, Eddie looks at him, reluctantly.
"He's an asshole if he doesn't know how good he's got it with you. Yeah?" Wayne says, watches so many emotions fly across Eddie's face it almost makes him dizzy. He settles on confused, maybe a little wary.
"You- you're not mad? Y-you don't hate me?" His voice hitches, and Wayne immediately shakes his head.
"Nothin. And I mean nothin, you could ever do, would ever make me hate you. You hear me?" Wayne grabs his shoulders, gives him a little shake, for emphasis.
"Mhmm." Eddie hums.
"Hmm?" Wayne hums back.
"Yes sir." Eddie sniffles, wipes at his nose. The same way he'd done all those years ago when he'd woken Wayne.
"Good. Now listen, cuz I want you to hear me okay?"
Eddie nods.
"Ain't nothin wrong with likin what you like. You just gotta be careful. And safe. Because people round here. They are small minded. And vindictive. And they will hurt you. But hey," he moves his hands to Eddie's neck, bending a little to look him right in the eyes.
"I am so proud of you. And your mama woulda been proud too. Okay? You trust me?" He frowns, hoping he'd said everything right. Said everything the way his mother would have wanted. Eddie's crying again, but he's smiling. He nods again, enthusiastically, his hair shaking wildly.
"You know I love you?" Eddie snorts.
"Yeah. Love you too." And then he's in Wayne's arms again. And Wayne just sighs. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it. The way Eddie would look at boys. But he never said a word. Knew Eddie would tell him if, and when, he was ready. And today was that day. He hugged Eddie closer and then pulled away.
"Pizza?" Wayne asks, already reaching for the phone.
"Uugghh GOD yes!!" Eddie groans, wiping at his face as he falls on the coach, Wayne smiles into the phone until there's an answer on the other line.
~°~
The fourth time it happens it's because Wayne is telling Steve secrets. Secrets that eddie had sworn him to go to the grave with. And then he breaks out the fucking photo albums, like some fucking romantic comedy. Eddie had told him he was dating Harrington about a week ago. Wayne told him they were having a family dinner on Sunday, so he could, and wayne smiles at the memory, "officially meet his boe."
Eddie had groaned at the choice of words, but his cheeks were red and his eyes were shining with delight. Wayne didn't know exactly what happened, but he knew the Harrington boy had saved his son. And he knew that he was always leaving Eddie's room just as Wayne showed up to sit with him in the hospital.
He wasn't always alone, but he was always there. And then he'd... stayed. Eddie talked about him constantly. To say Wayne was shocked that Eddie had fallen in love with a Harrington, would be an understatement. But he'd seen them together a few times, lingering glances, soft smiles, and on one occasion the dorkiest bout of laughter Wayne had ever heard come from Eddie. They were so different, but they worked.
So wayne was showing him the few baby photos he had of Eddie. Sent in the mail from his sister before she passed. One of them, his favorite, was of a four year old Eddie, sitting naked in the middle of a creek, holding a box turtle on the top of his head, his hair a curly mop, the biggest smile on his face. Wayne could hear his sisters laugh every time he looked at the photo. And he cherished it, knowing it was probably one of very few genuinely happy moments Eddie and his mother had had.
He happily points the picture out to Steve, who coos and cackles over it. Eddie falls to the floor dramatically, his face shoved into the carpet.
"Oh my gooooooddddd daaad! Seriously?!?" His voice is muffled, but Wayne hears him, smiles when Steve looks between them, Steve smiles back.
"You were so cute Eds!" Steve says gleefully, then he turns to Eddie, nugdes his toe into Eddie's thigh.
"What happened?"
Wayne laughs then. A real laugh. He laughs over Eddie's undignified squawking.
"Hey! This was supposed to be a nice dinner and now I'm under attack! It's two against one, suddenly, how's that fair!?" He flops over on the floor, looking up at both of them, crossing his arms over his chest as they both laugh at him. He's putting up a good front but there's a smile sneaking its way onto his face, and then Steve snorts while he's laughing and Eddie loses it.
All of them laugh together until they're red in the face. Eddie ends up with his hand curled around Steve's calf, Steve leaning over, his hand on Eddie's shoulder. Everytime the laughter dies down Eddie snorts, mocking Steve, and it starts all over again. Wayne laughs and watches the two boys in his kitchen, laughing and laughing and feeling at home.
~°~
It happens off and on with time of course. But the most important time it happens, for Wayne anyway, is in the Byers backyard in October.
It's 1989. Halloween day. And their backyard is decked out to the nines. But it's not Halloween they're celebrating. It's a wedding.
An illegal one. But no one attending cares about that. Not here. Not with everyone smiling, and Jonathan taking pictures. And the banner Will had drawn for them hanging against the side of the house, full of music, and bats, and dragons, and magic, and Steve and Eddie.
El tosses flower petels as she walks down the makeshift aisle, tossing them playfully above her head, Steve is waiting in front of the crowd, looking nervous in his tux. His suit jacket is black, but the shirt underneath is a bright, warm, yellow. He watches El with a smile, laughing when she tosses flowers over his head, letting them fall around him. She kisses his cheek and takes her seat, wiggling in next to Will. He smiles at her and takes her hand, giving it a squeeze.
And then the music starts. Some Dio ballad Wayne had heard a thousand times. Steve and Eddie had clamed it as their own. Eddie walks next to him, his arm looped through Wayne's, he's wearing a deep red suit, it's almost blood red, his shirt underneath is black, and the pants are jeans, deep red jeans.
Joyce had pinned his hair up on his head, loose, stray strands falling out around his head. El had made him a flower crown out of dandelions, Eddie had been wearing it since she gave it to him this morning. The yellow matched Steve's shirt perfectly.
Wayne looks at him as they walk, his smile blinding at he sees Steve. He looks beautiful. So much like his mother. And so, so happy. Wayne rests his hand over Eddie's on his arm as they walk towards Steve. Wayne smiles when Steve gives Eddie a little wave, wiggling his fingers as they move closer. Eddie giggles, it's high pitched and a little manic, and so Eddie. Wayne and Eddie stop in front of Steve and Hopper asks,
"So, who's giving the lovely bride away today?" He's wearing a gaudy Hawaiian shirt, his hair all slicked back, everyone chuckles, but Eddie sobers fast, turns to look at Wayne.
"He is. My dad is." He smiles, big and bright, and a tear falls down his cheek. Wayne wipes it away with his knuckle, his face feeling flushed from all the attention suddenly on him.
"Guess that's me." He mumbles. Steve and Eddie laugh.
"Take good care of him son. I know you will." Wayne says to Steve. Steve is already nodding. His hands wobbling at his sides and Wayne knows he's trying not to reach out to Eddie. Eddie gives Wayne a quick hug, whispers a sweet,
"Thank you. For everything." In his ear, and then he's stepping up to stand in front of steve.
There's tears. And laughter. Especially when Eddie pulls out a piece of paper and says,
"Let's see what Will came up with shall we?"
But the vows are his. Wayne knows. They're full of Eddie, his words, and his mind, his soul, and his heart. That big heart that Wayne fell in love with so damn fast.
The first time he'd watched little 6 year old Eddie pick up a bug that had gotten into the trailer and carry it outside, all the while telling the thing that it was gonna be okay, that he wouldn't hurt it. Wayne loved him so much.
But he also knew, the only other person who loved Eddie even close to how much he did, was, by some odd fucking miracle, Steve Harrington. And that's why, when Steve came asking for permission. Wayne immediately said yes. And when Steve mentioned picking out the perfect ring, needing it to be right for Eddie. Wayne had opened a box he hadn't opened in years, and he'd given Steve an old ring of Eddie's mother's.
He had planned on giving it to Eddie when he wanted to ask someone. But this was better. This was perfect. Steve had cried, and thanked him. And he'd asked Eddie to marry him three days later.
They were sitting on the roof of the trailer. Eddie was telling him stories about the stars. Steve had slipped the ring on his finger and given him a look. The watery smile Eddie gave him, along with the nodding, gave Steve his answer. He'd pulled Eddie into a kiss and that had been that.
Eddie had given him a ring a month later. A golden band, simple, with golden leaves etched into it. And on the inside.  The words "my salvation" in black. Steve had cried. It was perfect. He'd saved Eddie. In so many ways. The most important one, obviously being... literally. But there were other times too. Recovery was hard. But Steve was strong. Strong for both of them.
So Wayne watches Max carry the rings down the aisle to them on a small black pillow, watches Hopper marry them. Watches them cry, and laugh, and dance. Watches Eddie dance with Max until they're both laughing too hard to stand up straight any longer. Watches Steve and Robin dance until they're crying into each other shoulders, Eddie and Nancy dancing near by, ready to jump in if they're needed.
He watches Eddie and the family he'd found. The family that loved him. The family he'd dragged Wayne into, weather he liked it or not. And for the most part. He liked it.
He watched his son dance with his husband, and smiled to himself, his attention only moving on when Ms. Henderson sits next him at the table, her hand landing on his arm, friendly and warm.
"You did a great job with him Wayne. He's such a good boy." Her eyes are a little teary as she watches Dustin and Eddie jump around and headbang to some metal song that's come on.
"Thank you ma'am." Wayne nods, his cheeks flushing. He reaches into his pocket, hands her a hanky for her tears.
"Oh! Thank you." Wayne's not sure if he's imagining it, but she looks flushed as well.
"I don't know of you remember me or not. But we had-"
"English. Fifth period. Mrs. Fitzgerald. I remember." Wayne says immediately. His eyes widening at himself, he clears his throat and looks away when she laughs.
She's about to say something when she hears Dustin yell for her. And then she's gone, being pulled onto the dance floor by her son. Wayne sighs, watches her dance until he notices movements in his peripherals. He turns a bit, sees Steve and Eddie, their arms wrapped around each other, looking at him.
Both of them nodding toward Mrs. Henderson and making faces, Eddie tries to break away to get to Wayne but Steve holds him back with a laugh as Wayne hold his hands up. He rolls his eyes at them when they nod toward her again, grumpy little faces telling him if he doesn't do it, they will.
He takes a deep breathe, puts his hands on his knees, and pushes himself out of his seat. He takes a step onto the dance floor, towards Dustin and his mother, and his next adventure.
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formosusiniquis · 1 year
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There's something about the idea that every adult that spends more than ten minutes alone with Steve Harrington is instantly enamored with him 
The King Steve era house parties don't get broken up by the cops anymore. Steve is too far from his nearest neighbors for a noise complaint and the cops who would do it like Steve. They know they don't have to worry about any underage drinking and driving incidents after a Steve Harrington party because anyone who doesn't have a DD just crashes at the Harrington place, it's not like they have to worry about getting out of there before his parents get home.
His teachers can't help but let certain things slide. Excusing a middle school Steve's tardiness, the Harrington house is such a long bike ride away from the school and the bus route doesn't reach the grounds of Loch Nora. High School Steve's grades are average at best and his attention drifts, but his questions if poorly worded are insightful at heart and if you catch him away from the friends he tries too hard to keep he's polite and willing to spend time discussing his school work. By senior year they're excusing his tardiness again, they all know he has to swing by the middle school on his way over; and his forgetfulness too, two concussions in as many years it's a wonder he's not worse.
Joyce Byers, who by all accounts should hate this boy who fought her son and belittled her family, already has a snag in her armor thinking about a little boy who used to bike to Melvalds all alone for more milk and the sugar dusted cereal his mother didn't like him to have. Has her walls damaged by Jonathan coming home with a Christmas present they both know Nancy Wheeler even in her middle class glory couldn't afford. Has the adoption papers ready to be notarized when that same little boy, just a little bit bigger, offers to cart her Will around town since he knows she and Jon are busy and he has nothing better to do; really, and Will is the only one that ever says please or thank you.
Hopper, who largely left the everyday police work to the other officers, didn't interact with Steve much until the Upside Down business started. He's ready to add Harrington to the list of kids he'd die to protect the second the bloodstained boy cracks open a bleary eye from the Byers' sofa. Concussed and happy for it since it meant the youngest ones were safe.
Claudia Henderson has decided that the law has little to do with family. She's seen too many young men in the hospital grieving loved ones they can't see while parents who don't care make decisions for the dying. Steve Harrington is hers now has been since he did her Dusty's hair. The Sinclairs only let Erica roam the mall on her own on days they know Steve is working. They know no matter what Erica and Lucas promise the two of them aren't staying together. There's something rotten in Hawkins, and the kids don't whisper as quietly as they think they do. They know there's something they are missing, but they don't need to know everything to know they can trust the boy who put himself bodily in front of their child to protect him. Karen still occasionally mourns the loss of Steve as a son-in-law but the fact that he still drives Mike around even on his surliest days, she couldn't ask for more.
Wayne Munson lasted the longest. A product of night shifts and a powerful wariness around anyone whose tax bracket exceeds his by more than one jump. But he knows the kind of skittish that Steve is, remembers an eight year old boy with eyes he hadn't grown into who used to skitter away from a sharp tongue or raised hand just the same. Even then all it takes is sitting next to Steve on a rare night off, the game fuzzing in and out on the TV, listening to him softly explain the rules of it all to his boy relating it back to the ones of that dragon game Eddie likes so much and he's gone. Steve's a hard worker, a wage slave as much as Wayne these days, seems wrong to begrudge him just cause the house he's kept at is a little bigger than theirs. There are worse boys to have as future in-laws, even if he is a Cubs fan.
The only person who doesn't seem to get the memo is Richard Harrington. So rarely around his own son he isn't swept up in the charm. Richard and Stephanie Harrington make their way back to Hawkins, unannounced on a Tuesday. The sleepy morning hours are still lingering when they make their way into the house, through the foyer, and onto the kitchen; following the sounds of crooning oldies. Richard has long thought his son a disappointment, too lazy to get into college and too spoiled to leave home, catching him dancing around the kitchen like a fairy with some trailer trash punk is really the last straw. He lets the wife he wishes he didn't have make some asinine comment to this freak that's in his kitchen, and turns to the child he never wanted to say, "I want you out, I won't have a queer living under my roof."
Stephanie and that long haired bastard both rear back like they've been slapped. While Richard is forced to watch as the son he's neglected straightens up, every ounce the man every other adult on Hawkins has watched him become, look him in the eye and say, "It's not your house, it never was. Grandpa Otis left it to me. So if you've got a problem with me or my fucking boyfriend, you can get out of my house. Looks like you're already packed."
That empty house gets emptier as Richard, alone, takes the furniture he paid for and the clothes that lingered in the closet; but it's quickly filled with the hand-me-downs of everyone who has ever fallen for that Harrington charm. They're all too happy to help Steve fill what's his.
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sinsinsininning · 3 months
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Can i request a luffy x fem reader who's his childhood best friend and they're both as dumb and hyperactive as each other (she followed and stayed him when he started his pirate journey) and they also like each other but arent together and theyre just two puppies in love
I love dumb idiot x dumb idiot, with a smidgen of oblivious mutual pining. I’m keeping this to pre time skip and kinda vague timeline wise. Keeping this as SFW since you didn’t specify just to be safe.
Hope you like it ✨
—————
You’d grown up attached to his hip, returning with him to Dandan’s house after saving him from drowning. He’d fallen off a bridge he’d made and into the fast river, his elder brothers, Sabo and Ace, rushed to help him. But you’d been faster, watching the trio from the shore and being a great swimmer/fisherman.
His brothers had been so grateful they’d offered you protection and dinner at their home, your own family was broken up by war and violence just like theirs so you accepted. And while Dandan hadn’t been happy about another mouth to feed, she’d thought having a young girl around would help the three wild boys settle down and act better.
It didn’t.
Everyone was dismayed to learn you were just as crazy as Luffy and equally stupid. Though you both had your brilliant moments and emotional intelligence, time and time again proved that though wisdom was chasing you, you were faster.
That’s how it’s been as kids, your adventures so intertwined Luffy couldn’t remember a time you weren’t by his side. Even Garp mistakenly called you his grandkid half the time and never held back his training or punishment on you either.
As you got older, your ambition remained unchange. You wanted to see Luffy become King of the Pirates, which is why you were the first to join his crew. Over time as your crew gained more members, you were a steady pillar of loyalty.
Loyal to your crew, your captain, and your captain’s stupid ass.
Some examples of your daily hourly conversations:
“If you could only eat one food for forever what woul-“
“Meat.” Luffy cut you off.
“Too broad be more specific.” You smack his chest lightly, it’s late at night and you’re both stargazing on the main deck.
“Cooked meat.” Luffy said after thinking a moment. “You?”
“Hmmm Ice cream. Or potatoes.”
“Mmmm now I’m hungry. Lets ask Sanji for a snack.” Puffy starts to stand but you yank him back down.
“Can’t remember, he’s still mad at us for putting a regular carrot in the bin with the baby carrots so they’d have adult supervision.” You laugh together as he lays still, the only time he can be still is if it’s with you.
Or.
“Nothing to see here,” You whistle lowly, trying to keep Nami’s attention on you as you whiddle. “Love being normal. Peak ordinary! That’s me, heh no problems here. No one’s ever been this average.”
“Are you sick or so- GODDAMN IT LUFFY!” She cuts herself off to try and whack your captain on the head, but it was too late, he’d already grabbed her slice of cake and ran off. The red head throws her book at you as you follow after him.
He saved you a forkful, the rest was gone the second he started running, but for you. For you he saved a bit.
Or.
“We didn’t come here to make friends.” Zoro says as he holds his blade to an enemy captain after a short skirmish.
“We came here to make Best Friends.” You interjected.
“Yeah!” Luffy gave you a thumbs up.
“Shut up you idiots or I’ll slice you!” Poor Zoro’s blood pressure was insane with the two of you.
Or.
“I’m not surprised you’ve gotten a bounty.” Garp sighs, tired eyes locked on Luffy. “But I expected better from you!” He rounds on you, shoving his finger in your face accusingly.
“Shishishi! Well that’s your own fault, nothing to do with me.” You and Luffy laugh as Garp chases after you. The old man doesn’t miss the way, Luffy looks back to ensure you’re still stride for stride with him or the way he takes the heated blows aimed for you.
But.
Overtime, your feelings are softer and softer for him, but you have no clue what this means. You notice the little things he does for you, the things he’s always done for you only. You watch him listen intently to Sanji’s flirting advice -that no one really asked for- and try not to feel weird about it. It’s only when Nami finally just announces that you’re both in love that you finally understand. A little.
“Duh.” Luffy says when she tells the crew.
“Yeah of course we love each other.” You agree wholeheartedly, but a small part of you wonders if that’s what she meant. Your suspicions are confirmed when she groans exhaustedly.
“No, you guys are IN love with each other.” Ussop says, trying to help her out.
“Huh.” Luffy says contemplating it, you don’t say anything for once. You don’t feel embarrassed, you never do really, but you do feel curious and warm. “Like married people?”
“Jumping the gun a little there, but yeah.” Nami says, feeling a little accomplished now.
