#i haven’t drawn either of these two in a while

[jodefrostwallart]

Happy Dragonyule!!

I once again participated in the Secret Starfall gift exchange on Twitter. Here’s my gift for @/addoves !

[madamechrissy]

Losing Control Now

Pairings: Mobster Gojo x bartender F!reader

Summary: Something about running the Gojo mafia just makes Satoru so bored. Boring, boring boring. Sure, he loves money, he loves women, he loves snorting snowy powder off their bodies. He loves the power that comes from it- but he's just bored. That is, until he stumbles upon you, the brand new bartender that makes him pause, falter, and then soon he becomes obsessed, with knowing you, in every single way. Paying off your mom's debts and working two jobs, you're exhausted, but something about this pretty Mob boy just makes you... excited again. How far in are you, and how far is Satoru in the mafia world? All he knows, is he must have you.

CW: Sexual content, mafia themes, drug themes, violence, obsessed Satoru Gojo, oral sex, possessive Gojo, drug use and drug dealing, lots of hurt/comfort- This part- Explicit p in v sex, public (kinda!?) sex, oral (f receiving) rough sex, spitting, choking, multiple rounds, lots of feelings, talking you through it, cervix kisses, creampie - WC this part- 8.2k wc

That Gojo art is by michi_ia on X, based on Satoru from Pour it Up (Sukuna's story) You can read it alone, but I think it enhances this

<<<part three - masterlist - playlist- Part five>>>

Part four

Satoru Gojo bought a fucking boat for your first date.

Not some tiny little thing either, it’s a gorgeous gleaming white boat gently bobbing along the dock, your jaws drop open as you look at it, then at him, and he has a bashful little smile, a blush on his perfect cheeks. How a mobster can be just so precious and adorable is still a conundrum you haven’t quite figured out, but here he is, rubbing the back of his neck now.

“I didn’t even ask if you liked boats.” He mumbles, and you burst out into laughter then, shaking your head and standing in front of him, hands sliding up his chest.

“Satoru, this is amazing. I’ve never been on one!”

“Shit, never?” You shake your head and he exhales, as if he was truly worried that a damn boat wouldn’t impress you.

“Never, this is insane, I thought we were going to dinner or something, not you buying a boat!”

“We are still having dinner, think I wouldn’t feed you?” He pulls you against him then, hands warm on your waist, making you tremble.

It feels perfect in his arms.

You two hardly know each other and yet you have never felt more at home or safe than you do with him. It should terrify you more than it actually does, but instead you’re just drawn in to him, like a moth to his pretty, bright flame. You sigh, brushing a hand across his cheek now, thumb on the jut of his cheekbone, while the wind by the water whips up around you two.

“Where did you come from, Satoru?” Your soft words pierce his heart, he leans low and presses a kiss on your forehead, feeling the warmth of your skin as the sunlight gently washes over you both, casting shadows across the soft sand beneath both of your feet.

“C’mon, sweets.” He tugs you along, smiling heartbreakingly boyish at you, and you eagerly follow him, he clearly knows something about boats according to his terminology while he gives you a whole tour. There’s even a pretty little room underneath like a little captain’s chamber, when your fingers brush against the silk of the blankets your tummy clenches.

It’s all too fast with him, you know you should take your time, you know you should maybe wait, have any kind of self preservation, but it’s almost impossible when you’re head over heels since you met him. Love at first sight couldn’t exist - could it? Was it lust or desire at first sight, or are you too afraid to admit that it could be, that you felt as if you’d always known him?

That you felt at home and safe?

That you feel better than you have in years, with someone who barely knows you but truly sees you and cares for you so much, do you even deserve him? You have to keep questioning it, if your happiness is well deserved, or if perhaps you were meant to go through it all. The depression you’ve felt is still there, the self doubt, but every moment with Satoru brings a brightness to your heart.

“Wanna steer the boat, sweetheart?” He asks then, and you nod eagerly, he laughs soft at how you bounce over, your hands nervously gripping the huge wheel, there are a couple attendants on the boat, pushing off now, while you dart through the water, and he comes behind you, arms wrapped around you on either side. “Look, you’re a whole captain.”

“Am I now?” You tease, using his help to gently guide it, it was a bit for show of course, but you feel perfect in this moment.

“Need a sexy captain’s hat. One sec.” Satoru disappears, as the soft spray brushes against your skin, and he returns with one, bright white with a line of navy blue, pretty silver emblem in the middle. “There, so fucking sexy.”

“You’re well prepared!” You giggle again, and your pretty laugh, how it scrunches up your nose, how it lights up your eyes makes every bit of anything worth it.

Satoru should be scared, right, he should hold back when he’s feeling more in moments with you than he has his entire life, but there’s so much to you, since the moment his eyes locked with you, those pretty but tired eyes looking back at him. He knew then he had to know you, you make him feel better than any drink or line could, better than any girl that tries to make him feel good.

It’s like all he can see is you.

“Should just wear that tonight.” His murmur rocks your entire body, humming just for him, while he’s leading you away, and one of the men takes over with a little nod and a smile, the two of you leaning along the rails, lit all across with pretty fairy lights, twinkling like pretty fireflies as the sky fills with colors.

“God it’s beautiful!” You do a little spin, breathless as you do, and he chuckles, hands in the pockets of his slacks as he watches you. “Satoru, can I ask…” you drift off now, back to looking at the sea beneath you two. “Why no date before?”

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck then, looking away a little now, hair blowing softly with the breeze. “Well, not gonna lie sweets I… kinda just… fuck.”

“Oh. Oh? Oh… oh!” He chuckles at your responses, as you compute it all in your mind, lips pursing. “Like, casual?”

“Yeah. They just come to me? I’ve never tried to get a girl, or tried to be with any of them. It just sort of came with the lifestyle, there are women very devoted to the main families, especially mine. Mob groupies.”

“Oh gosh.” Your cheeks heat up, for some reason, like earlier, the thought of anyone with Satoru makes you unreasonably irritated. You know it should not, but it’s still there, smacking you in the face, a possessive feeling that’s irrational but as tangible as anything.

“Yeah so, I don’t know I just had fun and cruised through life as I could, with so many responsibilities that I don’t fucking want, it just passed the time enjoyably. Though,” he brushes a hand across your jaw now, looking down at you with his brilliant eyes behind those dark shades. “I assure you, nothing feels like you.”

“Satoru…” You bury your face against his chest, he chuckles then, holding you tightly against him. “You don’t know how I feel just yet.”

“I’ll make sure she learns the shape of me, don’t worry.” His whisper brushes against your ear, you shift now, throbbing from his filthy words, he’s such a mix of it - of sweet and filthy - intoxicating as you whine out and he laughs again. “Got you excited, didn’t I?”

“Shush. You know what you’re doing.” You glare a bit, and then bury your face again, letting him hold you on the boat, in the perfect moment.

Too perfect.

For a girl who’s been dead on her feet and terrified for so long, this feels surreal - like a dream you fear you’ll get woken up from at any moment, and will do anything to stay here. Clinging to him, like you’ll lose him, like he’ll dissolve at any given moment - like he’s not even real, but he constantly reassures you with every breath that he is, with his hand slipping down your spine, leaving chills.

“Maybe I love to see your cute little reactions.” You sigh, stepping back and looking up at him, hair falling to the side when he tilts your chin so carefully, thumb brushing over your lower lip.

“I feel like this is some pretty dream, I’ve crashed at work, and my boss is gonna be mad.” He snorts, rolling his eyes at you.

“No you’re very much awake, I would know. You snored on me in the limo.”

“No way!”

“Mhmm.”

“So, Satoru, why… is this different, then? Me and you?” He nods, words stuck in his throat, part fear but also part…

How does he describe the difference?

“It’s different,” his husky words reassure you. “Very.”

“You seem like you hate and love running things, you know.” He walks you towards a pretty table that’s all set up with drinks and plates, you sit right next to him, chair screeching along the planks as he drags you close, a hand on your thigh now while you set down the hat.

“Sukuna runs shit for me mostly, but of course I have a role to play. And yeah, I fucking hate it, it’s not my choice…” Your heart aches as you study him, you still have so much to learn, even though you surely felt as if you’ve known him forever. “My parents died, and I had to take over. I was eighteen.”

“Shit, Satoru, I’m so sorry.” You blink back tears, and he shakes his head, shooting you a sad little smile.

“Don’t be, I didn’t know them well. I kind of knew mom a bit, but they lived a certain lifestyle, while I was raised to be the leader of their family - shit a kid really shouldn’t be dealing with, shoved on me.” He rolls his shoulders a bit, the pout on his pretty face making your heart break. “I knew my role.”

“And there’s no like… getting out of it?” He shakes his head.

“The best I can do is have a good crew of men, and I do. I have my best friend Suguru, you know Sukuna and Toji too already. Choso also seems to be a good dude. Together we handle the shit, we keep people safe in our territory, I don’t mind that. What I mind is all the other shit, I hate fighting, even if I’m really fucking good at it.”

You run a thumb across his knuckles, roughened from likely many fights. “I get what it’s like to feel trapped. Not my whole life, but I get it.”

“I know you do, and I wish you didn’t.” He squeezes your hand now, and you give him a shaky little smile.

“You’ve made things so much better so quickly.” His cheeks tinge a bit pink, as if he’s uncomfortable with the praise.

“I just helped out.”

“No, it’s much more than that.” He sighs now, shrugging a broad shoulder as if all his actions were some mere trifle, and not already life altering. “Satoru, I was in a dark place before I met you.”

“Shit…” He swipes a tear that falls, pressing his lips against your hairline, holding you close against him.

“Very dark. Bad, Satoru, really bad. When I met you… everything brightened for me.” You keep blinking tears that fall off your lashes, he’s kissing them away as he holds you close, and the food starts coming out. Your lips kiss his neck as you hide your face for a moment, overwhelmed.

“Shh, it’s all okay. You’re fucking tired, I know.” You’re nodding, warm tears spilling against his skin, while he holds you even more tightly, before pulling back, the aromas of the delicious smelling food mixing with the salt in the air.

“I’m awake with you.” He sighs at that, smiling a bit.

“Let’s eat, hmm? You live off red bulls and ramen, I’m worried about you.”

“Hey it’s got lots of b vitamins, red bull you know, Mr. Snorts Coke off women.” He sticks his tongue out and you burst into a fit of laughs again, affection makes his heart ache at the sound, as he falls deeper so quickly.

There’s no avoiding the truth.

“I will only snort coke off you from now on. Did you think I would for anyone else?”

“You did off Sukuna’s girl.”

“Well I didn’t meet you yet. You’re so possessive!”

“Maybe.” He sighs now, taking a fork and a bite of food off the plate, placing it between your lips, you chew it thoughtfully, eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

“You’re all mad about Mei, mad I snorted coke off your friend, I’m expecting you to start swatting at the strippers soon.”

“Well, not until you’re actually my boyfriend.” Your voice is light, but then it’s there, the question, and you grow embarrassed quickly at yourself. “Satoru, I’m not rushing you into anything, please, it was just teasing.”

“You’re just staking your claim, it’s pretty hot, pookie.” You sigh in relief at the easy way he winks, unbothered - or so it seems - when in fact Satoru doesn’t think boyfriend really cuts.

He needs to be more than that.

The wind is gently blowing your hair around your face when he watches you sip on your wine, the soft light of the setting sun casting pinks and golds across your skin, and for a moment his breath catches, seeing your tired eyes light up, your pretty smile. It makes any and everything he’d have to do to protect you worth it, your giggle as you lean forward, a hand brushing across his thigh now, making him ache for you.

“This is beautiful, Satoru. Thank you so much for this.” Your lips press on his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, the salty sea spray mingling in the air with your perfume, heady and intoxicating.

He swallows a bit, arm wrapping around you now as the two of you sit at the table, food plated by the best chefs he could hire, on his own damn boat he bought for a date, but all you can focus on is him. In his pretty blue eyes, and the way the sun is casting shadows from behind him, illuminating his tall figure when he leans low, brushing a thumb across your cheek.

It’s warmed from the sun, but soon hot under his touch, his bright blue gaze that makes your heart pound. “It’s all worth it.” He murmurs quietly, he knows you don’t grasp his meaning fully, but you kiss him softly, drinking in his sighs, while his touch drifts to the small of your back.

Anything is worth your presence.

“This food looks amazing but I doubt I can pronounce it. It’s insane.” You say softly, eyeing the plates then, and he tries to hold back just lifting you on it, swiping every fancy dish across the wood planks beneath you, and eating you instead.

He doubts that will wait much longer, not with the glimpses of thigh from your high cut dress, not with the way that necklace is dangling precariously against your collarbone that he wants to litter with bites. He takes a breath, putting on an easy smile then. “I don’t either, I just asked for super fancy shit.”

You giggle at it, his sincerity, and he grins so boyish and charming, it melts your fucking heart. “I feel like you can’t be real, and it scares me.”

“Not real?” He frowns a bit, while you take a nibble of one of the perfectly set dishes, sighing as it hits your taste buds, nodding a bit. “What’s that mean?”

“Too good for me? More than I deserve? Too amazing-”

“The fuck?” He glares at you, gripping your chin now, snowy lashes lowering as you sit there, fork clattering from your hand.

“Sorry I-”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that. You fucking deserve everything. Okay?” You blink back emotions, words that shouldn’t spill yet but threaten to, taking a shaky breath and nodding.

“I’m just so tired, Satoru. I’m sorry.” He relaxes his grip, long elegant fingers dancing along your jaw, sighing now as the boat gently dashes through the water beneath you two, and for a moment he’d like it to carry you both away. Far the fuck away. “Thank you for everything, for every moment with me.”

“Don’t thank me for it, right now all I can think of is-” Your phone starts going off then, lighting up at the table, he frowns over at the name as you sigh, ignoring the call. “Your mom?”

“She’ll stop after a few, it’s for money.” You’re so used to this, it infuriates Satoru then, the next call he answers, before you can stop him, covering your mouth in shock, eyes wide as he casually answers.

“Your daughter is on a date, Mom. She can’t give you any money I’m afraid,” you hear her yelling and panicking, but he just sips on a glass of wine, winking at you, as if to tell you he’s got it. “I’ll make a deal, leave her alone all day and night, and I’ll give you some instead.”

“Don’t do that!” Your whisper is brushed off, as he smirks, and you can’t hear her voice anymore.

“Your daughter deserves a day where she’s not carrying all your fucking burdens, mmkay? Great, I’ll send that over tomorrow, meet you soon I’m sure.” He hangs up now, eyeing your shocked face with a shrug. “She’ll leave you alone for a bit.”

“You can’t just pay everyone to leave me alone, this is my mess, it’s-”

“It’s not your mess. You got stuck with hers. And baby Imma fix it all, okay?” He cups your face with both hands, and you’re ended, any resolve, or waiting for the right time, it all falls from your brain, replaced with one thing instead-

You need him.

You need him in every way.

You slam your lips on his then, hot and desperate, he exhales and drags your body against him, until he’s picked you up, sliding plates over and stepping between your thighs, feeling the heat of your needy cunt even over the layers of his pants and the dress he’s slipping up. You cry out against him when he bites the lower lip, the one you’ve bitten to hell, the pain sharp and sweet, soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.

“I need you, Satoru,” you whisper now, eyeing him with a dilated, lidded gaze, your little hands grabbing at his dress shirt, feeling the hammering of his heart against your palm. “Please.”

Who was he to deny you anything?

“You sure, because I will fuck you right on this table. That’s how you want our first time together?” He cooes those words like the sweetest taunt, slipping your dress up your thighs as his breath caresses your lips, swollen already and stinging from his kisses.

“Yes, I do. Please.” He moans now, lips back on yours, drinking in your cries while he slips your panties to the side, fingers slipping inside your tight little hole, your cunt pulses around his digits, already so wet and eager, you’re already convulsing, hand yanking on his skinny black tie, pulling him impossibly closer. 

He’s ended by your sweet pleas, the way your mouth melds under his, cock throbbing and leaking precum against his boxers, he is losing control now, trying to wait, to give you time, but how can he anymore? He wants to carry you down to the bed, make love to you, but maybe that can wait, because he also wants to fuck you bent over on this goddamn table.

He does just that, yanking you down and shoving more things aside, bending you over the table so your legs just dangle, he hopes the men he’s paid to keep his boat running are smart enough to go the fuck away - they’re paid enough - as he gets to his knees, lapping you over your soaked panties. “Satoru!”

“Mmm, fuck…” He slides them off now, letting them fall to your ankles, tongue swiping up your sweet flavor, letting it pool on his tongue before standing, undoing his belt buckle, cock hanging heavy when he releases it, shoving your dress up your waist now. “I need you now, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning over you, lips on your ear. “She ready f’me?”

You look back, as his cock teases your entrance, the tip alone touching your engorged clit and making your cunt just slip down him, along his length and between your soppy folds, pressing just so at your entrance. You both whine out as he does, achingly slow and teasing, as if giving you a moment to adjust, his hands on either side of you on the table, gripping the tablecloth beneath your body.

“Big stretch, sweets, f-fuck you’re so tight,” his breath is hot against your neck as he stretches you, the burn so fucking delicious your ass arches up for more, he’s just a couple inches in and already you’re feeling so full. He moans, softly, easing out and pressing back in, tip dragging your spot and making your eyes roll back. “Can she take me? You sure?”

“I can, I can, mnh! Gimme as s-sec…” He chuckles as if he’s not dying, as if he’s not beyond completely destroyed by the time his cock drags along your walls, gripping him so tight like a vise, trying to milk him before he’s even fucked you. He closes his eyes, long white lashes brushing your skin, drinking up your every cry, feeling every bit of your body.

“Ready for more, then? M’barely in, baby.” You gasp at that fact, not sure just how he’d get much more, his tongue laps up a bead of sweat on the side of your neck, cock sliding back out, your wetness pouring as he does, making the next thrust even deeper. “Hah- f-fuck, there another inch, huh? We’re half there.”

“Half!?” He chuckles again, letting you adjust, plates clattering with delicate and extravagant desserts, the wind blowing gently against your skin while Satoru’s scent hits your nose, his lips brushing against your neck.

“Thought you wanted it now, that you could take it? Can’t even take half my cock in your tiny little cunt, can you?” The duality of him, of his sweet kisses and devoted actions, with him now talking shit with his thick cock stretching you out is too much, your head falls back against him now, whines echoing out while your cunt spasms.

“I can take more, just… gimme a minute.” He sighs now, reaching around finding your engorged clit and running in circles, you scream out at it, not bothering to hide just how good it feels, legs shaking as he sinks deeper, impossibly deeper, and it starts to feel so good then. “Satoru!”

“That’s it, need your pretty little clit played with, don’t you?” He’s figuring your body out like he did that night when he devoured you, pulling back again until he’s just got the tip in, you whine out at it, he pushes all the way inside, slamming into your cervix now. “Oh fuck…”

“Mnh!” You’re done for when his fingers stop momentarily, he’s bottomed out as much as he can fit in your snug little hole, that’s trying to make him cum quick with every quiver, feeling his tip drooling on that cervix. “Satoru… please…”

Fuck, he was just frozen for a moment, he instantly snaps out of it, rolling his slender fingers on the twitchy clit now, pulling back and slamming again, rolling his hips just so and feeling you begin to shatter. “That’s it, let go f’me… lemme feel you cum all over my cock, baby - let go.”

“Ngh!” At his command you do, eyes shut as your head slams down on your own arms, hands clinging and ruining the pretty white cloth while you cum so hard your brain shuts the fuck down, all it is now is pleasure, it’s all Satoru, his cock inside while you’re gushing arousal, the orgasm rushing your body. “Ohmygod ohmy- ah!”

Your screams just urge him on, he lets you ride that out, finally removing his fingers and slipping them in your mouth. “Suck them, that’s it - such a good girl,” his murmurs are met with his cock sliding almost out again, as you suck on his fingers, tasting yourself, tangy and sweet. “Ready for me now?”

Ready for him!?

You want to ask what the fuck he even means when he starts thrusting mean in your cunt, stretching it out as he moves, fucking into you harder, faster, pistoning his hips so that you feel him every fucking where. “S-Satoru!” 

“That’s it, look you’re taking me like you’re fucking made f’me.” He can’t help himself now, lost in you, bent over you and fucking you hard as one hand grips your thigh, lifting it even higher up on the table, hitting deeper, harder. “Feel me everywhere, don’t you?”

All you can do is weakly nod while the aftershocks pulse around the thick length piercing you so deep you can hardly breathe. He yanks out then, leaving you empty and whining out - Satoru flips you so fast you’re breathless, cupping your face and kissing your lips desperately. Your thighs press against either side of his narrow hips, those dark dress slacks slipping down his legs as his cock presses back against you.

“Wanna look at your pretty face,” his words are followed by his cock driving in your squelching cunt, cupping your face, his intense blue eyes devouring every inch of you he can see, yanking your dress down to reveal a breasts just a bit, brushing your nipple with his thumb while he shoves in again, stuffing you full. “Look at you, fuck you’re perfect.”

You want to say he is too, but you can’t form any words, not when he hits some angle that has you cumming again, white hot stars bursting behind your shut eyes when it hits. He watches you as you fall apart, words that shouldn’t be there yet at the tip of his tongue, he wants to explain them away while he watches you, while your hands grip his expensive jacket and your cunt grips his cock.

Your back arches, breasts spilling out of that top, mouth wide open in a slutty O as you scream out for him. “Fucking beautiful…” he murmurs, enamored by you, before shutting his own eyes, feeling how you’re so slick and hot for him, his balls smacking your ass while your panties still dangle off your heel, thrown over his hip.

“Satoru, mnh, s-so good, I… so much…” you’re nonsensical, slurring your words like you’re all fucked up from the finest liquor, and he can’t drag his eyes off you once they open again, the evening sky casting the prettiest glow on every perfect inch, gripping him so tight he can hardly hold out.

“One more time, hmm? Need one more from you, sweetheart, you can do it.” He encourages you, even though you’re already weak, dizzy, drooling from your mouth and your cunt. He slams into your cunt again, the wet messy sounds echoing even outside in the middle of the fucking sea, you’re so loud as you whine out, brows together, two little lines forming between them.

“T-too much,” he moans at your broken words, leaning lower, grabbing you by your hips and slamming his cock inside again, watching as you twitch under him, gasping for a breath. “Oh my g-god, fuck…”

“One more, just for me. M’close, she’s too fucking tight,” he presses a hot kiss to your nipple, sucking the peak into his mouth, feeling your body tense, one hand right on your tummy over your dress. “C’mon, one more for me.”

You nod weakly, overstimulated and falling off the edge, while Satoru groans and buries his face against your neck, inhaling your scent when he bottoms out, tip leaking so much pre it’s filling you with his warmth. His soft white hair right above his cock tickles your clit again when he rolls his hips, teeth sinking into the delicate skin on your neck and urging you on more.

You feel too much when he pulls back, lips glossed from his saliva, his blue eyes just looking at you that way, the way that makes you feel too beautiful, too special, too fucking much. So much your breath catches, you pause and falter, hands slipping up to cup his face, as words of deep feelings threaten to spill for a man you have only known for a short time.

But how can you not feel it?

“Cum inside me, please,” you whisper instead, and he pauses himself, snowy lashes blinking rapidly, exhaling against your kiss swollen lips now, his cock pulsing as he’s at the edge of spilling. “If you want, I’m on the pill s’okay, but if you-”

Satoru cuts you off with a brutal kiss, cumming inside you was something he could only fucking dream of, and you’re begging for it. Once again, who the fuck was he to deny anything you asked for?

“I’ll give you anything, baby,” he knows it’s vulnerable to say, but it falls from his lips. He brushes your hair back, watching two little tears slip as you cry out, while he lifts your hip up with his free hand, slamming into you again, seeing your eyes roll back into your skill. “Anything you ask for.”

His words barely register, when he’s pumping you full of white hot ropes of cum, groaning against your ear, and you’re filled with him then, so intimate in that moment, coating your walls and pooling down his cock with the pressure of your muscles gripping his cock again. He whines out softly, before kissing you again, hands shaking even as he tries to grip you, pumping his still hard cock in and out.

So much cum, it’s already swirling around his veiny cock with your shimmery arousal in strings and drips, messy and filthy, when he leans up and looks at you again, and you both just look, eyes locked, lips parted. He slides in slow, achingly slow, relishing in every bit of how your pretty body writhes on that table, as your hands grip and loosen the grip again, your whimpers filling his mind.

“Fuck,” he exhales, resting his head on yours now, feeling the sweat on your brow, as your aftershocks keep milking him more and more, and he’s fucking spent. He has never felt this, whatever the fuck this is, beyond a perfect, pretty cunt, beyond busting inside you that deep.

It was more, so much more, so much it takes his breath.

Resisting the urge to spill far, far too much too quickly, he kisses you instead, and you meet his lips, brush for brush, kiss for kiss, tongues dancing while he picks your head up gently off the table, resting his hand under it, gripping now messy locks of hair. He keeps littering your neck and collar bone with kisses, keeps gripping your body everywhere he can, keeps whispering your name.

God he can never get enough of you now.

He knew it would be phenomenal, but he didn’t expect to feel all of this, and the worry sets in - would you feel the same? - but your drunk, dilated eyes that fill with tears should be his answer. “Are you okay, was I too rough, sweetheart?”

“No, it was just so intense… I… fuck I’ve never felt anything like…” You’re trailing off too, and he exhales in relief, peppering little kisses as he helps you sit up, sliding his cock out of you with a wet squelch. You eye the aftermath, blushing furiously.

“You’re messy, y’know, so messy, tsk.” Satoru’s long fingers brush against your abused little hole, making you hiss at the contact, a sadistic smile dancing across otherwise sweet lips. “You’re a mess f’me, huh?”

“You’re insane, you know, look at all the mess you made!” You gesture around weakly, and he chuckles again, kissing you and slipping up his boxers and pants, belt unbuckled while he adjusts your dress, helping you down carefully.

“You wanted it right now. Needy little brat.”

“Excuse me, you’re needy!” He glares playfully, helping you onto wobbly legs, you have to wrap an arm around his waist, knowing how sore you’re going to be tomorrow already.

“Can’t even walk, poor baby.”

“You’re kind of an ass, huh?”

“Just figuring that out?” He brushes your hair back, sweet kisses defying his words, you sigh at how good it feels in his arms, as he holds you against him. “I bought some clothes for you, wanna get more comfy?”

“How do you know my size?” He leans back, eyeing your body with vivid blue eyes, like a caress as they move across your skin.

“I’ve observed your body very well,” you get flustered again, burying your face against his chest, and he laughs softly. “You ask me to cum inside and then get nervous I bought some clothes?”

“You’ve spent enough money, jesus, Satoru.” He shrugs, rubbing your back while you hold onto him tightly.

“I’m filthy fucking rich, sweetheart, why not spend some of it on you?”

“But who am I to you - all this is…. Too much and…”

“Shh.” He tilts your chin up with two fingers, your eyes meeting his once more, drowning in him. “I enjoy this, and I haven’t… enjoyed anything in a while.”