“I don’t know about that.” You answer honestly, cocking your head as you literally roll the idea around in your mind. Luffy isn’t glaring at you, he couldn’t glare, but he’s certainly making a face.
“It makes sense.” Luffy announces, staring hard at you. “I mean I don’t wanna marry Hancock.”
“But you know that doesn’t mean you wanna marry each other.” Ussop interjects.
“Yeah it does, she just needs to ask.” Luffy says like it’s obvious, which frustrates his crew, except you and Robin of course. You aren’t even shocked by his answer, it did make sense, you didn’t want to date Sanji despite him asking multiple times. But if Luffy asked you wouldn’t say no.
“Luffy you know it’s traditional for the man to ask the woman, right?” Robin asks gently, though she knows the answer.
“Huh? Then why is Hancock always asking me?” Luffy looks to you for an answer, you shrug just as confused as him.
“No clue, i don’t think I’ve ever met a married person now that I think about it.”
“Huh me either, I’ve never noticed. Shishishi.” You and him laugh again, but this time his hand entwines with yours.
“God you’re impossible.” Nami shouts, stomping off.
“Those two are made for each other.” Ussop rolls his eyes as you and Luffy start talking about wether it would be better to be a bird or a fish.
“Yes, isn’t it lovely.” Robin sighs as she watches you.
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written-in-flowers · 1 year
Text
A Different World: Gwinam x Reader
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Pairing: Yoon Gwinam x Plussize!fem!Reader
Genre: Smut. So much Smut. Minors DNI please
Word Count: 12k
Rating: M....very much M, explicit
Summary: Before the outbreak, you never thought you had a chance with Yoon Gwinam, and he thought the same about you. But, once you've both come into a new state of being, a "hambie", suddenly sexual fantasies don't stay fantasies.
Tags: Fat Shaming, Bullying, Toxic Friendships, Dom/sub, Light Sadism, Light Masochism, Spanking, Pulic Masturbation, Masturbation in bathroom, Mutual pining, blood and gore, blood kink, spit kink, rape fantasy, thigh worship, body worship, rough sex, rough oral sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), anal sex, rimming, anal fingering, face slapping, facials, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms (m. and f.), multiple positions, no breaks, they're both fucking pervs and so horny for each other, kind of a forbidden romance? well, until all their friends die anyways. ****
You fixed your shirt for the millionth time that morning. You hated how your stomach and chest lightly pushed on the clear buttons of your shirt; it made you look fatter tucked into your skirt. The skirt is a different breed of annoying. Your thick thighs used to chafe from rubbing together throughout the day. You usually pull on gym pants if it becomes too much, but deodorant sticks and your thigh high stockings make it easier to bear. Other girls can wear the pants without a word; you, the chubby one, can't. You hoped the shirt did not pop open from the stretch. The laundry schedule at home meant you'd have at least one day with the smaller school shirt. Fixing it again, you decided to button your blazer over it for now. When you get to class, you can unbutton it to breathe before doing it again.
"Stop doing that. You're going to make it worse," Hyejin said from beside you. "You should've gotten a larger size."
"The store didn't carry any more of it," you admitted quietly. "I need to go there later to see if they have them again."
Choi Hyejin, small and narrow, was one of the two people you're certain you hate. A petite, brown haired girl from an upper class family, she carried the haughty air and snotty opinions of the high society she came from. Had you two not grown up together, you're sure you'd be her favorite punching bag. But since your fathers worked together, and your mothers ran in the same social circles, she resorted to backhanded compliments like this.
"Or you can have it tailored like my brother did," said the girl on your left.
Slender and tall, Kim Soomin was part of the girl's volleyball team and well liked in the athletic scene. Her black hair tied back in a long plait, she wore her volleyball jacket over her uniform, which made her look broader but slimmer at the same time. Another girl from an affluent family, you and her became close on your first day of primary school. That is where your trio-friendship forged, and where it would remain until the end of time. Soomin didn't discourage you like Hyejin did, but you knew why she hung out with you. It's the same reason they both did:
They look hotter when compared to you. Because even with Hyejin's hooked nose and Soomin's height, at least they're not fat.
"I suppose, but my mom might say no," you told her, holding your books to your chest. "She'll just tell me to lose weight."
"Then why don't you? It'd be better for your health, if anything. It can’t be that hard.”
The false concern for your health stabbed another hole in you. Hyejin and Soomin might not be ideal friends, but it was certainly better than having none. With at least these two, you avoided the cruel, harsh bullying you often witnessed happen to others. If Choi Hyejin and Kim Soomin liked you, then you must be cool. However, the trade off is the occasional 'you're fat and that's why your life sucks' discussion. You knew they didn’t actually care if you lost any weight. The longer you remained fat, the better they’d continue to look in comparison. In your mind’s eye, you saw all the boys who flirted with Hyejin at school. They ignored you completely. Not that you cared. Only one boy in Hyoson High School caught your attention, and he’d never notice you. Not in a million years.
"You can always come to the school gym with me!” said Soomin. “I don't mind having a partner and the coach won't say anything about it."
"No thanks. I hate gyms. I always feel people are watching me."
"Nobody watches you, YN," Hyejin scoffed. "They don't care as much as you think they do."
You wanted to tell her that a fat girl in a gym often attracted some kind of torment, but the words caught in your throat. Looking up the path leading into school, you spotted him. Yoon Gwinam. A tall boy with black hair that reached his neck, he wore the school shirt open with a black sweater underneath, likely to fight off the chill. Long limbs made him look longer and broader. You often imagined him completely encapsulating you in a hug, your head on his shoulder and hearing his heart beating. Your heart fluttered seeing him standing in the distance with his friends. He stood, chuckling and smiling when one of them made a joke. You wished it was you making him smile like that. You’d do anything to see it up close. Gwinam is a tough guy; you’ve seen him beat up people with little effort. The sort of guy who’d protect you and care for you above everyone else; the guy whose heart would only melt for you. No guy you’d managed to date treated you the way you wanted.
“-We did it by that old railroad track outside the train stations,” Hyejin’s story broke into your thoughts as you walked. Your eyes kept focusing on Gwinam, leaning against a building near the school. Absent-mindedly, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, thinking it made you more attractive. “I love it when they groan. It’s super hot when a guy is vocal.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” Soomin laughed. “Especially since he’s dating Aro.”
“Aro should take better care of her man then, if you know what I mean.”
You tuned out Hyejin’s recount, and thought of saying something Gwinam as you walked by. ‘Hey Gwinam’. ‘Morning Gwinam’. ‘Gwinam, please rip off my panties, and fuck me hard.’ No, the last one is a bit too much. Besides, if Soomin and Hyejin saw you talking to him, they’d ask why you did. His reputation around school wasn’t very good; he hung around with bullies who picked on people weaker than them. Yet, it was this bad reputation that made you want him more. You didn’t want to “fix” him. You wanted him as he was, meanness and all. You couldn’t really explain it. Something about him attracted you, and they wouldn’t understand.
“Are you still talking to him?” asked Soomin, amused. “Or have you already thrown him away?”
“Nah, we’re still talking,” she said. Of course they were. You knew Hyejin would eventually forget about her newest conquest and move onto someone else. “He said he can’t get enough of me.”
“Oh my god, you’re so bad.”
The thought of Gwinam only wanting sex from you crossed your mind. It was why most guys approached you: they thought heavy girls are desperate and will sleep with them for crumbs of affection. Normally you reject these guys, since high school boys like to brag. Yet, if Gwinam ever showed interest, you’d crumble immediately. If you put out for any guy in school, it’d be him. Deep down, you sensed he enjoyed the kind of sex you did…At least, in your fantasies he did.
“You know, YN, he’s got a pretty cute friend,” she told you. “I mean, he’s not Namjoon hot, but he’s okay looking. He’s definitely your type. I could set you up-YN? Are you listening?”
“Huh? What?”
Hyejin looked between you and where Gwinam stood and let out a soft laugh. “Oh my god, no way,” she teased, “You’re actually checking out Yoon Gwinam?”
“What?! No,” you defended instantly. “I wasn’t looking at him at all.”
“He’s a jerk, YN,” said Soomin. “He’s a bully. How could you like a guy that bullies people?”
“He’s also a total idiot,” added Hyejin.
“I wasn’t looking at him,” you repeated firmly, heat rising in your cheeks. “He’s just…He’s in my eyeline, that’s all.”
“He’s not even a cute bully,” said Soomin. “You know, like the guys in the dramas. He’s ugly. He’s got a weird face shape.”
You wanted to hit her. Gwinam is by no means ugly. You liked his face, his body, his hair, and everything else. In your daydreams, he liked your body too. He’d spend ages telling you how beautiful he thinks you are, and how much you turn him on.
“Not to mention that ugly haircut,” Hyejin scoffed. “Besides, I wouldn’t bother. It’s not like he’d be into you.”
“Hyejin,” Soomin said carefully. “Don’t be so mean.”
“I’m not being mean. I’m being honest,” she retorted. “Guys like him are total assholes. He’d probably laugh at you and walk away if you confessed.”
“I won’t confess because there’s nothing to confess.”
It pained you to admit it, but Hyejin was right. Gwinam would never like a girl like you. You looked at him one more time as you came closer. He didn't even look your way. Why should he? There’s nothing special about you. Guys never looked at you; why should he be any different? You walked past his group, and your eyes met him for a split second. You quickly turned away before he noticed you. It made your cheeks burn more, simply having him acknowledge you for a second even if he thought nothing of you.
“Ugh, so gross,” Soomin huffed.
“The dude’s a walking red flag. You should like someone else,” Hyejin smiled slowly, “Like Lee Suhyeok. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
Yes, Suhyeok was the handsome, friendly guy any sane girl would like. Yet, you didn’t. You found it difficult when you compared him to Gwinam, who checked all your boxes. Your fondness for bad boys will eventually come back to bite you, you know. It was best for everyone if you kept it to yourself.
“Gosh, I’d kill to get a slice of him,” Hyejin sighed.
“But he’s not into you,” you said to her. A little dig into her made you feel good. “He likes someone else, I heard.”
“That’s because he hasn’t gotten with me yet,” she replied with a sly smile.
“Maybe he doesn’t want to get with you because you fuck any guy who gives you attention,” you heard yourself say to her. You instantly gasped and Soomin laughed out loud. “Oh, um, well, I mean maybe-”
“-Maybe ‘what’? At least guys actually look at me, unlike you. Namjoon told me he and his friends have a bet going, you know,” she spat back. “Yeah, to see who could bag The Pig. He told me to introduce you to his friend, since he said if he wins, he’d split the money with us. Want to know what I said? I said ‘no’ because I’m a good friend.”
“What?” Your throat dried up at that confession. It was always your worst fear: a guy showing interest as a dare from his friends. “So, you were going to set me up with someone who means to play a prank on me?”
“Oh, come on, like you’re that dumb. I told him you wouldn’t fall for it. He’d have to try really hard since you always get all weird when you like a guy.”
“But you still knew,” you stopped walking, and gripped your books tightly. “You were still going to go through with it just so some asshole keeps liking you.”
You wanted to hit her. You wanted to call her every name in the book, and smack her until you drew blood. She thought herself so above you and Soomin. You pictured yourself literally knocking her down a size. Your nails dug into the soft cover of your textbooks, so tight your knuckles burned. Images of you sitting in a restaurant, waiting on a guy who might never come, tightened your chest. You hated her.
“I was going to tell you,” she said, “Stop being so dramatic. It’s not like you’ll go through with it. You chicken out every time a guy comes onto you. I told you about it just now, didn’t I? See, I’m a good friend to you and you say mean things to me. I was only looking out for you.”
She turned on her heel and continued walking. Soomin stayed behind for a moment, seeing your eyes glare at Hyejin’s back. “YN?” she came to you cautiously, “YN, we gotta go to class.”
Why were you friends with her? Why were you friends with either of them? You knew why. Because it was better to be friends with them, taking the licks, than not having friends at all.
“YN-”
“-Fuck off,” you hissed at her before leaving her side.
You blinked back the tears building up in her eyes. Going into the school with teary eyes might attract more attention than you’d like. Crying in front of people showed weakness. You couldn’t let people know you’re weak because then you’d become a target too. Walking away from the school pathway, you ended up in the construction site beside the main building. You aren’t sure what the school planned to make the building, but that didn’t matter to you. The half finished, concrete building remained abandoned during the day time. Nobody will hear you crying. You walked until the sounds of the other students faded into nothingness.
You’re a joke to them. You’re the dumb, ugly fat friend who they can look at when they feel bad about themselves. Every rude word, every mean comment from everyone in your life came rushing back to you. Your mother scolded you for eating more than you should. Your father said he was glad because then he didn’t have to worry about boys coming to his door. Hyejin liked pointing out the flaws in your outfits and Soomin constantly offered unsolicited health advice. You doubted this “friend” of Namjoon’s would actually like you. Not even the boys you’d gone out with before liked you. They always shift uncomfortably or tell you to keep it a secret. God forbid their friends should find out they liked the fat girl.
You collapsed against a bare, concrete wall and looked outside a window frame. Fresh air blew past the window, only just brushing the window sill you leaned against. You forced yourself to enjoy the free air to drown out the pain festering inside you. Visions of beating every single person in your life passed like a movie reel. You briefly imagined Hyejin getting into an accident that disfigures her pretty face forever; you pictured your mother finally dying and being free of her hateful words. Why couldn’t people just let you live?
As you stood there thinking, your favorite daydream came back. Gwinam is your boyfriend, and he hears what Hyejin said to you and what Namjoon’s friends planned to do, and beats them all up for you. In this daydream, you have a protector who adores you; who loves you as you are. A Gwinam who’d burn down the world for you; who’d bring ultimate pain to anyone who hurt you. You knew this Gwinam did not exist, but you comforted yourself with the fantasy anyways. Wiping your eyes, hoping the redness won’t be noticeable, sudden footsteps from the next room made you jump. You listened closely and realized it was multiple people.
“I told you to have the money with you.”
The familiar voice of Gwinam sent shivers down your body. You didn’t know who he’d come with, but you guessed it was his gang of bullies. Visions of what they might do if they caught you in the building, weeping and weak, and you pressed yourself against the wall. You could stay there until they left, or maybe you could sneak out through the window. But, the temptation guided you to the nearby hole in the wall meant to be a doorway. You rarely get a chance to watch Gwinam undisturbed this way. Usually, you’re with one of your friends or in a crowded room, and someone might see you. These moments didn’t come very often, so you seized it. Quietly, you walked to the door nearby and peeked one eye into the main room.
There he was, standing a few feet from a short, skinny boy. You immediately recognized the boy as Park Jisung, a boy from your homeroom. Jisung cowered away from Gwinam, who had him cornered in the empty room. Gwinam looked at Jisung the way a cat looked at a mouse. Your eyes scanned over his long frame; you pictured him standing front of you with the same stare. If you wanted anyone to bully you, it’d be Gwinam.
“I’m-I’m sorry, Gwinam,” Jisung gave a bow, shaking and nervous. “I’ll bri-bring it tomorrow.”
“But I need it today,” he said. He sighed, “Guys like you really fucking piss me off.”
‘Yes. Yes, get pissed off. Make him regret it,’ your darkest fantasies screamed. You pushed yourself against the wall, heat starting to flare up in your body despite the cold wall. ‘Hit him. Hurt him. Hit me. Hurt me.’
“I’m sorry, Gwinam! If you give me a little bit of time, I’ll get you the money. I promise. My parents didn’t have any to-”
“-I don’t care,” he said. “Fucking asshole.”
You flinched as Gwinam’s hand slapped Jisung across the face. Jisung stumbled to the side. Psh, weakling. He didn’t even hit that hard. You looked at Gwinam’s face, anger rising in him as he smacked Jisung around more. If only he did that to you. You clenched your thighs together watching him swing his long arms in each slap. Once Jisung hit the ground, Gwinam’s kicks began harsher and deeper. He looked so hot. Being angry or scared brought out a person’s true nature; Gwinam liked hurting people, and you liked watching him hurt people. You liked how Gwinam threw Jisung around like a rag doll, smacking and kicking him. You thought of him doing the same to you. Guys like Gwinam made you feel small and weak, despite your heaviness. You bit your lower lip thinking of those hands pinning you to the ground, leaving bruises around them for later. He’d throw you on the ground, tear open your shirt to bite and slap your tits before fucking you. No foreplay. No gentleness or kindness. You’d be wet from his ferocity alone.
“Piece of shit,” Gwinam growled.
“What a loser,” you heard one of his friends laugh.
Your body slowly began grinding into the side of the doorway. Nobody would see you in the dimness, surely. They’re preoccupied with Jisung, who wept and begged them to stop. Your pussy pulsed watching Gwinam kick and stomp on him. You stuck your hand underneath your skirt, carefully running your fingers over your sex. It’d have to be quick, but watching Gwinam in the flesh this way made you wetter. Tightness built between your thighs, that familiar arousal burning as your fingers trailed over your slit. The chilling wall caused your nipples to harden, and you thought of Gwinam’s mouth on them. He’d bite and suck as his cock grinded into your pussy. You’d grip his shoulders and arms, nails clawing his flesh as he teased you.
You’d let him take you however he wished. You’d be his personal fuck toy; a thing only made to pleasure him.
“Psh, pathetic motherfucker,” Gwinam spat at Jisung. He crouched down and lifted his head by the hair.
You bit down on your lip as you circled your clit. His tongue swirls around it greedily, gripping your thighs hard and growling from the taste. He stood Jisung up to his feet. He’d do the same to you. He’d laugh at you for getting so wet so easily; he’d call you a whore, smack you one more time, before continuing the sexual torture. Maybe he’d do what he did to Min Eunji once. He’d grab a marker and write filthy words on your body, on your clothes, so people knew you belonged to him. Screw what your friends thought. This is your fantasy, not theirs. Your lips grew wetter, and you pushed your panties aside. You started rubbing yourself quicker. A slew of dirty thoughts came as Jisung groaned, and coughed.
Gwinam spanking your ass until it becomes tender and hot.
Gwinam spitting in your mouth, then calling you a filthy bitch for doing it.
Gwinam tying you to his bed at home and leaving you there for whenever he gets horny.
The climax hits you hard with the usual scene: Gwinam chasing you through a forest, feral and high on adrenaline, until he gets his hands on you. You rode it out on your hand as you pictured him fucking you like an animal. His teeth gritted, his muscles tense and tight, and his cock shooting cum over your face and breasts. It’d hurt, but you’d love that. Your juices coated your fingers, and you shivered as you came down into your post-orgasm glow. Gwinam finished beating up Jisung, who tearfully ran away when Gwinam and his friends let him go. Panting, running his hands through his hair, Gwinam stood there a moment while his friends left the building. You continued circling your sensitive nub, wishing you could go for a second time. The bold fantasy of you offering yourself to him right then crossed your mind, but no, you’d never do that. Then, the unthinkable happened.