His soft words fill you with an ache inside so deep, knowing he too was in a dark place, you can feel it, and you hate it for him, lip trembling as you cup his face, and his eyelashes flutter shut. “I’m here for you too, no I have no boats or money. Not even any cocaine,” he snorts at that, and you smile softly. “But I have me, and I’m here, for however long you want to enjoy me.”

“Don’t promise all of that,” his husky whisper almost plunges you right over that deep end, when he presses you against the table he’d just had you bent over, cunt still throbbing and now it’s leaking his cum. “What if I never let you leave?”

“Then I’ll be your captive,” you tease softly. “You’d look hot in a pirate hat.”

“Oh yeah, would I now?” You nod and giggle again, but the words are out there in the universe - that you have no intentions of leaving his side. Fuck you’d promise forever if you didn’t know that’s batshit insane.

You’ve never felt more right than in Satoru’s arms.

“Maybe I’m like a little pest, you won’t be able to get rid of me.” He shakes his head, throat closing up a bit as he holds you back against him, feeling the rapid beats of your pulse on his thumb as it runs across your neck, hearing your little sigh of pleasure as he repeats the action.

“I think we both know that’s bullshit.” His voice is just a little hoarse, you snuggle closer, little buttons of his dress shirt brushing on your nose.

“Y-you said you had some comfy clothes?”

“Mmhmm,” he’s pulling back now, so much left unspoken as he takes your hand in his. “C’mon, we’ll both get something comfier on. I figured we could just crash here for the night, if you want.”

“Fuck yes I want, god getting out of that house for the night, and with you…” you trail off again, as he smiles just a bit, leading you down the steps again into the little room inside. The bed keeps calling to you as if saying you’re going to sleep in his arms tonight.

That’s something you’ve never done.

But it’s also something Satoru’s never done.

“There’s a bathroom right in there if you wanna freshen up.” You smile thankfully, slipping on the soft shirt and shorts he’d picked out, coming back out to see him dressed casually for the first time.

You’ve literally only seen him in three piece suits, cufflinks worth more than your car, and a watch probably worth your damn house, always sleek and perfect, there’s something sweet about him in a soft gray sweater hanging just a bit off a shoulder, showing a bit of his strong chest and sharp collarbones. Your breath catches a bit, taking him in slowly as he does the same to you.

“Those sweats, they’re slutty.” You tease, and he looks down at the soft white sweats in question, lips quirked up.

“You calling me slutty? Miss - cum in me please-” You smack a hand on his mouth, as if now you care if someone hears, and he just chuckles, grabbing your wrist, thumb rushing across the little veins there.

“You liked it, came so much.” He raises a thin brow then, leaning low, so low, his sweet breath dancing along your lips as you inhale and exhale slowly.

“You’re talking shit, huh? That’s cute.” He picks you up before you can blink, and you’re thrown right on that bed, his fingers slipping the shorts aside, finding you again, soaking already, curling his fingers wickedly. “Are you sore? Aw, poor sweet cunt, can she not take dick?”

“Are you an asshole or not!? Insane ass… mnh, Satoru!” He laughs a bit, easing his fingers out, coated in the remnants of his cum and your slick, sucking the two of you right off - cheeks hollowing while you watch with wide eyes, cunt reacting already, needing more, even though you’re so sore. “Satoru, you’re so freaky.”

“I’ve been very vanilla with you, actually.” His words make you blink in confusion, but before you can process what he means he has his face back down between your thighs, tongue lapping inside you so deep. Your hands tug at his silvery strands, screaming out, hips bucking up against his hot mouth.

“Satoru!” You’re yanking so hard it hurts, and his cock is already pressing against the firm mattress of the big captain’s bed, as he tastes just how perfect his cum is pouring out of your cunt.

“Mmm, fucking taste us, sweets,” he whispers, nipping at your clit with sharp teeth, two fingers opening your mouth for him to spit right inside it, you almost choke from your gasp, and he groans as you do, remembering how you felt choking right on his cock. “Swallow it, be good f’me.”

You do just that, swallowing his spit down, and he’s desperately kissing you again, messy and hungry, yanking your shorts aside as he slips his sweats down, that blushing pink tip already pouring white sticky cum from the slit, feeling your hips jerk as it bumps your engorged clit. You’re whining out hoarsely, body shifting underneath him, your cunt slicker and slicker with every press and tease.

“Hold these to the side.” His gruff order is quickly met, you tug your shorts over, and he’s pressing back in, you whine out at how sore it is, yet the pain just makes it even sweeter, while he sinks inside you. “Fuck, god look at you, you’re all beat up from my cock, aren’t you?”

You just swallow and nod nervously, still tasting him on your tongue, while his eyes darken, pupils blown the fuck out like he’s on the finest powder, he hovers over you, your hands slip under his sweater, feeling his body slowly. He pulls back again, as you’re slipping up his shirt, dying to see more of his body, revealing the lines and divots of his perfect abdomen as you look down at his body.

“Asked you a question, sweetheart.” His commanding tone shoots your eyes back up, his tip just pressing in your tight ring of muscles and staying there, when you’re begging for more, nails pressing against the hard muscles of his back.

“Yes, I am. Sore,” your sweet whisper has him moaning, he leans over you, cock pulling almost fully out once more. “You like me hurting from your cock? Do you want me to hurt?”

“Fucking…” He lets out a shaky breath and you see it, his fingers itching to squeeze your throat, you take his hand and put it right on your neck, gripping his wrist tightly. “Not to really hurt, I still want it to feel good, baby.”

“I do feel good, so good, and… I want to.” He kisses you firmly before he thrusts fully in one stroke, and you struggle to take him even after being stretched out, even being soaking wet, crying out weakly as his hand tightens slowly.

“Tap me if it’s too much, okay?” You nod and he squeezes harder, pulling back and slamming his cock inside you again, your cry blocked and melded into a weak gasp as your mind gets fuzzy. “Look at this pretty little neck, you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

He needs it, you feel it, how he moves, harder thrusts hitting and slapping so deep, all while he pins you down, one hand pressing on the tummy where his cock is bulging, the other on your throat, all that weight on you, making you feel enwrapped by him. Your ears start buzzing, so much better than the teasing in the car, as a drop of sweat falls down his brow onto your cheek.

He moans at the sight, lost in you, inside you, on you, all around you - it’s just Satoru Gojo, shoving in deep and bracing himself on one arm while you feel your orgasm building again. You’re gasping as he chokes harder, pressure increasing until you nearly black out while you cum for him, seeing double and feeling like you’re floating while it rocks through you.

Your hands grip his wrist, riding it out with a desperate squeak when he releases it, and you’re gasping for breaths, greedy for the air to fill your lungs, only for his kisses to sap the rest of the air in the room. “S-Satoru…” Your voice is hoarse, his handprint around his neck, making him harder, more desperate at the sight, losing the last shreds of control he has.

“You good baby?” His soft whisper hits your still ringing ears, and you nod, dragging him down by his loose sweater for another kiss, as he presses so deep, laying on top of you, cock rocking just right against your every spot. “Fuck, m’gonna fill you up so much, gonna have to take a break from work.”

“What? You’re so- ah!” He’s leaned up again, pressing your thighs so high then, kissing along your inner thighs and calves as he holds them up, tugging at your shorts to keep them aside.

“Want it all in you, don’t you? Slutty for me, just me?”

“Just y-you - ah!” Satoru pounds into your cunt, smacks echoing in the room as he does, fucking one load completely out just to pump another, you’re lost in it, consumed by him, cumming right with him until you’re weak, so weak you’re not making noise, just little mewls from your throat.

“Fuck, feel you, so full huh?” He presses your tummy again, wild thoughts rushing through his head - babies inside you - fuck his babies.

He shakes the thought off, he’s certainly a man who is into many kinks, but breed kink was never one - in fact he actively made sure he’d never have kids with any of the many women under him. But you? He can see it now, and it makes his cum spurt out even more, your mouth open wide as you’re clinging to him, cunt milking his cock like she just wants him to put babies in her.

So lost in insane thoughts - in wild love declarations he can’t say.

What if he was too much?

All while you’re so cock drunk you murmur - ‘think I’m in love, shit’

He pauses, blinking then, and you realize your folly, covering your mouth with wide eyes. “You said… what?”

“Nothing, fuck.” He sighs, sliding in with a still hard cock - how was this man just hard after cumming!?

“Nothing?” He teases, stroking again, watching your jaw tense and quiver as your eyes shut, and your head falls back.

“Ignore me please.”

“I’ll never ignore you.” Your eyes open and he’s far too close, blue eyes swirling like storms in the sky, while the cabin darkens completely, you register it must be nightfall now barely. “What’d you say?”

“Crazy shit.” You kiss him instead, and he lets you live your delusion for now, while your pulse flutters so quickly. “Mnh, okay I kinda hurt.”

“Shit,” he eases out and you wince, brows knitting together. “Too rough?”

“No, no I liked it. I’m just not used to… anything like that. At all.” He leans down and presses a kiss as a little apology, his breath alone making you twitch and whine out again.

“Sorry, pretty.” He’s whispering to your cunt, you giggle then, breathless as he eyes you, slipping your shorts back.

“You talking to my pussy?”

“Fuck yeah, she loves me.” You hear the taunt in his voice, feel your flustered self flush under his serious gaze.

Who was Satoru Gojo?

Sweet, silly, fun?

Freaky, filthy, rough?

Devious, teasing, brilliant?

You just know one thing, you’re falling off the deep end - feelings so intense it’s brutal not to spill, but you’re so terrified of letting go and trusting someone completely. But you do trust him, you feel safe, when he kisses across your brow now, murmuring your name so sweetly.

“C’mon, let’s have a drink and go look at the water.”

“I need help.” He chuckles, clearly self pleased, easing you up, he carefully cleans you up first, taking a pony tail and gathering your hair after trying to brush away the mess. “Well now you’ll have to do that all the time.”

“Brush your hair? Of course I will.” He’s so sweet then you melt, something so simple he doesn’t realize how much it means, pressing a little kiss on your head before grabbing one of the fleece blankets and heading up.

Soon the two of you are watching the pretty water, the moon reflecting on the ripples below, the boat is heading back to the dock for the night, you see the city lit up in the distance while he wraps a blanket around you, holding you over the soft fleece. You exhale at the peace, at how perfect it is, just waiting for everything to break or shatter, to wake up.

“You’re quiet,” he muses softly, both of you leaning against the railing now. You look back up at him, and he cups your face, as the cool night air brushes past, and the moonlight casts shadows on the planes of his handsome face. “Everything okay?”

“I’m waiting to wake up from this dream,” your words hurt him, the way your voice breaks, your lip quivering. “It’s too perfect.”

“It’s real, okay?” You nod, turning and letting him hold you, while he rests his chin on your head, staring out into the night, seeing in the distance arcs of dolphins slicing through the water. “Hey, look!”

“Hmm?” You turn and he points, and then you see them closer, their gray fins in the air, making you light up, bouncing up and down. “Oh my god!?”

“There’s a bunch of them too.” He leans forward, big arms wrapped back around you while the two of you study them, enamored.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Never?”

“No. Satoru… I can’t swim.”

“What!?” You just nod and he laughs softly. “You didn’t even tell me and we’re in the middle of the sea.”

“I figured you’ll save me.” He smiles softly, burying his face against your neck, inhaling you then. “You already have.”

“Give me too much credit. I still have work to do on that debt.” His heart hurts at your sigh, peeking back to see the dolphins going further in the distance of the pretty clear water.

“You’ve already done more for me than anyone ever has, and I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you enough.” You turn again, and he sees the streaks of tears on your cheeks glittering in the moonlight, he gently brushes them aside, swallowing down his own emotions at the sight. “But I’ll keep thanking you, in every way I can.”

“You never need to thank me. I just want you to get some fucking sleep and eat a good meal.” You giggle through your tears now.

“You clattered all our food to the floor.”

“Shit. I did.” You both laugh softly, and he kisses you right on the bow of the boat as it gently moves through the night.

You know tomorrow brings reality - the trouble you’re in is helped and halted but far from over, but for now you melt into his arms, losing yourself in him again, again, and again, until the two of you are spent, exhausted. Until you can’t even move, covered in slick sheens of sweat, falling out exhausted into an embrace that feels perfect, when you finally sleep, his last thoughts are prevalent -

How to keep you here, and keep you safe.

And he’ll do whatever he needs to do.

A/N- So sorry this took almost two months! As someone who ALWAYS tries to keep her fics 2-4 wks per, sometimes with a ton of wips one won't click for me for a bit. And this was that one. Thanks for those who waited patiently, the next few chaps should not be so long of a wait now that I have my direction! If you enjoyed I'd love to see your comments and thoughts on our sweet lil Mob Gojo <3

taglist 1 - @thejujvtsupost @moonchu @thikcems @yenayaps @luvmichu @antisocialinlw @sukunadckrider @gojoslefttoenail @genticcs @sukuxna0 @saitamaswifey @monster-effer @gradmacoco @bounie1 @bestelizabeth1 @alygator77 @arabellasolstice @naina326 @1satoruu @satorusaysiloveyou @feliaeae @jkslaugh97 @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @simp-plague @ladyneisa @distractionforyourthoughts @erintaro @ninikrumbs @yesdere @stargirl-mayaa @wstaley2 @just-lilita @lady-of-blossoms @genshingeeksworld @yaoishipper19 @angryflowerwitch @strawberrysluttt @emochosoluvr @bluebrry05 @trishiepo0 @gina239 @bunheadusa @hazelll-trisk @simperisksksk @jud3thedude @breadsbasket @shhhhhhxoxo125 @gojosoups @starpachinko

[sincerelyneo]

no control | l.jn

“i can't contain this anymore, i'm all yours i've got no control”

💿now playing: no control by one direction

❯ summary: The guy sitting at the bar next to you seems pretty smitten - and Jeno hates it. He wants to be the one making you blush…or more accurately, scream his name.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, friends with benefits

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), jealousy, arguing, wall sex, swearing, back scratching/marking?, possessiveness, public sex, reader uses she/her pronouns, pet names, slight begging, a bit angsty, porn with feelings, literally just jeno being petty and jealous.

Jeno hates to admit it, but Mark was right. Casual, no-strings-attached sex does in fact suck. And God does he know it. It’s hard to forget when his friends keep bringing you up.

“Who’s she talking to?” Renjun asks.

Jisung replies with a simple shrug before Chenle chimes in with a quick, “I don’t know, haven’t seen him before.”

Him. Jeno feels that pronoun hit harder than expected, but he forces himself to keep cool. He doesn’t turn around to see who’s got your attention, even though every fiber of his being screams and begs for him to look.

His spying friends keep giggling amongst themselves as they sit on the stools at the bar. But it wasn’t until Renjun throws back the last of his whiskey and says: “He looks pretty into her.” That Jeno’s gaze is forced to find you.

Jeno’s too proud to admit it but he finds you instantly, you’re like a magnet, a force that he’s drawn to. And truthfully, he considers it a talent that he can seek you out of a crowd in seconds.

There you are, with some guy. Some guy he didn’t know. Some guy that, from what he could see from the side of his head, was probably good-looking. The good-looking ones always liked to try and talk to you.

Not that it matters, Jeno reminds himself, dragging his eyes away from you for his own sake. You hadn’t come to this party with him; he never even asked you. He agreed to keep this casual. You could spend your time with whoever you damn well pleased.

Even if that wasn’t him. And even if that’s a bitter pill for him to swallow. 

“Leave him alone guys,” Jisung finally speaks up. “They’re probably just talking. Besides aren’t you staying over at Y/N’s tonight anyway Jen?” He asked. 

Jeno takes his eyes off you for a second to look at his friends, he’s thankful for the reminder that he was supposed to be coming over to your place tonight. But now his mind is racing. Maybe you would change your mind, ditching him to hang out with that good-looking man instead.

You’re not like that, he tells himself. While you hadn’t attended the party with him, you had promised to spend the night with him, and you weren’t one to break promises. Besides, you didn’t bring strangers you just met home, either. He had nothing to worry about.

Except…what if he did?

When he dared to glance over to the last spot he had seen you across the lavish bar, he wasn’t expecting to still find you there. Surely, you would’ve found an opening to excuse yourself and re-join the friends you’d arrived with, but there you were. Still talking to that asshole. Smiling at him. Enjoying yourself.

Maybe it was just the whiskey talking, but Jeno felt like he was being replaced as if he was across the world and not merely across the room. Because it had been well over half an hour since he had first seen them together. And who knew how long you two had been talking before he or his friends even noticed?

Jeno doesn’t like this feeling. So he orders another drink.

He tries to ignore you – tries to focus on his friends but they keep mentioning it. Mentioning you. Which makes it so damn difficult to stop his eyes from sliding over, and noticing every little detail about you. 

The short dress that had ridden up from where you’d sat down and crossed your legs, showing off more than enough of your toned thighs. The deep black of it suited you, and not just because it was Jeno’s favourite colour, but because it complemented the tumble of hair falling over your shoulder. You looked like a goddess, untouchable. Especially when you smile. God, he loves when you smile. 

Just not when he’s not the one doing it. He should be the only one to make you laugh, to make you feel more relaxed at a party. Because he knows you, all the little things and your quirks.

But not once did you glance his way; and he’s fully aware of that because Jeno has definitely been staring. You’re ignoring him, and he hates it. So fucking much.

Maybe the alchohol was catching up to him, finally settling into his bloodstream and mixing dangerously with his jealous streak because he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that he has to do something. 

Impulsively, Jeno abandons the conversation he had already half checked out of with his friends, and doesn’t waste a second marching over to you and the man. Ideally, Jeno wanted you to be thrilled to have him sweep you away, but when he arrived at the booth you and him had been sitting at, Jeno sees your eyes flash with an undeniable ‘what the fuck are you doing over here?’

“Nice to see you, Y/N,” Jeno greets you charmingly, sliding right into the booth on your side without an invitation, blatantly interrupting.

“Hi, Jeno,” you reply, keeping your tone polite despite not moving to give him more room.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” It hasn’t. “I thought I’d get you a drink and we could catch up?”

Jeno’s attempt to get you away is feeble, but it’s not exactly like he had enough time to devise a good plan. He was being impulsive, jealous, reckless – acting on instinct and he instinct was telling him that he need you, by his side. 

“Maybe later, yeah Jen?”.

“Why? You having too much fun already?” he asks, which was rather a loaded question, considering you had company sitting right across from you. 

“I’m having a lot of fun,” you emphasise a little more than necessary, glancing at the brunette across the table and playfully rolling your eyes. It had the man smiling in understanding, which was quick to piss Jeno off. 

“Really?” he said flatly. “You don’t look it.”

“Maybe you don’t know what I look like when I’m having fun.”

“I think I know better than most.”

That’s when Jeno squeezes your knee, and you want to disagree, but you couldn’t. Because Jeno knew, alright. He knew pretty damn well.

The guy opposite you shifts in his seat, probably aware that he had suddenly become a third wheel, thanks to the flirty tone in Jeno’s voice. Jeno gets a sick sense of enjoyment watching the man get uncomfortable – all the confirmation that whatever little plan he had going on was working. It made him only want to do it more.

So Jeno oh so casually reaches to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear. You try not to react, but your head tilts slightly towards him, and your features soften. 

“You look beautiful,” Jeno compliments, fingers trailing down your hair, brushing over your shoulder before they settled back on your knee. “Black suits you.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. 

“Are you two friends?” The man asks, reminding you both of his presence.

“Sort of,” you began to say, just as Jeno declares, “Very close friends.”

With your cheeks now flushing, you cut him a look that he largely ignores, before feeling the need to explain yourself to the friendly guy you had just met. “We catch up sometimes. Occasionally.”

“We’ve known each other for ages.” Jeno emphasises because he liked that fact. Liked knowing he was here first, having that leverage and advantage over any guy you’d ever meet.   

“I should leave you to it then, let you two catch up,” the man says through a tight lipped smile as he began to slide out of the booth. He knew exactly what Jeno was trying to do. “Nice meeting you, Y/N. See you around sometime.”

“I hope so!” You reply trying to sound enthusiastic. You didn’t want to give Jeno the satisfaction he was clearly hoping for. 

Once the man turned his back on you, you grab your glass and take an extra generous gulp of your drink. 

Before Jeno had the chance to open his mouth and say something else that was only going to irritate you, you lean into him. 

“What the fuck was that?” you hiss. “Out. Get out. Let me out.”

Shuffling along as he was told, Jeno watches dumbly as you hastily slip out of the booth after the stranger, tugging the hem of your dress down with one hand and clutching your nearly empty glass in the other.

Jeno blinks for a second as you try to parade away from him. Then it registers in his mind and he’s chasing behind you and out of the bar. That’s when he tugs on your arm to stop you in your tracks. 

“Y/N. Stop, please.”

Much to Jeno’s surprise, you do as he says, turning around and holding up a commanding finger.  It almost seemed like a joke, but there was no humour in your tone when you asked, “What were you thinking?”

Jeno tilted his head to the side, tonguing the side of his cheek. 

“We weren’t at that party together! You knew that,” you continue your rant.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to speak to you in public,” Jeno replies naïvely with an innocent shrug of his shoulders.

“You know that’s not what we do. We don’t hang out at social events, Jeno. We agreed on casual. I don’t want a relationship.”

Casual. Yeah, you seemed to really not want a relationship when you were chatting up that guy for ages. The thought makes Jeno scoff, his gaze dropping to his feet. 

 You cross your arms over your chest, exhaling, “What?”

“That guy,” he simply says, his eyes flashing with a slight fury when he looks back up at you. “You were with that guy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh my god, you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Who was he?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“It does matter when you refuse to even speak to me in public, but spend your whole night with him.”

Jeno’s smile is long gone, and almost, almost, you wanted to forget this whole thing and bring it back. You hated when Jeno was mad at you, not that he was very often, but he was being irrational right now. 

“I just met him, it was all friendly” you explain. “I can’t believe you’re jealous!”

“I’m not jealous!”

Jeno knew he was, but there was not a chance of him admitting that seeing you with any other man drove him absolutely insane. Every single damn time. Still, you know better.

“You obviously are! Jeno, you know how I feel about you–”

“Do I? You didn’t seem to be into me tonight.”

“Because you came out of nowhere and acted like I was all yours!”

“You are mine!”

That was the wrong thing to say. Jeno knew it as soon as it came out his mouth, saw it in the way your expression tightened slightly. Even so, he wouldn’t take back what he thought was true.

“We haven’t defined anything–” you fumble, “Infact, I think we did the opposite—” 

“How would you like it if I’d been flirting with another girl all night?” He cuts in.

“It wouldn’t matter,” you lie. “You can do what you want.

Jeno takes a few steps towards you, and it makes you unconsciously hold your breath. He’s so tall and intimidating and goddam sexy—wait you’re mad at him right now! 

“What I really want, Y/N, is to be with you,” he spells it out frustratingly slowly. “Seeing you all night long in that short dress that barely covers your ass and knowing I can’t touch you, claim you, fucking kills me.” 

Your eyes betray you, because despite every brain wave in your mind telling you to yell at him for that slightly misogynistic statement—your eyes still soften. 

“Well, you should’ve just said that,” you try to explain instead of lecturing him. “If you’ve been feeling like that you should’ve talked to me instead of acting like a caveman.” 

“You don’t listen.”

“I’m listening now.”

Jeno blinks at you, his jaw loosening as his eyes watch your gaze drift down to his lips. The action is loud enough for him to not waste another second before his hands move to your waist, pulling you in to the kiss he had been dying to give you all night. 

It’s harder than he would’ve given you earlier, more possessive – oh, definitely possessive when he forces your back against the brick wall at the side of the bar and your arms have no choice but to hastily wrap around his neck. You stumble a little, but he keeps a firm grip on you.

If you wanted him to tell you how he felt, well, that’s exactly what you’re going to get.

He tells you in the desperate way that he kisses you, lips parting and unwilling to leave yours. He tells you by the way he presses his body flush against yours, pinning you to the brick so you can’t slip away from him, not again. He tells you in the low moan that escapes him when your hand tangles up in his hair and your own lips work just as eager.

When he breaks away for a moment, he takes his time to just look at you. So pretty, so desperate, and so undoubtedly all his. 

And when you gaze back at him through long lashes and eyes radiating with lust, he has to groan because he’s the one making you like that. He’s the one getting you to bite down on those pretty lips, lips that were made for him, belong to him. 

But you’re feeling too desperate and he’s taking too long. So within a mere few seconds, you’re reaching for him again. It has him thinking maybe you’re trying to tell him the same thing. But there was no need to do that. Jeno had made it abundantly clear that he was yours. 

There was still a lingering frustration fuelling the two of you – mostly from you; it was jealousy for Jeno. He is jealous that someone else – another man – had gotten to spend the night at the party with you. He needed you to know that he hated to see you with him, and that this – this was never going to be better with anyone else. 

No matter how hard a man would try, they could never know you the way that he did. They could never make you feel the way he did. 

Ridiculously, you want to apologise despite him reading the situation all wrong. You hadn’t been flirting with anyone else, and you thought it didn’t matter who you chose to simply talk to. You never knew he’d feel this threatened. Never suspected it would upset him this much. 

You proposed the idea of keeping things casual to not get hurt. Jeno was unbelievably attractive and could have his pick of any woman. You thought keeping him at arm's length would protect you—figures it’s only hurting him. 

Regardless, no matter the context there was no denying that he was being a jealous ass tonight and the two of you had argued. An argument that you were both getting very turned on by and had you conflicted between getting down on your knees for him or letting him fuck you against the wall, outside and all. 

You always found great thrill in surprising him: breaking from the feverish kisses, you reach up under your dress and yank down your underwear. The delicate fabric falls around your ankles, and you kick them off to the side, inviting him to what he so clearly wanted.

I’m yours right here, right now, your eyes tell him.

And you really thought you had won at the whole surprising thing, until he hooks your legs around his waist and presses his hips harder against you. You never pegged yourself or Jeno for being an exhibitionist but something about him taking you against the wall of the very same bar he thought a man was flirting with you at, awakens something feral inside him. 

All of a sudden the wall seemed like the perfect spot for make up sex. Honestly, Jeno just wanted any sex. As long as it was with you. 

He exhales heavily when he starts to ease his pants down and you fumble to undo his shirt buttons. But you get far too distracted by his lips beginning to trail down your throat. He reaches for your thigh, smoothing up your soft skin, as he hitches up your dress around your hips. 

You’re so desperate for him you can’t help but whimper. And just when you think ‘Yes, finally,’ a cocky grin spreads across his face as his finger slips effortlessly (and too goddamn slowly) over your centre. His teasing is somewhat annoying, but it’s so hard to be pissed at him when he’s touching you like that. Hell, it’s hard to be mad at him in general—you’re weak to him and that’s exactly why you’re pushed up against a wall. 

Jeno picks up his pace as soon as he begins stroking you with another finger. You squirm against the wall and he watches that hungry expression grow as he rubs you rhythmically, fingers sliding up and down, up and down, so easily from how wet you are. Pride swells in his chest because he did that. 

Every moan that leaves your lips is his own little reward, one that he is dying to receive more, and more, and more of. Forever. 

Jeno knows you’re close. It would’ve been easy to get you off right there, and he would’ve, had he not abruptly pulled away from you. You curse under your breath at the loss of contact. 

“Jeno!” 

He smirks, loving the way you squirm as he nudges your legs further apart. His breath is hot against your skin as he murmurs, “Got to tell me what you want, baby.” 

You groan frustratingly, since apparently he wasn’t going to give it to you unless you said something. “I want you, now. Just need you inside me.”  

He smirks, the grip he had on your thighs tightening and the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his shirt. He shifts his hips, pushing the crown of his cock against your entrance — slowly, sensually, tormentingly. 

You lean into him, nails digging into the fabric on his back as he presses his forehead against your neck, soft hisses escaping him as he feels you — wet and tight. 

“This pussy was fucking made for me,” he growls, cock buried to the hilt. He could stay there forever, selfishly he wants to, but he can hear your whimpers and the need to please you becomes priority. 

He bottoms out and then his hips are snapping forward hard, fast, possessive. Whatever words you wanted to say dissolves into a senseless moan. His thrusts become more erratic and needy and the pace has you clenching down around him. Fuck. 

Jeno stills. His breath ghosts over your collarbones and his fingers dig even further into your hips. You know that look, he’s struggling to keep himself under control, which, given the circumstances is the last fucking thing you want. 

“Not gonna last long if you keep doing that baby.” 

He’s trying to reason with you, but before you really have time to think about what you’re doing you’re clawing at his back, tightening your legs around and digging the heels of your shoes into his back hard enough that he growls, low and frightening in a way that makes your spine tingle. 

“Fuck,” he grits out thrusting into you hard. The sound of skin hitting skin is loud and vulgar in the middle of the street, but you don’t care and can’t care because fuck, all you can think about is how it feels as he rocks into you, again and again and again. 

“Jeno,” you gasp out, grip digging into his shoulders as he fucks you, ruthless and unforgiving. 

He’s relishing in it, you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he’s trying to fucking burn the sight into his brain forever, the sounds you’re making and the way you shiver in his arms and the sheer force of it all. He groans and when he kisses you again it’s nearly violent, a clash of lips and tongues and teeth. 

“All mine,” he groans against your mouth. He hisses as you bite at his bottom lip, retaliating with a growl and driving his hips into yours with a newfound ruthlessness. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Oh—fuck please,” you gasp out, breaths coming out in little huffs in time with the movement of his body. 

“Not what I asked,” he lowers his voice, serious. His pace slows down and it has you squirming and crying out.

“Fuck yes—yours Jeno. Always been yours. Just please don’t stop—” 

Jeno groans and kisses your neck. He picks up his pace again. The same low tone in his voice as he promises, “I’m all yours too.” 

You swear those three simple words were the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Your walls flutter around him and you don’t miss the prideful grin on his face as his hand moves down from your hip and his thumb presses against your clit.

His fingers move hurriedly and the pleasure is suddenly blinding and white and fuck fuck—

“Jeno yes just like that I’m gonna—”

“Good fucking girl,” he chokes out, your orgasm shaking him to his core, making his thrusts half-desperate. 

His rhythm falters and his own breath catches. He digs his fingers into your hip hard enough that it makes you hiss and then he falters and slows and gives one, two, three more thrusts before pinning you harder with a shaky, breathless sigh.

The two of you stay like that for a beat before he lowers you back to the ground, pulling down your dress. Then slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips and licks, tasting you with a roll of his eyes. 

“I mean it, you know,” He quietly says. “I’m all yours.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into a revering kiss, and you tell him the exact same thing back. 

[writingunderneathawillow]

everything works out in the end (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: yours and bucky’s relationship is one fight away from being over. at least that’s what it feels like. when he is offered a glimpse of the future, he gets to see you and discovers that not all hope is lost. mcu timeline placement: post thunderbolts* content warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, relationship troubles/anxiety, reckless driving (don’t do it), grumpy!bucky, yearning, fluff, no use of y/n, bucky’s pov, brief thunderbolts and bob appearance, will be edited later, so just ignore any mistakes word count: 2.4k a/n: haven’t written anything good in a month but i guess i’m back :) also the angstier version is coming soon (i hope! I’m feeling a little blue so i choose to cope by making y/n’s life hard)

Bucky’s chest heaved as he slammed the door behind him. Regret filled him immediately, but he kept walking. Down the corridor, out of your apartment building and onto the street. He stopped for a few seconds to peer up at your window and a cold iron ring settled around his chest. The curtains were drawn but he could have sworn he saw the fabric move. He guessed that you were watching, waiting to see if he would come back. The two of you had been fighting for weeks now. About everything, anything. His work, the risks he was taking, his disagreement with Sam. You weren’t necessarily not on his side, but you kept urging the two of them to talk, to find a way to get along and it was driving him insane. So, you argued. And he yelled back. And you called him an idiot. And he slammed the door. He didn’t feel ready to go back and talk it out with you, so instead he brought his bike to life and drove off, ignoring the speed limit and street signs. The howl of the motor wasn’t loud enough to drown out his thoughts, replaying the argument over and over again, and neither was the grinding of his teeth.  When he arrived at the Watchtower, his jaw hurt from the strain.  He parked the bike and had to physically stop himself from kicking it in frustration. He didn’t want to fight with you; he didn’t want to be angry with you. It was killing him to see the two of you on different standpoints.  The constant arguing was getting to him, settling deep in his stomach and not quite letting go, even after reconciling with you. It was as if you two were stuck in an endless circle of disagreements and then making it up to each other. It ate away at you, too. He saw it. In the way you sighed when he came back after a fight, or in the bags under your eyes after either one of you sleeping on the couch.  A few more hairs in his beard had lost their colour, and when he looked in the mirror, he saw a few more pronounced lines between his eyebrows. Disagreeing with you was threatening to make him look closer to his actual age.  The idea that one day you wouldn’t hear him out anymore, wouldn’t let him apologise or would refuse to say sorry for your own harsh words, haunted the back of his mind. That one day, you might decide to break his heart into a million pieces, for the better of both of you; it lingered. It ate him alive. 

The elevator dinged chirpily as the doors slid open to reveal Walker, Yelena and Ava sitting together in the common area, sharing a bowl of snacks while watching the news. Well, only really John was watching – Yelena and Ava were stacking chips on his head while he was absolutely absorbed in the military documentary playing on screen. “You’re back!” Alexei’s voice boomed through the room, and despite Bucky’s more than solid form, the Soviet’s Supersoldier clap on his shoulder sent him staggering a few feet forward. Yelena’s head whipped to them and even from the distance, Bucky saw the knowing look on her face.  He hated that he had a tell – and even more so that she knew it – for when he fought with you. John’s attention was momentarily captivated by Bucky’s return and the chips tumbled down onto the couch which elicited a sign from Ava.

“Oh, oh, why the long face?” Alexei asked, as he took in Bucky’s appearance and Yelena chortled.  “Trouble in paradise, again?” She teased while grabbing a chip from Walker’s collar, throwing it in the air and then catching it with her mouth. Bucky grunted some non-committal sound and strode past them, heading for his room. “Come on, you have to tell us all about your troubles. I know much about relationships,” Alexei called after him and Bucky wished he didn’t have supersoldier hearing when he picked up Yelena’s response.

“Which relationship is it that’s troubling you? You and the missus or you and Sam?” “We’re all fine,” he grunted and then disappeared into his room, planning on hiding there until his statement came true.  Not five minutes later, a knock sounded at his door.  “Jesus wept,” Bucky whispered to himself and got up, opening the door with more vigour than necessary.  Bob stood there, an anxious smile on his lips as if he wasn’t sure if his presence was appreciated or not (- it wasn’t). “I know I’m probably the last person you wanna ask about relationship advice-,” he began, and Bucky cut him off. “Yeah, you got that right.” Bob gave him a short apologetic glance but then continued. “All I wanna say is that maybe not all hope is lost,” he insisted but Bucky interrupted him again. “’Cause it isn’t. Never said it was.” “Right, but you look like she ran over your grandma and then danced on her grave, man. Listen, maybe I’m not the best person to go to with problems like this but the last time someone almost broke up with me, I took a nap and then talked it out with hi- them, uh, once I felt calmer.” “We’re not gonna break up,” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  Bob nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just saying, give it time. Get some sleep. Not that you need it or have to listen to me or whatever. Just… things usually get better when you take a nap.” Bucky stared at him disbelievingly, then sighed.

“Fine, I’ll take a nap,” he mumbled. He probably would have agreed to whatever Bob said in order to make him go away so that he could lick his wounds in peace. Bob’s face lit up slightly and he gave him a quick smile before retreating. Bucky let the door fall shut with a little more force than needed. Still, he found himself wanting to follow the other man’s advice and settled down on his bed reluctantly. He was exhausted, mentally and physically but still he didn’t find peace immediately. Instead, he grabbed his phone, opened the messages app and clicked on your contact info. For a few seconds his finger hovered over the call button. Your contact picture – one that he had taken not too long ago – smiled up at him, tearing at his heartstrings in both longing and wounded pride.  “Goddammit,” he whispered and locked his phone again, discarding of it on his nightstand where one of your necklaces lay as well. Dread washed through him at the sight of it. Bucky still felt too angry to reach out, not wanting to make things worse than they already were with comments thrown out in an emotion induced state.  “Can’t believe Bob’s fucking right,” he murmured and closed his eyes, praying that sleep would come to claim him quickly.

He woke with his senses on high alert. Something was off and it raised the hair in the back of his neck.  Within milliseconds, he sat up straight in bed, scanning the room. The air was lighter, and sunbeams filtered through the curtains, giving everything a golden glow. Had he slept through the entire night? How the hell did he- wait. Curtains? Bucky practically jumped out of bed, running over to his window.  Now, he was a man with priorities. Functionality, cleanliness and stability. He had a solid bedframe, a tall wardrobe and an organised desk, the only clutter in his room a few books and worn picture frames. Never in his life had he bought curtains. Or a vanity table. That specific piece of furniture adorned the wall opposite of the door, standing there as if it belonged. Two small scratches were carved into the wooden flooring next to it, seemingly proving that someone had tried to rearrange the layout of it without the needed strength. “What the hell?” Bucky murmured to himself as he took in the rest of his room. Pieces of clothing were splayed across a fuzzy chair that he had never seen before in his life. As he picked up one of the shirts, dizziness hit him. It smelled like you.  He swayed on his feet, threatening to stumble back against the wall as panic gripped his chest.  What is going on? He lunged towards the door and would have ripped it open, if the pictures on the wall hadn’t caught his attention. It was a collection of polaroids, hung up in a specific order. Two of them he recognised, even though to his knowledge, they were supposed to be in his wallet.  The furthest one left was the first picture of you two ever taken. Outside the tower, you curled up into his side, shielding your eyes against the sun while holding onto him. His arm wrapped around you and a not quite serious, not quite happy expression plastered across his face. That had been eight months ago, when you had met the team for the first time. Afterwards, Alexei had insisted on taking a polaroid of the two of you (“To make you never forget this great day!”). The other one with which he was familiar, was one he had stood behind the camera for, himself.  It showed you wearing Bucky’s leather jacket, and half of his metal arm was in the frame as well. You had reached out for it, trying to get him into the picture, too, but he had been quicker, snapping the polaroid to only display you, a bright smile and eyes full of love as you had called out to him to join you.  A shiver ran through Bucky as he stared at the other pictures. There were more than twenty, hung up in four neat lines. It was clearly a timeline of your relationship, some posed, others clearly taken in the moment, and his heart dropped as his eyes arrived at the last picture.

His photograph-self was on one knee, holding a velvet box, while you had your hands flung across your mouth, the shock and joy on your face obvious even despite the image’s terrible resolution. Sam stood in the back corner, a proud smile on his face as he looked at whoever had taken the picture.  Bucky’s head was spinning. He must be dreaming. The fight with you had taken over his subconscious and now he was dreaming of a future of you because he didn’t want to lose you.  Like a cartoon character, he pinched his arm. And felt the pain. You can’t feel any pain in your dreams. He knew that. So, he pinched harder. And it hurt.  “What the fuck?” He mumbled, slapping himself once. His cheek stung. He held his breath until he almost passed out. Ok, so not dreaming. Maybe he had rolled out of bed and hit his head real hard, causing him to hallucinate. Or maybe he was dead and this was heaven.  Yeah, that didn’t make sense; he had survived falling hundreds of feet off a train so dropping onto his hardwood floor in his sleep would surely not send him beyond the pearly gates. And then he heard it. Your voice. He would know it anywhere, in life, in death and in whatever messed up situation he found himself in now. The sound ghosted through the closed door like it was beckoning to him, asking him to find his way to you.  His fist closed around the doorknob, pulling it open in a slow trance. The sound of your voice grew louder, and he recognised the song you were singing along to.  Desperation grabbed him. He had to see you. So, he stepped forward, following your voice and it led him to the kitchen of the tower.  Before walking around the corner, Bucky paused. He still didn’t know what was going on. If this was real or if it was some kind of co-dependency induced vision; his mind was theoretically cleared by Shuri but who knew? Maybe he was truly starting to lose it.  As his thoughts spiralled, he didn’t hear the footsteps closing in on him.  You almost bumped into him, eyes wide with shock and then the skin next to them crinkled softly as you smiled at him. “Hi, baby,” you greeted him, “I was just coming to wake you.” You reached out for him, your right hand coming up to his face to brush your knuckles across his cheek. It was such a familiar gesture, one that you had gifted him a million times before. Still, he could have dropped to his knees as you reached out for him. And that’s when he saw it, the ring sparkling on your ring finger. The one, that he had put there – apparently. Or was going to.  He didn’t know how he knew but he did. This was not a dream, not a vision born from injury, insanity or mind control.  This was his future. This was a promise. For once the universe seemed to be on his side, allowing him this brief glimpse, telling him it was going to be alright. Everything would work out. “Hi,” he rasped and leaned into your touch. The second his skin connected with yours, a smile spread across his face. You looked at him with a mix of adoration and concern.  “You feeling okay, baby?” You asked, resting your hand on his forehead. He nodded immediately and like the love drunk fool he was, he would have done anything to prevent you from worrying about him – or anything at all ever again. “Yeah, I just missed you,” he whispered. 

He woke with a jolt, sitting up as straight as a candle in bed. It was dark in his room. There were no sunlit curtains, no vanity desk and no polaroids on the wall.  He reached for his phone and looked at the time. Barely an hour had passed since he had fallen asleep.  Set on a mission to not spend a second more than necessary without going to you and pleading for your forgiveness, he got to his feet and pocketed his phone.  He was already halfway out the building when he almost sent Bob to the floor with the force of his walk.  “Sorry,” he called out but then stopped himself from stepping into the elevator. He turned to face Bob and pulled him into a hug. “I fucking love you, Bob. You were right. A nap was all it took.”

He left the other man standing there, looking absolutely flabbergasted and slightly flushed.  Bucky pressed the elevator’s button and wondered how many traffic laws he could break on his way to you in order to shorten the amount of time spent apart from you.

thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work

[astral-lucy]

your next partner (PAC)

hello beautiful creatures! i'm excited to be back with another pick-a-card reading. i've been feeling romantic lately, so here goes a reading regarding your next partner. hope you enjoy it!

as usual, pick the picture that you feel most connected or drawn towards (pile 1 - up and left / pile 2 - up and right / pile 3 - down and left / pile 4 - down and right)

happy reading!

#pile 1

wheel of fortune - eight of wands - knight of cups - six of swords - seven of coins

when i started to shuffle for this pile’s reading, “so high school” by taylor swift started playing, so maybe that means something to you. although this is a person i think you’ve known for a while, the wheel of fortune here shows a new stage of this relationship, and paired with the eight of wands this shows a period of excitement, passion - the typical honeymoon phase we all go through once we start a relationship. maybe you have been through a rough period emotionally, things haven’t been great for either one of you, and here comes a calmer time, you’ll have someone to rely on that’ll help you with all the love in the world. this relationship seems ideal, but there are a few cards here that advice making an effort to communicate correctly with each other. 

when i asked about the appearance of this person i got freckles! i also see that this person has a baby face or is a pretty childish person, someone with a lot of energy. i feel like they have lighter hair as well.  you can also expect this to happen literally at any moment now! this is something that is already happening and in the works. 

#pile 2

the hanged man - queen of cups - knight of cups - six of coins - nine of cups

“only love” by ben howard started playing when i started writing, and i feel like that’s how this connection feels like! this is someone new in your life, and your day to day will start to feel like this song. with the hanged man opening this reading i feel like this is someone who came in to change your perspective and opinions about love, and even about self love - but this card also tells you to be patient and advises not to rush into new relationships without being sure first, as not everyone will fit you. love is definitely on the horizon, just wait for it to come to you, as someone who is willing to listen to you and that will offer you all the attention you need is on the way. the six of pentacles here is asking you to give without expecting anything back, it advises you to be generous with yourself and the universe will be generous to you as well! a strong connection is coming 

when i asked about this person i got the five of coins, so this is probably someone who has gone through hard times and knows that feeling cared for is important. this is someone who has dark eyes, probably darker skinned as well. 

when i asked for timing, i saw that the winter time may be of significance, but this still may take a while to come to you. 

#pile 3

two of swords - ace of cups - six of coins - queen of swords - five of swords

wow, you may be indecisive regarding a relationship or taking a new step into a relationship, and you may be looking for advice. i think that this relationship has a great potential of being a safe space, somewhere you’ll feel loved and supported. you may be indecisive because you don’t want to lose your independence - but your partner understands how that is important to you and will respect it. there’s an emphasis on the important of communication, as you may have problems due to a lack of it, and what i see here is that you’re struggling to make things official because you’re afraid - talk to them! have the scary conversation. they understand. 

when i asked about appearance i got the emperor, which makes me think this is a person who has a lot of authority. i also think they’re someone with dark eyes but lighter hair. 

timing wise, regarding having a conversation or taking a new step, i’d say something will shift within the next ten days or the next two weeks. 

#pile 4

three of coins - three of wands - six of cups - king of coins - page of wands

i think someone you’ve had a crush on has looked your way! someone you’ve liked for a while is now noticing you in a romantic light, or maybe someone you tried to have a relationship with in the past is back. whoever this person is, they’re not 100% committed to you, they want to be your one and only. you may feel sparks, have a lot of passion and fun with this person, but you need to avoid being clingy or too jealous of this person, reminding you both how everyone needs space. the three of wands is an amazing card here, as it shows you good luck on your romantic choices. 

i think this person takes a great care of their appearance, especially their hair. 

i think this is going to become official in a few month, maybe around pisces season.

hope you enjoyed reading!

[omega-e123]

!! NSFW !!

Suggestive. Blood mention.

AKA: Intro to very self indulgent rut fic. You have been warned

In A Rut..

Prologue (HERE!) || Restraint || Indulgence || Adoration

Odd behavior.

There Shadow goes again, walking off. He’s been acting strange lately. At first Shadow was practically clinging on to you.

Normally he doesn’t initiate physical contact, but at home he’s been snuggling into you, holding your body down so you can’t leave him. Attempting to part ways results a grumbly hedgehog.

The kisses don’t stop coming either. Knuckles every time you hold hands. Cheeks and forehead whenever he has to leave, no matter how short of an absence. Even if he’s going to be right back.

Jealousy has also become a big thing. Talking to anyone Shadow deems as a “threat”, he’s looming behind you, head on your shoulder and hands on your hips.

The worst it got was on a date at a bar. Shadow left momentarily to get you a drink. When he returned, someone was flirting you up. Enraged, the glass completely shattered in his hand. It sure scared off that guy. You had to bring attention to the shards in his hand, because he wasn’t concerned at all about it. Instead, Shadow slammed some money on the table and took your hand with the non injured one and left.

Next thing you knew, he’s been keeping distance from you. Both physically and shortening the time you two hung out.

He’s stopped initiating all together. Any advances you made Shadow wouldn’t turn down, but he would abruptly stop or attempt to keep it short. Started wearing a mask around you too.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Something is wrong with him. Your smell alone has started making his head spin. Every fiber of his being is drawn to you. Seeing you forces his quills to stand up on end.

Is this what a heart attack feels like? The pounding drum that is his heart is deafening. There’s no room to think. The only thing on his mind was you.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about you that way. Hell, it’s not like you two haven’t done the deed either; however, the intensity and frequency of these feelings have been cranked up to 100. It felt more primal.

The complete self restraint Shadow has to not pin you against the nearest wall, public or not, and shove his tongue down your throat is tearing him apart.

Such odd behavior was concerning. Swallowing every bit of ego and embarrassment, he turns to Rouge for answers.

Some help she was. That damn bat.

“Sorry, no can do. Sounds like a biological thing and not in the alien sense. I know you’ll hate to hear this but, try asking Sonic about it. You both are hedgehogs after all.”

“I think I would prefer skinning myself and be turned into a rug—“

She gives him a hard pat on the back, “Don’t say that. It wouldn’t be so bad~ I suppose you could ask Amy about it too… Or suffer! Your choice.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

What’s worse? Confronting Amy or Sonic?

That blue little shit would never let him live it down. Sonic could implode from hysterical laughter if Shadow told him about these thoughts.

Amy… It’s simply too TMI. While she is understanding and more open, what if she didn’t know anything.

Shadow’s instincts pull him towards the former option. Unfortunately for the hedgehog, he was semi right.

Sonic took a good minute turned away from Shadow. His hand clasped over his mouth and the other holding his stomach. Sonic reeling in his laughter and forcing not a sound to come out.

“Nono! Sorry! It’s cute!”

“Cute?” Shadow’s eyes narrow.

Sonic waves his hand, as if he’s fanning the comment away. “Never mind. Sometimes I forget you’re bioengineered. What you’re going through is a rut.”

“This better not be some kind of joke.”

Hands in the air, feigning surrender. “I’m not. You’ve probably never experienced it before because you ain’t got bitches you never had a partner. It’s the one time a year hormones go crazy. Some other Mobians also experience it too, like deer.”

Shadow’s massages his temples, processing the new information. “You’re telling me, it’s a biological signal that it is time to breed.”

“Odd way to put it but yeah, basically. Lasts about two months. What you do with that information is up to you. G’luck buddy” he gives Shadow a thumbs up and runs off.

Two whole months. Only about two and a half weeks have passed and already Shadow can’t stop thinking about you splayed on his bed begging for his touch.

[haikyu-mp4]

Foreign

word count; 1664 – f!reader, chubby reader

this is dedicated to the amazing writer and my very good friend, @cottonlemonade <3

You were new to Inarizaki this fall, starting in the middle of the semester. What a great time to try and make new friends, right? It is even better when you’re moving from another country and not fluent in the language. Sure, you understood Japanese well, but you could be quite slow in answering, so many of those you tried to interact with simply couldn’t be bothered, especially teenagers.

So when the principal sent an e-mail a few days before you started school, informing you that Kita Shinsuke would be showing you around on your first days, your expectations weren’t very high.

Needless to say, you were proven wrong. You got along very well with the kind boy who had the patience to wait for you to gather your words. It didn’t take long for him to suggest you join a club, asking if you might be interested in managing his volleyball team. He insisted that it could give you a boost into the social circles, but made sure you knew it was all up to you.

Here you are, two days after starting Inarizaki and standing at the entrance of the volleyball court with a tray of one of your favourite recipes from your home country. The tray was pushing into your squishy stomach as you clutched the sides nervously and tried to take a mental note of all the names you knew and the ones you would have to learn.

Everyone’s attention shifted when Kita cleared his throat and gestured towards you while looking at some of his teammates with strict eyes. “This is the girl I told you about, she will be trying out for manager this week so I expect you all to behave.”

Their gazes went to you and you gulped, quickly lifting the tray. “I brought a peace offering,” you said, having practised saying that in Japanese in the minutes before Kita met up with you.

Most of them slowly started coming over, but one seemed particularly drawn towards you, making his identical twin try and speed past him to reach you first. “What is this?” the silver-haired twin asked while fighting off the other one so he could grab first.

“It’s a recipe from my home country…” and as you explained it to him, you were thrilled to see he didn’t immediately get bored of you taking your time with finding the words. While all the other team members came and grabbed their pieces before settling somewhere in the gym to stretch and eat, Miya Osamu, who at some point remembered to introduce himself, stayed put in front of you to listen while munching on and appreciating the delicious homemade food.

“So you’re a foodie too, have you cooked any Japanese food yet?” he asked, and you tucked the tray under one arm now that it was empty, following him as the two of you walked over to where the manager should be.

“I haven’t, my parents don’t know much about it too,” you answered honestly.

Osamu chuckled. “Either,” he corrected, giving you the right Japanese expression for it. “They don’t know much either.” You blushed, looking to the side and only then noticing that the others were gathering to start practice. “But I could show you sometime? My mom and I love cooking.”

That is how you ended up in this predicament, wearing a matching apron with Osamu while Atsumu sat by the kitchen island with a judgy look.

You were a bit uncomfortable at first, wondering if the apron was too tight and exposed one too many of your curves for him to look at you like that, but you tried not to think about it when Osamu was being so nice and lending his time. After all, Osamu had not-so-subtly touched your waist or lower back whenever he had to move past you even if there really was no reason to do so.

“Hey, Atsumu,” you started, using your kindest voice, not noticing how Osamu sharply looked up from where he was preparing the last fillings. “Since I’ll be the manager, why don’t you tell me about being a setter?”

Atsumu leaned on his hand with his elbow on the counter and let his face slowly fall off it with his eyes closed. “Sorry! Almost fell asleep there, you were taking so long.”

Osamu was about to launch a whole spoon at his brother’s head “Ya stupid-“ when you burst out laughing.

It made Osamu’s stomach do flips as he watched you laugh with one hand leaning on the counter and the other clutching your chubby stomach. “You’re quite rude, aren’t ya?” you asked rhetorically, having already picked up a piece of their dialect.

Atsumu perked up in his seat when you didn’t seem to break under his insult, fighting back a smile of his own at how your laughter rang off the kitchen walls. “Pff, shut up.”

“You seem pretty intent on staying around so I can’t be that bad,” you teased, and it held just enough charm for him to accept it.

Atsumu squinted at you before going back to leaning on his palm. “I was just hoping to steal some food.”

You looked at Osamu with your sweet smile and said “What’s next, chef?”

The redness creeping up Osamu’s neck was not easy to hide. “Uhh, right. Just to shape them, really.”

“Is there a trick to make it nice?” you asked, holding some rice in one hand and eyeing the filings.

“If you count rounds, it’s easier than just squeezing randomly, so work your way around the shape-“ he explained, showing you with his rice ball as he talked.

You stared at your hands before shaping some rice and filling it, before grabbing another half of rice and… not making it quite as pretty. “Sorry, could you show me one more time? I want to do it as well as you without using moulds.”

Osamu started picking up more rice before stopping abruptly, throwing it back in the bowl and moving closer to you. That dummy had watched enough clichés to figure this was the perfect opportunity to wrap his hands around yours and show you. He executed said cliché perfectly, and the way your warm hands felt was almost enough to distract him from the task.

“Disgusting, right in front of my salad,” Atsumu complained before finally walking out of the kitchen to presumably bother their mother instead.

The two of you started filling and shaping the onigiri, bumping into each other now and then and throwing out flirty comments. If all the students at Inarizaki were so welcoming, you would be more than fine.