Gwinam saw you. He’d turned his head casually; you supposed he’d done it to check if anyone had seen him, and spotted you in the other room. You froze in place, quickly withdrawing your hand from your panties. Due to the angle, Gwinam didn’t see your lower half, but him having seen you was enough. Dark eyes swept down the parts of your body he could see. What if he suspected what you’d done? What if he’d heard you and purposefully prolonged the beatdown? You gasped and whipped your body around out of sight. You worried he might confront you. You held back a whimper imagining him coming over to you, sticking his hands in your panties, and telling you how naughty you’ve been.
‘Insatiable slut. You can’t even wait until we’re alone to touch yourself for me. Do it again. Now.’
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. You heard Gwinam’s friend call out to him, and you heard him leave. In reality, he’d never want to touch you. He’ll no doubt go to his friends and tell them what he suspected. They’ll taunt and tease you forever about it. Soomin and Hyejin would be disgusted with you, because even if you disliked them, they’re all you have. On wobbly legs, you picked up your things and left the construction site.
Your fantasies will always be exactly that. Fantasies. Nothing more.
How did you do it? How did you catch his attention when nothing else does? How do you make this entire world slow down when you walk past him? Any time Gwinam saw you, he swore everything around him stopped for you. Most girls at school didn’t have that effect on him. They were too skinny or too annoying. Gwinam liked girls with soft curves that made him drool. You are such a girl. The briefest of glances from you haunt him throughout the rest of the day. That small twinkle of acknowledgement sent him into a stunned silence for several seconds, if not minutes. So, to see you in that half-finished building, breathless and clutching the wall, inspired a fresh series of fantasies. He thought of going up to you in that building, pulling down your panties and shoving himself inside you. You’d stay up against that wall, shirt open and tits bouncing, as he pumped his cum into you. He loved your tits. And your thighs. He liked peeking at them during class. The desk always stopped just underneath them so he had a nice view. Lord knows what he’d do if you sat beside him. He’d leave class with wet fingers every day.
But, sadly, those dirty thoughts would never come to be. A smart, clever girl who always did well would never want an idiot like him. Girls like you wanted handsome, smart guys like Suhyeok. Gwinam is forced to live with thoughts of you in his arms in his dreams. You must be so soft. You always smell nice too. He’s noticed it before; it’s a flowery perfume that drew him to you. He thought of your laugh as he walked towards school with Myunghwa and the others. He wished he could be the one making you laugh. Visions of kissing you, walking hand-in-hand with you, and being with you clouded his mind. He’d be good to you. Gwinam wasn’t kind very often, but he’d treat you so well. He’d give you anything you wanted; do anything you asked of him.
He’d hurt someone for you, if you wished it.
The group entered the school before classes began, and Gwinam caught sight of you rushing past them. A hint of floral perfume hit his nose, causing him to breathe it deeply. He noticed you heading towards the bathrooms. He smirked. You must’ve made such a mess. Too bad he isn’t there to lick you clean. He shook the image of your soaked pussy from his head when Myunghwa smacked the nape of his neck.
“-Are you listening to me?” the short boy asked him irritably.
“Huh? Yeah, I was.”
Myunghwa scoffed disbelievingly. “Fucking idiot,” he said, “You never pay attention.”
“He was checking out Park YN,” Changhoon, another part of their group, smirked. “I can’t believe you like that fattie. She’s not even pretty in the face.”
“I wasn’t checking her out,” Gwinam said defensively. “I wouldn’t touch her even if she was the last girl on earth.” He considered the feeling might be mutual. You’d never truly like him. If you were doing what he thought, it must’ve been for someone else. The idea alone boiled his blood. “She’s ugly.”
No, you’re not. You’re beautiful. So beautiful. He thought of the other day when he saw you in the library. You often go there during lunch to catch up on homework or to read quietly. You liked reading, he noticed. You’d sat beside a window, and he admired how the sun caught in your hair, illuminating your face. He put the image to memory for those tough nights at home. Whenever his dad called him useless or his mom shook her head in disappointment, he pictured you in that chair. You’d lift your head, smile, and tell him he’s not a waste of space. You’d encourage and lift his spirits up…and he’d kiss you. He thought of your lips and the cherry lip balm he spotted in your bag. They must taste so good.
And he’d never have them. He’d never have you. He’s not supposed to like girls like you. He’s supposed to like skinny, pretty girls like your friends. Yet, those girls didn’t excite him like you did.
Myunghwa went on with some story about how someone mentioned his name in Jinsu’s disappearance. The police went to his house to question him. Gwinam wanted to tell him they’d done the same to him and the others. It’s not their fault Jinsu made it so easy for them; he never fought back until that night. Gwinam recalled the way his body hit the sign, hit a balcony, before finally crashing into the alleyway. He’d never seen a dead person before. He’d been sure that the police might arrest him. They could’ve found fingerprints on Jinsu’s skin or caught him on camera somehow. Yet, they’d done the opposite. They believed the story of them having been out in the street and nowhere near Jinsu’s last location.
Gwinam walked into class on his own, and spotted you in your usual seat next to him. You shared a desk space with your friend, Soomin, but his desk was across the aisle. He bit the inside of his lip seeing you crossed your legs under your desk. A small peek of your thigh high stocking stirred more dirty images in his mind. He liked how a bit of pudge went over the stocking bands; if he ever got his hands on those thighs, he’d lose his mind. He took his seat nearby and did his best to not look at you. He thought about the construction site again, picturing you fingering yourself to him and cumming hard on your pretty fingers. He shifted his gaze slightly to see your chest exactly where he knew it’d be. The combined picture of your thighs and your breasts caused him to swallow thickly and look elsewhere. He’d die of embarrassment if he got a hardon in class, but how could he ignore such a sensual sight?
As Mr. Lee, their science teacher, began class when Gwinam noticed you starting to pull off your blazer. Logic and reason said you must be hot, considering you’re sitting near the windows. But his horny, perverted mind said you were taking it off for him. You wore a tight shirt today, so it showed off the curves of your bosom and tummy. His jaw dropped when he spotted a white strap through the fabric. Your bra, he hoped. He quickly thought of you in his lap, wearing nothing but your skirt and stockings. No bra. No panties.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he dared a chance to look at it. A message from Myunghwa.
‘Wow, you got it bad for her, huh? Bet she’d crush you if she got on top.’
He clenched his jaw and put the phone away. Whenever he felt a new fantasy coming on, his friends ruined it for him. He wished he could sit closer. He wished he could talk to you, and only you. You’re so smart. You answer Mr. Lee’s questions without hesitation and so eloquently. Your friends might be pretty, but they’re complete airheads. You’re the intelligent one. The intelligent one with pretty lips and eyes that made him melt.
Gwinam went through absolute torture during class. Not even amusing himself by bullying Eunji distracted him. Seeing the buttons between your tits stretch from the size, he knew he’d have plenty of jerk-off scenarios tonight.
‘Gwinam? Could you help me with my shirt? It’s so tight and uncomfortable. Please, take it off me.’
He squeezed his eyes tightly and bit his tongue as the signal for lunch rang through the school.
‘The cold’s making my nipples hard. Would you warm them with your mouth? They’re so hard and my hands aren’t as warm as your tongue.’
Fucking hell. Gwinam stood up from his desk before you did, and decided a walk to the cafeteria might clear his head.
‘Oh, Gwinam, your cock’s so big-’
Fuck. No.
‘-Put it between my tits, and fuck them. I want to make you cum using my soft, huge tits.’
He pushed into a bathroom stall, locked the door and started unbuckling his pants.
‘God, they just swallow your dick. I can’t wait for you to cum all over them. I love cum. I want you to cum on me. Please, Gwinam, cover me in your yummy cum.’
His dick throbbed in his hand in every stroke. His eyes closed and he thought about you in the construction building. He thought of catching you touching yourself, and taking advantage of your vulnerable position. Gwinam pictured himself tearing off your clothes, exposing your luscious body, and tasting every inch of you. You’d struggle at first, pleading and whimpering for him to stop, but you’d soon give into him. Gwinam focused on the image of you riding him to climax. Your tight walls clenched hard around him as he rubbed his thumb over your clit; your breasts bouncing in his face until he suckled on one of them. The thought made him cum within minutes. That’s what you did to him. He wished you didn’t have such a fierce hold on him. He wished he didn’t desire you so much, but he couldn’t help it. He’d become completely blind to any other woman he met. He only wanted you.
Coming down from his orgasm, he cleaned himself up and decided to head to the cafeteria. He felt refreshed having gotten you out of his system. He wondered if he might see you there or if you’d go to the library again today. He didn’t care which one. He’d have to keep his leering to a minimum now that Myunghwa saw him looking at you. He came up with explanations to why he’d been looking your way, but none of them sounded convincing. When he entered the cafeteria, he did see you there. You stood in line with Soomin. You’d put your blazer back on, which dampened his spirits a bit. But then again, it might be good for him. He’d only just finished rubbing one out to you. He can’t do it twice in such a short amount of time.
He got into the line two people behind you, and looked at his phone instead. Myunghwa and Changsoon taunted him over what they’d seen in class. They made fun of you, talking about how your buttons must be holding on for dear life or telling him to be careful as you might break his bed getting into it. He wanted to kill them. He didn’t care if they talked badly about other girls; he didn’t want them talking badly about you. But, rather than tell them off, he joined in the conversation.
‘Kekeke, she probably jiggles around like jello.’
This amused them. Yet, he looked at you as the line moved. You styled your hair differently. Usually, you wore it tied back from your face, but today it flowed freely around your face. Gwinam did not have a particularly favorite look; he loved anything you wore or did to yourself. He watched you chat with Soomin. By your annoyed gaze and clenched jaw, he assumed you’re arguing quietly. No doubt your “friend” Choi Hyejin said something to upset you, and Soomin defended her. He often overheard you three talking at lunch or in class. He liked the sound of your voice, so sue him. Hyejin in particular liked putting you down, and you let her. Just like how he let Myunghwa talk down to him.
He shoved the person in front of him out of the way, stepping to them when they protested until they backed off.
“-She didn’t mean anything by it. She only meant that you’re not that good with guys, so she was trying to help,” Soomin said to you as you started down the line. “She didn’t know Namjoon planned anything until he said it.”
“Whatever.”
“Oh, YN, you know Hyejin cares about you. I do too.”
“Okay.”
You shut down. Whatever Soomin said to you left you defeated. He thought of pushing Soomin aside and holding you close. Whatever prank or mean thing Hyejin said to you would be smothered away by his kisses. He grabbed a tray, and began going down the line with you. Seeing your cold stare, and how you avoided Soomin’s gaze, you’d gotten locked inside your head. It happened to him a lot too. Whenever Myunghwa insulted or hit him, or whenever his father called him a worthless piece of shit, he’d sink into the dark, lonely place in his mind. If only he could pull you from it, then you would never feel pain again. Soomin must’ve given up trying to reach you, because then she scoffed and walked away to sit down. This left a gap between you and him. He thought about what he’d just done in the bathroom, and wished he’d taken you with him. As you reached the end of the line, the both of you reached for a pair of utensils at the same time.
“Oh, sorry,” you said timidly. “I didn’t…I’m sorry, I…”
“It’s okay,” he said, picking up one of the wrapped pairs to hand to you, “Here.”
“Thank you.”
Oh, your eyes. He never gave them enough appreciation. So much innocence and sweetness shined from them, yet they hid something much darker within. He could tell. He wanted to say more, but what? Rarely did he get this close to you. He was always worried someone might see and make fun of him for it. But, there’s nobody who matters around him. He saw you turn away from him shamefully. No doubt you’re remembering what happened on the construction site. When he did not look away from you, you squeaked out:
“I won’t tell anyone what I saw. I promise.”
Did you think he’d hurt you? “Good,” he said, bending down to your ear, “I won’t tell anyone what I saw either. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”
What in the hell was he doing? Trying to scare you away? He mentally kicked himself when he spotted your widening eyes. He watched you scurry away from him like a mouse, and it left him disheartened. He couldn’t help himself, could he? What did he think you’d say to that? Gwinam bit his tongue again, then went to sit with the gang. He forced himself not to look at you. Looking at you in front of the guys meant more teasing. He only liked one kind of teasing, and it was the teasing he got from you.
You woke up with a gasp. Your heart hammered in your ears, and suddenly you croaked in pain. You felt as if someone dislodged your bones, then put them back into place. Heat burned behind your eyes, and briefly you smelled blood all around you. Hunger. A distinct hunger rumbled in your body, but something inside you fought it back. Your mind went back and forth between this limbo of cravings and denials before you paused all together. You blinked your eyes a few times as your vision cleared.
It took several moments for you to register that you were soaked to the bones on the cafeteria floor. All around you, you hear gargled snarling and sharp hissing sounds. You heard feet shuffling or skidding across the floor; the cracking of bones made you flinch every time it sounded in the room. You kept your eyes closed, hoping if you open them, you’ll be back home in your bed. But, no you weren’t. You knew you weren’t.
Sitting up, you felt a distinct soreness in your neck, shoulder, stomach and arm. You looked down at your shaking hands to see them stained with blood. You found more of it on your uniform and stockings. You took deep breaths as you spotted the deep, crimson stain on your left forearm. Gingerly, you pulled up your sleeve to see a bite mark deep in your flesh. It looks fresh, as if it’d never healed. But, when you touched it, you felt no pain. The same was said for the scratches and bites on your stomach, the injuries having slashed through your shirt. You pressed down on the mark on your neck, only to hear the squishing of severed flesh. Curious, you poked your pinky into a hole in your neck, feeling no pain whatsoever. How could this be?
“Am I dead?”
You stared around the empty cafeteria. The people who’d been there had not escaped. The blood stains on the walls, windows, floors and tables told you as much. The creatures who’d once been classmates must’ve attacked the others, turning them into beasts as well. But, why had that not happened to you? You jumped suddenly when the gnashing, guttural sounds came from behind you. Your eyes widened in shock. Hyejin. At least, what was left of her. Hyejin, once dainty and posh, now cracked her neck this way and that as she snapped her jaws like a turtle. You saw her front covered in blood, more of it smeared around her mouth and on her hands. Blood red eyes instantly locked with yours. You let out a scream as she rushed towards you, hands outstretched and clawing for you. You shielded yourself in a fetal position, ready to be devoured by her, before you realized she wasn’t touching you. Hyejin, reeking of rotting flesh, only hunched a few inches from you. You heard her sniffing the air around her. She moved her head side to side, still biting and growling as drool came from her yellowed teeth. But, she did not touch you.
Soon, Hyejin backed away. She jolted upright, and began moving from you to the center of the room. You realized she was not the only one in the room. Other students who’d sat in the cafeteria now jerked and stumbled around. You stood up, almost slipping on the wet floors, and waited for one of them to notice you. But, none of them did. They should be charging at you; they should be ripping and tearing at your body, but they did not. To them, you’re not there. Touching your wounded neck again, you realized something: You’d become one of them. That is why they did not attack you as you walked out of the cafeteria.
Nor when you reached the pathways outside school. All around you, students walked around, sniffing and searching for more human meat. None of them bothered you unless you bothered them first. Even then, they only snapped their teeth at you before moving away. It felt surreal. An ignorant person might believe they’re in a dream, but you knew better. Whatever happened here has led to hundreds of students being infected with a mind altering disease. You wondered what could’ve caused this as you walked around the school. Biochemical warfare? Chemical lab experiment gone wrong? You couldn’t think of anything else. You could only focus on trying not to attract any of the zombies around you.
It all came back to you as you walked. One minute, you’d been apologizing to Hyejin for what you’d said about her, and the next a rush of students flooded the room. You’d been the first to stand from your seat. You remembered students screaming with terror as they ran through the cafeteria. You remembered seeing the things chasing them: other students, all of them red-eyed and feral. They screeched and growled hysterically, as if possessed by demons. But, that’s childish; this was something worse. You’d grabbed your bag once you saw an infected student tackle a girl by the wall and instantly bite into her throat. Soomin, the athlete, managed to get to a back door before either you or Hyejin. Some friends. It truly became every man for himself. Hyejin had screamed in absolute terror when one zombie, a large boy, blundered after her. You remember being a few steps ahead of her by then. You’d reached for the kitchen doors when a hand yanked your head back.
Hyejin used you as a means of escape. You’d slipped and tripped over the floors as the sprinkles above went off, causing it to rain inside the cafeteria. The large zombie grabbed hold of you, but you’d managed to fight him off. Another zombie, a girl with short hair, launched at you. That’s how your arm was bitten. But, you hadn’t stayed under her for long, since you threw her off you. You’d gotten up a second time where you watched Hyejin running through the kitchen to the back doors. Seeing it up ahead, you knew instinctively she’d close the door on you if she reached it. You recall leaping. You never leapt before, but you leapt towards Hyejin. Your hands found her long dark hair, fisted it tightly, and dragged her from the door. She fell to the ground with a painful groan. By the back door, you saw the two zombies attack her. You sidestepped another zombie when you realized the back door was locked. Running into the main kitchen, you dodged zombies and screamed when one of them lurched for you. Due to the slippery floor and chaos of humans and zombies, you’d fallen face forward. All air knocked out of you, you scrambled up before a zombie caught you.
That’s when more of them came. You squeezed your eyes tightly as you thought of the stink of death and harsh pain of teeth breaking skin. You’d howled from the nails digging into your skin, and the number of zombies all vying for a piece of you. Kicking and screaming, you eventually caved when one of them sunk his teeth into your neck, the one that was most obvious to you. You touched it again, walking back into the school to the library, your sanctuary. You didn’t find anyone there. It appeared whatever zombies were here had left.
Empty. That is what the world became: empty. Yet, it didn’t feel like it to you. You heard the sounds of zombies groaning outside perfectly. You could smell the paper of the books underneath the foul odor of blood and corpses. Tapping a table, the sound was louder to you. Your ears became sensitive to any sound you made after. You guessed the other zombies, mindless and aimless, reacted to noise as well. Grabbing a book, you opened the window to test your theory. You saw several zombies walking around the fields outside. You launched the book out the window, watching it fall and crash onto the ground. The small slap alerted every zombie within a twenty foot radius. They clambered over to the sound, but growled their discontent when they only smelled more dead flesh. So, a unique sense of sound. You wondered what else your new existence brought you.
This heightened sense came in handy an hour or so later. You’d been setting small fires across the library, trying to see how far your sense of smell went, when you heard it. At first, you thought it might be another zombie, but your new nose said otherwise. The newcomer did not smell like rotting flesh or congealed blood. They were something in between. You took a whiff around, and the trail led towards the library entrance. You’d been thinking of testing out your strength and speed. You saw how indestructible your fellow zombies were: you’d been throwing computer parts at them from above and barely making a dent. You might have a similar strength. You knew whatever being sauntered into your hideout will be your guinea pig. You put out your small bonfire with a wet paper towel, and followed the sounds and smells with your new body.