On Friday, after your last class, Kita stood outside your classroom and patiently waited for you. He bowed shortly after you exited, making you return the gesture. “Kita! What a pleasure,” you said.

He gestured towards the hallway so you could start walking together. “I wanted to ask how your first week has been.”

There’s a little skip in your step as you start thinking of this week. “I had trouble with some girls in the cafeteria, but I’m already feeling like my Japanese is developing much quicker so I’m sure it will all work out.”

Kita hummed under his breath, seemingly in thought for a moment before responding. “I see, I’m glad you’re looking on the positive side.” He turned a corner, making sure you followed as he steered towards the gym. “And the team? How are you feeling about the manager position?”

“They’re all very nice. Chaotic but fun,” you said with a soft chuckle. “Osamu has been especially welcoming, even though Atsumu gave me a hard time at first,” you continued, laughing at the last part.

Kita frowned, slowing down slightly. “A hard time? I hope you don’t feel pressured to accept the position, Atsumu can be… he has an attitude, but he works hard,” he excused, using his hands to gesture, and it was the first time you saw Kita look even a tad unsure.

Your short laughter made him stop, looking curiously at you. “I was going to say that if you’ll still have me, I’d love to accept the position.”

“That’s great news.” A small smile appeared on his face and that was enough for you, as you opened the door to the gym and gestured for him to walk first.

Osamu came jogging over the second you entered. “Hey, captain!” he greeted Kita as he passed him, heading straight for you. “How do you feel about trying something more complicated this weekend?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as if suggesting something much dirtier than cooking.

You shot him some finger guns, smooth as ever as he walked backwards towards the bench area while you faced him. “You’re on!” you responded cheerfully.

“Is my place still okay?” he asked, just as Atsumu walked over and bumped his shoulder, making him trip over his feet. You frantically held your cute, chubby hand out and he grabbed it before you helped him up again. You must have been a sight to see with your matching red cheeks.

“You lovebirds gonna take up the kitchen again?” Atsumu sighed dramatically. You noticed over his shoulder that Suna was filming this as Osamu caught his brother in a headlock.

“Leave our new manager alone!” Aran said in an authoritative yet fond voice. Kita stood beside him with his arms crossed, so you assumed he had told Aran that you accepted.

“So it’s decided?” Osamu asked, and the excitement in his voice was palpable.

“I will was your manager starting today!” you announced, already picking up the basket with their water bottles to go fill them up.

“Will be our manager,” Atsumu corrected, probably about to make another quip at you, only to be interrupted by Osamu chuckling affectionately and coming over to take the basket from you.

Kita shook his head at their antics. This would be a fun year with his team.

masterlist

[aellesira]

— LESSONS IN LOVE.

pairings, alhaitham x gn!reader, college au.

summary, one particular study session with your crush was all it took for you to realize he might feel the same way about you. 1.1k words.

content, reader being a tease, alhaitham blushing, fluff.

There was a strange, unfamiliar silence between you two today. Not that Alhaitham was a particularly chatty person, but it was you who had a habit of chirping in his ear all the time. He was often amazed at how productive his tutoring sessions with you were, considering how distracted you were. Talking constantly.

He didn’t mind being your tutor. In fact, he even enjoyed it. He was surprisingly patient, you’d heard, and a very excellent tutor. So when your college assigned him as your tutor, he’d expected another dull and uninterested student. Which you were, he had to admit.

But there was undeniably something about you that had him drawn to you. Whether it be the way you’d push yourself past your limits, surprising him when you were able to answer exam questions with ease after struggling for the longest time, or staying in the library late to finish your assignments. More so your charming personality, how funny you were… You always captivated him.

So, you became friends with him. It was you who initiated conversations, not because he didn’t want to talk with you, he just… couldn’t quite place the turmoil of emotions brewing within him like a storm, growing even more blustery each time he saw you. Denying what he thought he felt.

Today, he wanted to get through the material like he would with any other student that wasn’t you. No talking; questions and guidance if something didn’t wrap around your head. He didn’t rise to the bait whenever you made fun of him. Didn’t suppress his small smiles whenever you routinely thanked him for his help, because today he didn’t smile at you at all. Would there even be one second today where the two of you would meet each other’s eyes? Wait, now that you thought about it, there were surely quite a few more textbooks he brought than usual—

After a few more minutes of silence, while you completed another worksheet, you noticed that you could feel his intense gaze linger on you. 

“You've been around Kaveh a lot more recently, [Name].” He muttered. It wasn’t a question, and not a statement either. A simple observation. He’d hoped you hadn’t noticed the sharp edge in his voice as he spoke. 

You looked up, letting out an oblivious laugh. “Oh, I have been, haven’t?” At first, you didn’t think much of what he’d said, smiling playfully at him. But then you caught his eyes narrowing, as if in curiosity, almost—and maybe something else you couldn’t quite name— still, even now, looking anywhere but at you. “How’d you know? Did he tell you?”

Not exactly, Alhaitham thought. It’d been a rumour circling around the campus for a few days, he’d heard about you and Kaveh walking around and dropping each other off to your classes, sometimes making the occasional plan to go out for a coffee. It was the truth. But in your eyes, what you and Kaveh had was platonic, and you were certain that Kaveh saw things the same way you did. Although, to anyone else, it did seem like you two had a little romance blooming between the two of you. He didn’t try to respond, thinking about this.

The stillness stretched on for longer. You considered if what you wanted to ask would make him uncomfortable. Bit your lip. And ultimately chose to ask him. “What’s it to you, ‘Haitham?”

He clearly hadn’t expected you to raise such a question. For the first time in a while, he glanced up at you, hiding the surprise in his eyes. Knowing that he just couldn’t tell you how he felt about you, because, quite frankly, he didn’t even know what the fluttering in his chest meant himself. And he certainly didn’t know that the feeling was mutual.

“I didn’t like it.” Straightforward as he could be, as always. That’s how he’d always been, you supposed. Now, it was your turn to feel the strange beating of your heart, beating like a drum.

“And… why not?” Steadying your voice, because certainly, his claim had you flustered. Maybe the heat on your face was noticeable. Your studying session had long since paused. A few beats of silence passed, beats rhythmic with your own heartbeat, and, unknowingly, his, too. 

Again with the silence. He didn’t want to answer, this much was clear. He only stared at you. Staring, as if in a trance, so much that you couldn’t help but to meet his own intense gaze. There was no way to understand what he was thinking. His gaze never left your own, and suddenly you began to notice little things about him you’d never thought about before.

The way the early evening glow of sunlight highlighted the contours of his face, radiated off the light turquoise of his eyes, making them glitter in the dimness of the library. The way his usually stoic and reserved facade was now crumbling. The way the tips of his ears were tinged with a rosy pink. That was cute, you couldn’t lie. Not something you’d quite expect from a man like Alhaitham.

“...He doesn’t deserve you. You shouldn’t be with him.” Oh.

“What?” So that’s what happened. He thought, as most students here had also, that you might’ve fallen for Kaveh. An interesting thought, in its own way; but it couldn’t be farther from reality. 

Now he had turned his head away completely. “And who are you to tell me who I can and cannot date?” you mumbled. Not that you were trying to win Kaveh’s affections, but the idea that Alhaitham was telling what you could and could not do rubbed you the wrong way, evidently. But then an idea sprouted in your mind.

“Surely you’re not… jealous, are you?” Alhaitham was all-too-familiar with that honeyed tone, the one you used whenever you teased him. He turned his head around.

“Be quiet and do your work.” He tried to change the subject, tried to put up that stoic facade he could never put up with you around, tried to get you back on track, but now, you had other plans. 

“ ‘Haitham~! You don’t like the idea of me and Kaveh being together?” Alhaitham’s silence seemed ordinary by this point. “ ‘Haitham, did you know that your ears are really red!!” As if on cue, his ears became impossibly redder. “Alhaitham~!!” Although outwardly it seemed like you took pleasure in embarrassing him, inwardly you couldn’t help but think that he looked so strangely cute like that, red ears, averting gaze from you.

“Shut up.” And, inwardly, he liked that you always teased him as much you did.

for my best friend <3.

[qtkat]

experiments tainted by valium ⋆·˚ ༘ *

gender: not specified

pairing: sheldon cooper x reader

word count: 1739 (short n’ sweet)

notes: i haven’t published anything i’ve written in a while and i’ve been a bit stuck with my other projects so i thought i’d mix it up! it’s pretty obvious but this is set in s2e1 when sheldon comes home after howard gives him valium lmao. i really just wrote this for me tbh so if you read this i hope you enjoy xx <3

just thinking about how happy sheldon is when he sees you standing in the door of his apartment, having already forgotten howard’s existence as his eyes meet yours. he stumbles into the apartment, letting out a drawn out and high-pitched “hey!”

they -his eyes- look a little clouded over to you, and you raise a brow incredulously at your jewish friend who’s standing next to him, while simultaneously trying to get your very tall friend to stand up straight on his own. “there she is! my ole’ neighbor turned temporary roommate,” sheldon continues while stumbling past you, taking small steps through the room, looking around a little bewildered.

glaring sleepily, your eyes in two slits, you cross your arms at howard. “what did you do?” you asked a little confused as to why sheldon got dumped back here when he was the one who wanted to move out in the first place.

sighing while keeping his eyes on sheldon howard began to explain, “koothrappali dumped him on me and he couldn’t get to sleep, so i gave him a glass of warm milk with a handful of my mom’s valium in it.” he said as if this happened standardly.

now both of your eyebrows were up at your hairline and you looked at howard with wide eyes, leaned forward a little. “and he still wouldn’t shut up, so— tag, you’re it!” he finishes by unceremoniously dropping sheldon’s bag onto the floor and immediately making his way down the stairs.

you looked after him for a second before looking back towards the beanstalk of a man now leaning on his desk with a hand propped up onto his hip. “i’m back” he sing-song’ed happily, letting a rare smile peek through in his drugged state.

you close the door with a sigh and start walking towards the living room in tandem with sheldon. “not like i even knew why you left in the first place” you reply dryly, but as per usual he doesn’t pick up on it and just lowers himself onto the chair’s armrest. “i can’t tell you” he replies, piquing your interest.

now the gears in your head started turning, maybe still a little groggily since you’d just gotten woken up by your drugged neighbor and annoyed friend, but they were moving. you needed to know what made him leave, you knew he hated change so it was either something really serious or something really stupid. your undergrad in psychology should probably help you get to the core of it.

you take a seat opposite him on the living room’s coffee table and look up at him, “why not?” you inquired softly, “i promised penny,” he breathed out, breaking eye contact and letting his head fall back a bit.

“you promised penny what?” you could feel yourself getting closer, subconsciously leaning forward a bit so you could hear anything coming out of his mouth, since he didn’t have a very right grasp on what would and wouldn’t.

“i wouldn’t tell you the secret.” he mumbled, but you heard it nonetheless. he let himself fall back into the chair and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t currently on a personal mission to find out what penny was telling sheldon behind your back. “shh!” he interjected the silence with a finger on his lips, looking at you with wide-blown eyes.

you stood up and took a seat on the brown chair next to his now and tried keeping his attention on you while you moved, batting your eyes at him sickly sweet while he moved to sit upright, you placed your hand on his chair’s armrest. “what secret, shelly?”

he turned now to look at you seriously, a pout on his face that made something in the back of your mind scream adorable but which you pushed away leveling his stare with one of your own.

you hoped the use of his nickname would make him trust you more and tell him the secret, but apparently it worked a bit too well and you skipped straight towards the family secrets instead. “mom smokes in the car,” he pauses and you give him a confounded look, brows furrowed. “jesus is okay with it but we can’t tell dad.” he shakes his head at the last part, making you heave a sigh and drop your head in your hands.

you wouldn’t give up yet, however. “not that one dear, the other secret.” you tried getting him back on track but this just resulted in him lowering his voice an octave and whisper-yelling “i’m batman!” while shushing your ‘no’s afterward once more.

“sheldon come on! work with me here.” you moved your chair closer to his and looked him straight in the eye. “you said that penny told you a secret, will you tell me it shelley?” you begged, putting on your best puppy dog eyes with scrunched eyebrows combo and started smiling when he threw his head back with a sigh. “alright i’ll tell you,” he replied, making you celebrate silently with yourself, “but you can’t tell leonard.” you nodded happily along with him.

“my lips are sealed” you smiled out, sitting up a bit straighter, ready for the secret that made sheldon want to move out. “penny lied about finishing community college, because she’s afraid she’s not smart enough for leonard.” he finishes by looking at his hand and moving it around in his field of vision.

you kept looking at him, a little disappointed that was all. “and.. that’s it?” you asked, and he looked back at you, leaving his hand alone again. “i drank milk that tasted funny,” he said, making you come back to your senses and give him an apologetic smile.

“d’you need me to help you get to bed?” you offered, making him scrunch his eyebrows at you in distaste. “don’t be silly, i want to stay up with you.” he stated, catching you by surprise.

you knew sheldon didn’t dislike you, he said hi to you at work, he let you eat dinner at his house, hell- he even let you stay there right now while the apartment manager was fixing your broken window. but evading his rigorous sleep schedule? that made you stop in your tracks a bit. “wha- uh- why?” you tried to speak, sputtering out a response to keep him awake.

he let his head fall back again, his eyes closed and a smile took over his face — it was honestly a bit freaky, but mostly just endearing. “you are very endearing when you’re half asleep” he mumbles out, letting his words linger in the air a bit. your eyes are blown wide and you try to find a response, but you only manage to open and close your mouth like a fish on dry land.

his eyes open and he lets his head loll to the side, looking at you with a dopey expression on his face, “and you called me shelley,” he said. you’d never heard his voice so soft, so without ridicule, it was weird and it made your insides warm. “usually no one can call me that.” he continued, your face slowly heating up in what you assumed was embarrassment.

“but you’re inexplicable y/n.” he sits up a little straighter now, eyes still a little glazed over but determined nonetheless. “anyone else calls me shelley, i don’t like it, but when you do, i do. when someone else needs a place to stay i don’t want them here, but when you do, i do.” he explains softly, trying to reason with himself.

you know you shouldn’t listen to him right now, it’s late and you’re both tired — and more importantly he’s on drugs, but you can’t help but want to grab this moment with him, scared there won’t be any more chances to shoot your shot with the stoic man.

“sheldon?” you ask, but he shakes his head in that disappointed way you’re so used to and corrects you.“shelley.” he interjects matter of factly, and you continue. “alright- shelley, can i preform an experiment?” you ask, shifting a little closer towards him again. he thinks on it for a second before snickering like a kid and and smiling your way. “i love experiments!” he cheered.

“alright” you begin, shifting a little in your seat. “take note of how you’re feeling right now- physically.” you instruct and he nods along. there’s a small pause before he motions with his hand for you to continue.“my data suggests,” you take a deep breath, this is it, “that this would make your heartbeat increase.” you state as he looks at you confused. “my heartbe-” he starts but is cut off by your lips on his, your eyes sewn tightly shut, not wanting to see his reaction just yet.

you stay like that for a moment, unmoving and a little rigid but feeling his soft lips on yours, then you move away, eyes still closed. a couple beats of silence pass before sheldon lets out a “woah” which makes you open one eye cautiously. his eyes are blown wide and his cheeks have a little bit of a blush spreading along their surface, his hand is placed over his heart and he looks at you wordlessly, mouth hanging open slightly.

both of you blink at each other and you swallow a little loudly. you clear your throat a little, “was my hypothesis correct, shelley?” you ask softly, your voice raw with emotion as the man before you just nods in shell-shock. “i believe so,” he stutters out meekly, hand still gripping his pajama shirt.

“well, then why don’t you ponder the implications this has on its field while i.. go..” you rasp out, trying to make this make sense to sheldon’s impossible brain, which seemed a success at his small nod and now finally closed mouth.

you stand up fast and make your way towards leonard’s room where your air mattress resided because even if sheldon wasn’t home people ‘aren’t supposed to be in his room’ and you closed the door softly behind you, leaving a star-struck physicist alone in his living room looking at the empty chair before him, trying to sort out feelings he’d never felt before.

he looked towards leonard’s door and back towards where you’d been sitting just moments before, his stomach fluttering as he thought back to his first kiss from just seconds ago.

“oh dear”

[glimmeringtwilight]

Gilded Cage (Part Three)

ok. i'm not going to try to come up with a clever name for this one, this is just. part three. please send an ask or a DM if I missed any CW's! been a while.

Pairing(s): Dottore/Reader, Pantalone/Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

CW: NSFW, drugging (painkillers and other ment), rough sex, biting, threats of mutilation (mild. but it's Dottore), yandere themes, noncon/dubcon, AFAB reader, overstimulation, humiliation

Dottore has been on edge lately. 

You can tell. You can see it in his jaw when he’s sedating you as you lie on the operating table, eyes burning and dark as he stares through you at something presumably only he can see. You can see it in the way his hand sometimes twitches slightly– which bodes terribly for you– as he makes a small incision into your thigh, or your stomach, or your arm.

Most of the time, you think he just cuts into you simply because he can. Because he likes to watch the blood welling from the wound, dripping down your skin. He’s been doing it a lot more lately, sometimes forgetting to sedate you, sometimes forgetting to give you something for the pain, sometimes cutting too deep.

It feels like there’s a storm brewing that you can’t see; curtains drawn so you can’t look out the window and see the magnitude, brace yourself for wind or rain.  

His clones seem to be affected by it, too; usually it’s only ever the younger clones of his that lash out, but even the supposedly older ones are starting to show signs of agitation. You haven’t seen the same test subject twice in what feels like weeks. All of them seem to enter and leave the lab only once– something that should horrify you more than it does, whenever you watch them wheeling the covered bodies past. 

It’s this way for weeks. Dottore stalks around his lab like a harbinger of death, practically oozing poison and malice despite the deceptively calm mask he dons. 

You find out what it is that’s been agitating him when he opens the door to your cell one morning. Not a clone. Not the occasional trembling Fatuus. Him. His eyes burn into you. You can’t make out the emotion in them, but the complete coolness in his expression makes your stomach sink. You wonder, briefly, if he’s going to finally kill you– would that be a mercy, at this point? Killing you? Perhaps not. Knowing him, he’d draw it out. Make it hurt. 

Still, despite the terror that curls its fingers around your throat, you follow him quietly out of the cell and into the lab, staring at the back of his head as you walk and wishing you could read minds so you could at least brace yourself for whatever this is.

The two of you enter the lab and you finally realize what it is that’s crawled under Dottore’s skin, sat at the desk in the corner as though he’s not terribly out of place in the sterile environment. 

Pantalone sits comfortably in one of the chairs near the desk Dottore rarely seems to use, smiling as though he’s received a warm welcome and a parade. Dottore, meanwhile, looks palpably annoyed as he strides past the banker and takes a seat behind the desk, motioning for you to follow. 

It’s… Intensely uncomfortable, to say the least. You rarely find yourself sitting at Dottore’s desk, considering the doctor usually prefers to be conducting experiments rather than sitting and compiling data; he usually delegates that to his clones, who bitch and moan about the boring task. 

So sitting in a chair, next to the two men who’ve each held you captive at different points, as Dottore practically radiates anger… You don’t know what to do. You fold your hands in your lap, avoiding looking at either one, even as you can feel the two of them just… staring. 

You feel like you’re under a microscope, worse than any other time before when you’d been laid out on the operating table under Dottore’s invasive prodding.

Pantalone speaks first, breaking the charged silence. 

“I take it you don’t mind if I verify that this one’s real,” He says, rising from his chair and smiling at the way Dottore visibly bristles. “After all, I’m paying for this, aren’t I? I deserve that much.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about you, and the demeaning way in which he’s referring to you as though you’re some object that might be counterfeit is both unnerving and irritating. You’re careful not to let it show on your face as Pantalone approaches you. 

“What-” You start to ask, but you’re swiftly interrupted by gloved fingers prying open your mouth, prodding around in search of something that isn’t there. You feel them press down on your tongue, ghost over molars, then press against the back of your throat until you gag. 

Somewhat satisfied, the banker pulls his fingers from your mouth and grips your chin firmly with a now-damp glove, turning your head this way and that and ignoring the obvious discomfort painted on your features as the action smears drool on your skin. What is he doing?

You shoot a glance towards Dottore, who is still just watching. He’s obviously pissed– you can see a vein popping in his forehead, belaying his anger on his otherwise blank face. 

Pantalone lets go of your chin in favor of grabbing you by the arms, pulling you up from your chair and motioning for you to spin around in a circle. You do, though you’re still confused, unsure of what’s happening as the banker seems to be appraising you like a precious gem. It’s a different type of poking and prodding than Dottore’s usual tests and checkups, but it’s invasive nonetheless. It’s doubly unsettling that this is the first time you’ve seen the banker without his usual smarmy smile. 

Hands find your shoulders and stop you again, and you bristle when they trace the curve of your spine, exposed thanks to the open back of the hospital gown. You feel them stop, tap something just to the left of one of your vertebrae, and Pantalone spins you back around to face him, clearly pleased. 

You try not to flinch when he takes a lock of your hair in his hands– it’s gotten so long since you’d been brought back to the lab– and brings it closer to his face. His nose crinkles, palpable disgust on his features, and he mutters something about “that vile soap he makes you use”– likely referring to Dottore– before turning around to face the man in question. 

“Are you done ogling?” Dottore asks, his tone clipped. You can’t see him around the banker, but you’re sure he still looks as pissed as before. 

Pantalone tilts his head slightly, smiling, then glances over his shoulder at you. “Perhaps not yet, but I’m satisfied enough for now. You’ll get the funding for your little… project, and I expect to see this one at my doorstep every other month from now on.”

Every other month? You frown. Is this some sort of… custody arrangement that the two men worked out? You don’t know if you want to laugh or not at the absurdity of it all; like you’re the unfortunate child of two divorced bastards, except this is much, much worse.

“Fine,” Dottore grits out, in a tone that suggests it’s anything but. He gets up to shoo the banker out of his lab, but Pantalone merely tuts and makes his way back over to where you’re standing, confused, and rests one hand heavily on your shoulder.

“One month starting today, of course,” Pantalone continues, “It’s only fair, after all, when you’ve been hoarding my poor pet this whole time. I have to make up for lost time, after all.”

He delivers those words with a smile that only seems to irritate Dottore further, red eyes boring holes into him as Dottore visibly seems to be contemplating murder. Pantalone speaks up again before he does anything, however, offering a hollow consolation: “Of course, I’m not cruel. How about a farewell? A parting gift, to… tide you over while they’re gone?”

You don’t like the sound of that, and Dottore seems to pick up on the banker’s suggestion as you’re spun around once more and ushered towards the exam table you’ve become intimately familiar with for the last several months. 

For this supposedly being Dottore’s “parting gift,” Pantalone is awfully remiss to keep his hands– and commentary– to himself. 

“Ah, what a cute noise that was,” You hear him coo, a finger tapping your nose with just enough force to startle you so you flinch, “Don’t you think you’re being a bit rough though, Doctor?”

“Quiet.”

You jostle against the table, gripping the edge of it for support as hips snap into yours with bruising force. Dottore’s fingers are gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises– that’s probably the point, honestly; he’s fucking you like he intends for you to feel it for the entire month you’ll be absent. 

Pantalone’s comments aren’t helping things either; despite the banker’s comment about roughness, it only seems to have encouraged the doctor to go even harder. 

Thankfully, you were given something for the pain, but not from Dottore. Pantalone had pressed a pill into your gasping mouth when Dottore had started, telling you that you were going to need it, and though swallowing was a struggle, you’re glad he did. 

Dull pain and sharp pleasure mingle together, and you’ve long since lost track of the orgasms that have been dragged out of you. You’re starting to numb, honestly, overstimulation bleeding into pain, and you gasp into the table with every sharp thrust into you. 

“Tsk– don’t pass out now,” Pantalone chides, fingers curling around your jaw and biting into your cheeks when your eyes threaten to flutter shut, and Dottore snarls something about cutting your spinal cord if you do; something you sincerely hope is an empty threat, given the black spots dancing in your vision. “You still have another thirty minutes to go.”

You don’t remember there being a timer set, much less a time limit, but you certainly know you can’t last that much longer. Your knees have already long since given out, and Dottore had to hoist you up further onto the table so he could continue, leaving your feet dangling a few inches above the ground. 

You feel weight against your back, heat, smothering you as Dottore leans down to sink his teeth into your shoulder as he spills inside you once more, and you shudder through another weak orgasm in response, your eyes rolling back and your vision blacking out for several long moments. 

Pantalone shakes you back awake before you can slip too far, and you sob as Dottore starts to move again. You already know that you won’t be able to walk for the next few days, if not for the next week. 

Tears blur your vision, the world spinning around you as a gloved hand comes to rest against your head, petting you in what’s likely intended as a comforting gesture but only seems to frazzle you further, overwhelmed and overstimulated as you are. 

It must be Pantalone, because Dottore lets out an irritated noise, sinking his teeth into your skin to leave a new mark as he resumes the harsh pace he’d set earlier. Another hand, this one not gloved, curls around your throat to dig two fingers into your racing pulse as he tries to engrave himself into your flesh through means slightly less violent than cutting you open. 

You can barely keep track of who’s doing what– your vision is too blurred and you’re too far gone to fully piece together a coherent thought before it and the breath are knocked out of you by another snap of Dottore’s hips. One of them reaches down to rub circles into sensitive nerves, and you sob as another climax is ripped unwillingly out of you. 

You black out for longer this time, shaken awake once more by Pantalone. He’s cooing something at you that you can’t make out, drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears and the sound of Dottore’s ragged breaths mixing in with your own. 

It feels like you’re burning up, shivering weakly under Dottore’s crushing weight as the man seems to be pouring every ounce of frustration into his thrusts, and darkness encroaches on the corners of your vision with every movement. 

Another shuddering orgasm. You twitch weakly through it, your body registering the sensation more than your mind does. 

The world seems to tip, swaying like a vessel rocked by choppy waves before finally capsizing. Your vision goes, and you’re pulled into a sea of static. 

It smells like lilacs. 

It’s the first thing you notice when you slowly come to, a stark contrast to the smell of bleach and copper that you’ve become accustomed to. You’re also dressed in some proper clothes– or rather, ”proper,” compared to the usual paper-thin hospital gowns you’ve worn since being brought back to the lab. 

Opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the familiar luxuries you remember seeing when you were last in Pantalone’s care, and the sight would nearly be a relief if consciousness didn’t bring with it the unbearable ache in every inch of your body. There’s a budding headache building behind your temples, stinging pains from various bites and bruises littering your skin like brands.

It aches most between your legs, but there’s an ache in your thighs and your stomach like you’d pulled every muscle within; you probably did, honestly, but you try to push back the memory invading your thoughts and you sit up in bed. 

“You’re awake,” A silky voice drawls from behind you just as you sit up, and you turn around to see Pantalone sitting in an armchair in the corner, one leg folded over the other as he reads a book. He doesn’t look up as he addresses you; he just pats his knee, indicating he expects you to come to him. You’re not sure you can walk…

Climbing out of the soft bed hurts, various muscles protesting the movement, and you’re not surprised when your knees give out on you the second you rest your weight on your feet. Pantalone simpers at you from where he sits, amused, but he makes no move to help you stand up or walk. He just pats his thigh again, smiling at you. 

“I can’t walk,” Even talking hurts, evidenced by the crackling of your voice when you speak. 

“Then crawl.”

He says it so simply, as though you should have already known the answer. Your ears burn with humiliation. You don’t move.

“Don’t make me punish you on your first day back,” He says, setting his book down so he can properly address you. His tone is disappointed, but you don’t miss the way the bastard’s smile widens at the idea. 

Pantalone’s punishments aren’t nearly as severe as Dottore’s are, at least in terms of pain. Rather than physical punishments, he seems to prefer humiliation. You’re tempted to try your luck, but… everything hurts. You don’t want him to decide you haven’t earned the privilege of clothes– or find something equally humiliating and degrading– on top of the pain you’re already in.

Crawling hurts. Every muscle protests the movement, yet again, but you force yourself to ignore the aches, to ignore the humiliation burning beneath your skin at being made to crawl over to him. 

When you finally reach him you sit up unsteadily so you can climb into his lap, but you’re surprised when he stops you by pressing a gloved hand firmly against your head to keep you planted on your knees in front of him. 

Instead of addressing your confusion, Pantalone merely smiles and takes hold of your wrist, raising your arm to inspect the scars and bruises littering your skin from the months spent under Dottore’s care. His face twists with disgust, shifting into faux sympathy when he addresses you again, “Poor thing. Look what he’s done to you…”

His free hand comes to rest on his knee as he straightens up, uncrossing his legs, and you hear a steady tap tap tap as he drums his index finger against his knee thoughtfully. “Aren’t you glad I’ve brought you back from that wretched place?”

It’s a leading question. You know he expects you to answer correctly, and you get the sense he’s leading into something; a demand. “...Yes.”

“I knew you would be.” He says, dropping your wrist and leaning back comfortably in the armchair. He looks down at you, clearly pleased with the position you’re in. He props one elbow against the arm of the chair, resting his head in his hand as he smiles down at you. “Why don’t you be a good pet and show me just how appreciative you are?”

The implication isn’t lost on you, but whatever hope you’d had that he might mean something else is dashed as he spreads his legs slightly further apart to make room for you between them, and you don’t miss the growing bulge in his dress pants. 

Your hands are numb as you reach for his belt, and you barely flinch when his hand rests heavily against the back of your hand as you take him into your mouth. 

One cage for another. You’re not even sure you’re relieved, because every part of you still aches from the reminders Dottore had left you with. 

His hand presses against the back of your head, guiding you to take him further into your mouth, and you struggle to breathe around his length. You nearly gag as he pushes you down further, pushing back in resistance, and Pantalone clicks his tongue in disappointment but thankfully, lets up. Maybe he doesn’t want to ruin his pants. 

“I’ll get you something for the scarring,” He murmurs, fingers curling in your hair as you bob your head up and down his length. “And those garish bruises.”

Whether it’s an insult towards you or Dottore, you’re not sure. You try not to focus on it, instead focusing on the task at hand. You lave your tongue along the base of his shaft, earning a small shiver and a heady sigh from him. 

He’s silent for a few minutes as you continue to pleasure him, but you feel him boring holes into the top of your head. You don’t look up at him; you don’t want to. You’re trying to get this over with, and hoping that his silence means you’re doing well. 

The hand on the top of your head leaves, and you flinch when you feel him trace his fingers over one of the scabbed over bites left by Dottore, nearly biting down in surprise. You swallow, suppress the urge, resuming your pace even as he traces the outline of every bite left littered along your neck, your collarbone, your shoulders.

Pantalone straightens up a little, pressing his hand against the back of your head again to force you to take more than you already can. This time, he doesn’t relent when you push back, just holding his hand still until you stop whimpering and you manage to swallow back the urge to gag. 

“Hush.” He tells you in response to your muffled noises, groaning quietly at the way your throat vibrates around his cock.

You eventually relax, eventually get used to the feeling, and he lets you pull back slightly before he’s pressing down again, repeating until tears are spilling down your cheeks as you struggle not to reflexively bite down each time you gag slightly around his length. 

“How would you feel about something… permanent?” He asks, and his fingers are tracing the bites again. You try to pull back to answer, but his other hand stops you and he rocks his hips lazily into your mouth. A rhetorical, then; he doesn’t care for your answer.

You try to blink back your tears as you resume the pace you’d set, sucking lightly on his cock as his hand curls into your hair. It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying as his hand keeps threatening to force you down farther than you can take, and you’re focusing on stamping down the swelling nausea. 

“Something- hm-” He hums, and you can tell he’s getting close now, with the way his breathing is starting to deepen, his hand tightening its hold on your hair- “something tasteful. Not like those eyesores he leaves you. A collar is- fuck- too… too easy to remove.”

You don’t like where this is going, but humming your dissent only earns you a pleasured hiss and a rumble of praise spilling from his lips before he’s curling his fingers around the back of your neck. 

It’s the only warning you get before he shoves your head down, holding you there as cum spills into your mouth and down your throat. It takes everything in you to relax your jaw, and you pull back gasping and sputtering the second he relents.

By the time your vision clears and you blink back the tears spilling from your eyes, he’s already tucked himself back into his pants and is just watching you struggle to catch your breath. He doesn’t even comment on the mess of cum and drool that spilled from your lips onto the floor. 

It takes you a second to realize he’s not staring at you, but rather at the marks left on your skin. 

After a minute of tense silence, he smiles again, patting his lap this time in invitation for you to sit, and you ignore the familiar sting of humiliation as you obey. Again, one of his hands curls around the nape of your neck, tracing some pattern into your skin. 

“Right here,” He murmurs, though he doesn’t elaborate when your brows pinch together in confusion.

It takes you a second to realize he’s tracing invisible letters across your nape, then another few to realize it’s his name that he’s tracing into your skin. 

Something tells you that Dottore isn't going to be pleased to see you again at the end of the month.

[aventurineswife]

Crossing blades with Argenti. It looks like a terrifying fight where either side could be defeated by a singular blow. They've been going at it for ages now, and onlookers get worried for each side. Turns out its just a friendly sparing match between reader and Argenti...they just got too into it and probably started in the middle of some street...and maybe they 'accidently' get arrested. (Totally platonic besties)

A Symphony of Swords

Summary: Argenti and you engage in an intense, all-out sparring match in the middle of a bustling city street. What starts as a friendly contest of skill soon escalates into a near-disastrous duel, drawing the attention of the local authorities. In the end, you both end up in a holding cell, laughing at your accidental misadventure while plotting your way out. It’s all in a day’s work for two best friends who’ve gotten a little too into their friendly rivalry.

Tags: Argenti x Reader, Platonic, Friendly Sparring, Humor, Lighthearted, Action, Mischief.

Warnings: Mild violence (combat in the form of a sparring match), Minor destruction of property (?), Arrest (but in a lighthearted, non-serious manner).

The clang of metal against metal rang through the streets, echoing off the stone walls of the city square. Sparks flew with each clash, scattering like fireflies in the twilight. Onlookers had long since stopped their evening strolls, their attention caught by the two figures locked in a battle so fierce it seemed one wrong move would spell the end.

Argenti, the paragon knight of Beauty, fought with grace and precision, his blade an extension of his will. Every strike he delivered was poetry in motion, a testament to his dedication. His eyes, shimmering, shone with exhilaration.

You, on the other hand, were holding your ground with equal intensity, your own weapon moving in sync with his, countering and attacking with the same fervor. The fight had started as a simple spar—just a test of skills between trusted companions—but somewhere along the way, it had escalated into an all-out battle.

"Your form is impeccable today," Argenti praised between strikes, parrying your latest attack with a flourish.

"You’re just saying that because I haven’t hit you yet," you shot back, sidestepping and aiming a swift counterstrike toward his exposed side. He barely managed to block it in time, a grin tugging at his lips.

The gathered crowd murmured amongst themselves. Some whispered in worry, others watched in awe. The spectacle had drawn far too much attention, but neither of you seemed to notice—or care. The rush of combat had taken over, each of you pushing the other to their limits, relishing in the challenge.

A particularly strong blow from Argenti sent you skidding back, your boots dragging against the stone pavement. You steadied yourself, shaking out your wrists. "Alright, alright. That one hurt."

"Shall we call it a draw, then?" Argenti asked, though his stance remained poised for another attack.

"You wish," you scoffed, lunging forward once more.

Before your blades could meet again, a sudden voice cut through the tension.

"That’s enough!"

A group of city guards stormed onto the scene, weapons drawn, their expressions a mix of exasperation and frustration. The crowd quickly dispersed, whispering about how this was bound to happen.

You and Argenti froze, both of you still in mid-motion, blades inches from each other’s throats. You slowly lowered your weapon, glancing at the guards with an innocent smile. "Oh. Hey there."

One of the guards pinched the bridge of his nose. "We’ve had multiple reports about two maniacs dueling in the middle of the street. Again."

Argenti, ever the knight, cleared his throat and sheathed his blade. "Ah. My apologies. We were merely engaged in a sparring session. It was not our intention to cause alarm."

"You’re literally blocking half the marketplace," another guard deadpanned, gesturing to the overturned carts and scattered wares from when you two had, perhaps, been a bit too enthusiastic.

You glanced at Argenti. He looked at you.

Simultaneously, you both turned on your heels and took off running.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE!"

The chase didn’t last long—knights of Beauty were formidable warriors, but even they couldn’t outrun a squad of determined city guards. Before long, you and Argenti found yourselves seated side by side in a holding cell, your weapons confiscated for “public safety reasons.”

Argenti sighed, leaning back against the cold stone wall. "A most unfortunate turn of events."

You snorted. "Oh, come on. You can’t say that wasn’t fun."

He cast you a sideways glance, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. "Perhaps a little."

A moment of silence stretched between you before you both burst into laughter.

"Think we can convince them this was all a misunderstanding?" you asked after a moment.

Argenti considered it. "Perhaps if we appeal to their sense of justice and artistry."

You gave him a deadpan look. "Or we could bribe them with free sparring lessons."

He hummed thoughtfully. "A most unconventional approach… but worth attempting."

And thus, another day in your chaotic rivalry with Argenti came to an eventful close.

[comfortless]

Only Other

chapter three of three.

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. historical au (set around 350BC); potential inaccuracies as i am no historian!, König speaks some German here (as opposed to Gothic), mutual pining & worship, smut (piv), sliiiight breeding kink, violence, as always König is horribly in love and says ridiculously worrisome things, reader feigns ambivalence but is equally unhinged and smitten.

notes: eternally grateful to @wordsbyvani for reading over my shoulder and genuinely being the sweetest throughout every part. ^^ and again to @writersdrug for giving me the idea to begin with!

wc: 9k.

<- previous.

König’s men arrive sometime in the afternoon, a few hours behind but carrying hoards of supplies. There are weapons you recognize to be from your city stuffed into bags, pelts and silks and twinkling stones, meats and fruits. They had not forgotten to bring along wine, either: two barrels to either side of a gray mare led along behind one of their rugged steeds by a length of thick rope.

You don’t ask how they found her, let alone how they managed to actually tame her down enough to follow amidst the chaos that broke out the night prior. A weak string of “thank you”s leaves your lips when you press your nose to the horse's snout, sobbing into her silver fur. She seems less bothered, huffing impatiently as she’s tethered up with the others against broad trees.

You’re not convinced that here or anywhere is safe anymore, and you don’t assist when the men begin to set up their camp. They’ve enough supplies and arms to do it themselves, anyhow.

Guilt, trepidation and confusion, haunt you: cast out for all to see by your forlorn stares and the tremor of your lower lip as you continuously fight an internal battle to keep yourself sane. And how could you? You’ve only come to reason that this has all come to fruition because of you, because of the things that you could not help. Your curiosity, fascinations, and impiety had all led you to be here, now, while everyone you once knew sleeps eternally.

You have condemned yourself to the life of a slave girl, and later to the darkness of the Orcus when you do die.

Though… men do not give their slaves the looks that König gives to you. You haven’t spoken to him in hours, and you do your best to avoid his glances, shoot down his smiles with the curved arrow of your own sullen frowns. Still… amidst setting up the tents and gathering wood for the fire to stave off the chill of nightfall, you catch the very stars reflected over a sea in his eyes.

There is love there, a too-uncanny and harrowing love, but a great devotion nonetheless. It burns like a fire of its own in your chest, inescapable and rampant. You know it in the spaces behind your skull, your ribs, that what he feels is another cage: roomier, softer, but you will never be free of it either.

König does not follow you to the tent when the moon rises. He sits by the fire, watching as you go with the pelt drawn up over your shoulders and curled around you. When you sink into the bed of fur that has replaced the straw mattress from before you find yourself somehow even more fitful here than outside. Sleep is evasive, leaving you tossing and twisting amidst the smell of sweat and animal fur. Not even the crackling fire outside defeats the quiet or the cold in the air.

There’s a sickly pit in your stomach, thorn seedling threatening to take root and spread the longer you stare up at the blackened abyss of the tent ceiling. If you’re to live a life torn, at the very least you could be warm; you take to König’s side in moments, joining him by the slowly dwindling flame.

The brute isn’t sleeping, either, just… lost. Lost like you the day that you met him.

“I need to look at your wound.” Your excuse comes weak and puny, doe limbs and fragile glances when you do sit at his side and speak. You’ve never been anyone’s ‘Göttin’, you don’t know what you’re doing, what blessings to grant or judgments to cast. Avoiding him only seems a punishment for you both, and you’ve had your share of those.

König is anything but small: even amidst the turmoil your silence has gifted to him, he still seems himself, all ego and cruelly cut silver, softened only by your words, your touch.

“Richtig,” he mutters, reaches out to pull you in, and you let him. Straddling his lap with only the moon above awake to witness, cast her curious gaze down and illuminate the expanse of his chest whilst you work to pull away the bandages.

There isn’t much to tend to, it’s healing well. The flesh that once seemed inflamed has only drawn back its redness to simmer to the natural color of his skin. When you begin your careful prodding, it does not hurt him. He doesn’t so much as flinch or huff at your touch.

When you dab your index in the sweet honey that serves as a salve, he grasps at your hand and brings it up to his lips, presses a kiss to your index and middle without hesitation. And you see it then: a glimmer of hesitation in the way his lips pull and his eyes search your own, a silent plea for vindication.

You’ve never been cold to him, not even as he spoke with so much self-importance when you first met, not when he rutted his blade between your parted legs, not even now after all that he’s done. In his own way of thinking, these things have all been some display of courtship. There’s never cruelty toward you, not in his touch, the words that he speaks, and especially not in those somber eyes. These things break down the last fraying edge of your resolve.

You press your mouth to his, sharing the taste of honey pressed to his lips, everything sugary and warm. Over and over until the night begins to close its way in, plump clouds drifting over the pearl hanging in the sky when you finally find yourself tucked back into the tent with König curled at your side. He holds you closer than he ever has, not from a fear you’ll take off under the darkened sky, but in the honoring of something far greater. Some love comes quiet like flower blooms, his comes with fire.

“Wolves pair in winter,” he says quietly, burying his face into your hair. It’s shy, almost, as though the man has not already embedded his scent into your very skin and toyed with your most sensitive parts. It’s truer, more heartfelt, than even his confessions of love.

“Is that what you see us as being?” You laugh, a slow, gentle chime that aches your throat, face still puffy from tears and voice scratchy from those thick clouds of smoke.

“Ja…”

“You really…” The words get caught up someplace in the spaces between your lungs and tongue. You don’t want to cry, not anymore, but you find it difficult not to choke up after so much comfort with a lifetime of so very little. “You do care for me, don’t you?”

He answers your question in a grumble, a string of foreign words only meant for mountain caverns and creatures that walk on all fours and somehow they make sense. A resounding yes, in three gutteral sounding words. The frayed ends of guilt and anger finally drift off as you settle into his hold like a den of pure comfort, warm and buried in a world of fur and a man blessed by trees and the earth rather than gods and myth.

When the breeze picks up outside, rustling sprawling oak limbs, momentarily silencing the fire, its as if they answer him in your stead. You don’t cry, though it aches, but you let go of the memories of all your begging to those that never seemed to listen. Here, in the dark you’ve found the only person that seems to understand without even knowing.

You drag the pelts up over the both of you, clasp your hand over his where it rests beneath them, and fall into a haze of contentment. He draws you nearer, breath filtering through your hair from where his head lies just above your own.

The dreams that come are no longer of places you can not reach, but only of the memory of a city that was never meant to house your spirit.

You wake to König’s pawing. It begins along your sternum, hand placed flat there only to glide further up and push at your tit. It’s gentle and testing, pushes fire into your very veins when for the first time he doesn’t seem to remain entranced there. It drifts, further up to cup your jaw.

“You are awake?,” he rasps, propping himself up to inspect your face where you lie, weakened and warmed by sleep.

“Yes…”

“Are you still bereaved?,” König asks in such a hushed voice, reaching toward you again. His hand seems to tremble when it finds your face, thumb brushing over your mouth with such trepidation it seems misplaced for him.

“Partly.”

You consider your dreams again: the open street, devoid of people apart from those that face down at you with contempt building in hollow eye sockets. Where grass once sprung up beneath the cracks in the stones, there were only small flames. And you do still grieve for those that were innocent in the entire affair, those trampled by cattle when they had only just had a taste of escape. Your very mind begins to darken at the thoughts, your body only tensing further, a bowstring on the verge of snapping,

“Is that why I can not have you?”

“I never said…” Your voice only grows thin, detached almost from the way you purse your lips to kiss the digit toying with you. Your heart is only thunder, the sound of those wretched hooves: yearning was dangerous itself, your own only seemed to take further shape with each passing moment. Claws and a waiting maw, just like the wolves he speaks of.

König hums, a deep rumble from his chest as he gives a slow nod of acknowledgement.

It all becomes tree sap, a sticky confectionery bout. His mouth descends upon your own as though starved, hurried and longing as he samples you, the you who certainly yearned for the bathhouses to clean herself properly. All thought seems to dispel when his hand leaves your cheek and neck to begin its painfully slow descent between your legs, burrow between wax and honey to pull soft cries from your mouth.

He only stills his dismantling of you when you’re trembling and doughy, squeezing around his fingers so tightly you wonder how he can continue to bury them inside at all.

Just as the other gods, Sol is lost here when König crawls over you, all shadow and wretched, led here with the promise of a prey that you are not. Only another wolf… the flame in his winter eyes is the same that’s settled inside of you.

His head dips to kiss into your hair while your leg is pulled to settle over his hip. You feel a kiss, a different sort, when the pillar of his manhood reaches between your bodies to settle over your sex, probing at your slit that only seems to pulse and beg under his touch.

You had never found these silly metaphors enticing with the men of the city, even the entertainers with their pretty words could have never lured you this far down. Yet, here is different, here is cold and lonely and wild: a culmination of all that he is, incarnation of the earth and man and a desperate hunt.

“You are ready for me,” your god hums, pleased, as he coats himself in your arousal, sticky like warm sap. The sounds of his toying with you are something you should be accustomed to now, with him, but still makes your face warm. Not with shame, only a quiet desperation. “Beautiful little goddess...”

It’s summer here; winter tears its claws right out of your flesh when the sun itself sinks inside. The turning of seasons is natural, so dreadfully normal you’ve never bat an eye until you could physically feel it: the strip of your own apprehension tossed into a steaming sea, the dewy wetness all but drowning you entirely.

And it’s König who loses himself first, a sound so pitiful carving its way out of him you would almost believe him to be hurt if not for the way he throbs inside of you. He feeds it, a stuttering twitch of his hips as he slowly brings you toward him by your hips. Far too large to properly bottom out but encumbered and ecstatic by the sensation around him. Tighter than any sheath, but a weapon pushes through you all the same- inch by loving inch, until he manages to fully fill you with himself.

“I don’t want to hurt you, little one.“ Each word is torn from him, punctuated heavily by the shallow movement of his body and the drag of a demanding cock. Restraint is a peculiar thing hovering over him, his brow pinched as though forcing himself to concentrate on not ripping you apart where you lie.

“You’re not hurting me..,” you sigh as your hands find his shoulders, fingernails dimpling the skin there. If anything the urgency is only shared.

When your hips push back to meet him, the lead is dropped, another surrender. Too much trust for a man deserving of none of it.

His response is a breathy groan, mouth finding your shoulder as his hands drift to pull your hips upward to better meet him. Teeth find purchase along your flesh, gentle as he can be, but grinding and desperate to leave a mark, a piece of him behind.

It’s almost with a fury that he stuffs himself into you then, his jaw going slack and eyes wild, hands grasping at every inch of your pillowy flesh that he can reach.

Never could König have looked more beautiful than now, once starved and now tasked, for and now with you. His gaze trails from where your thighs tremble around him, to where the sap pools and nature builds up its own obscene choir at your togetherness… and then, to your face where his gaze only shatters into softness.

Something bubbles right against your lash line, a stray tear, overwhelmed by the feel of the giant ravishing you, pulling you down from your world of jewels and pillars to his own devoid of anything but need.

His head dips immediately, tongue running up the length of your cheek, a hand falling away to pry open your already parted thigh as he licks at and fucks into you like something truly feral. He coos his praises against your mouth, parted and whining, claims a new kingdom all for himself in you, of you.

You feel how the temples must, trodden through and left with gifts, blood and honey and fire as the muscles of your thighs begin to tense. Instinct spurs you to catch his lip between your teeth, push your hips back to laboriously furl around him.

His pace comes to a halt, settling to only grind himself so deeply within you that you feel the last of the stars begin to die out in the recesses of your skull, dim and dumbly smothered until they reignite in a blinding wave of white. König does not give you the time to settle, only spears into you with a renewed fervor as you cinch around him, furthering your rapture to a point that is almost agonizing.

He chases his own end with the same famished glare as before, stares right into your eyes as you pull iron from his lip and cast it into the fire of your waiting mouth. The sting, the bliss, only makes him whimper, a sound so small and choked its unfathomable to have come from a man who slams into you as though you were paid for.

You lick into his mouth in a way so tentative and fragile he immediately crashes down, blankets you in the strength of his arms and kisses you in turn: so soft and chaste it’s uncanny in this moment. His groan of defeat only comes when he stills fully, buried to the hilt, thrumming and shivering through his own release. Honey and seafoam, the rise of a tide touching earth to brim and spill past your joining.

He chases the feeling for several moments longer, bucking his hips sloppily as he lies atop your spent form, barely coherent when he mutters nonsensical praises into your hair, against your neck, the corner of your mouth- any place he can think to leave a kiss.

“… everything,” he mutters when he lies atop you fully, satisfied where he nestles his head into the fur below you both. “Everything I have ever wanted.”

The day passes on like this. Even as his men maneuver about camp, preparing to hunt or practice with their stolen weapons. The only thing König seems keen on doing is bringing you to ruin, repairing you with kisses pressed into your hair, along your cheek.

He leaves you only twice as the day drags onward. Once to gather you a meal of something meaty roasted over the fire, what remained of a boar, a gathering of dried fruit, and water from a small flask. You’re famished and exhausted by the thrill of being shoved down into the fur to tolerate him three times over already. The twinkle in his eye is nothing short of mischievous when you do finally tell him that you need to rest after eating.

After a bout of playfully shoving him away, you only find yourself on top of him, then. He seemed entirely unashamed, more hurried and desperate than before as he bucks at you like a wild horse, voicing his praises and spitting out such sugary sweet nonsense about how you would carry his son and only ever experience him, you almost felt shy. A curled finger hooks under your jaw to force you to look down at him, lose yourself in the vast, uneasy sea of his eyes while he floods you with his seed again. Finally, he seems sated, pulls you down to lie atop him.

König promises you that he will find your mother, that he will take care of you as no other has or ever could, while stroking along your back. He tells you of the mountains, the trees, the animals and the men who live amongst them and inside of them.

He tells you of the sea when you ask, how the sand is softer and sticks as if it never wants you to go. In turn, you tell him that he must be like the sea then, never fully parting from you, leaving his trace imprinted upon your skin with teeth rather than sand. A sea that loves instead of hungers, one that presses you onto your back to wash over you to steal the very breath from your chest and push it back with a kiss.

— — —

The wilderness is cruel. Wild things lurk in the brush and occasionally you pass by other settlements. Less friendly than the small band you have grown accustomed to. You’re always urged to shush, then have yourself tucked further against König while he speaks low and threatening to any would-be bandits. Only once has that resulted in a death, but not to one of König’s own. You didn’t watch when the man with the red hair carved a hole through the trespasser, just squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face into a waiting bicep.

Days pass on horseback, your legs feel stiff and clumsy, and there are no amount of pelts serving as makeshift saddles that could ever help the ache that shoots up from your pelvis. It serves no aid at all that, when riding ahead or too far behind the other men, König takes this newfound intimacy between you two to be a liberty. Regardless of your formation, he never ceases looking at you as though his only wish is to devour you whole.

Those times are often quick, palm pressed over your mouth as he dutifully breeds you beneath the sun, in the softest patch of withering wild grass or barren land available. You melt into him, part your legs like a wife rather than some skittish woman that he himself has whisked away. Each time, he whispers his praises, professes his love in more creative ways, covers you in so many kisses you feel a bit dazed by the time the ordeal is through.

Then, you’re righted back onto the horse with König at your back, the most horribly endearing smile plastered upon his face.

It’s not much of a surprise that his men do start their caterwauling at some point during the journey to wherever— past dormant trees and approaching the silhouettes of hills so tall and vast you’re certain that they must be the mountains you have heard of, even if you had yet to properly see them. König had made it perfectly clear just what you are to him in his coarse words to his companions, but never directly to you. They do not mock your union, but they do often give you strange looks, particularly at your tummy while they discuss you with their leader.

There’s nothing there, you’re sure of that much, but you shoot them your angriest glare anyway and raise your chin to look forward instead. Their talk of the possibility of a little “prinz” does not distract you from your own thoughts, drifting up to scrape the sky just like the peaks of the mountains.

“So that is where the gods live?,” you ask, mostly to yourself as you curl your fingers into the horse’s reins. There’s subdued laughter from either side of you, and you almost shrink at the thought of making a fool of yourself before these brutes. It wouldn’t be the last time, surely. You couldn’t even bring yourself to fully commit to the idea of there being any sort of vast and ethereal field awaiting you when you die anymore; it was already here before you, painted in the color of evergreen and winter blossoms.

König doesn’t laugh, at least. Only places his palm over the front of your neck and guides your head back to look up to him, gives a toothy grin when your eyes light up just from the sight. It was difficult not to when you’ve been fed and pleasured incessantly by him. You reason that your punishment for forsaking all that you once knew must assuredly be your own mind deteriorating to feel the way that you do.

“They are right here,” he says, so quiet and sweet, gesturing between the two of you. He had no interest in your former gods, of what he seems to view as stories for children, but he listens as you tell him the significance of such lofty places cloaked in fog, mist and trees.

His hand finds your cheek, savors in the feel of your skin against his thumb while you tell him of your misplaced belief in him being some son of a war god that he’s never even known, much less prayed to. He then reminds you of the woman he seems certain could have been your mother, says that surely she must have been wed to the shallow of a sparkling lake to birth something as lovely as you.