You made to move, but the intruder stepped out from behind the bookcases. It was Gwinam, except he looked drastically different from the boy you saw this morning. Firstly, he wore a new jacket that obviously wasn't his. Secondly, a hideous, nauseating gash went through his left eye, leaving a gory mess behind. He stopped when he saw you. You stared at him. He stared at you. Neither of you said anything. It was like meeting one of the zombies; you did not have to speak to understand one another.
"You too?" He asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.
"Yeah."
"In the cafeteria?"
"Yeah. You?"
"In here."
"When?"
"A few hours ago. Cheongsan pushed me off there," he pointed to one of the high bookcases, "And I got bit." His good eye surveyed you from afar.
"And your eye?"
"He shoved a phone into it."
"A phone?"
The idea of a cell phone never occurred to you. You could've called for help, but that didn't seem to matter anymore. Who could help you? And if help was called, they would have come by now. "Yeah, the corner part," he said, acting out the gesture with a stabbing motion, "But it's whatever. I don't really feel it. I plan on killing him." He spotted the deep wounds on your neck, and said, "Those don't bother you either?"
"Not really. I thought they'd at least itch, but they haven't," you said. "I tried recording the healing process, but it's very slow. I think because we're still partly human, we can't feel the pain but our muscles and skin react to it. Look, see," you showed him your bite marks, the skin barely together but no longer leaking blood. "It stopped bleeding, but the wound hasn't healed."
"Is that what you've been doing here?" He gestured to the trash can at your feet. "Experimenting?"
"Well, yes," you said, sheepishly. "I want to see what my body is capable of now that I've reached this new level of being. My senses are certainly sharper: I can smell things from at least twenty feet; I'm able to hear things from a further distance too, since sound echoes and bounces. I've discovered I don't die. I can't die. Seeing you now, I'm assuming it's the same for you?"
"Yeah."
You caught him looking over your body again. You became self-conscious immediately. Being undead, you doubted you'd lose any weight from your previous life. Add the disgusting bites and scratches on your flabby flesh, and you're absolutely distasteful. You didn't need Gwinam staring at you like that.
"Stop it," you said, not meeting his eyes.
"Stop what?"
"Looking at me. You don't see me staring at your eye, do you? I don't need reminding of how ugly I am."
"You're not ugly."
You scoffed, "Please, don't insult my intelligence. I know how my body looks."
"I know too, and I like it."
"Huh?" You saw it once you met his eyes.
"Nothing about your body has ever bothered me," he said, licking his lips at you. "In fact, everything about it turns me the fuck on."
You walked backwards from him as he approached. Your heart thumped in your chest, the sound spreading to your ears and freezing your bones. A sudden heat flared up in your body, and you gulped thickly as it went all over. The glint in his eye is unmistakable, and it excites you. Never did you think this would happen. Yoon Gwinam was only meant for your dirtiest, smuttiest fantasies reserved for lonely nights at home. Yoon Gwinam was the forbidden fruit that you'd never reach; Hyejin and Soomin being the ones raising the branch with each disgusted word. Yet, as the world turned upside down, those fantasies quickly turned into reality as Gwinam moved towards you.
"You make my cock so fucking hard," he nearly growled, already unbuckling his pants. "It drives me crazy. I have to sit in class…seeing you there in that little skirt…seeing your tits almost bursting out of your shirt…I know why you wear it that way…you like showing off those big tits just for me, don't you?" The way he walked reminded you of Jisung from that morning. A lion coming upon its prey. Something about this brazen, direct Gwinam caused your mind to wander back into those fantasies. "And don't get me started on those thighs of yours,” his eyes scanned your body and stopped to your thighs, “I love looking at them, especially when you wear stockings…the way they hug your thighs so some pudges out…fuck, you know it does things to me…"
"What?" Your voice quivered slightly.
"Don't act innocent with me," he said, getting closer. His dark eyes full of frustration and lust brought back to the last scenario you imagined. Your arousal throbbed between your legs. "You act all clean cut but I know deep down you're just a whore who wants to be fucked senseless every second of the day.” He unzipped his fly, but did not pull anything out, "You made me so horny in class that I jerked off in the bathroom during lunch. I remembered you at the construction site, all breathless and horny, and I couldn't help it."
He came within inches of you. The heavy scent of blood and sweat reached your nose, and you bit your bottom lip. A sharp gasp left you when his body pressed into yours. Gwinam tugged down the front of his pants and boxers to withdraw his dick. The sight made you wet instantly. Not too long, it was certainly thick with heavy balls underneath. You knew you'd definitely feel him stretching you soon. You already imagined it tearing you apart as he ravaged your body.
"Open your shirt and let me see those tits," he demanded, eyes focused on your chest. "You were so eager to show them before. I want to see them now."
With trembling fingers you unbutton your shirt. Underneath, Gwinam saw the white undershirt you wore stretched over your large breasts. You untucked your shirt so he may see more of you, which he liked. You worried about the gashes zombies left on your stomach and chest, but Gwinam hardly noticed them. He sailed up your body past them and to your breasts. He cupped one right away, causing you to whimper from the touch. Gwinam smirked and squeezed it so you whimpered again. You never considered stimulation before this moment. You might not feel any pain, but you certainly felt the small sparks his hand alone brought. His hands warmed up as they fondled you over your bra and shirt, the temperature hardened your nipples so they poked into the fabric. The cotton fabric of your bra did nothing to hide this from Gwinam, who bent down to bite gently down on one. You made a mental note to write down ‘sexual stimulation’ as part of your human side.
He put your hand on his crotch, and instinctively you grabbed it. You liked the feel of him against your fingers. Even with his half undead existence, his body felt human as ever. You sensed the blood pumping through his cock, and could almost smell it through the thin skin. Big hands remained nearly lukewarm on your chest; their gentle squeezes were certainly stronger than your daydreams concocted. Full lips didn’t skip over the bite mark on your neck, kissing upwards and licking the dried blood. The feeling of his tongue against your skin sent chills down your body. You needed more of him. You continued lightly touching his cock, sometimes slipping lower to the ball sack underneath, which caused several deep groans.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned in your ear, still fondling your breasts. “So addicting,” he went back to kissing your neck, “I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop.”
You brought him into a kiss, and you're thankful he didn't pull away. His plush lips caressed yours, carefully opening them with a small flick on your bottom lip. Blood tinged your lips, sliding from one tongue to the other, but you liked it. That undeniable hunger for flesh and blood came over you; you growled and sunk further into his kiss. You didn’t know if a half-zombie could eat another half-zombie, but you found his taste to be particularly intoxicating. You pushed yourself against him, roaming his body with your free hand to unzip his jacket There, you found his bloodied black sweater where zombies bit into his torso. You didn’t mind it. This new discovery only aroused you more. It was as if he'd opened the floodgates repressing your desires. You couldn’t stop yourself.
"Let's get rid of this," he growled between kisses.
He took the collar of your tanktop and tore it open easily. Gwinam groaned at the sight of your tight white bra, which squeezed your breasts more than you liked. He kissed fiercely along them, even giving a bite that pinched you, groping and squeezing them. You kept your hand on him, his shaft growing even harder while you jerked him. The touch made your sex clench within you, and your clit throbbed from the newest sensation. Gwinam roughly tugged down your bra, so your tits spilled over the wire supporting them. He stopped kissing you to admire the soft mounds filling his hands. You whined as he grazed his thumbs over your nipples, the two peaks hard against the rough pads.
"Fuck," he moaned, kissing one of them, "They're exactly how I imagined them to be. So big and soft. I could suck these all day." He took it in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and sucking hard. He did this to each one since you squirmed at the mixture of pain and pleasure. "You can't imagine," he grunted, nipping at your tits, "How many times I felt like ripping your shirt open to play with them…How many times I thought of taking you…fucking you…raping you…"
"Gwinam…" you whimpered at his words, the filth causing you to stroke him faster. Droplets of precum stuck to your hand and slickened your motions. This only amplified your arousal.
"Like today with Jisung," he flicked his tongue over the very middle, which sent shocks of pleasure down your body. "I saw you standing there watching me hit him. I saw how you panted and bit your lower lip. You were touching yourself, and I wanted more than anything to fuck you. I wanted to chase you down, rip off your panties and have my way with you…whether you wanted it or not. I don’t care anymore.” He sucked particularly hard on one nipple, then came back up to you, “I’m the boss here now. I can have whatever and whoever I want, especially you.” He cupped your chin for a hard kiss, “I should’ve fucked you there. I would’ve given you the fucking little teases like you deserve.”
"What stopped you?" You asked him breathlessly, sliding one hand over his shoulder to feel more of him. You started pumping him faster. "Hm? What stopped big bad Gwinam from fucking the shit out of me right outside our school? You could've tossed me on the floor, fucking me into the dirt or into the bushes with your hand over my mouth-"
He cut you off by grabbing your throat. The slender digits squeezed both sides of your neck, cutting off air but not hurting you. The pain came from the harsh slap that went across your cheek. When you cried out, he did it again to the opposite cheek. He stared at you for a moment, surveying the need written on your face. Your clit throbbed for his attention, hoping your grinding hips might clue him into that. He then slapped you again, then kissed you roughly.
"You filthy slut," he grunted against your lips. "You like that, huh?” he smacked you again, “You like being hit?”
The truth was: yes, you did. The stinging pain mingled with the desire burning inside you. Being in his strong grasp, pinned by his long body, you knew you could easily escape him. This elevated, evolved being you’ve become came with a strength you’d never known before. It made you invincible. Breaking away from him wouldn’t be a problem, yet you don’t push or thrash in his clutches. You instead spread your thighs and begin pumping him once more. From his heavy breathing, you knew you’d gotten the effect you wanted.
“Let me see for myself then.” He stuck his hand under your skirt and roughly pushed your panties aside. You gasped from the sudden invasion of his fingers on your sex. Boys touched you there before, but not like how Gwinam did. Three fingers cupped your dampening center to rub carefully up and down; he didn’t care if you let him or not, your pussy was his now. “Oh, you do enjoy this kind of thing,” he sneered, releasing your throat and grabbing at your hair instead. A quick tug and a forceful pull brought you to your knees in front of him. “I’m going to show you what I would’ve done if I’d caught you. Open.”
He prodded his tip to your lips, which opened right away. The taste of salty precum slid over your tongue and savored the sticky substance. A huge part of your fantasies finally came true. Gwinam kept his hold on your hair while he guided you over his hips. The girth of his filled your mouth completely, and his head hit your throat once or twice. It’s exactly how you imagined. You sucked the hard muscle firmly, a move that made Gwinam groan. You wanted to please him; you wanted his approval and satisfaction. It became harder to breathe once he forced you right up to his base. You gripped your knees tightly as pain started burning your throat and chest. Inhaling through your nose, you tried your best to breathe as Gwinam’s cock nearly suffocated you. You loved it. Something about his dick blocking your airway, causing you to gag and choke on it excited you. Your eyes teared up whenever he held you to him for too long, only moving his tip from your throat in short strokes. Yet, you did not object or force him away. You hummed in your throat as he moved in and out. When he mumbled about enjoying it, you kept on going. Streams of his precum and your saliva started dripping from your mouth, leaking through the corners. You pointedly rocked backward and forward so your tits jiggled for him, and you saw him eye them right away. When he pulled away, streams of it came out and you gasped for air.
“Look at you,” he groaned, tapping his wet cock on your lips and cheeks. “You love choking on dick,” he sneered, pushing his tip into your mouth once more. He kept you still with one hand under your chin and the other on the back of your head. More tears spilled down your cheeks as he fucked your throat. You started playing with your nipples, and moaned around his shaft. “Your mouth is fucking heaven,” he moaned, “Like a silk toy. Because that’s all you are…A mindless, stupid fuck toy for me to use whenever I want.”
Your muffled moans made him laugh. “And, to think, what I’ve become gives me so much more stamina than before,” he continued, shoving himself fully inside. “I can do all the dirty things I’ve wanted to do with you, and never get tired,” he withdrew himself to let you breathe, “And you know what that means, right?” As you tried swallowing the thickness in your mouth, he said, “It means you’re going to learn what happens to sluts who think they can flash their tits and ass at me. You thought you could flaunt those thighs and those tits and that ass and I’d do nothing about it? Hm?” He plunged his cock right back into your mouth, laughing as you cried. “And there’s nobody around to stop me; nobody to laugh at me about it. It’s only you and me, and you make me horny nearly every second of the day.” He thrusted rapidly, drowning out your cries with his moans. “That means you might as well not wear anything at all.”
He pulled out a final time, and watched you sputter and gasp for air. You massaged your throat, which felt hoarse and ached. Gwinam tugged your head back, and rested his balls right on your mouth. You knew exactly what to do. You took one in your mouth for a tender suck, licking your tongue over the curves and skin. Gwinam stroked himself slowly as you tongued his balls; he occasionally grinded into your face so you’d swallow the whole thing. Little moans vibrated over the sensitive skin, and Gwinam gritted his teeth. You grabbed his thighs for some stability, a thing he did not deny you, and buried your face further into his crotch. Gwinam pulled his balls away and had you lick his shaft up and down while you fondled them instead. Your pussy became so wet, you felt your juices sliding between your thighs. You loved how he used you. You loved giving yourself over to him entirely, and being the sex doll he wanted. Gwinam is the only boy you ever considered yourself fucking this way; you knew he had the ferocity, the depravity, the perversion to do it how you’d wanted. Other boys you’d managed to hook up with always showed hesitancy. Not Gwinam. You’ll be his whore and nothing else.
That was what you wanted.
Long, drawn out moans and panting preceded the thick, hot semen suddenly filling your mouth. You eagerly and greedily swallowed the substance going down your throat. It tasted delicious. Whether it was being undead or because it was Gwinam, you swallowed his whole load. Gwinam’s orgasm made him push harder and faster, making your neck and jaw burn from the pain. He didn’t stop until each drop left his tip and into your mouth. You swallowed whatever he left, even opening your mouth to let him squeeze it onto your tongue.
“You’re the perfect cum dump,” he breathed, running his tip over your lips so you’d lick off the droplets remaining. When he spotted worry in your eyes, he laughed, “Don’t worry. There’s more where that came from. Stand up,” he ordered, lifting you with little effort, and turning you around.
Excitement brought out your smile as he forced you to bend over. Your mind whirled from the thoughts going through your head. Spreading your legs, you arched your back slightly for him to see underneath. He lifted up your skirt to show your panties, and the cold air touched over your sex. No doubt he saw the wet spot pooled right in the center, since he then cupped it in his hand. Long fingers rolled up and down each inch of your sex, and stopped right at your clit. Your cotton panties, white and cheap, must be almost see through with how wet you’d made them.
“Your pussy is so fucking wet,” he moaned, one finger finding your clit and teasing it gently. “I thought about it so many times. Even today, when I jerked off during lunch, I thought of your sweet, tight cunt.”
“And I thought of your dick in it,” you admitted, whining when you felt his finger push delicately against your panties. “I want it so bad. I can’t think about anything else when I’m…I’m around you, oh fuck…”
His fingers teasing your clit only caused more wetness to develop. Gwinam then took both sides of your panties and threaded them between your buttocks and folds. A small bit covered your clit yet exposed it to him at the same time. While one hand spanked your ass cheeks, the other used the tip of his finger to pass over the sensitive nub. Streams of mewls, cries, and whimpers left your lips. Every little touch to it tightened the ball building inside your loins. He knew exactly what to do, and how to make you whine like a bitch in heat. Gwinam’s constant torture had you clawing the table and wriggling around in front of him. You thought you might cum from just the teasing alone.
“Fuck,” he hissed, “I could feel that pussy fluttering for me already.” He moved his finger side to side and threw down more sharp spanks to your ass. “I bet you’re dying to have me in there, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you sobbed, “Yes, yes, please.”
“Please, what, slut?”
“Please fuck me,” you said, tears brimming your eyes.
“Ummm, no.”
Using both hands, Gwinam did not pull off your panties. He did not slowly peel them off and slide them to your ankles. He took the seam keeping front and back together and tore it apart. The sound of shredding fabric reached your ears. He did not remove the waistband. He only ripped it enough to expose your ass and pussy to him, leaving a long tear that went from back to front. Gwinam left your side and crouched down behind you. You felt him dangerously close to your center; you shuddered when something hot and slippery slide over your clit. Gwinam pulled the lips apart and focused his tongue there. You cried out feeling the tip circle it repeatedly; you grabbed at the table whenever he dipped beneath or on top of it slowly. The obscene lapping and slurping from below added to your uncontrollable moans. When he turned you around, your thighs immediately locked around him and with your own strength, you forced his mouth to take your clit. Gwinam gazed up in amusement, eagerly sucking and licking the cunt right in his face. He didn’t stop you from grinding over his mouth and nose; it’s not as if he’d suffocate. That was a perk of being partly dead, you guessed.
“I’ve wanted this for s-s-so long,” you said, gasping when his tongue entered your clenching and unclenching walls. “Oh god, just like that,” you started fucking his face in return, “Your tongue feels so fucking good! Ah!” his sudden grasp of your thighs with a hard smack let out a sudden squeak from you. “I’ve wanted you to fuck me for such a long time. My pussy gets wet just looking at you. I thought…I thought if I teased you, you’d give in and take me. I would’ve let you fuck me however you wanted, as long as I got your cock inside me.” You gripped his hair, soft and silky in your hand, and cried out from the pleasure he brought. “I saw you beat up Jisung, and I couldn’t help…couldn’t help touching myself to it. You being so big and long and strong-”
Gwinam interrupted you by rolling you backwards so your body curled into a c-shape. He pinned your knees to your chest as he wagged his tongue over your pussy. That’s when you came. In a blinding, gut-tensing, muscle-contracting orgasm, you came right on his face. Gwinam only growled his delight at your cum in his mouth. You bucked your hips around, the table underneath you moving slightly, and pushed into his face more. He sucked up all the juices until your clitoris turned sensitive from your climax; it didn’t stop him. Gwinam kissed down to your ass hole where his tongue moved teasingly before coming back up. You're normally concerned with him going from one hole to the other, but not anymore. You’re dead. What infections could you get from it?
“Looks like,” he said, kissing up the backs of your thighs, “We’re both going to get what we want then.”
With total ease, he pulled you to the edge of the table and onto his cock. Keeping your thighs on your stomach, Gwinam charged into you as he liked: hard and rough. The stings of pain did nothing to you. It only made you want to cum again.
“Oh my god,” he growled, squeezing your thighs tightly. “You really must be a whore to take my dick so well. You’re the perfect fuck hole; the perfect cum dump…and you’re all mine.”
“Yes, yes, I am.”
He grabbed your throat, hovering over you and making you face him as you moaned his name. Your lips parted from your constant moans, Gwinam spat into your mouth. He slapped you when you didn’t swallow it immediately. He did it a second time, and you bent to his whims. Then, he gave you another sloppy kiss. You loved the dirtiness of it all; you craved more and more of it. You’d dreamt of this moment for months; you’d desired, lusted, and fantasized about it. When Gwinam grabbed your wrists to keep you on the table, hungrily kissing you, you almost came again. His shirt brushed lightly on your clit which made you weak and shuddering. Biting down on your neck, you winced from the pain, but you knew it wouldn’t last.