The men regroup after some time, stilling their horses and your rowdy mare still tethered behind one of the others to speak, access the distance from here and their destination while sipping wine from leather flasks and putting weapons back in their proper places. You listen on, picking up on the few words you did understand from their language, but ultimately gather nothing from it all.

“Where are you taking me?,” you hazard as you try to push yourself forward in a subtle reminder that yes, you were there too, and woman or not you had a right to know.

“Home,” König gruffs simply in response, gathering you back into his arms and taking the reins from your hands. His chin rests atop your head, the fingers of his free hand petting your side in an attempt to snuff out any further questioning. “You will like it.”

Home. Home to the place he had claimed you would find your mother; to foreign woods and wild downs, sprawling hills and little shacks covered in sticks and leather instead of the villas with their terracotta tiles.

You didn’t even know that you had a place to return to at all, not now. Your eyes catch his, though, and you know then just what it truly must feel like to belong someplace. Never had home been Gaius, reduced to smoldering ash in some divine reckoning, but it had always been with someone you truly believe you have wanted. Had you ever even been allowed to want before him..?

Your brow pinches as you shift to rest your head against the broad back behind you, held fast by the iron grip around your waist. The clouds drift by above, the sun casts a warmth over your face and you fall into comfort, into promise.

— — —

Barbarian settlements are strange.

There are no paved streets here crowded with people and decay, no hallowed and looming temples hungry and waiting for sacrifices. The columns are tree bark and very much alive with twisting limbs and growths of green that never seemed to dull even in the winter, not the stiff and lifeless marble you had grown accustomed to.

The homes are pieced together with wood, clay, anything that could be used with no clear rhyme or reason to their architecture. Goats wander about, bleating out for food or ramming into one another for play. The children don’t sit in houses studying or wander from stall to stall snatching and scurrying off, they play and work. There is a strange contentment here, too, something that feathers on the wind as it does the same on each face that you pass,

Everyone seems to have a place, a thing to be, and you feel like the world’s most delicate and forgotten pearl amidst these people who do not even seem to pay you any mind. If anything, they only seem pleased to see the man with his arm cloaked over your shoulders. They smile to him, greet him in their strange words and dip their heads as though he truly were some king.

Maybe he was, to them, to the wild people with no true reasoning to have any sort of monarchy. They barely had land to claim, much less rule over.

You’re not paraded around as a slave: he cups your jaw and lifts your head when your gaze falls to the dirt and dust below your feet, chides you in a rough whisper about how a Königin should present herself. The people do acknowledge you then, with looks of awe and offerings of dried flowers pressed into your palms and tucked behind your ear, Roman bronze dropped at your feet. You look the part of a proper queen too, when you flash them all your loveliest smile and nestle closer to your giant of flame and earth.

Thoughts of your past in the city come to mind when you note their lack of conveniences. Even the dread of forsaking your own gods briefly leaves you halting midstep before a firm hand urges you forward. König’s warmth comes as a comfort now more than ever when your thoughts do eventually circle back to a guilt, heavy and dreadful: the picture of Juno’s altar forgotten and burned away weeks of travel behind you.

“You will like it here,” he mumbles, trailing the same hand up to the back of your neck as he repeats the words he spoke only days prior on your journey. You could, you will, but it all feels so different that your pulse seems to triple its racing.

Your fingers graze over the dried flowers in your hand, sweet smelling as you trace over each petal to center yourself, take back that prideful smile that was in place just a moment ago.

If you’re to run amok, you may as well enjoy it.

You settle, regain your pace and that forced look of utter contentment at his side.

At least, until he begins to speak again.

“I will kill them all if you prefer we be alone,” König whispers into your ear, has the audacity to nip at your lobe, and does not even bother drawing back as if those words were meant to make you wet and pliant for him. All sense of reason must have left you entirely, because a shiver rips its way up each knob of your spine. “Would that please you?”

“No… Do not jest,” you grit out, staring only forward and not offering so much as a glance toward the beast at your side, even as his hand drifts down to palm at your breast.

“I am not.” He laughs, breathy and low when he finds your nipple already hard, thumb grazing over it as though this act of exhibitionism was as natural as any of the other things his madness compels him to do. “I will give you anything. Even blood, meine Göttin.”

Surely… you should be flattered that his loyalty is reserved only for you, but there’s no appeasement held in the glare that you shoot him as you pry his hand away from your chest. He gives you the look of a kicked stray then, even a pout so foreign on a face so scarred, you may have even chuckled if you were in better spirits, but he does relent. His hand drops back to his side and he detached from you after pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You’re led to a shack larger than the others, but more or less in the same state. It’s simple, built solidly with thick carved wood and packed to prevent weather seeping its way in. It’s humble in a way, far more humble than any ruler’s you’ve only imagined. A bench, a table, a mattress likely stolen away from some Roman soldier’s tent. There’s nothing particularly special about it, but it smells like König, like the trees and the earth in a way that is comforting.

It takes a moment for it to fully register that this is what he had meant by home, not the people and their affairs outside, only this place. Only him. A temple all your own that you imagine he must wish to fill with love and children and an abundance of gifts he may steal away all for you.

His men bring in what little of the supplies remained, stuffed away in a corner and voluntarily relinquished; even if it means they’ll be fending for themselves like the others in the village rather than feasting on stores, they only seem happy. The red-haired one even flashes you a contented look of admiration on his way out, as though you just being there was enough to soothe and patch some void here.

That may have been the case.

When the door is shut and all falls to silence, the barbarian king kneels before you. His hands find your hips, thumbs grinding gentle circles along them and further down to your thighs, your calves, to everywhere that aches. A gentle sort of worship that coaxes soft sighs and a buzzing of flesh from you.

König brings you to the mattress when your eyelids begin to flutter, exhaustion settling over you in full when you’re lifted and brought toward his chest. You could fall asleep in his hold alone, but you settle to only rest your head there and reach up along his vastness to rake your fingers through his wild hair.

Your voice tells him that you do like it here, with him, in this strange place circled by withering ferns and trees so infinite that you could never hope to find your way away without him taking your hand and navigating through. Your touch tells him the words that you dare not speak, a kiss to voice that you too would burn away everything if it only meant that you could share in this at his side, a mimicry of his massage along his own shoulder to whisper a great confession of adoration and boundless promises.

— — —

When the ferns and flowers begin to grow again throughout the spring and into the summer, you find yourself accustomed to everything. You aid the women in caring for their children, though you begrudgingly swear that it is not for practice whatsoever. The stitching and cooking that is done here feels far less harrowing— you do not put it off and leave it in a heap upon the floor as you would have in the city. There’s no looming dread of what’s to come when you perfect your work: you’re gifted only smiles, blessings and gifts.

Though the woman König had claimed to be your mother is not here, you ask him to recount the way she looked and spoke to you often on quiet nights, where his hands drift over you and his voice comes in a whisper. She may not have even existed at all, some lost spirit amidst the trees that wails and cries and leads men like him to their destinies. Your heart only tears when you begin to wonder if Juno herself had imparted such a quest to him. Save the lost woman that she favored so much, grant him some divine luck and intoxicating charm to ensure your safety and happiness.

He does not understand when you gather up honey and blossoms to pray over, but he does sit at your side and listen when you whisper your thanks to this new altar. Kisses the crown of your head when you’re through and lures you back into an embrace where he reminds you that he knew what he needed to do the moment that you met at the stream. No other woman could have swayed him the way that you have.

His offerings are only to you, even after such a length of time has passed. There’s no goddess that he kneels for other than the one that sleeps at his side and tells him of her dreams.

The day he gifts you his seax is one that resonates more than even the necklaces and gowns of silk and linen. It feels heavy in your hands, the blade almost as soft as gossamer when your fingers trail along it, though it does not yield. It’s only well polished and freshly sharpened. The handle bears a strange carving in it now, one of two wolves staring up at a broad moon. It breaks something inside to know that even he does find some things sacred: beasts, the glow of an untouched paradise and you.

“Why are you giving me this?,” you manage to whisper as your diligently ghost over the carvings in reverent repetition. “Don’t you need it? For hunting and fighting…”

“You like it?” It’s impossible not to notice the cocky expression on his face that tells you full well he’s recounting that experience. You liked it then, certainly, but it wasn’t as if you had any use for it in such a way when he kept you satisfied enough with himself.

“Yes… but it’s yours.”

He shrugs then, a great lift of his shoulders as you’re pulled to him with a careful grip to the wrist holding the weapon.

“Will keep you safe,” he huffs against your neck, leaving a kiss there when you sheath the seax at the strap you had also been gifted pulled taught along your hip.

You didn’t even know how to use the thing properly, and you were not quite fond of the idea of chasing down rabbits or puncturing another human with it. Your concerns fall on deaf ears when you’re led out into the surrounding forest to a thicket of wild raspberries. Your wrist is steadied by a firm hand as König diligently teaches you to carve away limbs heavy with fruit without actually bringing any real harm to the plant itself.

There are many things to forage this season, some you had never even heard of before he explains their significance to your wonder-filled face. You hadn’t thought him stupid, not truly, but it still comes as a surprise that he seems to know so very much.

When you find yourself seated beside a slow-moving stream, a ripe berry crushed between your teeth, you’re finally allowed to put your new blade away and set it aside on moss-covered stones.

“You should keep it close. A bear might want to eat you, hm?,” he playfully chides behind you, lifting your drab little gown up and over your head. As if to further his point, his teeth rake over your pulse, applying just enough pressure to draw a whine from your lips.

“You are not a bear,” you huff and turn to pull away his tunic, pressing a kiss over the scar he now dons just above his heart.

“Ja…” He lowers his head again to kiss along your neck, trailing a heat up to your ear as he maneuvers you into the water to bathe.

Your foraging and banter go forgotten, and a different sort of howling fills the air shrouded in tree limbs. There are no wolves or wind, only two so feverishly desperate and in love that any other with their dowries and arrangements would find it even more compelling than the Empire itself.

He sinks into you when you’re brought to your knees, bellows his contentment when he brushes your wet hair away from your face and dives forward to cover you fully, bury you in a world of love and sweetness. Even when the act is done, König does not pull away, only lies you back along to shore and tucks you further against him.

You remain chittering and laughing until the sky begins to reflect the very stars you see in his eyes, glittering constellations that seem to flicker and echo the steady beat of his own heart as you lie against his chest.

The summer wedding that the fortune-teller had once spoken of seemed to already take place here. There’s no need for a lectus or some grand display to reveal to others that you’ve united, it comes in the stillness and shared contentment when your voices begin to quiet, and at last you resign yourself to tell him that you belong to him just as much as he belongs to you.

The final flurry of surrender comes out as a soft whisper, one that only leaves you with your knees folded back to your chest and an insatiable giant hugging his gratitude and love into your ear with each graceless snap of his hips.

He drags you down to your own ruin, spells his own with haste and what comes as a twist between a dispatch of tears and a sigh. You can’t recall ever seeing him cry, not even now as he burrows against your neck and shakily breathes against your shoulder, muttering such nonsense about how he would still take you up and into the sky if only you would continue to let him stay with you like this.

“Always,” you murmur fondly, cradling him as closely as possible. Inside, outside, embedded into your very flesh you feel him near. He does not pull out from you this night, only falls asleep in your embrace, cloaks you from the breeze over the water with his own heat. You follow suit, petting at him as though he’s far smaller than his massive weight suggests. He shifts just enough to not fully crush you beneath him, just as you begin to drift off.

When morning does come, König is already stood at your side, staring off into the distance with an expression that only foretells of something you’re certain you will want no part in. He shushes you when you part your lips to speak, nervously scrounging up your gown and the strap holding your gifted weapon. There are no protests from you, and only the babbling of the stream and sounds of distant yelling break up the silence.

You don’t need to ask to know what’s occurring. Just as you had predicted before the Romans had come to dismantle the village just as they had many others before, take the women as slaves and force the children to learn and take up arms for their empire. You had never thought of the violence before when it occurred, when you saw the faces of those miserable women at the sides of people they could never afford to feel any fondness toward. You had always been lucky and blind.

König, however, must have only known wraith. His fingernails dig into his palms, nostrils flared and expression pensive.

“Wartet hier.”

He does not even hesitate as he begins to move, leaving you behind along the peaceful shore. As if to spur you forward, the shallow water rises to lap at your ankles, and still you do not budge. Your hands feel heavy, encumbered by the seax still set in its sheath, and only then does it dawn on you that König had not even had a weapon his person. What good would he even be without one? When so many men armed with sharpened swords and spears had come for his head…

Though fear creeps in, subdues your limbs with its stiffness, rakes fangs of pure ice along every pulsing vein held within you… you can not bring yourself to flee or stay put. You follow, quiet as a wood mouse as you walk along the forest with trembling hands clutching a weapon you almost hope is not too late to save your home, your heart.

There’s no clear trail, no sign of König, not even a shadow or a whisper that may belong to him. Instead there are shouts and the heavy smell of smoke. The gray billows up, more imposing than even the oaks and pines. The only comfort you will yourself to take is the fact that the words you can make out are Germanic, not Latin. Not all is lost, not yet.

You steel yourself and push your resolve to the forefront of your mind, creeping ever closer with careful but steps far more swift. You wind past throning brush and sprawling vine, past trees but familiar and not until you finally cross over from forest to the tall grass lining the edges of the village.

There lies chaos you expect, and that which you do not. Some of the cabins have gone up in flame, fire that coils and spreads to set your nerves alight with memory and dread. There are men fighting at the heart of it all, weapons slick with blood dripping down to the fallen at their feet. The women and children have all fled or have been taken captive, you couldn’t be certain amongst all that was already occurring around you and beyond. You couldn’t even count your enemies, a smaller army no doubt, the arrogance of the Empire knew no bounds. Twenty men to take down one was substantial enough when the others could be used for further conquests.

And there is no sign of König.

You feel numb when no matter where you look you can’t seem to catch sight of him, and how easy a task that should have been given his stature. The seax is pulled from its sheath when grief begins to settle, and the tears that threaten to spill are forced back with a grimace. There was still some hope, you knew. The village was not so small that you could map all of it from the small lump of a hill, but that desire to find him, bare your own teeth and fight at his side to protect what was yours brims up and chokes back the fear harbored in your chest.

Lady or wolf, you cared not. You would lose your titles just as he would if it came down to it. When the histories speak of how that city burned, how a king without a name brought the Empire to kneel if only for a moment before they sought revenge, you would be written in ink alongside it. A devotion so strong echoed in each page, as a barbarian queen that chose to keep her heart and lose her head.

But it doesn’t come to that. There’s another woman stood at König’s side when you do find him, wielding a stolen sword from one of the opposing soldiers as sweat and blood paint his face.

Unharmed and unknowing of the presence at his side, a mirage carved of smoke she was, his eyes stared out towards where the blade struck while her eyes only settled over you. Your breath catches when your gaze moves from König to her and you do find a resemblance: the way that her hair, the same color as your own frames her face, her frame, the way that her nose shapes, even the expression upon her face.

The mother he spoke of, the feral love and protectiveness outspoken and proud in her eyes. You do not recognize this woman, even amidst the cluster of sparse memories in your mind. Not until now had you ever seen her, but the feeling you’re gifted then… a roaring settling in your chest to extinguish all apprehension tells all.

As the last of the Romans is struck down by König himself, a blade sunk so deep into the other’s stomach as the other man spits out a gurgled wail, the woman only seems to fade out into nothing, replaced by the backdrop of the trees surrounding. Nothing left behind in the wake of the place she once walked apart from fallen soldiers and a trail of blood and König, safe as he could be.

When you come to him, teary-eyed and fretful, your roaming fingers do not catch on a single gash. The blood painted over his face, neck, chest is none of his own. He’s well, just as the other men from the village as they rush to snuff out the flames and clear away the bodies.

Though König pants heavily and his eyes are still wild, mind momentarily lost to the thrumming adrenaline in his veins, your touch seems to settle him greatly. The sword falls from his hands to clatter in the dust and muck, curling around you to pull you in. You think he should be angry that you hadn’t listened when he ordered you to stay, but he only seems as grateful as you to find his other half alive and longing still. Always.

You tell him of the woman as you sob into his chest, describe her and her vanishing as best you could in your own muffled voice. He grins, strokes your hair as though he truly believes every word even with how ridiculous it all sounds. There are things far more demanding to focus on now, and eventually you fall to silence as he holds you there.

Your home still stands, built just far enough off from the rest that its managed to avoid the battle entirely. Untouched, except from inside. The altar you had dedicated to Juno is gone, vanished just like the woman you had seen before. The scent of cinnamon hangs in the air, misplaced and unannounced, but a comfort all the same. You smile to yourself, bittersweet but comforting, with tears drying upon your face.

— — —

The village takes time to rebuild.

You lose time just as much as you lose sleep helping out with the endless tasks. König, thinking himself chivalrous, or perhaps hinting at what your future may entail if he continues to ravage you as though he would die without your warmth, never allows you to carry anything heavy. Even clay pots filled with water from the stream are swiftly taken from your hands. Gods forbid you even attempt to aid in cooking over the fires, either. He pulls you away with a hand clasped over your mouth and nose, delicately caressing your face and reminding you to be careful.

Something has changed. What you knew to be love before only seems to double with each passing day. He fusses and dotes over you endlessly, ensuring that you’re well fed, trailing behind you to bathe and it isn’t even just for the chance to sink into your cunt.

Often, he sits with you in his lap, guiding a wet cloth up to gently wash you, toys with your damp hair beneath his fingers, tells you stories of his own adventures and the people who traveled alongside him. Not of the hundred wives his men had boasted about him having, a ridiculous statement only meant to make you pine for him more than you already had, you supposed. He even tells you, sheepishly, that most women seemed afraid of him, but never you.

When you do make love, it’s an act of endless desperation. Along the bank of the stream, your shared bed, against any tree he deems fit enough to not budge beneath your shared weight, and even once in a field of wild blooms you two had found along a foraging trek. The floral aroma had kissed your skin each place he had, left you more doughy and sweet even as you took to conquer him, straddled over his hips with your head thrown back to the wind. You laughed with him when it was through, curled your hand beneath his chin to you with the rough feeling of his unshaven hair.

Everything— each new thing you learn and see with König as your guide only seems to melt away any wall you put up. Your life before only seems to fade from memory, that lonely bitterness consumed by the well of love he’s pushed you into.

When autumn comes and the trees begin to turn, each wealth of green faded and given way for yellow and red, your mare has finally become more docile and tame. You’re not even sure who to thank for it, for the way she struts about with giddy children on her back and doesn’t fuss when even you will yourself to settle over her saddle.

The saddle like all else in your life only seems softer, stitched together with leather, a cushion made of a rabbit’s pelt and stuffed full with straw and down so soft you don’t even dread the idea of the long ride to come.

The mountains, here, surrounding the valley and the village are wild and beautiful, still layered near to their peaks in abundant fields of late-blooming flowers. The stars still hang above, twinkling and glittering as if only to silently deliver their blessings for your coming journey. It is only the sea that you’ve yet to venture toward, the last on the list of honeyed promises König has made to you.

Your luggage is packed and spread between the two horses, your mare and his stallion. There are blankets and preserved food, light posts to set up a tent someplace a distance from the shore, even a pearl dangling from a thin chain that König dutifully places on your neck. It’s no exchange of rings, but you clutch the little gem tight as you will yourself not to cry. There was no need to be so sentimental not now, not after you’ve already shared so many moments far more tender.

The seax dangles at your hip, catching the glow of the sun above when you pull it free and polish it alongside König as he does with his pilfered sword. He shows you how to use a whetstone, delicately maneuvering your hand to sharpen the blade before dousing the thing in oil, makes you swear not to accidentally nick yourself when you’re inevitably dragged in the throes of some hunt at his side.

You’ve yet to use it for that purpose, but going alone means you’ve no choice but to offer your support… even with the knowledge that he wouldn’t actually allow you to do much at all, frustrating as that was.

When morning comes, you say your goodbyes to the village. You’re thrown flowers both pressed and new, petals latching to the fur of the pelt tied over your shoulders. König receives wine, far more useful than the delicate little blossoms that you brush away with shy smiles and glassy eyes.

The language is easier to understand now, when the others offer you great fortune on your travels, the women speaking greatly of your fertility despite the way it makes your nose scrunch in distaste. They call you Königin, only that, never any name you’ve offered for them to use. Perhaps even above the name the people of the city called you by it is more fitting.

You settle into the saddle with König atop his stallion next to you, reach for the reins when he flashes you a wary look, tells you that you will ride slow and he will keep you safe in case anything does happen to occur. You only think to remark the same, gesturing toward the weapon strapped to your hip, smirking when he snorts in amusement.

“Are you ready to depart?,” you ask him as you reach a hand out to trail along his arm, heart thumping wildly when his gaze only begins to further soften. You almost fear he may begin to cry, just as overwhelmed and sweetly pacified as you feel now. “We can stay a while longer if not.”

“Nein… we still need to plan for the stars after,” he whispers as he takes hold of your hand, interlocks your fingers and brushes against each knuckle with the pad of his thumb before bringing it toward his chest.

The moment is broken when the horses begin to huff in anticipation. You don’t get the chance to remind him that you still see each constellation he’s shown to you in the glimmer of his eyes, but you know well enough by now that he would only tell you the same in turn.

[dc418writes]

Welcomed Distraction

Summary🪄: Both you and Frankie need comforting after a tough day

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, happy adult fun times (be safe out there!), breeding kink, unprotected p-in-v, language, unclothed female-semi clothed male, mention of pregnancy/trying for baby

A/N🎤: Hello🌸 long time no see (*ahem sorry🥴) lol. So firstly, this is my very first Pedro boy fic and I’m v nervous (then again when am I not 🙃). Also, this is my submission for the #hotdilfsummerchallenge by @hellishjoel and I’m hoping you guys enjoy what I came up with, as well as read the other works (or even submit something yourself!✨)

*DISCLAIMER(S)!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they all were found via Pinterest. Although my works are typically imagined with a black!reader, everyone is welcome to read*

At the sound of your sigh as you locked the door behind you, Frankie knew what kind of day you had. Not to mention the way you took off your shoes.

If you gently toed them off next to the others, taking your sweet time, you were exhausted and would more than likely crash on the couch once you eventually sat down. Left them scattered making your own little trail from the door? You were excited about something. He was man enough to admit that although he knew you were very happy to see him, - flashing your bright smile before pecking his lips and updating him on what your day entailed - that excitement was mostly for his son. “How was your day huh?,” you’d ask the adorable eight month old making him giggle from all the kisses you’d leave on his juicy cheeks. “I missed you!”

When you’d kick off your shoes though, not caring when they’d knock against the wall - like you did tonight - you were pissed. And Frankie just hoped it wasn’t something he’d done or forgotten to do.

“Everything alright?,” he asks over his shoulder while he mutes the football game currently on tv.

“I secretly hope that place burns down overnight so I won’t have to step foot in it ever again.”

“So no,” Frankie states as you finally make it to the couch with a beer in hand. A much needed smile curls along your lips - and in turn loosens a bit of the tension still plaguing you from earlier - noticing the boxes of takeout from your favorite restaurant on the coffee table in front of him. Before you can say anything, his strong hands are gripping your hips guiding you towards his lap. Both sets of your lips automatically being drawn towards each other as you settle in your favorite seat.

Well second favorite.

“Francisco Morales I’d marry you right now if I could.” He only chuckles leaving a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Well, first it started with a couple calls from patients upset they needed to be seen before getting a refill. Like I’m sorry you haven’t shown up for your appointments in two years!” A grin spreads on his pink lips as he gently shakes his head of envy inducing chocolate curls.

“Then for a while now I’ve been getting calls when the phones are supposed to be on downtime. It’s also happened to the lady that sits next to me a couple times, so she decides to say something. My manager just says ‘well if you’ve given your extension out or if it’s transferred to you, then the phone’s gonna ring’.”

“But if the phones are down in the first place, either way that shouldn’t happen,” your boyfriend finishes practically reading your mind.

“Exactly! But nooo it has to be something I’m doing, it can’t be the shitty phone system.” Frankie knows you’re angry - and reasonably so- but he can’t help the way his stomach flutters at your cute little groan. How he wants to kiss that pout away until you can’t remember why you were mad in the first place. “Maybe he’ll listen to you since you have a penis.”

“Just tell me when and I’m there baby,” he murmurs against your neck trailing kisses from your pulse to your jaw. His mustache prickling your skin and making you softly giggle.

Even if you didn’t say, you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a little visit to the clinic within the coming week. Standard manners and gentle smile to everyone else as if he was just innocently coming by to see his girl when you both knew he was liable to strangle the slender, uptight man once he set his eyes on him at the mere mention of making you upset.

“Then, as the cherry on top, the last call I get today is this guy getting mad at me because his results aren’t ready, which I have no control over since I don’t work with that doctor,” you explain taking a quick pull from the sweating bottle in your hand. “I keep trying to tell him there’s nothing I can really do, but then he has the audacity to say ‘You’re not understanding me. I need this for another appointment and now I’m not sure if I’ll make it!’ Sir I understand fine; don’t insult my intelligence. Still won’t get you your results sooner.”

The stranger’s words and harsh tone repeats in your mind only making you upset all over again. And not only could Frankie see it, but he could feel the effect such a short interaction had on you. Your back practically going rigid with tightness and prompting him to rub soothing circles over your shirt trying to relax the muscles there. That vein near the pulse in your neck on full display as if standing in solidarity with you.

A stream of frustrated air leaves your nostrils trying to remind yourself that everything was in the past now. How tomorrow would be a new day with, hopefully, little to no rude patients. “Sorry, I know that’s probably my ego talking-,”

“Still doesn’t give him, or anybody else, the right to talk to you like that.” So two men he now needed to hunt down. No problem. “I’m sorry you had a rough day.”

You simply shrug - your attempt to brush it off feeling like you need to be strong and just forget - as his lips softly press against your temple. “Comes with the territory. How was your day though? Hopefully better than mine.”

“It was alright. Elaine came by with ‘hot shot’ to get Isaiah.” Hot shot being her new fiancé that was some fancy lawyer based out of Los Angeles. They met a few months after she broke up with Frankie and got engaged not long after.

“And how did that go?”

Now was Frankie’s turn to shrug taking the offered beer from your hand to get a pull. “Fine. Said hello, made sure she had everything, then left a few minutes later. Short and sweet.”

Although they’ve had this arrangement since baby Isaiah was just a couple months old, it always hurt Frankie having to let his son go. The apartment was uncomfortably quieter without the little babbles and gurgles, and no longer felt like home. Given he’d see him again next week, but he’d began to worry if his ex would move away now she was engaged. Wanting to start fresh with the ‘man of her dreams’ and start their own family.

And if that happened, who knows when he’d see his son again.

The thought’s kept him up plenty of nights unknown to you, but his solemn mood is easily read looking into his brown eyes. Your palm caresses his cheek bringing his attention back to you on his lap. Thumb softly tracing over the worry line between his brows before leaning in to tap your nose against his. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

Your boyfriend just nods flashing a glimpse of a soft smile. A quiet, “I know,” falling from his lips after pecking your full, bottom one.

“If it’d make you feel better, I’ll give you one.”

Any time you said that in the past, he’d just chuckle and shake his head. Maybe even click his tongue before he’d reply with, “let’s focus on this one for now.” It’s not that you were trying to give him a replacement kid, you just hated to see him sad. And similar to how Frankie was willing to do anything for you, you were easily as smitten for the former military pilot.

His larger hands - slightly rough from years of work - grip your hips gently moving you so your thighs now straddle his hips. A glint in his darkening eyes that surprises you, but also has a familiar sensation building between your legs. “You mean it?”

The husky way he whispers near your mouth has an embarrassing moan slipping past your lips that even catches you off guard. A wet patch growing in your panties already as you nod nearly dumb just from his voice alone.

His lips crash into yours rhythmically moving together as if one was complimenting the other. Your fingers tangle in his silky strands while his tongue glides over yours and hands knead at your lower cheeks. You can’t help but grind and shift trying to find some sort of friction as your core throbs incessantly.

“Frankie please,” you pant. His mouth descends to your heated neck nipping at your skin while his hand moves to toy with your achy nipple through your top.

“Have to tell me what you want baby.” He sounds nearly gone himself - hardness poking you through his jeans - but he chooses to tease instead. Any other time you might play back with a smart reply, maybe a little edging, but tonight your need is too strong and mind too hazy with lust and the man beneath you for games.

“N-Need you in me..now Frankie.”

A deep groan vibrates in his chest when you bump against the now prominent bulge becoming painful from the quick rush of blood. “Can’t say no to that now can I?”

In a flurry of movements, Frankie’s removing your scrubs and underwear between deep, hurried kisses, and soon you’re bare; quickly unlatching his buckle to remove his stiff and reddened member leaking and more than ready for you. The mess between your thighs makes it easy to slide down, taking him inch by inch until you’re both connected and moaning from the tightness.

“Fuck don’t think I’ll last,” Frankie grits shifting to taste one breast while his hand plucks and squeezes the other making you whimper. “Feels so good baby.”

Adjusted enough, your hips begin to move and bounce filling the living room with slaps of skin and moans. You try to contain yourself - worried about being that couple - but when Frankie plants his feet on the plush carpet below bucking up into you so hard you have to grab the armrest while your other hand grabs his broad shoulder, you can’t control what leaves your mouth.

“Wanna give me a baby huh? Want me to fill you up?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Want everybody to know you’re mine?” His grip on you is sure to leave bruises in the morning. “That I’m the only one that makes you feel this good?”

“Yes!” The faster you both move, you can see and feel stars. Feel hundreds, maybe thousands, of them tickle and prick your skin that have you believing you have to be experiencing something other worldly. Your spirit ascending to some sort of nirvana that you’d never want to come down from.

“Shit - might have to just keep you on my cock. You like that idea?,” he grins biting at your earlobe.

You frantically nod. “D-Don’t stop, please baby! Mm there..Frankie..Frankie!”

Gripping the back of your neck bringing you as close as he can, Frankie buries his face in your neck letting your noises and babbling spur him on. You’re both painfully close - panting and sticky with sweat - just needing that extra push only you could give each other.

“Shit, feel you squeezin’ me. Cmon let go I got you.” Shifting to the edge of the couch, he angles just right where your swollen nub gets the nudge and pressure that has your back arching and toes curling. You feel teeth and curses growled against your neck along with the spurts of his release inside you as his pumps become staggered and slower.

All that can be heard now is you both catching your breaths and holding onto each other as if afraid to somehow float away from the post orgasmic high.

“You okay? Still with me?,” Frankie asks tracing his thick fingers up and down your spine. You merely hum in response making the man you love chuckle. His pride loved how sleepy and clingy you got in the midst of your afterglow.

“Alright let’s get you cleaned up.”

His strong arms easily keep you attached to his sturdy chest as he stands ready to take you to the bathroom. Your nose automatically nuzzling and running along the side of his neck loving the smell of his cologne mixed with his sweat. “Wait!”

He halts just before stepping into the hall. “What’s wrong?”

“The food,” you sleepily reply making him grin kissing your shoulder.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“M’kay,” you yawn comfortably closing your eyes as you’re gently rocked from him beginning to move again. “Have a baby.”

He knew it wouldn’t happen that quickly, especially with you still actively on birth control, but the thought of you carrying his child had a warmth spreading along his bones. He could vividly see you with a hand on your extended belly smiling and glowing like the sweetest angel. Isaiah would nearly be two, but walking around keeping a close eye on his sibling.

Did it also make Frankie nervous? Of course, but he couldn’t lie that his excitement of seeing a bright eyed bundle that looked exactly like you outweighed the fear.

“Yea, we’re having a baby.”

-

Loosely inspired by the rough day I had at work some time ago🥲 lol. But again I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know if I missed any warnings!

[faerybella219]

First night at Gale's Tower

@desertharper 's request

Oh, I just read yours the other night on AO3, great job! Could I possibly get Gal and a female elven sorcerer Tav post-game the night they arrive home to his tower? NSFW/SFW, your choice. I just love post-game interactions for the good endings. :)

Fun fact: I play BG3 on Xbox and I started on my old Microsoft account. For some reason, I got logged out/ got “hacked?” and had to delete my account with 200+ hours… I was at the Netherbrain guys!!! So I haven’t finished the game yet but I also love domestic post-game fics. My Bard R! Durge, Vivienne, (who I have posted on here)  is my current run to the finish. In act 3 once again! Anyway, here ya go. It’s like half headcanon half fiction. 

It is still a shock to both of your systems that you’re actually alive. You have defeated the netherbrain against all odds- the old-fashioned way. With swords, spells, and sweat. 

First, we all know Gale’s need to impress you. I imagine him trying to plan a seamless moving day- maybe casting a protective spell over your furniture/ items while they’re being moved into his tower. I can also see him fretting about his various delicate magical artifacts, which the movers seem to disregard! Much to his surprise, might he add, since his mother had suggested this company! Although he likely skips the movers altogether and has his simulacrums move you two in. Some jobs are better done yourself. 

While his simulacrums bring in your boxes/chests of your belongings, they don’t unpack them. He respects your privacy and knows you may be particular about your things. 

I can see things happening quickly after his proposal. The day you move in may be the same day you see his tower (haha) in person for the first time- your new home. 

You can’t help but be overwhelmed by a feeling similar to deja vu. It’s surreal and sort of familiar. You’ve technically been here before. Gale brought you here through the weave while on the road, and you seem magnetically drawn to the balcony. You remember sitting on this very balcony in the weave. Waterdeep’s ocean glitters before you, and you get lost staring into the soothing waves. 

Gale puts his head on the top of yours. His hands rest on the railing on either side of you. He buries his nose in your hair and pulls you close to him from behind. It’s finally happening. It’s finally real. The peace you feel in this moment- hopeful, content, and unbelieving- it’s what makes your journey worth it. 

Turning around in his embrace, you hug him too tight and he makes a groan of strain and laughter. His classic old man noises. You could get used to those.  

Taking his face in your hands, you see joy brimming in his eyes. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell. Gale Dekarios- the wizard of intentionally limited renown is all yours for years to come.

He will likely insist unpacking can wait, it’s your first night together in your new home.

I have no doubt he will take you on a tour of the place, including special spaces he has saved for you/ your interests. You like to craft/crochet/sew? He has a craft room set up. What is his is yours. He knows you will handle his artifacts with care and if you are a sorcerer he will encourage you to bring yours and combine your collection. He has a section of his library saved for whatever literature you might want to add, and a section of what he recommends for you specifically- available for you to pick up at any time. 

Overenthusiastic is an understatement. But he tries to play it lighthearted to not overwhelm you. 

You cook dinner together in your new kitchen. You kiss in your new kitchen. He’s not a good dancer but is so overjoyed by you being here with him that he brings you close to sway. 

When it’s time for bed you notice he ordered a second nightstand for your side of the bed. In the drawer is something special and thoughtful, whether it's a chocolate you like or a book. Maybe it’s a solvent for some ailment that has been bothering you. He will remind you to put it on every night. 

I can see the night being with or without sex. I can picture him lying in bed and staring into your eyes, just treasuring your presence in his bed. There will be a thousand nights in the future for sex. Although, I can see the night needing a physical commemoration as well! It all depends on what your vibe is.

When you wake, you have tender good mornings with sleepy, rasping voices. He pulls you close, onto his chest as he praises the rest of your days together. He cooks you breakfast, and you two spend the rest of your second day unpacking your belongings and creating your shared home. 

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Pure passion and savoring each other. The sex is emotional and slow. 

Tonight marks the rest of your lives coexisting and living together. You’re having milestone sex. This is no quickie. This is body worship, treasuring each other’s lives, and pure love and devotion. 

You kiss until your lips feel plump, your tongues tangle until you’re wet. Only when you’re squirming does he move south.

Gale uses every kiss as a landmark. He kisses your forehead, cheeks, down your neck- his hands are grasping and caressing anywhere he can reach. 

His hold on you is strong. Hands grip your waist as he devours you. He doesn’t want it to end. He teases you until you beg for release, and once you orgasm you can’t stop. He doesn’t let you get away with less than 3 before the night ends. 

When he fucks you it's languid and deep. His hard cock drags against your walls in a pull so delicious it's torture. Slow tenderness eventually turns to rapid passion as he gives in to his desires. 

You two are moaning and crying out into the night air as he pounds into you. Your grip on him is tight as your mouths and hips move in synch. 

You wake up with little marks over your chest, although you never remember him being rough. 

[01zfan]

argue with you pt. 3

valedictorian!eunseok x debate leader!reader | 17.9k words

the long awaited part three. i hope the actually insane word count makes up for how long i kept you guys waiting heh. thank you again for 1k and that you for support the argue with you series. i love you guys so much. i hope you guys enjoy!

ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY EUNSEOKKKK

argue with you: one | two | three

contains: no content warning enjoyyyyy

you haven’t been the best leader of your team lately. in your defense, you may have been too hard on yourself. in fact, if you were to ask anyone on your team about your performance as a leader this season they would only say great things. besides the fact that you seemed distracted. it had gotten to the point that your team had exhausted every synonym of the word during the season.

when you’d mess up calling out events you were preoccupied. when you had to correct wrong information you gave to your teammates you were inattentive. when you would lose your footing and almost trip over nothing you were absentminded. it had gotten to the point that the only time you weren’t flustered was when you were debating. 

they didn’t blame you for seeming distracted. your team came to the conclusion all on their own that you were constantly thinking about your last competition season and how the stakes were raising with each win. they believed you were stressed and felt the pressure for your team to perform well. no one knew the real reason, why your mind seemed to be in a million places at once. when you weren’t debating you were thinking about your debate partner and what you two would do when you were alone. when calling out events you would see eunseok’s name written beside yours on the clipboard and lose track of your thoughts. 

at first your dirty mind would drift to what he looked like on top of you at the previous competitions when he’d sneak into your room after light’s out. you mind would force you to remember how foolishly adamant you were about not fucking in missionary. you thought about how once you started, you couldn’t go back. you lived for each competition not just to debate but also for what you knew was coming each night. either one of you would give your secret knock on the others door after the competition to be let in instantly. in the beginning you two would act only on carnal desires, taking off clothes and clashing teeth before stumbling onto the bed. you two barely spoke in the beginning besides teases and taunts, or the occasional that feels good and right there’s.

as the season progressed the air around you and eunseok changed. the desire was still there, in fact you believe it started to burn brighter than before. sometimes it felt like you were on the verge of combustion, especially when the sun would set on competition days and the anticipation started setting in. but as you started being around eunseok more and more you would see his name on the clipboard next to yours and think about how soft his hands always were and how he started looking at you with so much care. you starting thinking about how much eunseok was beside you at school now, walking you to your classes and sitting at your lunch table. he always made sure to get you the food you liked in line so you could get an extra serving.

when you tried to give pointers to your teammates you started thinking about how both you and eunseok started helping eachother in regards to debate. you would accidentally give your teammates tips that helped the enemy team while you recalled eunseok showing you how to sway the lay judges, teaching you how to convey confidence through your body language and tone. you learned then that eunseok was shyer than you. he was an extreme introvert who just so happened to have an aura people were drawn to. 

the same way he taught you, you gave him pointers on how to save an argument that seemed unsalvageable. it was run-of-the-mill stuff for you, but each tip you gave eunseok’s eyes would focus and he’d nod his head eagerly. it was the same head nod he’d give you in bed when you told him to touch you a certain way or the nod he’d give when you started losing your ability to speak. 

clumsiness wasn’t something that you struggled with before eunseok. but when he was close, you felt yourself tripping over nothing, foot catching on air or something that wasn’t there. eunseok was no better, sometimes stopping for no reason while passing by you. he let his head follow you down hallways and across stages, always stopping mid sentence. he left his friends wondering what he was looking at and your friends would joke that you wore shoes a size too big.

everything was easier when it was just sex with eunseok. you two had set rules aside, a shared google document with a million codewords that could not be cracked by the average person. it was written meticulously, never openly saying the word sex and posing the rules in debate format. it was excessive, but necessary for your peace of mind. your teammates and sponsors often asked for you to share documents with them and the thought of accidentally sharing a document with them that had the logistics of your sexual arrangement with eunseok made your heart drop. you even considered making a whole new email just for the document, but eunseok convinced you it wasn’t necessary. you both compromised by wording the rules in a way that would confuse anyone so immensely they wouldn’t even bother trying to decipher it. eunseok found himself reading the manifesto—the name he came up with—shaking his head as he tried to understand what you were writing on the other side of the screen. 

many rules on the manifesto were broken pretty early on. you two actually had to start writing in the margins to keep track of who was breaking which rules. 

eunseok was the one who broke the rule of no kissing. before you two hooked up for the second time, you made a point to stop his lips from touching yours. who broke the rule was decided after a heavy debate between the two of you. you argued that because you were the one who first denied kissing eunseok it made no sense that you were the one to blame for breaking the no kissing rule. eunseok argued that you only set the rule so it could be broken. he also made the point that no kissing wasn’t in writing when he kissed you. it was arguably a moment of weakness for him, lost in the moment when you emerged underneath the sheets after sucking him off. eunseok saw the spit in the corner of your mouth that you wiped away with the back of your hand, and the glassy look in your eyes that told him you pushed yourself a little past your limit just to make sure he felt good. you gravitated towards towards him like a dream and something came over him when his two hands pulled you in for a kiss. eunseok withheld the fact that you only hesitated a moment before kissing him back, and how quickly you took control while kissing him. you were riding his thigh while he pulled you in closer, and you started whining when he put his tongue in your mouth.

but whoever it was—it was eunseok—was long forgotten. because now you guys kissed without having sex, sneaking away to another storage closet or empty classroom to suck on eachother’s faces. eunseok always would pull away from your lips with a smile on his face one that told you he knew how happy you were that he broke the rule.

you’re able to admit that you were the one who broke the rule of no missionary. you still remember which debate it was. it was a day that challenged you as a leader and debater. everything seemed to go wrong—your team arrived late due to a pileup on the freeway, two of your teammates forgot their uniform, and you were going against the same team that beat you the year prior. you hated being frazzled by things you couldn’t control, unlike your debate partner that let the problems bead and fall from his body like rain. the circumstances and stress of the day made you a terrible debater. you stumbled over your words and rebuttals caught on the tip of your tongue. nothing helped when you saw a smirk on your enemy teams lips, knowing that you were lost. for the first since becoming a debater you felt like you were the worst in the room. you found yourself looking to eunseok in between the breaks. each time he gave you a look that urged you to relax you felt more tense. by the end of the debate you were completely leaning on him and were avoiding the looks of your teammates that had come to watch. 

you were shocked when you and eunseok won the debate. afterwards, you learned the two of you won by the skin of your teeth. you found out after the fact that extra points were rewarded due to eunseok’s confident body language and cracks he exposed in the enemy teams arguments. 

you felt like a shell of a leader when you stood beside eunseok to accept your medal. it was all the same to your team, a win was a win no matter how it was awarded. but you felt awful. it was the first time you failed so miserably, and the first time you didn’t take the lead during a debate. you smiled through the photos while you felt a rock forming in your throat. it unsettled you immensely, and it made you hyperaware that you could no longer have days where you didn’t perform like a future finals winner. you immediately took off your medal after the last camera flashed in your face. you disappeared from your celebrating team for the rest of the day, avoiding calls and texts about lunch and dinner. any selfishness you felt for hiding in your room boiled down to anger and shame for your terrible performance. you were stuck on an infinite loop, recalling the way you choked on your words and feeling the hot light from the stage beat down on you. the sweat rolling down your back made you uncomfortable as you failed at defending your argument. you planned on being completely alone to ruminate on your mistakes when eunseok showed up at your door. he was apologetic even though it wasn’t his fault with food in his hand even though he had already eaten.

the argument that followed eunseok coming to your room unannounced was inevitable. you don’t know why you were so angry, or why eunseok kept a cool head the entire time. you had tired yourself out thirty minutes later, the truth came to the surface after eunseok gave you a surprisingly warm hug. your combative nature that was fueled by your lackluster performance as a debater and leader was extinguished when eunseok started rubbing your back. you bit back tears, and anymore arguments melted in your throat while you slumped into eunseok’s arms.

eunseok then comforted you the only way you’d accept it at the time. he touched you gently where you needed it most and wherever you told him. he made sure you didn’t have to lift a finger, taking off your clothes with gentle and steady hands. yours were still shaking from the adrenaline when you laid down on the soft sheets of the hotel bed and kept pulling eunseok’s body up until he was hovering over you.

“can we do it like this tonight?” you asked him quietly. 

you could barely hold back your tears when eunseok nodded and caressed your face. you felt hot tears slide down your cheeks when eunseok kissed your forehead tenderly while he slid in. he was gasping at how you felt around him while you let out sounds of your own. he whispered in your ear about how great of a leader you were until you were a whimpering mess underneath him. eunseok was slow and deliberate the whole time, and held you close as you came. when he looked at you in the eyes and kissed the tracks of your tears you couldn’t stop the raw emotions from taking over your body. you held eunseok even closer while you cried from stress of the season and the conflicting emotions you were feeling for your fuck buddy. 

you two never spoke about that night but something changed again. you found yourself more distracted than ever before. it was dangerous how often you were thinking about eunseok even if he was right beside you. your mind often started thinking about holding his hand in public and kissing him outside of the bedroom. you would think about seeing him after the competition, and how missionary was your position of choice with him now. 

despite your mind being somewhere else all the time, it wasn’t an issue. no one was bothered by your aloofness as long as you were focused for the debates; and you were. you had led your team to the finals, only two people on your team didn’t advance. the achievement was unprecedented for your school and you were hailed as an exceptional leader for securing funding for future seasons. your wins showed the school board how successful the team can be.

the grant that was given to your team was something to celebrate. the school board came to your final debate meeting, congratulating everyone for a successful season. your teammates looked to you when they awarded the team a grant. the money would be used for better hotels, official uniforms, and better transportation. it was one of the biggest grants awarded in the history of your school, and it was a cause for celebration. that’s why you were hosting an all girls slumber party two days before the competition. it was convenient, being able to celebrate and do prep work with the girls on the team and then carpool to the school together to get to the buses. it was one of the few strokes of genius you had as leader as of late.

the girls on your team enjoyed it immensely, being able to chat and go over the highlights of the season. you tried to be as present in the moment as possible, talking and adding on to everything that was said. you were able to give advice to the first years on your team, and metaphorically pass the baton to them, emphasizing the new attention the debate team would have especially if you won the finals. your team nodded at you eagerly, like you were giving them the keys to life. it was hard to understand why your team looked at you with so much respect and admiration. if they knew about your sexcapades of the season—with the person everyone thought you hated nonetheless—you imagined all of their opinions would change. 

you successfully didn’t bring up your arrangement with eunseok, and how all consuming it was. you kept it to yourself, sneaking off once everyone was in bed to think about what to do. you felt creeping anxiety from the looming presence of the most important competition of your life being two days away. your sleep schedule was in such disarray that staying awake through the night was more plausible. you were also afraid of dreaming, scared that your subconscious would make you dream of a medal or a person just out of your reach. you knew you would end up sleeping on the long bus ride to the competition anyway. you convinced yourself it was because of the constant movement of the school bus that rocked you to sleep like a baby and not the presence of your debate partner next to you.

see you tomorrow.

sleep well.

you read the text as you opened up your fridge. eunseok was the one that broke the rule of texting you outside of your hours of operation—during competitions, priority after lights out. you can’t lie and say you weren’t humoring him, texting him back whenever you got the chance. your progression of texting had turned from sparse texts every now and then to full on conversations. you don’t know why some nights you ended up on the phone with eunseok, only talking about debate for a few minutes before going into mundane things. now you were at the point of eunseok telling you goodnight and how excited he was to see you tomorrow.

your eyes stayed locked on the message, rereading the text over and over again until your fridge yelled at you to close it. you still stared at your phone when you went to your dining room with your late night snack. when you looked up from your phone you saw yunjin.

yunjin came into your dining room, wrapped in her night robe. you were annoyed at yourself, not noticing or hearing yunjin come down the stairs. you truly were distracted.

yunjin and you stood underneath the fluorescent kitchen lighting waiting for the other to say something. you shuffled on your feet and yunjin crossed her arms

“okay. tell me.” she said

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you said.

yunjin laughed and gave you a dumbfounded look, amazed that you think she’s so stupid. she wordlessly makes her way across the kitchen and sits down with you at the table. you sat at the head, looking down at your hands and yunjin sat next to you, head in her palm while she waited for you to start. 

you took a deep breath, thinking about how you are going to have to write in the margins of your google document later owning up to the fact that you broke another rule. you look at your friend then immediately looking down at your hands again. you clenched your fists and closed your eyes.

“you should get it out before it effects your perfo—”

“i’ve been sleeping with eunseok.” you say quietly.

you swear you can hear yunjin hold her breath. you caught her mind sentence, and you could see the gears turning slowly in your friends mind as she tried to finish her thought and comprehend your words. you look up and see yunjin blink slowly as she processes what you said. she still has the same expression on her face as before.

”what?” yunjin asks.

“i’ve been sleeping with him since the season started.” you repeated.

this time the information sinks in. the same moment a weight lifts off your shoulders you can see it transfer to yunjins. she takes in a deep breath, one that takes in all the fresh air of the dining room. you’re forced to sit in silence and watch yunjin’s eyes go wide. you can see your friend thinking about the logistics of it all, finding the facts and thinking about evidence of fooling around. yunjin lets out the breath. she cracks a smile before looking at your dumbfounded face. it surprises you when she starts to laugh. yunjin’s whole body moves as she laughs, causing her robe to fall down her shoulder.

“i was not expecting that,” yunjin adjusts the sleeve of her robe before raising her eyebrows to emphasis the word that. ”i thought you were gonna say someone was getting cut from the team.” yunjin says.

she starts laughing a little louder, and you also smile at the situation. here you are, two days before the biggest debate of your life and you’re confessing to your teammate that you have been sleeping with someone who you treated like a rival for as long as you’ve known him. yunjin tries her best to wrap her head around you and eunseok, it makes perfect sense but at the same time it doesn’t. 

yunjin shakes her head trying to clear her thoughts.

“is that why you seem so distracted lately?” she asks.

you shrug your shoulders, bringing your eyes to your phone that rests on the edge of the table. eunseok’s text still remains unanswered, sitting in the graveyard of all your unanswered texts.

“i thought it was because of finals?” yunjin says.

“that too. i’m going through alot right now.” you laugh dryly, trying to brighten the situation.

“clearly.” yunjin says.

you let your friend process it even more and sit patiently. you know she’ll begin her cross examination soon.

”are you guys together?” yunjin asks.

you shake your head. 

“are you guys exclusive?” yunjin asks.

you nod your head.

“what are you going to do?” yunjin asks.

that is when you do nothing. it’s a complex question, one that can’t be answered with a nod or shake of your head. it surprisingly can’t be answered with words either, you’re speechless trying to think about what you’re going to do with eunseok when the season ends. you think about how you said to eunseok you’d date him if you won finals. back then, it was a joke and something you said to fill the awkward silence of trying to leave eunseok’s room before you were caught or got to comfortable. at the start of the season it seemed impossible to advance this far ahead. but now it felt like the painful conversation with eunseok was unavoidable. 

looks at her hands resting on the table, twiddling her thumbs before you see an evil smile come across her face. yunjin puts her head on top of her hands and looks at you innocently.

“is it big?” yunjin asks.

she’s facetious and expects you to withhold your answer. yunjin audibly gasps when you look down and smile after nodding your head.

“he knows how to use it too.” you say shyly.

yunjin gasps again and hits your arm playfully. she didn’t know this side of you existed, sneaking around with your debate partner. she asks you about the logistics and you share it all. it’s refreshing, finally being able to be somewhat open about your situation with eunseok. you show her the text messages and photos you ended up taking with eunseok during random moments of your time together. she raises her eyebrows when you insist none of the outings were dates. yunjin secretly hopes that you’ll eventually talk yourself into a hole, and she will be able to nail you with a question that makes you realize your arrangement with eunseok has turned into a relationship. you narrowly escape each of her attempts, pivoting when the conversation starts heading towards that direction.

you also spare yunjin some of the details, not subjecting her to the more intimate aspects of your relationship. you think you’ve said more than enough, and all is understood when you give yunjin the look when yunjin asks a racy question. by the time you’re done, you can see your friend understand your conflict. she brings her hand to rest on top of yours, rubbing the same spot you would mess with when the conversation got too serious.

“you know you’re the smartest person i know, right?” yunjin asked.

you lifted your head to look at yunjin. you shook your head the same way you did each time she told you that. yunjin only smiled before gripping your hand even tighter.

“you’re the smartest person i know. so stop being so stupid.” yunjin said.

when your jaw went slack, yunjin laughed and went back to lean into her chair. you looked at yunjin from your side of the table, feeling like her hand smacked you across the face. yunjin only shrugged, telling you that’s all she had for you.