“Push back on me,” he said, kissing down to your nipples where he sucked harshly. “Show me how badly you’ve wanted this dick, slut.”
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you kept Gwinam in place as you pushed your hips into his own. His thick cock stretched you pleasantly, bringing you nothing but pleasure as you drove him deep inside. Gwinam stuck out his tongue to let your nipple brush over the flat part, flicking it once or twice or sucking it for you. You purposefully made them bounce in his face which made him growl and grunt. He let go of your wrists and grabbed your tits. His tongue teasing your nipples and his dick hitting that spot inside your pussy brought you closer to another orgasm.
“Gwinam, Gwinam, I’m going to cum,” you wept, the pleasure overwhelming your body. “Oh fuck, you’re going to make me cum again.”
“Good. Do it,” he gripped you by the chin, “Cum on my dick. Do it. Now.”
The second wave made you scream. You worried undead classmates might hear you, but they must’ve been somewhere else. Not that it mattered. They didn’t touch you. Only Gwinam touched you, and he rode out your orgasm in a few thrusts. Still shivering and whimpering, Gwinam ignored your weakened state and tossed you onto the library floor. On your front, air punched out of you for a second before he was on top of you. Without warning, his fingers entered your ass, and his cock shoved into your pussy. You arched your back for him, nearly dizzy from your orgasms and his relentless abuse of your body. And then he fucked you. He fucked you exactly how you’d always wanted. The depravity of the scene made your head swim in the haze of it all. With his free hand, Gwinam gripped your throat so your head lifted from the floor. The slight pressure cut your airway, but not enough that you’d suffocate completely.
“I’m going to cum in all your holes,” he huffed, his fingers knuckle deep in your ass while his dick filled you. “You’re going to be limping out of this library with cum dripping from you. I only wish everyone was alive…then they can see what a fucking…fucking…fucking whore YN is!”
More cum squirted into your pussy, and you couldn’t be bothered to protest. You accepted every drop. “Please cum in me,” you cried, fists underneath you and humping his cock, “Please. I want you to fill each one, please.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be more than filled,” he grunted, going faster and harder like before.
In a few more strokes, he finished his second orgasm. You took a moment to notice that he did not need a small refractory period. A surprise perk to being dead, you supposed. Not even taking a moment to breathe, Gwinam removed his fingers from your ass and laid back on the floor. You knew immediately what he wanted. You turned around to stuff his coated cock in your mouth, slobbering over it to make it wet as possible. Gwinam groaned, hands going through his hair as pleasure came over him again. A part of you wanted to stay there, cleaning his cock of your combined juices until he came again, but you knew what your lover really wanted. When his cock was prepared, you turned your back to him and sunk down on it…with your ass. This new tightness had Gwinam cursing and moaning your name. You leaned forward, broken panties and skirt over your hips so he’d have a perfect view of your ass, and bounced as much as you could.
Being undead left you stronger and faster. Before, you could never properly ride a guy. Your body felt too heavy and you worried you’d hurt them somehow. Not Gwinam. He handled you with ease, and you had no trouble riding him. You wanted him to cum again. You enjoyed his deep, throaty groans and the names he called you. He dominated you and you couldn’t help but submit. He went back to smacking and grabbing your ass while you touched your soaked, hard clit again. If anyone came upon you two, it’d certainly be a feast for the eyes. The feeling of him fully driving into you, stretching and filling you, drove you wild. You did whatever you could to milk more cum from him.
“Stay still,” he ordered, and you stopped at once. Luckily, it was for him to continue the pace on his own. “Your ass is as good as your pussy, fuck,” he panted, grabbing your hair to pull you backwards, “I could fuck this forever.”
“I wish you would,” you replied, meeting his hips nevertheless so loud smacking sounds filled the space. “I want to be a good toy and make you cum.”
“Oh my god,” he grunted, “Say that again. Say it.”
“I want to be a good toy and make you cum.”
“Then make me cum, slut. Come on,” he smacked your ass hard, “Make me cum with that fat, round…oh fuck, yes, yes, like that-”
The sheer motion of him cumming in your ass had you joining him. You kept going, not feeling exhausted at all. In fact, it heightened every sense. Everything became clearer, and the hunger nestled inside you had you slamming down on him. Once you drained him of cum, Gwinam still did not stop. He seemed incapable of it, and you did not complain. Rolling you onto your side, hands on your breasts, he used one leg to spread your thighs and sink back into your pussy. He let you continue your third orgasm on your own, rubbing your clit and pinching your nipples. You screamed once more as the climax truly hit you this time. Gwinam smacked your clit a few times during it, the light stings having you saying his name. He put you into a scissor position, the new angle driving home and leaving you senseless beneath him. Squelching sounds told you that his cum mixed with yours, and leaked out of your sex. You almost felt it pooling underneath him in every thrust. The new pace and position had you screaming his name a fourth time, and his own soon followed.
You did this for a while. It felt as if all those months of repressed feelings and sexual frustration exploded into this unrelenting, insatiable bomb. You couldn’t stop. You both bit, clawed, slapped, spat and growled throughout the day. Yes, the day. It was a thing you didn’t think possible until you’d turned into this half-human, half-zombie lifeform. Gwinam took you on every possible surface: the tables, chairs, against bookshelves and cabinets. It continued even against the glass doors where the bloody, snarling, stumbling and shuffling zombies went right by. The most exciting was when he fucked you right in the hallway, having you on all fours as he grunted about people watching you both. Pure bliss. That’s all it was.
Fantasies do come true.
***
A/N: wow, this one is wild! lol it's one of my longer pieces, but I hope you still enjoyed this. It's my first Gwinam fic, and I'm really proud of it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed it <3
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wzrd-wheezes · 4 months
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The Engagement Arrangement - Sirius Black x Reader/James Potter x Reader.
Hey!!! Can I request an arranged engagement with James because they grew up in wealthy families and they're close friends but as she gets to know the boys better Sirius falls in love with her? Mutual pining with obstacles with be the death of me.
AN: after actual months of writing this fic, it's finally finished. I posted the first part of it months ago but decided to finish the fic and repost it as a complete work. i'm so fucking proud of this and i really hope you enjoy it. this is the longest thing i've ever written so please please please give it a reblog and let me know what you think. ily <3
Contains: some angst, a lot of fluff, pining, swearing and just general good times haha. enjoy!
9k words
The engine of the car hummed quietly causing the window to vibrate as Y/N rested her head against the glass. She fiddled with the hem of her dress as she gazed out of the window, the trees a blur of red and orange as they whizzed past. 
“Will you stop fiddling with your dress!” Y/N’s mother snapped, whipping her head around to glare at her daughter, “I won’t have you at the Potter’s house with your dress all creased, what will they think of us!?” 
Y/N only murmured in response, barely paying attention to her mother’s nagging as she smoothed her dress out. The car pulled to a stop on the gravel driveway outside of the Potter’s manor. The autumn sunlight beat down on the vast lawns and bounced off of the ornate windows, casting patterns on the driveway. She sighed as she got out of the car, mentally preparing herself for the afternoon at the Potter’s.  
Coming to the Potter’s house for lunch wasn’t a frequent occurrence, yet every time their car pulled up outside, Y/N filled with dread. The lunches were alarmingly boring with her parents talking tirelessly with Mr and Mrs Potter. The Potter’s had a son, who Y/N was yet to meet as he attended a boarding school. Y/N’s mother had explained to her that James had been sent to boarding school as he was rather unruly, and they were trying to get him to settle down. However, now that he, like Y/N was 18, had finished school and returned home. 
Mrs Potter greeted them graciously at the front door, giving her parents a hug and Y/N a squeeze on the shoulder. She led them into the sitting room and began to bustle around making tea. Y/N perched on the edge of the sofa, trying to avoid crumpling her dress and infuriating her mother again. Just as she had done in the car, Y/N stared out of the window, her eyes drifting over the garden that seemed to sprawl for miles. Leaves floated down from the trees, landing in a pile on the floor before being dispersed by the soft breeze.  
“Nice of you to finally join us, Son.” Mr Potter spoke, easy smile resting on his face. Y/N was pulled out of her daydream, her eyes darting towards the door where a young man was standing, leaning lazily against the door frame. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his slacks, the top button of his shirt undone and his dark curls falling messily into his eyes. 
“Mr and Mrs L/N.” he nodded, “Nice to see you both again.” 
“Ah, James.” Y/N’s father exclaimed, “It’s been a while! You must have grown a good few feet taller since we last saw you.” 
“My career as a dwarf never really took off so I decided to just let it go.” James joked, earning himself a disapproving look from both of his parents. 
“James,” Y/N’s mother swiftly interjected, “You haven’t met our daughter, Y/N. She’s just finished school as well. I’m sure you’ll both get along well.” 
“Nice to meet you,” James grinned, stepping into the room and shaking Y/N’s hand. Y/N just smiled back at him, unsure of what to say. Her mother harshly nudged her leg, urging her to reply. 
“Yeah. You as well.” 
James plonked himself in the armchair in front of the window that Y/N was previously looking out of. She frowned slightly, annoyed that he was obstructing not only the view but also the distraction from the torturously boring conversation that their parents were having. The two teenagers sat silently, every so often glancing up at each other. One time, James rolled his eyes and mimed putting a gun to his head, Y/N had to try her best to stifle a laugh. Clearly, she didn’t try hard enough as she was shot another one of her mother’s infamous disapproving looks. 
“James, dear, why don’t you go and show Y/N around the gardens while we talk? We have some important business to discuss, and it will be terribly boring for you both.” James’ mother suggested. Y/N let out a sigh of relief and eagerly stood up, grabbing her jacket from the coat stand. 
For the first few moments, they didn’t speak a word to each other, just silently making their way through the hall towards the large front door, buttoning up their coats as they walked. It was only when they were out of earshot that James finally spoke. 
“I didn’t think it was possible to die of boredom, but I genuinely think I was close.” He said dramatically.  
“We were only sat in there for half an hour.” Y/N said, raising an eyebrow at him.  
“Yet it felt like an eternity.” 
James pushed open the front door and they were greeted by the crisp autumn air. Their breaths clouded in the chill, damp air and they both wrapped their coats a little tighter around themselves.  
“What d’you reckon they’re talking about?” Y/N asked, “What’s so important that we can’t be there to hear them discuss it?” James shrugged, staring up at the cloudless sky. 
“Who knows? Probably just boring adult stuff. I tend to just tune it out whenever they start speaking.” Despite his nonchalant response, there was a hint of wistfulness in his expression. It was almost as if the thought of having a genuine adult conversation with his parents seemed utterly foreign and unappealing to him. 
“They’re probably just sat moaning about us.” Y/N laughed, “That’s what adults do when they get together, isn’t it? Moan about their children?” 
“Nah, not my mum and dad. They genuinely think the sun shines out of my arse.” James chuckled. 
“Didn’t they ship you off to boarding school because you were too ‘unruly’” Y/N said, making air quotes with her fingers. James’ cheeks flushed at her comment and he let out an awkward chuckle. 
“Yeah, that was a bit of an exaggeration on mum and dad’s behalf. They made it sound like I was some feral child. In reality, I was just a normal kid who liked to have fun.” 
Y/N felt a bit guilty for poking fun at him about the boarding school ordeal. It seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for him, despite how flippantly he brushed it off. 
“They didn’t have to be so dramatic,” James continued, “But it’s all in the past now. I’m back home and everything’s fine,” He shrugged, the smile returning to his face. Y/N wasn’t quite so sure how accurate that statement one. 
They chatted as they walked through the gardens, comparing their school experiences, talking about their upbringings and their parents. Y/N felt sad that James had been away for the majority of their childhood, it would have made the many dinners with their parents a lot less painful if she had had someone her own age there to speak to.  
 The more time that Y/N spent in James’s company, the more she realised just how much they had in common. They had similar senses of humour, enjoyed engaging in sarcastic banter and had a mutual disdain for the social niceties that dominated their families’ get-together. For his part, James enjoyed speaking with Y/N as well. Unlike with the adults in his life, he didn’t have to keep up an exhausting façade. He could be frank with her and didn’t have to worry about offending her with his snarky wit. 
The conversation turned back to the topic of their schooling. Y/N described her school life and her friends, while James told stories of pranking students and teacher alike, and generally being a nuisance. James had a twinkle in his eye as he recounted some of his more mischievous antics. It was clear that he had no regrets and was, in fact, quite proud of all the trouble he had gotten into over the years.  
“I’m pretty sure I was on my last chance before they got rid of me,” he admitted as they walked back to the house, “In our final year, my friends and I were planning to pull a big stunt during exam week, it would have definitely gotten us kicked out. Only, my friend Peter ended up talking us out of it in the end. Probably for the best.” As he finished speaking a hint of regret crossed his face. 
When they finally returned to the house, having been gone a good hour or so, they found their parents still sat in the same spot they were in before they had left. It looked as though time had stood still while they were outside. 
“Ah, there you two are! We were just about to send someone out to find you! We really need to talk to you both, if you wouldn’t mind sitting down for a moment.” Mrs Potter smiled. James sighed inwardly and shot Y/N an apologetic look. Just when he had been enjoying himself, their parents’ demands had sent him back to reality.  
“We’ve been discussing the future,” Y/N’s father began, “And now you have both finished school we believe it’s time to start making preparations for the future.”  
Y/N and James both leaned forward in their chairs, intrigued by what their parents had to say. James let out a nervous chuckle, not sure what Y/N’s father meant by that.  
“Preparations for the future?” he repeated, turning to look at his own father, “What do you mean? Like, getting involved in the family business or something?” 
“Not particularly.” James’s father said. 
“You’re both intelligent, young individuals with bright futures ahead of you. The pair of you both come from good families, and we think it’s time that the two of you started settling down.” Y/N’s mother explained. 
Both Y/N and James sat there in stunned silence, their minds racing to try and figure out exactly what their parents were talking about.  
“You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?” James asked, not wanting to believe it, “You’re seriously suggesting that at the ripe old age of 18, we get married to each other?” The words were out of his mouth before he had even fully formed the thought. 
“That’s ridiculous!” Y/N exclaimed, “You can’t just arrange our romance like we’re some sort of commodity. That’s absurd!”  The notion of being forced into a relationship with James with utterly foreign to her, especially since they had only met mere hours ago. Mrs Potter looked at them both with a stern expression. 
“This isn’t something that we’ve considered lightly.” she said, in a tone that left no room for argument, “We believe that the two of you will make a wonderful couple, and with time may even grow to love each other.” 
“There is much more than that to our proposal,” James’s father said solemnly, “It’s not just about romance. In this particular case, settling down is more about stability.” 
James and Y/N just stared at each other, feeling the full weight of their parents’ decision bearing down on their shoulders.  
“But what about what we want?” James snapped, gesturing to the two of them. 
“At the end of the day, this isn’t about what you want.” Mr Potter shook his head, “This is about your families and their futures, not just your own selfish desires.” 
The statement hit both of them hard, and for a moment, the two teenagers were completely stunned. Their own family was more important than their own happiness, their own dreams. The harsh reality of their situation slowly began to sink in, and the weight out the responsibility felt nearly too heavy for them to bear. 
James paced back and forth across his spacious bedroom, seemingly unable to settle in one place. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides as he tried to wrestle with the situation that they had been forced into. Y/N was watching him, lounged on the edge of his bed with a mug of tea in her hand. 
It had been a few days since their parents had broken the news to them and they had since decided that it would be a good idea for Y/N to move in with the Potter’s. It was as if her parents couldn’t wait to get her out quick enough and had all of her things boxed up in a matter of hours. 
“What do you think of all this?” he finally asked, stopping in front of her. She raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink. 
“Are you joking?” she scoffed, “You have to be joking. ‘Settling down’. Are you serious?” She sat so that she was upright, putting her mug down on the bedside table.  
“Are our parents mad? Have they actually lost it? Who proposes something like that to teenagers these days?” She could barely hide her incredulity. 
James sighed, feeling like his head was going to explode from a sudden rush of confusion and emotions. It felt so surreal, like this was some kind of elaborate joke that their parents were just waiting to reveal the punchline of.  
“I mean, you seem great and all and sure, we get along well enough, but is that really a solid basis for deciding to spend the rest of our lives together?” He raked a hand through his unruly hair. In his mind, there was no possible way they could make this situation work. 
“If it wasn’t so ridiculous, it would be hilariously tragic,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to ease the onset of a headache. 
“My friends are supposed to be visiting for a few weeks.” James said, sitting down on his bed, “I suppose they’ll make me cancel now you’re here. Y’know, with them wanting us to spend time together and all.” 
Y/N shook her head, feeling a surge of sympathy for James. He’d mentioned earlier how much he was looking forward to seeing his friends again and she couldn’t help but imagine how disappointed he would be if he had to cancel on them.  
“That’s a pain.” she said, “If it was up to me, I’d leave you alone to do whatever you like. I mean, fuck it, why not just let them come over anyway? If we’re getting married then I’m going to have to meet your friends eventually.” a sort of half-smile crossed her face as she looked at James. 
“Really?” he asked, turning to face her, “You wouldn’t mind if they still came over?” 
“Not at all!” 
“Wicked.” James grinned, “I’ll have to try and convince mum now.” 
Somehow, James managed to convince his mother to allow his friends to stay and they arrived a few days later. w fresh faces around. The two boys bounded down the driveway and tackled James into a somewhat clumsy hug, lanky adolescent limbs all over the place. James laughed and greeted his friends fondly.  
“So, this is the future wife then?” one of James’s friends grinned as he introduced them, “I’m Sirius. Pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry that you have to marry this prat.” 
“Not as sorry as I am.” Y/N mused. Sirius was just as tall as James but had a slightly more slender build. His dark hair falling straight down to his jawline, unlike James’s messy curls.   
“It’s a rough deal, I’ll admit.” The other one said. He was taller than both James and Sirius and awkwardly held a hand out for Y/N to shake as he introduced himself, “I’m Remus, by the way.” 
“Thanks for the condolences.” she laughed, “I’m Y/N.” 
James seemed to loosen up a bit now that his friends were here. Y/N had barely seen him smile the last few days. He’d spent the majority of his time moping around the house trying to come up with a plan to get them both out of this mess. 
They decided to go and explore the surrounding countryside, the boys were keen to show Y/N the places that they had gone when they were growing up. James had said he felt too cooped up in the house, like they were constantly being watched by his parents and was eager to get out.  
They meandered around the grounds of Potter Manor, the boys occasionally sharing anecdotes about the summers that they used to spend at the Potter’s. Sirius pointed out the tree that James fell from when he broke his arm when he they were 12. The boys all looked at it fondly like it was one of the seven wonders of the world.   
Sirius and Remus, much like James, were charming and playful and Y/N was pleased with how well they managed to mesh with her sense of humour. She realised, over the course of the afternoon, that Sirius had a particular way of speaking that made her heart flutter. There was something about it, deep, silky and rich like melted chocolate. A certain kind of gentleness to the way his voice carried that felt like he could make whoever he was speaking to feel as if they were the centre of his attention.  Y/N felt a pang of guilt in her stomach as she tried to push the thoughts of Sirius from her mind.   
As the sunlight began to fade into the afternoon sky, the group made their way back to the manor. Y/N knew that they would soon be sitting down for dinner, but she wasn’t quite ready for their afternoon to be over quite yet. She had gotten to know the boys better and was having fun hearing the stories of their school days. The idea of going back to an awkward dinner with James’s parents was unsettling. 
Dinner was a bit of a bust; James’s parents were once again preaching the joys of settling down young and the importance of family and tradition. James seemed to be trying his best to get through the meal without any trouble, occasionally shooting an apologetic look at Y/N. Sirius and Remus sat awkwardly opposite them, doing their best to dodge the Potter’s invasive questions about when they themselves would get married. 
Every so often, Sirius would nudge Y/N’s foot with his own under the table. It first started when Mrs Potter made a comment about wedding dresses, but as dinner went on, it became more and more frequent. He would tap his foot against hers, then when she would look up at him he would pull a face or wink at her. She tried her best to focus her attention on the food in front of her, but it was hard not to be distracted by Sirius’s constant prodding under the table. The gesture felt flirty, and despite her efforts to resist, she couldn’t help but look back at him every time they made contact.  
The first time that Y/N and Sirius were alone together was a few nights later when Y/N got up in the middle of night to get a drink. She was restless and unable to sleep, still not used to the unfamiliar house that she was now living in.   
Sirius was already in the kitchen when she got in there, hoisted up on the kitchen counter, dimly lit from the small stream of moonlight that shone in from outside. 
“Mrs Potter will kill you if she sees you sitting up there.” Y/N whispered. Sirius snapped his head round to look at her, clearly not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. He rolled his eyes and chuckled. 
“Let her try.” he said, not seeming too worried about the potential consequences of his behaviour. He stayed put on the counter, looking down at Y/N with a mischievous grin.   
“On your head be it.” she shrugged, grinning at him, “What are you doing up so late anyway?” 
“Couldn’t sleep.” he shifted his legs so that he was now sitting cross-legged on the counter, “What about you? Doing a bit of late-night wedding planning? 
Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes. She had spent so much time over the last few days trying to resist his playful flirting, but he was making it increasingly difficult. With every smile and joke, she felt herself warming up to him. 
“Oh, of course,” she scoffed, “I was just about to draw up the first draft of our wedding invitation.” 
“Well, if you need a hand writing them out then I’ll have you know that I have lovely penmanship.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Y/N said, “But I’m hoping it doesn’t get that far.” 
“How are you feeling about everything?” he asked gently, his face becoming more sombre. 
“I mean, James is lovely and all but...” her voice trailed off for a moment, “I’m not in love with him. I don’t want to marry him, and he doesn’t want to marry me.” 
Sirius just nodded, for once in his life at a loss for what to say. Y/N crossed the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. She pulled herself up onto the other counter, opposite Sirius. 
“Y’know, I nearly ended up marrying my own cousin once,” He said bluntly. Y/N spluttered, nearly spitting her drink out. “You think yours and James’s families are mental? You should try meeting mine.” 
Wait, what?” she asked, looking at him in disbelief.  
“Yep. Old fashioned family traditions. Similar situation to you and James. They wanted me to settle down and get married and move out of the family home.” he said, “Guess that’s one thing we have in common then. Our fucked up families.” 
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Sirius’s crassness, but she felt a sense of validation knowing that someone else knew exactly what she was going through. 
“Yeah, I guess it is,” she said with a small smile, “So, what happened? How did you get out of the marriage?”  
“I ran away. Came to live with the Potter’s for a few weeks until school started again. I didn’t tell them exactly why of course. James and Remus knew and obviously thought it was hilarious.” his smile quickly faltered, “Haven’t seen my parents since.” 
“Well, I’m glad you escaped.” Y/N said softly. She could see that the situation with his parents was still very raw and painful for him, as much as he tried to brush it off. 
“Yeah, me too.” 
They stayed in the kitchen chatting for hours. Y/N told Sirius about her childhood and her school years and he exchanged stories about his childhood before he ran away. They only realised how much time had passed when a small chink of sunlight streamed through the window.  
“Shit. I didn’t realise the time.” Y/N gasped, hastily standing up. 
“Time flies when you’re having fun, eh?” Sirius grinned, he slid off the counter, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of her, “I’ll see you in a bit.” 
His comment made her face flush and she hoped that he hadn’t noticed it in the dim early morning light. She quickly composed herself and nodded at Sirius. 
“See you,” she said, trying to ignore the feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. 
Y/N and James seldom spent any time alone together with Sirius and Remus staying at the Potters. Secretly, she was grateful, it was nice to have a bit of a buffer between her and James sometimes, his two friends seemed to make the whole ordeal a lot less awkward.   
“Are you busy?” James asked, suddenly appearing at her side in the kitchen the next morning. She hadn’t even heard him walk over. His voice caught her off-guard, and she jumped slightly, turning back to face him. 
“No, why? Is everything okay?”  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” he said quickly, “Everything is fine. I just wanted to...talk. To you.” James’s tone was more solemn than normal, his thick, dark eyebrows knitted together seriously. 
A long moment of silence passed between them before Y/N eventually nodded and followed James. He led her upstairs towards his bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind them. He gestured for Y/N to take a seat but remained standing himself. Her eyes widened in anticipation as he took a deep breath.  
“I’m not really sure what the best way to tell you this is so I’m just going to come out and say it.” he began, “I overheard mum and dad speaking last night and well... they’ve set a date for the wedding.” 
Y/N felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She had been enjoying the lull in the situation and felt like she had momentarily forgotten that anything had been wrong. James’s words hit her like a ton of bricks, and she slumped back in her seat, feeling completely stunned.  
“W-what? When?” 
“Next month.” James said with a pained expression, “It’s fast, but it seems like it’s the only way to satisfy our parents. They’ve set a date, so... I guess it’s happening.” 
He crossed the room to sit next to Y/N on the bed. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. Y/N looked down at their intertwined fingers, it was the first time that they had ever really touched each other. She was suddenly painfully aware of how close James’s body was to hers. They were sitting side by side, their legs touching and their hands together. A wave of heat washed over her, and she forced herself to meet James’s gaze.   
James, for his part, was trying very hard to keep his emotions in check as well. He grabbed Y/N’s hand without really thinking about what he was doing, in his head it just felt like it was the right thing to do. He held her gaze for a moment before finally speaking again. 
“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” he said, his voice softer now. Y/N nodded slowly, unable to look away from him. She looked down at their hands again, her lips parted slightly as she searched her head for words.  
“I don’t know...” she finally said, “I don’t know how to feel.” 
“I understand.” he nodded in acknowledgment, “This isn’t what either of us wanted.” He paused for a moment, releasing her hand from his and raking his fingers through his curls.  
“I know the situation is shit and I know that we haven’t spent a lot of time together.” he continued, “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy spending time with you. I mean, like... as a person. I don’t know, maybe if we got to know each other a little better it’ll all be okay.” 
Y/N was taken aback by the way that James spoke so openly and honestly about his feelings. He didn’t sound like the angry person he was the first time they spoke about their marriage. This side of him was entirely different and she liked it. Despite everything that was going on, she felt strangely comforted by the way he was speaking so candidly. 
“I feel the same way. I suppose we don’t really have another option, do we?” said smiled sadly, “I know it’s going to be hard, but I’m sure we can get through this together.”  
“We can always divorce, eh?” James chuckled. Y/N let out a laugh, caught off guard by the way James quickly slipped back into his normal jovial self. 
Over the next few days, Y/N spent most of her time avoiding James’s parents, in hopes that if they put off seeing them for long enough, they might just forget about the wedding all together. The four of them would try and spend as much of the day as they could outside of the house, often wandering down into the town or to the pub. Y/N’s late night conversations with Sirius had become a staple of her stay with the Potter’s and she found herself looking forward to their nightly rituals more over the next few days. She had quickly got used to sneaking down to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. Their conversations had become increasingly more intimate, though for some reason, she still hadn’t broken the news to him about the date of the wedding.  
That night, she met up with Sirius after everyone else had gone to bed, slipping out of her room and making her way down to the kitchen. The house was silent and still, and she felt a rush of excitement as she laid her eyes on Sirius, him staring back at her with a wide grin.  
“I was wondering when you’d be joining me.” Sirius said calmly. Y/N returned the smile, taking a seat on the counter. Though, tonight, she strayed from her usual spot on the opposite side of the kitchen and sat next time him. 
“You’re quite predictable, you know?” she teased, “the last three nights you’ve been in the kitchen, maybe you ought to start changing it up a little.”  
She adjusted her position on the counter, trying to make herself more comfortable. Sirius smiled back playfully and for a moment, they just sat in companionable silence. Just as it had happened earlier with James, Y/N noticed the way that Sirius’s knee was touching hers. Although, this time she didn’t feel the need to yank it away, she just let it rest against hers.  
“James told me the news.” Sirius stated, “It’s shit.” 
“Yep.” Y/N laughed at his bluntness, “In less than a month I’ll be a married woman.” 
“You don’t like him very much, do you?” 
“It’s not that I don’t like him – I think any girl would be lucky to have him. I mean, he’s lovely and all but...” her voice trailed off. 
“You just don’t like him like that.” Sirius finished for her.  
Y/N hummed in response, her eyes trailing down to where their knees were touching and then back up to Sirius’s eyes. He was looking straight back at her, as if his eyes were searching hers for exactly how she was feeling. The moment felt charged, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him. She knew he was waiting for her to say something and she was quickly overcome by a wave of self-consciousness that left her unable to speak.  
After what felt like an eternity, Sirius’s hand inched its way over until it was hovering over her knee. Slowly, but surely, his fingers placed themselves over her own.  The heat between their two bodies was almost unbearable. She could feel her heart racing and she was almost certain that if he listened hard enough he would be able to hear it. Her fingers instinctively tightened around his. 
“I just really don’t know what to do.” she found her voice after a moment, looking up at him.  
Once again, his eyes locked with hers for a moment before they fluttered shut, his body angling towards hers, head tipped down and his lips brushing against her own. Instinctively, his hand reached up to cup her face, thumb stroking across the softness of her cheek. After a moment, she pulled away, her focus on his lips for a fleeting moment before forcing herself to look away. She felt like she had just been electrocuted, feeling dizzy with the rush of emotions. Sirius, for a few moments, looked like he was too stunned to speak. He looked down at their intertwined fingers and quickly drew his away. 
“I should go.” he said, sliding down from the counter. He barely looked at her before swiftly making his way out of the kitchen. Y/N didn’t move, just stared after him as he left, her hands stayed where they were on the counter, her fingertips still tingling from Sirius’s touch. 
They managed to avoid each other for the rest of the week, their brief moment of intimacy being pushed to the back of both of their minds. Y/N was doing her best to avoid thinking about Sirius, and Sirius was trying his best to avoid thinking about Y/N.  
James had spent an awful lot of time by her side over the last few days, and while she appreciated the distraction, every time James spoke to her she got a horrible sick feeling in her stomach. She felt like her heart was being ripped into two, feeling torn between her attraction to Sirius and her engagement to James. 
You’ve seemed off the last few days, is everything alright?” James asked one afternoon as they were sat together in the living room. Y/N looked up from the book that was resting on her lap. 
“I’m fine.” she said, “How come you haven’t gone out with the others?”  
“Remus wanted to go to the pub and I didn’t fancy it.” he shrugged.  
“You’re not just staying here for me, are you?”  
“No.” James laughed, “Not just staying here for you, no. But I would like to be spending time with you.” 
Y/N felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she looked back down at her book, trying to avoid James’s gaze.  
“I’ll be spending a lot of time with you for the rest of my life. Might as well start getting used to it.” he grinned.  
“Hey, mind if I ask you something?” James asked after a few moments of silence. 
“Go ahead.” 
“I was just wondering, if we hadn’t been forced into this whole engagement thing, how do you think you would feel about me?” 
Y/N froze, uncertain of what she should say. She wanted to be honest with him but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Her mind flicked back to the conversation she had had with Sirius and the kiss they had shared. 
“I...” she started hesitantly, her eyes still avoiding James, “It’s hard, isn’t it? Maybe if we had met in another situation it would be different but...” 
“You don’t have to lie to me,” James said, his voice gentle, “I know that none of this was how it was supposed to happen and I know that there are a lot of things about this situation that you don't like, but I think that we could still be happy together.” 
She couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the guilt that suddenly washed over her. Even if they had met under different circumstances, she still wasn’t entirely sure that things would have worked out between them. She just didn’t see James like that. She had tried to ignore it at first, but to her, it just felt like it was a fact that there was no romantic tension between them. But, to say that would be heartbreaking, so instead, she just stayed silent. 
“Y’know, Sirius said I’m mad.” James sighed and Y/N looked at him quizzically, “He thinks I’m daft for trying to find a way out of this marriage. Said I’d be lucky to have a girl as good as you.” 
“He did?” 
“Yeah, he thinks you’re great.” James moved to look at her properly, taking the book from her lap, closing it and placing it on the table so that she was forced to give him her full attention.  
Y/N immediately felt nervous as she met James’s gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, feeling even more vulnerable no that there was no escape. She was forced to look directly at James with no distractions. 
“He’s right as well. Although, don’t tell him I said that because the smug bastard would never let me live it down.” James chuckled. He moved his hand to cup her chin, shifting her face to look at him, “You are great. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re gorgeous. I mean, if the circumstances were different then I feel like-” 
“James, don’t-” 
Before she could finish her sentence, James had leaned forward, his lips colliding with hers. Y/N let out a gasp of surprise. She felt his hand tangling into her hair, the other moving down to her waist. It was like she was stuck, just sat there, allowing James to kiss her. Her body was completely overtaken by confusion.  
“What the fuck.” a voice spoke. 
Both of their heads snapped around to the doorway. Sirius was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, Remus at his side. Sirius’s expression was unreadable, and Y/N quickly pulled away from James, sinking back into her seat. 
“Ah, so this is what you two get up to when we’re not around.” Remus grinned, “No wonder you didn’t want to come to the pub with us.” 
James’s face flushed red and he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, smiling nervously. A hot wave of embarrassment flushed over Y/N and her eyes frantically flicked between James and Sirius. Sirius’s expression didn’t change, and for the first time, she noticed a certain edge to his stare. It didn’t seem like he was going to say anything at all, but he kept his eyes locked on her. 
Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t tell if she was more angry with herself for letting the kiss happen or embarrassed at the fact that they had been caught. She looked back over to Sirius, his jaw was clenched and any trace of the usual playfulness in his eyes had gone. Without saying anything, Sirius walked away and they heard the faint slamming of his bedroom door.  
“What’s his problem?” James asked.  
“Dunno,” Remus shrugged, “He’s had a few pints. You know what he gets like.” 
That night, Sirius didn’t show at their usual meeting place in the kitchen. Y/N sat and waited patiently, hoping that he would turn up so that she could explain herself to him. She wanted to tell him that it was James that kissed her, that it meant absolutely nothing to her. Her heart sank as the morning light started to stream into the kitchen and she realised that Sirius wasn’t coming.  
For days, the only time that Y/N would see Sirius was when they ran into each other at the table during meals or on the stairs. Sirius avoided her eyes when they passed each other, not even giving her a chance to speak to her before disappearing. She didn’t know what to do. She kept trying to catch his eye whenever she saw him, willing him to look at her, wanting to explain everything. But, every time, she felt as though her words would be meaningless.  
She didn’t even want to see James now. Whenever he tried to talk to her, she would avoid him and go out of her way to prevent being alone with him. It wasn’t James’s fault, and deep-down Y/N knew that.  
One night, as Y/N was on her way upstairs to bed, she ran into Sirius. He was on his way out, taking his coat off the hook in the hallway when she suddenly caught a glimpse of him. She tensed up as he looked at her, scared of what he was going to say, but all he seemed to do was stare, that same cold expression that he wore when he saw her and James kiss.  
Before she could say anything, Sirius turned around, slid on his coat and walked out of the house. Y/N watched him walk away, managing to stop the front door before it slammed shut behind him. Not even bothering to put her coat on, she slipped on her shoes and hastily followed him up the driveway. 
“What are you doing out here? Go back inside, you’ve not even got a coat on. You’ll freeze.” Sirius said bluntly when she managed to catch up to him. 
“I don’t care.” Y/N pressed, “Will you please just speak to me? You’ve been avoiding me for days!” 
“Well, I’m sorry that I don’t feel like speaking to you after I walked in on you kissing my best mate.” 
“I’m engaged to him!” 
“You told me you didn’t love him!” 
“I don’t!” 
“Then why did you kiss him?” 
They were stood facing each other now. The chilly night air nipped at Y/N’s bare skin, making the hair on her arms stand up. She could feel frustrated tears stinging her eyes and she fought hard to hold them in. 
“He kissed me.” Y/N’s voice came out strained, “I wish he didn’t. God, I wish he didn’t. I don’t know why he did it. It just happened. I don’t know – maybe he just wanted to see if there was anything there.” 
“And was there?” Sirius asked, his eyes still cold. 
“Not on my part, no.” Y/N admitted, “Not like there was when you kissed me.” 
Sirius stopped at that. His eyes locked on hers, his expression softening for the very first time. His eyebrows raised slightly, and his frown eased.  
“You mean, the kiss with me really meant something to you?” 
Y/N nodded; a shy smile crept over her face as she thought back to their kiss. The way that Sirius’s lips had felt so different to James’s. Softer, more passionate, it had just felt right in that moment. 
“Of course it meant something to me. I thought it had to you as well,” her smiled faltered for a second, “but then after you left straight away and you avoided me for days. I thought you regretted it. Then the kiss with James happened and...” 
“I did regret it. I regretted it because you’re engaged to my best friend and I'm the bloody fool that decided to fall in love with you.” Sirius’s brows furrowed, “I just felt like I fucked up. God, you’re getting married.” 
Sirius raked a hand through his hair, his head tipped back. He looked up towards the sky, the inky, dark night sprinkled with stars. He sighed and then looked back at her. 
“I just wish we could have met under a different circumstance.” he said sadly, “without everything being so complicated.” 
“Me too.” 
She couldn’t help the aching feeling in her heart. Feeling as if the world was so cruel to throw them together this way. His eyes locked on hers, a deep well of sadness in them. 
“We should go back inside; you’ll catch your death out here.” Sirius said, placing a hand on her arm and trying to guide her back to the house. 
“Where were you going anyway?” she asked, “When you walked out?” 
“God knows.” 
They walked back to the house in silence, the only sound being the creaky stairs as they made their way back to their bedrooms. She could feel the tension in the air, like they both wanted to say something but couldn’t. When they reached the top of the stairs, without saying anything, Sirius placed a gentle hand on her cheek and turned her to face him. 
Gently, Sirius pulled her towards him, sliding one arm around her body so her chest was just brushing against his. His other hand moved up to cup the back of her neck, his fingertips brushing gently against her skin. He pulled her in closer and she tipped her head back to look at him, their lips just inches away from each other. 
He didn’t wait a second longer. His lips found hers, pressing against them as he kissed her deeply. One hand slid down to rest on her waist, the other tangling in her hair, pulling her body flush against his.  
For the first time that night, Y/N wasn’t thinking about all the complications, she was just basking in the moment, happy to feel the electricity between them once again. The kiss was much longer than their last, much more passionate. Y/N ran her fingers through Sirius’s hair. Every inch of her was pulled towards him, desperate to cling onto him. She wanted it to last forever, her arms wrapped around his neck, his body melted against her own, her lips on his. She would have given anything for time to stand still. 
All too soon, the kiss ended. Sirius’s lips moved away from hers. Their breathing was loud in the silence. The two of them stood there for what felt like an eternity, both refusing to look away. 
“What do we do now?” Y/N asked softly. 
Sirius paused before answering, his eyes flicking back down to her lips. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something but no words came out. Instead, he just tilted his head down and kissed her again, sweetly this time. 
“I’ll do whatever it takes if it means I get to do that again.” Sirius whispered, his lips still touching hers. 
“But what about James?”  
Her question brought them both crashing back to reality. Sirius let out a deep exhale as he looked away.  
“Let me worry about that.”  
James was in the kitchen the next morning when Y/N went to get breakfast. Much like herself, he was an early riser and was sat at the kitchen table when she walked in. The golden glow of the sunlight lit up the room, bathing James in its warmth.  
“Morning.” he smiled, looking up at her. His voice was still thick with sleep and his curls were falling messily over his forehead. 
Y/N smiled back despite her stomach churning with anxiety. She had spent most of the night unable to sleep, replaying last night’s events in her mind. Despite James being completely oblivious to what was happening with Sirius, she could barely stomach being in the same room as him. 
James kicked the chair out that was opposite from him, gesturing for her to take a seat. She wanted to refuse, to distance herself from him as much as possible, but she couldn’t.  
“You’ve been avoiding me.” James addressed. She felt her heart immediately drop. Her eyes darted across the room, looking anywhere but back at him. 
“I could say the same.” she retorted. James raised an eyebrow at her and leaned back in his seat. 
“You kissed me.” The words had fallen from her mouth before she had even realised what she was saying.  
“I did.” An amused smile tugged on his lips. Y/N’s stomach heaved at the way he was acting so casually about it. 
“Why did you do it?” 
“To see if we both felt anything.” he shrugged. 
“And did you?”  
“Would it matter if I did?” 
It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him. He was acting so nonchalant, and it was driving her insane. James just chuckled, amused by her reaction. 
“Let’s suppose I did feel something. Would that affect anything?” he probed. 
Y/N looked away from him again, she was speechless. Her head was reeling from everything that was going on, all the conflicting emotions. A few weeks ago her and James were planning away for them to get out of the engagement, and then he kissed her and now, he seemed unfazed by the whole situation. 
“It wouldn’t.” he answered for her, “Because you didn’t feel anything.”  
For a moment, the whole world seemed to freeze. Her eyes widened, shocked at how blunt he was being with her. She couldn’t deny it. She hadn’t felt anything. He was right and she hated that. 
“Fine.” she admitted, feeling her throat clench up, the words just barely forcing themselves out, “I didn’t feel anything. What were you expecting? That you would kiss me and-” 
“That there would be fireworks and we would both realise that we were actually madly in love with each other?” James said dryly, “I’m not stupid. I don’t know what I was expecting.”  
Y/N sighed and rested her head in her hands. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to process everything that had just been said.  
“I’m a good kisser, right?” he teased, breaking the silence, “I mean, you have to give me that. It wasn’t completely awful, was it?” 
“No, it wasn’t completely awful.” Y/N cracked a smiled for the first time that morning. The atmosphere between them felt lighter. She felt herself relax a little, her smile growing wider. It was nice to be able to laugh a little, even if it was due to the awkwardness of the situation. 
“Did you sort everything out with Sirius?”  
“What?” Y/N spluttered, nearly choking on the intake of breath. 
“C’mon, I’m not thick.” he smiled, “All this ‘you’d be daft not to marry her’ nonsense. He couldn’t make it any more obvious.” 
Y/N’s heart felt like it was beating a million times a minute, the blood pumping through her body as she tried to think of a way to get her out of speaking about Sirius. 
“I didn’t... we didn’t... nothing happened.” she stumbled over her words. It was clear that she was terrible liar because she only managed to keep it up for a few seconds before she let out a massive sigh. 
“You’re the worst liar I have ever met, you know that?” James laughed.  
She sighed again, realising that she had no choice but to come clean. James was right – he wasn’t stupid and his suspicions were spot on. 
“Fine.” she groaned, “We kissed. Twice actually. We’ve met up a few nights, down here and we just chatted and-” 
“You like him.” James said. 
“I like him.”  
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, both of them just stewing in the silence. Y/N tapped her fingers anxiously on the table, trying to think of something to say. 
“I’m sorry.” she decided on. 
“Don’t be sorry.” 
Y/N felt completely lost. He didn’t seem angry, or disappointed. He seemed almost understanding and she couldn’t wrap her head around it. She looked up at him, slightly surprised by his reaction. 
“You don’t care?” she asked incredulously. 
“Nope.” he smiled, “I think I always knew this would happen eventually. I never really believed in the arrangement. I mean, you’re great and I do like you but I don’t really want to marry you and you don’t want to marry me either. So what difference does it make that you like someone else?” 
“But your parents have booked the wedding.” 
“Fuck the wedding. I don’t care.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Our parents care more about the wedding than we ever could. They’ll get over it. They’ll find someone else for me to marry.” he finished with a laugh. 
Y/N felt like all the weight had been lifted off her shoulders, like she could breathe properly again for the first time in weeks. James was being so mature about the whole situation. She had been worrying for absolutely no reason, convinced that her entire world was about to come crashing down. 
“So, what do we tell our parents?” she asked. 
“Let me figure that out.” James said sitting up straight, “I’ll speak with both sets of parents, and we’ll see where it goes from there. In the meantime, just act normal. They don’t think that there’s anything wrong.” 
Y/N distracted herself while James was speaking to their parents by making her way up to Sirius’s room. She knocked gingerly on his door. He didn’t answer for a few moments but then she heard a shuffling sound and the door creaked open. 
Sirius looked like he had just woken up, his jet black hair slightly tussled but still perfect looking, plaid pyjama bottoms hung low on his hips. Y/N found herself staring at him for a second to long, her eyes scanning over his shirtless torso, taking in the sprinkling of tattoos that she hadn’t seen before. 
“Are you going to come in or are you just going to stare at me all day?” a cocky smirk spread across his lips. He stepped to the side, allowing her to enter his room and shut the door behind her. He leaned back against his bed, his eyes wandering over her, not bothering to conceal the fact that he was watching her as well.  
Neither of them spoke as they drank each other in. Y/N’s eyes darted around the room, noticing for the first time all the little details. The posters that had be messily taped to the wall, the stacks of books by his bed, even the smell of the room, all the subtle hints of him. 
“I told James.” she said, breaking the silence. 
“It’s a bit early to be dropping bombshells like that.” his mouth was curling up at the corner. 
“We don’t all sleep in ‘til noon,” she teased. Sirius just rolled his eyes at her. 
“D’you think I slept at all last night?” he nudged her, “How did he take it?” 
“Better than I expected, actually. He said he knew something was going on between us anyway. Said you spoke... highly of me.” she said, choosing her words carefully. 
“Oh, yeah?” he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, eyes sparkling mischievously “What did he say?” 
“That you said he’s daft not to marry me.” 
Sirius snorted in amusement, leaning back on the bed and crossing his arms. 
“I was that obvious, was I?” he laughed, “I guess he’s not as thick as I thought he was.” 
“I think it was more obvious when you stormed off when you walked in on him kissing me.” she joked. The pair of them laughed at the thought of Sirius’s dramatic exit. “He didn’t seem bothered at all. I mean, we both agreed that this engagement was stupid. It’s just an excuse for our parents to get involved in our lives. There’s no real reason for us to get married.” 
“So, what now?” he rested one of his hands on her thigh, “the marriage is off, I’m assuming. So, what’s the plan – we run away into the sunset together?” 
“In a perfect world, I would love to do just that, but we both know it’s not going to be that easy.” her smile faded slightly, “James is breaking the news to our parents. God knows what he’s going to tell them.”  
“Well, I suppose we just have to wait and see.” 
He pulled her towards him, letting her head rest on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, embracing her properly for the first time. She felt like she melted into him, simply just existing in his arms. Sirius rand a hand down her arm, taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, letting it linger for a few seconds. 
Every sense of her body seemed to come alive all at once. The scent of his skin mingling with the like smell of his cologne, the sound of his breath and the feel of his gentle touch running over her skin. She felt herself get lost in the moment, forgetting the past and ignoring the future. For now, she felt content. 
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professional-yapper · 4 months
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Moron.
Aonung x Reader
(cus I kind of liked the enemies thing I had going with aonung in the Lo'ak piece)
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Aonung is the biggest moron you know. You can say that with total confidence, and do. Often.
Sometimes to his face, sometimes to others, sometimes to the back of his head as he turns away, thinking he's won an argument. You revel in the way his ears flick back to catch what you shout at him, and the way his broad frame swings around to come after you again, which is usually your sign to take off running.
It's your normal. Yours and his.
He can always rely on you to bring him crashing back down to earth when he's done something noteworthy.
And you can always rely on him to attempt to beat the shit out of you at any given moment, with the slightest provocation.
It's not like you can't hold your own. Sure, you're not equal to him in build or height, but you're a pretty good fighter, if you do say so yourself.
And it's not like anyone stops you two from scrapping, anyway. His dad practically encourages it, says it's healthy. His mum just rolls her eyes with fond exasperation and looks in the other direction.
Yeah. It's been this way for as long as you can remember. Right from day one, his mum says. You were born within a week of each other, and used to have the most vile screaming competitions as babies. It's nice to see some things never change, you guess.
Until they do start changing.
You and Aonung can't stay angry little kids permanently at each others' throats forever. Well, you can't stay kids forever, anyway.
He's getting taller, broader, thick in the arm and in the head. He doesn't spend as much time with Tsireya anymore, something she laments about to you in private.
Ah, yes, that's another sore spot for Aonung. Tsireya adores you. Maybe it's just the allure of the older kid, though not by much. You're only a year or so apart, but you've always felt the age gap even if it wasn't much. She's always been Aonung's cute kid sister, left to wail at you to stop fighting from afar for always.
You've only grown closer to Tsireya as of late, bonding over boys and girls, and going for walks on the shore to see what the tide washes in.
And of course, talking about Aonung. Well, it's mostly you talking- well, complaining, while she sits with a weird look on her face. You guess it's because he is her brother after all, and he's nice to her.
He starts hanging out with some new guys, all equally as moronic as him. They feed off each others' stupidity like a bunch of little vampires.
Which, of course, has nothing to do with you. After all, you're finding new friends too. Guys, girls, people you've never spoken to before on account of being constantly at odds with Aonung, which, believe it or not, doesn't leave a hell of a lot of time for socialising.
But you're both growing up now, growing apart, growing more mature... Well, in most ways. You still come to blows, though less frequently by the day. You find yourself missing the familiarity of it, even if you hate him.
You find yourself chasing the high that came with fighting with him, the high of having blood coursing down your face and not knowing who's, the sting of a cut, the ache of limbs, and the throbbing of bruises left behind.
Yeah, as many friends as you're making, you're making a few enemies too. You're just naturally volatile, you explain, you can't help the fact that your first instinct was to shove the guy when he accidentally bumped into you. You still think it was on purpose, anyhow.
However, you'd expect your friends to be the ones pulling you off the unfortunate kids who have fallen victim to your temper and ache for the high that no longer comes so easily or so often.
But they're not.
That's the weird part, the part that annoys you.
It's always Aonung dragging you off. You don't even know how he's always there when you're getting into a fight. He's got new friends, a new group, new hobbies, new responsibilities as future chief and warrior, basically a whole new life that has nothing to do with you.
But, regardless, it is always him hauling you off, no matter when or where. You've come to expect it like you once expected his fist flying at your face. A heavy hand on the back of your neck, an arm around your waist, fingers locking around your tail. Plucking you off whoever you're fighting like you weigh nothing. Which doesn't help your temper.
At all.
Today is one of those times. You couldn't help it, you honestly couldn't. They shoved you first this time. A rarity, you'll admit, but it's all you need to get on your little high horse and plead that you were unfairly provoked.
You're rolling back and forth with them on the ground, their hand fisted in your hair, your legs locked around their waist, both of you hissing in each others' faces like cut hoses. You're dusty and sweaty and bruised and bleeding in at least half a dozen places, and this is the best you've felt in months.
You roll your tongue over your fangs, the taste of blood raw and blunt in your mouth, taking a brief respite as you manage to pin them down for more than half a second, your knee pressing cruelly into their arm. They squeal like a stuck ilu, grabbing at you with their free hand, nails dragging down your side. The stinging sensation is welcome.
What isn't welcome is the sudden intrusion into your rather bloody bliss. Hands hooking under your arms, lifting you clear like a misbehaving pet, and setting you down on your feet with a bump that sends ground shock rippling up your calves.
You stare defiantly into Aonung's cold face, planting your hands on your hips, blood trickling down your forehead and beading on your lashes, but you don't blink it away. You take in a dusty, ragged breath, preparing to start shouting at him for always meddling in your shit, because, after all, he chose to push you out of his life and what you do as a result of that is none of his fucking business.
But you don't get a chance. He plants a hand on your shoulder and shoves you backward. Hard. "Walk," he says in a tight voice.
You do so unthinkingly, turning and marching off, only cursing yourself for your blind obedience a few steps later. But you didn't really feel like arguing with him after all. What was the point? He wouldn't fight you. He never fights you anymore. You miss that. You wonder if he'd even react if you punched him in his fat mouth right now beyond gazing at you with those cold eyes.
You hunch your shoulders and let your mouth thin into a line as you walk, heading away from the small crowd that had gathered to witness your outburst. You're shaking a little now.
"Here's fine," Aonung says from behind you, but you don't listen this time, planning to walk until you reach the water and can swim off, deep down into the cool dimness.
He grabs you by your tail, and you should've expected it, really, but you still whirl around, snarling, lips curled over your fangs, ears tilting back, hands outstretched to claw his Eywa-damned eyes out.
He catches you by the wrists and pulls you in, using your momentum to do so.
You stumble, smack your forehead on him and reel back, cursing him out, trying to touch your head, feel for any new injury, but he doesnt let you go.
"Stand still for once in your fucking life, you idiot. Listen to me," Aonung hisses, pulling you in once again while you're distracted. It's like a stupid game of tug o'war.
"I am listening," you fire back, still trying to free yourself, contemplating kicking him in the thigh or the stomach to pry yourself free. "See my ears? See how they're attached to my head? See-"
"Why can't you just grow up?!" he snapped, shaking you a little. "You're such a child!"
"And you're such a moron," you snap back, but you subside a little at the blunt admonishment. "Why can't you just stay out of my life?!"
"I'd be able to if you stopped fighting other people!" he hissed.
"I can fight who I want!"
"So why don't you want to fight me anymore?!"
Sudden, abrupt, overwhelming silence.
Aonung's ears flatten against his head and he releases you, stepping back. You'd say he looks like he's been slapped but you're an expert on what he looks like when he's been hit and that is not a face he makes. You don't know what face that is. Embarrassment? Confusion?
You're confused. And say so.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You don't want to fight me! You're too good for a little scrapping here and there all of a sudden, big guy?" you scoff, knowing you're severely understating the level of your fights but not caring enough to correct yourself.
"Well, I thought I did, but that was before-"
Aonung stops again.
You want to jump him. Hit him until he starts acting like himself again. "Before what, dickhead?! What happened that made you too good for me all of a sudden?! Because you're the future chief, a warrior in training, you can't even argue with me anymore? I mean, fuck, forget arguing, you won't even look at me! I don't know what I did and whatever it was, I-"
Oh boy. You've never been the type to cry when you get angry, but you're so frustrated and overwhelmed right now the tears are practically crying themselves. They well up, quivering on your lash line for a half-second, forcing you to look at him with blurry vision, then roll down your cheeks despite your best efforts to wipe them away.
"I-" you try to continue, hiccuping now. "I wish I hadn't, because I just want things to be normal again, I want things to go back to the way they were-" Words escape you and you settle for crying with frustration and rage, looking at him as he still says nothing.
"They can't, okay?" he snaps. "They can't fucking go back! Get that through your head! We can't fight like we used to! It's not the same, I can't fight you and hate you and argue like I used to when-"
"Don't you dare fucking clam up on me again, you bitch," you hiccup, pointing at him, scrubbing away your tears with your other hand. "I have a right to fucking know why I can't fight you, and I can't fight other people, and-"
"I can't keep hurting you when all I can fucking think about is kissing you!" he hisses, hands forming fists at his sides, tail lashing behind him. "And I can't keep letting you get hurt either!"
You still, your feeble attempt to hide your tears forgotten, staring at him like he's grown two heads. Something in your chest twists savagely as you absorb his words silently.
"Don't look at me like that, like I'm some kind of monster for loving you. Yell at me, try to hit me, cuss me out, anything. Just don't look at me like that," he says, voice hitching and beginning to tremble as he speaks.
"What am I supposed to do with that love?" you ask quietly. "Don't say return it. I don't know if I can. Or if I want to. I mean, maybe I do want to but that's mostly just stemming from the fact that you haven't spoken to me in months or even come near me except from stopping me from fighting people, and I don't think it's fair of you at all to-"
"No, I know it's not," he said a little brokenly, and you hated that, maybe even more than you hated him. "I know it's not fair, just... please. Tell me you feel nothing for me, that us being practically attached at the hip since we were kids means nothing to you, that you don't even hate me, you just don't care about me."
You hated seeing him like this. You'd never seen this side of him and you never wanted to see it again. You could tell him that maybe it wasn't hatred and if it was hatred in the beginning it had evolved to a sort of messed up attachment, and if you dug long enough you'd probably find some kind of affection for him in your angry little heart. That might make him stop looking at you that way.
You just wanted him to stop looking like that, so sad and fucking pathetic. It made that same something that had twisted in your chest before twist again, but in a more painful way.
"I don't know if I do like you back," you say slowly. His shoulders slump and he raises his hands to his face, presumably to hide his expression.
You're not finished.
You step forward and take his hands, curling your fingers around them, pressing into his palms, more gentle than you've ever dared be with him. You lower them, looking into his face steadily. "But I think I could learn to. And I want to learn."
He lets out a ragged breath, expression now totally raw and hopeful, which was honestly the opposite of what you were hoping to achieve, which was sober him up out of this sad-sack thing he was in. But you think you can live with it.
"Okay," he breathes, gripping onto your hands. "A chance is all I need, I promise."
You nod and continue looking at him. Probably the longest you've really looked at him without swinging or didn't have your hands around his throat.
The silence drags on, and you're considering what to do or say next when he speaks again, shifting one of his hands from yours to touch your face. Your hand that he just released flies to his wrist, but you stop, relenting, allowing it when you realise he's just, very gently and carefully, unsticking wisps of your hair from the dried blood on your face and tucking it behind your ear. "I want to kiss you," he said bluntly. "Can I?"
You don't know if you'll like it but you figure it can't hurt to try, so you just nod, letting him cradle your jaw in his hand, still holding your other hand tightly, and let him kiss you like you're fragile, something far more delicate than you are.
It's not as bad as you thought. In fact, you like it. Probably more than you should.
Then you don't think much anymore, too distracted by his warm mouth on yours and how he tastes of sea salt.
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(challenge to myself to write a reader who isn't a little freak next time)
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bonny-kookoo · 9 months
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Jungkook
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 [Part 1]
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How come someone like him seems to be the only one who care about someone like you, when you both couldn't be anymore different?
Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, old to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters
Length: ~2k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
A/N: You can have early access to this and other selected fics on my Patreon!
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Jungkook has always been a bit of a troublemaker.
The world isn't too kind to soft hearts, and growing up, he quickly got a taste of what reality is like past his, back then, rosy tinted glasses. Having to grow up fast, no one cares much if you're exhausted by the speed of time at any point. You're supposed to earn good money, work well and a lot, be something at a young age other than a simple kid. There's no time for childhood nowadays, and he hates it, feels as if it's all a sick joke.
Kids want to be grown up's, while he as an adult just wants to be a kid again.
But even so, he also knows that the way of making room for his aggression by being violent, vandalizing and committing other petty crimes isn't right either. He's not stupid- he's just at a breaking point. Nothing makes him happy anymore, and it's tiring. Other people are happy, so why can't he be?
The social work at the hybrid care center had been a last resort from the court to get him to change- and he knows that he really got away with a slap on the wrist for the very last time- considering the fact that he broke someone's bones in an act of personal revenge, he's aware that someone else might've not gotten such a gentle verdict.
He's glad, no question- but now he's just more lost than ever.
Does he even want to be a part of a society that's clearly fucked up? After all, just one look at you reminds him why he's even gotten so angry in the first place. You're a part of a new sub-species of humans, something you couldn't control and neither ever asked for. It's a fact that you can't change and yet everyone treats you and other hybrids like lesser beings. People advocate online for hybrids rights just to then indulge in shopping sprees, buying clothes and makeup cheaply produced by or tested on exactly those hybrids they're saying they want to save. Humanity already had problems seeing members of their own species as humans. It's hilarious to him that they created such a thing such as hybrids thinking it could go well.
But humans have always been like this.
"You've got a stalker." Hana, the social worker snickers a little, making Jungkook sigh in annoyance. Not at you, but at her- however, she's not wrong.
He is being stalked.
And while anybody else would be freaking out about it, he's not- he's more or less just confused, because all the workers seem to be just as caught off guard as he himself is. Didn't they say you've been here for four years already? Surely he's not the only one who'd tried to befriend you, right?
Apparently he is, because your behavior seems to be new to everyone, even experienced staff and other permanent hybrids in the facility raising their eyebrows at your actions.
Now, you're not stalking him in a creepy way, let's get that put aside here first and foremost. You never get close to him at all actually. But you seem to expect him to eat his lunch with you at this point, and you're always somewhere in the background wherever he works. It's like long-distance-clinginess in a way, as weird as it sounds. Following his every move, while trying to stay undetected.
It made him dig up a bit more about you.
He kind of wishes he didn't.
Because the images he'd seen made him genuinely nauseous, ruining his appetite for the rest of the day, the sight of your 'cage' in your old home and your physical condition when you were found enough to stay in the back of his head for days. And it makes your tiny little efforts to cling onto him even more heartbreaking, in a way, because he isn't even particularly kind or anything. He's just acting normal.
And maybe that's what you need.
"Hey." he kicks your socked foot with his boot, not looking at you directly because he knows that makes you nervous. Eye contact seems to scare the living shit out of you, and he can't help but feel like he doesn't even want to know why exactly that is. "You've been rotting inside the entire week." he says, and you shrug. He's noticed that too. While you don't talk, it's not like you don't communicate like he's been told. In fact, you're quite the chatterbox if any of the workers would make any effort to interpret even just the basics of body language, but he just assumes they're all too busy with the other hybrids.
He can't even be mad at them. The care center is horribly understaffed.
"No, none of that." he makes a disagreeing sound in his throat. "Go get your shoes or something. You can stalk me outside, get some fucking sunlight and fresh air." he mumbles, and thoroughly expects you to just stay seated with no reaction. But you slowly get up and dig out your shoes from a very corner. They're dusty, he notices. How long has it been since someone took you outside?
Fuck, he can feel himself getting angry again.
It's unfair how you're just left to rot away in this place, even if it's better than living homeless on the streets as a stray. It's not life you're living here. You're just existing, waiting for the end to come. He makes a mental note to maybe buy you new shoes. Cheap ones, so you don't feel bad. But these gray and torn sneakers won't do.
Outside, he helps staff with heavy lifting and other work that requires muscle- something he enjoys. Taking off his sweater due to the heat, he's quick to notice you in the shade of the trees, sitting on a stone away from the other hybrids. "It's been a long time since she's been outside on her own accord." hana says in an almost melancholic way. "I wish we had more time for her. But there's always gonna be the one's that get left behind."
Jungkook doesnt answer. All he wants to do is swear anyways.
Out of the corner of his eyes he can see how you're slowly taking interest in the things around you; cars driving past the yard gates, people walking, bustling city just a few meters away from you. Your ears twist and turn to catch all the sounds, but you don't seem anxious. He wonders what you're thinking. "I'll get your food, don't worry. You can take a break outside with her, it's a somewhat special occasion after all." Hana smiles, before walking inside with the other hybrids, leaving Jungkook and you almost alone apart from some staff who continue to clean the yard through their breaks.
"You like car rides?" Jungkook wonders, sitting down on the blanket someone had laid out for you a little earlier. He wipes his slightly dirty hands on his pants without much care, before looking around. "I fall asleep if I'm not the one driving." he shrugs, earning a poke from you finger to gain his attention. You motion to him, then to a car. He chuckles a little. "Yeah I've got a car. And a license too, don't worry. I do follow the law sometimes." He jokes, and while there's no obvious reaction, he does spot the corners of your lips twitch.
It's a start.
You still only eat your bland hybrid pellets, not having swayed from that at all, though he did notice how you seem interested in certain snacks he brings for himself sometimes. "Hm?" he holds a small piece of cheese towards you, and for the first time, you seem to think about it.
Will he be mad if you eat it? Will staff be mad if they realize you've taken it? What if other hybrids notice?
Jungkook clicks his tongue, putting the little piece he'd broken off on top of your bowl of dry pellets, before continuing to eat himself, giving you some room to breathe by not focusing touch on what you might do.
And suddenly, the next moment his eyes find your bowl, the piece of cheese is gone. But what he also notices is your shoulders shaking a little.
"Fuck, are you crying?" he panics a little, and yes, there's small tears running down your cheeks. He takes the fabric of his own shirt he's wearing to clumsily wipe them off, earning a sound he realizes is a giggle of all things out of you. "Oh fuck you, I thought I did something wrong!" he laughs a bit relieved now, watching the way your lips curl into a smile.
You don't look at him, and that's fine- he's glad he's already made such huge progress with you.
"Come on now, ditch that shit and have some of mine today. Except if you're gonna have a mental breakdown over it or something, they're gonna behead me if they notice you're crying 'cause of me and I really need this job." he jokes, making you shake your head. You don't eat immediately, but rather take what he offers- the situation ending in Jungkook basically feeding you scraps of his lunch. Not too much at once as to not upset your stomach or anything- but it's a start.
It makes him think.
He can't adopt you since he's got a criminal record, so that's off the table. He can't even foster you because he doesn't have any training in hybrid care. But maybe, just maybe, he's got a little big trick up his sleeve- a favor from a friend that owes him big time. He knows it's yet again not quite legal what he's thinking of, but there's many people who own hybrids 'around the corner'- someone else written on paper than who there actually living with. It's not illegal- but also not quite the way it was intended.
However, all he knows is that he needs to get you out of here. So when he goes back home that day, he cleans out his apartment in a way he's not done in years. He needs to change himself to maybe have a chance in court. Prove that he's changed. Prove that with you at his side, he won't ever step out of legal boundaries again.
And suddenly, while he's busy boiling a kettle of water, an idea sparks in his head.
Yes, he thinks to himself. That might just work.
But just as he turns off the stove and grabs his keys for his car to drive over to his friend's apartment to talk to him about his plans, he realizes he's missing something.
Where's his sweater?
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acey-wacey · 1 year
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Yo! (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ I read your twst future childrens series and I love it! I searched on your posts and it seems like you only have 2(?) posts about it. I hope it doesn’t trouble you to write the same prompt/HCs but with Rook, Idia, and Lilia?
Thank you! Oh, and have a great thanksgiving!
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I think I have a new favorite series! besides enemies to lovers ofc ;)
...
🪞 Vil Schoenheit 🪞
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It was a usual busy day in the Pomefiore dorm when two little children stumbled through what appeared to be a portal of some kind.
They were a young girl, about 9, with blonde hair in two neat plaits, and a boy, just a few years younger who hid behind her leg as they examined the new setting.
"Where are we, Eloise?"
"I don't know. Stay behind me, Ansel. It could be dangerous."
Eloise guarded Ansel with her arms fiercely as they were approached by a tall figure in a Pomefiore uniform.
"What have we here?"
Vil bent down to examine the children closely and was soon assaulted with hugs from both of them.
"Vater! We got lost but don't worry, I protected Ansel very good."
Eloise released Vil from the hug and nodded seriously, seemingly standing at attention. Ansel followed suit, copying his sister's every move.
"Who are you kids? You almost messed up my makeup."
"Sorry, Vater," they sheepishly said in unison.
"I don't know how you got in here, but I'm not you father. Sevens, I do not like children."
Vil pinched the bridge of his nose as he wracked his brain for someone he knew that was good with kids.
Of course you were his first choice since you already have a bratty baby cat and operate as the school mom.
He sent one of the dorm members to bring you to Pomefiore, since he couldn't afford to leave for even a moment.
You walked to the Pomefiore dorm, very confused as to why the dorm leader himself had summoned you.
Your curiosity was not satiated when you found two little kids playing on Vil's throne while he worked.
"Who are the kids?"
Vil looked up from the color palette he had been reviewing and glanced at the kids.
"There our children apparently."
"We don't have children, Vil."
"Mama!"
Ansel jumped off the throne to grab at your arms, asking you to pick him up.
"According to Eloise and Ansel, we get married in the future, have two lovely darlings..."
Vil smiled, gesturing to the children. He had become quite fond of them.
"...And then they get transported back the where we are now."
You blinked at him, your brows furrowing as you picked Ansel up.
"We get married?"
"Yes, liebe. Keep up."
You blanked out for a few minutes there before Vil snapped in front of your face, grounding you back to reality.
"It's not that hard to believe, is it? Despite our differences, I've grown fond of you. I wouldn't have been surprised if we became sweethearts."
It was, in fact, a little hard to believe but you ignored that in favor of playing with Eloise and Ansel while they were around.
Vil wasn't shy about reminding you that you'd see them again, though it was, in partial, to see your cute flustered expression.
...
🏹 Rook Hunt 🏹
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It was the middle of the night when you were awoken by a clink noise.
You looked around until the clink sounded again, seemingly coming from your window.
You opened the window to find Rook and four children gathered around the first floor.
"What are you doing?"
"We have little ones, mon amour!"
"Who are the kids with you?"
"Did you not hear what I just said? Our babies, Y/N!"
You eventually just ran outside to assess the situation.
The children with Rook were a tall girl of a bout 10, a shorter girl with straight blonde hair, a blonde boy who looked to be a twin of the shorter girl, and a little boy that Rook bounced on his hip.
"This is Odette, Camille, Cedric, and Emmanuel," Rook introduced them and beamed.
Odette, the oldest, ran to you and hugged you around the middle.
"We got lost, maman, and then we were here and you and papa are so young now. What happened?"
You looked at Rook for clarification.
"They're our children for the future, amour! I always knew I wanted to name my oldest Odette but to have a family with you is quite a pleasant notion."
You tried to conceal your blush as Rook smirked at you and whacked his arm.
"Don't say things like that around the children."
Camille and Cedric fought quite a bit while you were all together but Odette seemed quite used to breaking them up.
They always apologized and forgot about in within an hour.
Emmanuel was rather quiet and liked being held more than anything.
It was sad when you had to send them back but Rook wasted no time bringing up their conception which you didn't appreciate at all.
...
🎮 Idia Shroud 🎮
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Ortho actually found them first.
While testing out his new flying mechanism, he spotted two children, a boy and a girl, who seemed very lost in the middle of the NRC campus.
"Hello! Are you lost?"
The boy, who looked about 8, perked up and ran at Ortho, swallowing him in a hug.
"Ortho! Where's mom and dad? We can find them anymore."
Ortho scanned the children to see who they were, but they didn't appear on any downloaded database.
"Who are you kids? I can't scan you."
"Silly unca. You don't need to scan us! It's just me and Erin!"
Ortho was so confused at the kids pack of records that he just picked them up and flew them back to the Ignihyde dorm with them laughing and cheering the whole way.
Upon being showed the children, Idia immediately recognized the blue flamey hair that didn't exist outside his family.
"Are you two like distant cousins or something?"
"Of course not, dad! It's just us! Why does nobody recognize us?" the boy put his hands on his hips and pouted.
"Sorry, I'm not your dad."
"No, you're our dad," the quiet younger girl finally spoke up with a soft embarrassed pink glow on her hair. "Dad is Idia and mama is Y/N."
Idia blue screened upon hearing your name.
He was completely frozen for so long that Ortho had to go get you from your dorm.
When you got there, you puzzles together that the children, named Matthias and Erin, were the future children of Idia and yourself that had somehow been transported to your time.
It took a good slap to the face to get Idia to come back to real life.
"Welcome back. These are our children."
"We don't have children, Y/N! I think I would remember if we ever... If we had... We don't have children!"
Matthias was much more outspoken and curious while Erin seemed to take after her father in bashfulness and dislike of socializing.
You quickly figured out that both were very clever and could use whatever tactics to get out of things they didn't like, eating vegetables, for example.
You'd seen the same stubbornness in Idia and it made you smile though you were sure it must give future you a headache.
It was sad to see them go but out of respect for Idia's heart, you chose not to mention them for a good while.
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jimalim · 7 months
Text
"About that..." Marie awkwardly beings to piggyback off the flirtatious tone switch in their current conversation. "I feel like we should probably address this sooner than later." She motions her finger between them, drawing attention to the change in their vibe.
Ever since they kissed, things have been charged, but they haven't actually talked about it. Or acted upon it again. Despite the handful of times they've come close.
Jordan clears her throat, suddenly nervous in Marie's presence. The confident air about her quickly melts away. She shifts and he stands tall. The cough in his throat deepening. He can only nod for Marie to continue, because he's completely unable to read her in this moment.
"I know we've been caught up in," Marie waves her hands, unable to narrow all the insanity down to a consise label. She pauses and watches Jordan's face, looking for signs. The way he swallows and his jaw clentches silently confims Marie's suspicions that there's insecurity on Jordan's end.
He runs a hand through his hair, "things were crazy, we got caught up..."
Marie hangs her head. It's somehow both exactly and also not at all what she was expecting. It's an easy out. An active downplay of the situation as it was. Of the way things currently are.
But things shifted that day. The tension between them lost its malice and grew with increasing anticipation. Marie doesn't think they can just ignore that.
Nor does she want to.
Jordan remains silent.
Marie grits her teeth. "Tell me something." She pauses and waits for Jordan to look her in the eye. "Do you always give up this easily?"
"What?" Jordan asks in confused exasperation. The low blow coming from out of the blue.
Marie stands, and shrugs her shoulders. "I mean it would explain how you couldn't stop Luke."
And immediately, Jordan is up behind her switching once again. She steps up to Marie ready to fight the moment she turns around. She doesn't take the accusation kindly.
The smile that grows across Marie's face feels sinister. And the realization dawns on Jordan the moment Marie's low chuckle hits her ears.
"You're an asshole." Jordan coughs in retalliation for the decieving tatic. But the grin on her face deceives her, lighting up her eyes, and Marie giggles at the sight.
"Now that's more like the Jordan Li I know."
"And how's that?" Jordan asks with trepidation yet incredible curiosity.
Marie steps closer to her, getting into her personal space. "Determined." She takes another step closer. "Driven." Another step. "Unrelenting." Jordan switches form, bracing himself as Marie steps in even further, just a breath away. "But I sense hesitation."
Jordan tightens his jaw. It's true. They're extremely nervous about what a potential relationship with Marie could look like. The implications of their gender and if/how that may effect Marie's feelings about them.
Marie places a hand on Jordan's cheek and gently traces a finger over his brow.
"If this is what you're worried about," her hand trails across the sharp edge of his jaw, down his neck to his chest, across to his strong bicep. She squeezes tight. And whispers, "don't be."
Jordan watches as Marie's hand moves. His breath hitches as her fingers tickle his neck. His heart rate increases the closer her hand gets to covering it. He closes his eyes and let's the feeling of Marie gripping his arm hold him steady as he slips away.
Jordan opens her eyes to see Marie still looking at her intently. She breaths out a shaky breath and Marie smiles at her softly.
Marie's hand reverses it's path back up Jordan's neck to cradle her cheek. Her thumb grazes Jordan's lips and Marie bites her own.
After a moment of taking each other in, Jordan grins. Any qualms she may have had about their potential washes away. The flitatious bravado she's grown accustomed to in their most recent interactions comes flooding back. "So what I'm getting is, you really wanna kiss this me too."
Marie laughs. "You. I wanna kiss you, full stop." Indicating she doesn't care what form Jordan's in. She likes Jordan as they are.
Jordan cycles through shifting forms, back and forth, male, female, male, female, again and again as they inch closer to Marie. It's like a sexy game of Russian roulette, until she finally stops.
She closes the distance between them and encompasses Marie in her arms. Their lips entangle and they pick up right where they left off. Hands exploring bodies, bodies being pushed against walls, clothes being discarded across the floor.
They just hope they don't get interrupted this time.
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