“just focus on ending the season. everything else will come afterwards.” yunjin said.

you nodded your head and looked down again. suddenly there was a wave of shame again. you felt like curling into yourself, or grip your phone until it cracked. the loose ballast in your ceiling lights buzzed as you and yunjin sat in silence. your phone dinged again, echoing off the walls in the room. you looked to the lit up screen and then to yunjin’s raised eyebrows. 

everything else will come afterwards.

you repeated it like a mantra when you turned your ringer off. yunjin’s face remained neutral, following behind you as you headed back up the stairs. 

yunjin withheld what she truly wanted to say, that she had been covering your trail with eunseok like the good friend she was. each time the nosy freshmen tried to pry yunjin had an excuse locked and loaded for you. yunjin didn’t debate but she was cunning, something your team seemed to forget. so she had noticed the glances and the unnecessary touching and the tension no one else picked up on. yunjin had even caught eunseok walking out of your room. she played dumb, pretending she didn’t see him freeze like an deer caught in the headlights. yunjin instead fiddled with the vending machine for a second too long as eunseok backed into your room, closing the door silently to try and not draw her attention. yunjin will tell you about it one day, a day when you visible look like you can handle it. instead she has to play the role of the nurturing friend, putting a hand on your back as you drag your feet up the stairs.

when yunjin comforts you silently you try not to think about how you broke another rule—don’t tell anybody. it was bolded and in a larger font than everything else. you even had it in all caps on the manifesto, and you underlined to really get the point across. you try to comfort yourself by saying it doesn’t matter, your arrangement with eunseok will be null and void in a few days when the season comes to an end. 

the next morning came slowly. it was due to the fact that you were awake looking at your phone, waiting for the sun to rise so you could wake up your team at a reasonable time. while everyone else snored you used your phone as a distraction to occupy your mind. you kept pulling down your notifications tab, checking to see what eunseok was trying to text you. you refused to clear the notification, keeping it there as some sort of punishment. you had peaked at the notification for the millionth time when your alarm finally went off. 

you wasted no time getting your girls up. you let your obnoxious second alarm clock sound off and watched as more and more of your team were pulled from their blissful sleep. they were groggy, rolling over on eachother looking for the source of the noise. some of them were more stubborn, forcing you to jostle their limp bodies until they came back to the land of the living. 

once everyone was awake you went over the list of toiletries they’d need for the hotel stay and their debate materials needed for the competition. you heard disoriented words of confirmation as everyone loaded their things into your car. everyone was able to cram into two cars that had designated spaces in the staff parking lot. any leftover belongings and your vehicles would be safe and secure for the long weekend. it eased your mind as a leader to give a ride to your teammates, it made you feel less guilty about how irresponsible you were at the competitions. you were able act like the leader you once were by double checking everyones debate material and making sure that everyone arrived to the school on time. by the time your crew arrived to the bus pickup, the whole team was accounted for.

the rest of your team was in a huddle in front of the school. it was the designated meeting place for the early morning competitions. it was easy to leave from the front before the rest of the student body woke up and drove their cars to school. the autumn morning sun looked like it was coming straight from the pavement, blinding everyone as they searched for the bus in the empty parking lot. you blinked and held your free hand to your face, trying to block the sun.

“where’s the bus?” you asked.

the boys of your team turned towards you. they had been busy looking for the missing bus they didn’t see you approach them. your girls trailed behind you, their overnight bags and duffles slung over their shoulders. the weather had just started getting nippy from the approaching cold season, and the bitter looks on your teams faces told you they wanted to be inside of the bus to seek refuge from the weather. 

no one answered your question, even the chaperones that were whispering in their own separate huddle.

your team as a unit were decked in their most comfortable loungewear, sweatpants and sweaters that shielded everyone from the frigid air. some people found extra relief from the wind by throwing on a windbreaker. regardless, everyone acted the same by shuffling on their feet and trying to garner any amount of warmth.

when the whole team was together, the boys instantly merged with your group of girls. everyone greeted and hugged eachother in excitement, happy to get an excuse to miss classes. 

you found yourself feeling apprehensive, searching in the small crowd for a certain face. you looked around with furrowed eyebrows, head moving to try and look through the several mini conversations that was happening around you. you even got on your toes to do a headcount that kept coming up one person short. you looked to the group of chaperones that had separated themselves from the group of students. they were teeming with excitement too, looking towards the back of the school and whispering something along the lines of they have no idea.

you approached the group of parents calmly, adjusting the strap of your duffle bag.

“have you seen eunseok?” you asked your sponsor.

before your sponsor could answer, their faces lit up. at the same time you could hear the exclaim of your teammates, some of them even letting expletives slip out. you turned around immediately, having to adjust your eyes to the sun that shined in your face.

when you held your hand up to your eyes you got a clear view of the spectacle. you saw a mini-coach bus come around the back of the school towards your group. the bus pulled up to the curb, stopping right in front of your team. it was sleek and luxurious, the exact opposite of the dingy school buses you took to previous competitions. everyone was in disbelief until the bus opened its doors.

your team looked towards you, as if it was your doing. you had the same shocked and wide eye expression when you turned towards the chaperones. they had big smiles as they approached the bus.

“us and your co-captian pulled some strings for the final competition of the season.” your sponsor said.

before you could ask how, your team erupted in cheers. you don’t think they reacted this positively to anything the whole season. when it was announced your school would advance to finals, the blood left your teammates faces. they had blank expressions as your school was called out, no one cheered or made a single sound. you could’ve heard a pen drop in the room, the only sound coming from the sparse courteously claps from other schools. but now your team was hollering and jumping around, throwing their large duffles into the undercarriage storage so they could rush onto the bus.

the bus jostled slightly as people filed out. you had to tell your team to slow down to let the people off first and to not crowd the entrance. you were more stern than you should’ve been, their reaction for some reason left a terrible taste in your mouth. you understood the excitement regardless, this was the first time your team had been given such an amenity. the hotels was the bare minimum, and most of the funds for your overnights stays were crowdfunded by your team. this was the first time you had seen something so nice that didn’t come out of the pockets of your teammates.

you were staring at the door of the bus, strap of your backpack clenched in your hand when eunseok finally filed off. it caught you by surprise, seeing him come out in between the extra bus driver and the principal of your school. he waited in the folding doors of the bus for just a second until his eyes found yours. you smiled and lifted the hand that was holding the strap of your bag. it was weird waving hi to him, like you two didn’t know the other would be here. regardless, eunseok did the same and shyly lifted his hand in greeting. he forgot about the people behind him trying to get off and the people in front of him trying to get on. eunseok suddenly snapped his head backwards when the principal pointed forward. he hastily got off the bus, almost missing the space between the curb and the last step of the coach bus. 

eunseok floated through the crowd towards you. you were lucky that the exhilaration of the future competition and the luxurious accommodation occupied your teammates thoughts. they didn’t notice how eunseok approached you nervously, or how he stuck his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants when he realized he had nothing to say to you. you shifted in your slip-on shoes and adjusted the bags hanging off your shoulders. it was going to get painful soon carrying all of this weight.

“did you get my text?” eunseok asked.

he didn’t have a backpack on to grip nervously. he was forced to face the situation head on, looking at you right in the eyes. you think he would’ve ran his hand through his hair if he had the chance, but the strands were tucked into the beanie he wore. eunseok looked more comfortable than you did, sweatpants and a matching sweater with a jacket vest over it. 

you knew that eunseok knew you purposely ignored his text. after talking to yunjin you took her advice to try and ignore all of it, focusing on the competition you had tomorrow. eunseok was your debate partner before he was a distraction, but it was getting hard to distinguish the two. 

you nodded your head to his question, and he didn’t say anything else after. you let your confusion turn into anger about the bus situation. your mind quickly evaluated the situation, filling in the blanks to help you feel like your anger was valid. you had already felt like you were failing as a leader, eunseok had to have known by the way he comforted you. maybe eunseok purposely left you out of the loop because he knew you couldn’t handle being the leader anymore. you let the thought sink into your mind more. the irrational part of your brain overtook the rational side and you felt your fist clench at your side. you let your emotions run rampant for just a moment before trying to reel them in. it was no use, strong emotions bubbled in your chest that pulled you away from looking at eunseok.

the two of you stood side by side, silent as the rest of your team mingled and talked about the naps they were going to take on the way to the competition. you turned ever so often to see if eunseok was still beside you. he reached for the bag on your shoulder and you moved away from his hand. you saw yunjin looking back at you as she got on the bus, and you quickly looked away. eunseok noticed something between your glances and backed off immediately. he went on the bus behind anton, and you were left alone to put your things in the undercarriage. once everything was inside you took a moment, looking at your things resting beside eunseok’s. you took a deep breath and slammed the undercarriage closed before getting on the bus. 

when you got onto the bus, the chaperones filed in behind you. you took attendance call, reading the list of your teammates names. every name rolled off your tongue easily, until eunseok’s got caught in your thought. it was there like water that went down the wrong pipe. it was a second of hesitation covered up by a small cough but it felt like everyone knew something was up. your mind came up with the scenario that in under six hours yunjin told everyone on your team that you and eunseok had an arrangement of sorts. it made your eyes stay stuck on the attendance list and it made you tap your pen against the clipboard anxiously. your mind somehow turned it into another reason to be mad at eunseok. 

you sat next to him with your arms crossed as the principal gave your team the worst pep talk you’ve ever heard. your crossed arms tucked further into your chest as he spouted out nonsense. there was no way this was the same principal that gave speeches to the football team. your team clapped simply because it was over as the principal walked off the bus. the chaperones were confused as well, sitting in their seats as the bus driver pulled off from the curb.

the bus ride to the hotel was surprisingly smooth. this was due to the fact that you guys got an actual bus built for comfort as opposed to the school buses you took to previous competitions in the season. once you hit the open road it was soothing with the working air conditioner and screens that were embedded in the seat in front. you were out like a light once you put on your music. you think you went to sleep extra fast because it gave you a reason to not talk to eunseok. 

you don’t remember what you dreamed of, all you remember is that you woke up to him. just like he always had, eunseok lifted one side of your headphones once the bus came to a complete stop. you jolted awake, sitting upright from your resting position that had your head leaned on his shoulder.

“we’re here.” eunseok said gently.

he must’ve woken up recently too. eunseok spoke to you in the same groggy voice he had when he’d ask you not to leave his room. you don’t say anything to him, only stretch and stand in your seat to look at your team.

they get up slowly the same way you did, stretching in their comfortable seats and taking their headphones off their heads. they seem infinitely more comfortable as opposed to the stiff seats of the bus. no one complains about their back hurting, or how bumpy the ride was. everyone seems refreshed as your sponsor speaks first, coming back to the bus after leaving to the front office. she goes down the aisle handing out keycards with the numbers written on them.

“boys are staying in buildings across from the girls. dinner is waiting for you guys in your room. lights out is immediate.” she finishes handing out the keycards and stands in the front of the bus. “competition is early morning so try not to stay awake for too long. call if you need something.” your sponsor says.

you team is still waking up and grabbing their things from the overhead storage. the other chaperones file off and line up people’s things from the undercarriage storage on the paved parking lot. your sponsor looked to you, offering for you to speak but you politely shook your head. anything you said to your team would go in one ear and out the other—everyone was extremely exhausted. you didn’t have half a mind to speak, and you had an annoying crick in your neck that needed to be underneath the lukewarm water of your shower. you just sat back in your seat as the team filed off back to front. 

you and eunseok were the last ones off the bus. everyone was silent, moving slowly as they absentmindedly grabbed their things. people still yawned and stretched, while others talked about the weird layout of the buildings. the boys and girls buildings face eachother and are only separated by the small parking lot. the buildings could easily be mistaken for two separate hotels if there wasn’t another building at the end. the cool weather was becoming colder as the sun disappeared behind the building at the end of the parking lot.

you focused on the setting sun instead of eunseok who stood behind you like a shadow. he barely gave you any space and followed your every move. when he reached for his bag you prematurely leaped for yours, thinking he was trying to help you. 

the boys headed for their building while the girls went the opposite way. you don’t look back as you head for your room despite feeling eunseok’s eyes follow you as you crossed his path. you follow behind your group, keeping your eyes trained on everything but the world behind you. 

eunseok lingers only for a second before turning to walk to his room too. he turns back once he’s made it to his room to watch you struggle up the stairs. he sees the bottom floor hotel rooms illuminated inside, and the curtains either are drawn closed or are opened by the girls as they settle into their rooms. eunseok sees you find your room, then he sees you walk down the walkway to direct your lost teammates to the correct room. he watches your head go down to read the keycard before nodding your head. he sees you adjust the strap on your backpack, and how the heavy weight causes your body to lean as you get everyone into their rooms. he sees your room light up last only after everyone is safely inside their rooms.

eunseok keeps the number on your door at the forefront of his mind. he remembers the number as he eats his cold food, and when he’s in his cold shower. he remembers your room number as he checks the delivered messages on his phone, and he remembers your room number as he recalls the way you’ve been avoiding him all day. 

eunseok stares at the drawn curtains directly in front of him as he absentmindedly chews the gamy and cold chicken. he sits in near darkness, only thing illuminated the silver platter in front of him is the moonlight that seeps through the curtain and the dim glow from the hotel rooms across the parking lot. progressively more and more lights turn off across the way and the night begins to set in. by the time eunseok is done eating he can barely see the plate in front of him. he leans forward until the tips of his fingers grasp the corner of the curtains. his body nearly falls off the bed as he uses the last of his momentum to flick the curtain open. he sees your room light still on, calling him like a moth to a flame. 

eunseok sees the light in your room and he swears he can see your figure through the curtains as his fall back into place. he sits in the silence and darkness of his room for a moment, listening to the clock tick and the sheets ruffle underneath his body. it’s not long before he gets up to dress himself in all black and heads for his door.

eunseok knew that when your rooms were in separate buildings, it was more risky. more often than not, your rooms would be no further than the end of the corridor. on one occasion, your two rooms ended up being side by side, only separated by a corner in the hallway. eunseok ended up breaking a rule that night when he asked you to stay the night in his room, cuddled with him underneath his sheets. eunseok remembers seeing you write his name in the margins on the manifesto, then after a brief pause you put yours there too. 

following that, it got harder and harder for eunseok to not beg you to spend the night with him. once he discovered how pretty you were in the morning it was hard to live any other way. eunseok still believes he had the best sleep of his life that night with your chin tucked underneath his head as he held you close. eunseok found himself subconsciously keeping track of your breathing, matching his chest raises to your breath that would fan his chest. eunseok wondered if you struggled with not having him beside you at night, or if you sat on the edge of your bed hoping the distance of the two rooms would keep him away.

if he had any pride left, he would’ve avoided you completely due to how you were acting towards him all day. but eunseok is nothing if he’s not a man of his word. you two made a binding contract that eunseok planned to abide by. even if the feeling he got from you on the bus ride was strange, it wouldn’t deter him. this was possibly his second to last chance to ever be with you again—he’d be damned if a little walk across the parking lot kept him away from you. so eunseok put on black head to toe and left his room, carefully opening and closing the door so it wouldn’t make a sound.

you sat on the edge of your bed looking at the door. you had been pacing around since you got here, adjusting the temperature in the room a million times before settling for something that was a little too cold. when your body was finally tired, and your mind was drained from overthinking you let yourself try to relax on the couch. then you got up and moved to the bed—then to the couch again. you found yourself finding comfort based on your relationship to the door. it was a restless feeling that started in your feet and worked all the way up to your teeth that picked at your nails. the only thing that pulled you from your full body jitters was a quiet knock on your door.

your head instantly snapped towards the source of the sound, and your body froze. you still had the tip of your thumb pressed against your teeth when you heard the knock again. you stumbled over your pacing feet to get to the door. you pressed your hands against the wood, and put an unclosed eye to the peephole. 

you saw eunseok standing on the other side of the door. he stood there patiently, the opposite of you. when it was you knocking on eunseok’s door you were constantly looking to the side to see if anyone would come out paired with a million texts to eunseok’s phone. he was so patient it almost made you sick—like he knew you were going to let him in. you thought about leaving him out there in the cold. you could tell him the next day you went to sleep with the lights on, or that you were too busy focusing on the competition. but when eunseok looked at the peephole, it felt like he was looking right at you. your hand reached for the doorknob and before you knew it, eunseok was in your room again.

he stood next to your doorframe, moving out of the way so you could close the door. when it was just you and him, it was alot harder to ignore the elephant in the room. it was right next to eunseok when he sat on the couch and looked at you.

“why have you been avoiding me all day?” he asked.

eunseok’s superpower was confrontation. it used to be yours too, but when it came to eunseok it seemed to be your biggest weakness. when he brought up problems between the two of you with ease, it made your heartbeat too fast and it made your face too hot. you looked past eunseok to look at the thin pasty white curtains that hung behind him.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say. 

your words are anything but convincing. eunseok scoffs before leaning further into your couch. 

he makes himself at home in your space, moving his arms to rest on the back of the couch. he messes with the lamp on the table beside the couch, forcing you to stand by your bed in silence. the only thing you can hear is the machinery of the lamp click and you’re forced to stand there with your own thoughts. when the setting of your lamp is changed to the dimmest setting, eunseok looks at you again.

“do you want me to leave?” eunseok asks.

you can see him clearly, even if it is almost completely dark the hotel room. eunseok looks a little nervous himself, like he is expecting you to say no. but you haven’t been able to say no to him in a very long time. so you shake your head, still standing in the same spot on the carpeted floor of your room. 

eunseok’s arms fall from the back of the couch and go to his black sweatpants, mindlessly soothing out the ripples of fabric. when his hands reach his knees he brings them back up to rest on his thigh. he looks down at his pants only for a second before looking at you.

“want to come over here?” he asks.

when you nod, eunseok reaches a hand out to you. you try not to approach him too quickly, letting your hand fall into eunseok’s outstretched hand as you walk to stand in front of him.

when you stand in front of eunseok, he sits upright to bring his back away from the couch. he looks up to you, and you can see his eyes shine. even in the dimly lit space of the couch you can see how they scan your face for expressions as he brings his other hand to your body. one messes with the bottom of your shirt while his other hand wraps behind the back of your legs bringing you closer to him. when you’re pulled forward by his arm, you place your hands flat on your shoulder for stability. 

you let eunseok lift up your shirt and kiss the skin of your stomach. he looks up to you before placing each kiss, and you tilt your head back to stare at the popcorn ceiling of the room. you count each bump of the ceiling, and you can feel it coming closer to you the more eunseok sucks and kisses the skin of your stomach. when he presses teeth to your skin your whimper is quiet, and eunseok brings your closer by the back of your legs. he pulls away from your skin to blow cold air on the forming marks. 

he picked up the nasty habit of leaving hickies on your skin in places no one else could see. it was one of the few rules he abided by in the manifesto, and he took full advantage of it. his favorite place was on your hip bones and along the line of your waistband. it had gotten to the point he would just be leaving marks on top of already discolored skin. each time eunseok pulled away, he had a look of pride on his face. it was sick, but it was a perfect metaphor for your relationship. something only you two could see, but so easily exposed if you wanted it to be. you felt something similar to eunseok’s sick pride after eunseok would leave and you had the chance to examine the purple and deep crimson marks.

eunseok started to mess with the waistband of your pajama pants. you pulled your head from the ceiling to look down at him. eunseok was already looking up at you, messing with the waistband again until you got the hint. you nodded your head and helped eunseok pull your pants down your legs. when the loose fabric pooled at your ankles, and you stepped out of them. eunseok looked at your naked bottom half, and used his hand that played with the bottom of your shirt to run a line from your thigh to your heat. when you sighed and leaned further into him, eunseok grabbed a hand full of your ass. he spoke into your hot skin as he left a light bite on your stomach.

“take off your shirt, baby.” he said.

you obeyed immediately, taking your hands from his shoulders to take off your shirt. you took off your bra too, throwing it somewhere behind you. you let your hands go back to eunseok’s shoulder, and he reached a hand up to grab your chest. 

too many times did you end up completely naked for eunseok while he remained fully clothed. there was something people called men like him. it was a name you only let slip out a few times when everything got to be too much.

“are you nervous for tomorrow?” eunseok asked in between kisses.

your hand that grabbed eunseok’s hair the same way he grabbed your chest loosened. when you stopped your movements he did too, looking up at your with confusion.

“the competition?” you asked.

eunseok laughed before nodding and going back to kissing your skin. you continued to rub your hands through his hair, trying to think about what happens tomorrow. whether you win or lose, you had something arguably even more daunting waiting for you after the fact. you were going to have to talk with eunseok about whatever this was, if it was more than love bites or only two people acting on carnal desires. you two were going to have to make a decision to either continue seeing eachother or to let the moments you two shared end with the final competition. you don’t know what scared you more.

“i don’t want to think about that right now.” you said.

eunseok placed one last kiss right underneath your bellybutton, letting his bottom lip graze on your stomach as he looked up at you. you felt his index finger tease your clit before he brought two fingers between your folds. your hand that was on eunseok’s shoulder tightened.

“what do you want to think about?” eunseok teased.

you could feel his fingers prodding at your entrance. he was so close to being inside of you that you debated on grabbing his hand and doing it yourself. but eunseok knew what you wanted, he always has. so all you have to do is whimper and lean your head to the side before he pushes his fingers inside of you. 

“just keep going. please.” you sigh.

eunseok only hums before going back to sucking on the skin of your body and fingering you. it’s slow and deliberate, when he bends his fingers inside of you it causes your body to lean forward into him. your weight slowly pushes his body further and further back until he is leaning against the back of the couch with his face pressed into your stomach. eunseok uses his free hand to guide your legs to straddle his hips until you are on the couch with him. 

you let your body become pliable to eunseok. you let him guide you down to the couch without a second thought, driven purely by the building tension in the pit of your stomach. you wished it had remained like this through the entire season, none of the feelings get involved. but something about the way eunseok touches you feels better than meaningless sex. when eunseok lets his head rest on your chest you pet his head tenderly. the gentle touches and whimpers wouldn’t be possible if you two still only acted on carnal desires. you just wish you could have both without the feelings.

“so wet.” eunseok says.

his head still rests on your breasts as he continues to finger you. he’s off in is own world now, feeling your slick between his fingers. each time eunseok has the chance to lie with you he is distracted by how ready you always are for him. it distracts him so much that he almost doesn’t notice the way you preen your chest further into his face, trying to get him to suck on your sensitive nipples. 

“want me to suck on them?” he asks.

you nod and continue to pet his head. your pace increases as his hand inside of you increases too. he plays off of your pleasure and desperation, how you can barely speak when you get close. each time you have sex with eunseok it feels like years have passed since you’ve been touched. it makes you equal parts sensitive and whiny. you are a mess when eunseok looks up at you from the valley of your breasts with a grin.

eunseok takes your breast into his mouth. he lets his tongue peak out, laving the area that isn’t in his mouth. his mouth is wet and warm, and you can his smooth teeth graze your sensitive nipple. your lean over eunseok’s head from the sensation, holding onto him tightly as you try and hold yourself together. you don’t know why you’re so close so quickly, but you can already feel the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm.

“eunseok.” you quietly cry out.

“hmm?” he hums around your breast.

eunseok knew you were close. it was getting harder and harder to keep your thighs apart, and your hole was sucking in his fingers and clamping around them tightly. he had to keep your spread by a handful of your ass, and his fingers were thrusting into you with such speed it made your chest jump.

“i’m gonna cum.” you whine.

eunseok detaches from your breast. the cold air hitting your wet skin makes your nipples harden even further. your grip on eunseok’s shoulder is tight, and you have stopped petting his head to grab a handful of his hair.

“i got you.” eunseok says.

you let go of his hand to pitifully paw at the waistband of eunseok’s sweats. he pauses fingering you, shocked by how desperately you reach for his sweats. eunseok can feel himself throbbing against the thin fabric when you look at him with blown out eyes.

“take your dick out.” you say.

your voice is not nearly commanding as you wish it was. it’s still breathy and high-pitched as you come down from almost finishing. eunseok grabs a handful of your ass to lift both of you up slightly from the couch. it’s just enough for eunseok to push his sweats down for his dick to spring free. eunseok’s hard dick barely has enough time to slap against his stomach before you bring your body down to grind against it. he has to tuck the bottom of his shirt underneath his chin to get a better view of the way your hips move. he watches you in awe, alternating between where your bodies meet to your serene face. your eyes are hooded, and your bottom lip is pouted as you chase after something more. 

eunseok’s hands go to your hips, forcing you to slow down. you try but fail to overpower him, and your bottom lip juts out more as you whine in eunseok’s hold. he smirks, and places a quick kiss to your pout.

“you want my dick that bad?” eunseok taunts.

“so bad.” you answer.

in any other situation, you would’ve never given in to eunseok’s teasing. but through the time spent with him you realized that relinquishing control to eunseok is the rare occasion in your life where you don’t have to be in charge. with other people it would’ve caused panic and it always led to you taking a dominant role in the bedroom. but eunseok proved to you each time that he was more than capable of taking care of you and your needs. so you answer his taunts and react well to his teasing, because you know eunseok will give you what you want.

when eunseok’s damp hand holds on to your hip while he lines his dick up at your entrance, you shiver. your grip on eunseok’s shoulders loosen and tightens in anticipation. you can feel his hand let go of your hips and dig into the pocket of his pants before putting the foil packet in your hand. you rip open the package with shaky hands as eunseok keeps you suspended above his lap, only to the point where his tip barely pushes into your entrance. when you get the condom out of it’s packaging you drop it into eunseok’s hands. your walls flutter around what you can feel, and you put your head into the crook of eunseok’s neck to whimper quietly.

“please.” you whine.

eunseok hums empathetically while still holding your body in the same place. it isn’t until you sink your fingers into the skin of his shoulders and mutter something that felt foreign on your tongue. you thought it came from your lips abruptly and too rushed for eunseok to decipher. but he understood you perfectly, evident in the way he bit your shoulder before thrusting his hips upwards to you. 

you cried out loud, trying to muffle your voice in the balled up fabric of eunseok’s shirt. his pace doesn’t relent, so different from the way he fingered you at an achingly slow pace. now his hips come upwards earning a slapping sound of sweaty skin making contact with skin. you start letting your hips drop down in tandem with his thrusts, and you can feel eunseok deep inside of you each time you come down. you pant into eunseok’s neck, and he wraps a hand around your back to press your chest into his.

“you’re so tight.” eunseok grunts inbetween thrusts.

“you’re so big,” when eunseok hits that part deep inside of you, your hips falter ”so deep.” you whimper.

eunseok hums again, and his hand that wraps around your back goes to your shoulder to pull you from his neck. eunseok presses your forehead to his, looking deep into your eyes. when you hold eye contact eunseok’s fast pace changes to a slow and deliberate one, repeatedly hitting that spot with deep thrusts. it’s nearly painful, trying to hold back the pleasure that burns across your body. it started in the pit of your stomach and spread like wildfire. the way eunseok doesn’t relent causes you to sweat, even though you stopped attempting to do any work awhile ago. eunseok likes when he brings you to euphoria all on your own, your only job is to look at him with blown out pupils and to kiss him fervently. 

“i love you.” eunseok says.

your hands are on his face, running fingers over his cheekbones when he says it. you could easily say that the declaration slipped past his lips accidentally, or he meant to tack on a compliment about your body at the end like he has done many times before. but eunseok says he loves you and doesn’t stutter, only looking to you waiting for you to say something back. you can’t stop yourself from closing your eyes and dropping your head into his neck again.

“i’m going to cum.” you say back.

eunseok’s hips falter for a moment. he doesn’t pry, or bring your body back to look at him again when he finishes inside of the condom. he only pulls you closer so your chests touch, sticking together from the sweat.

“fuck.” eunseok sighs.

he only has to thrust up into you a few more times again before you have to bite the fabric of his shirt to muffle your moans. you clamp around his dick, and you can feel the fire project from your body to ignite your room. you hold on tight to eunseok, grinding your hips down on him even though your skin already kisses. you hips don’t stop swiveling until your out of breath and you slump against eunseok’s chest trying to catch your breath. he continues to gently rub and pat your back, soothing you back down to earth.

eunseok guides you off his lap to the empty spot on the couch next to him. you sat there, trying to catch your breath while eunseok started touching you again. he started with your legs that were draped over his legs. he started by running light fingers from your thigh to your knees, creeping higher and higher until your body twitched from the sensitivity. after you let out a sigh eunseok moved to your hands. you let him do it, while you tried to think about anything else. while you scanned your room a million times eunseok was busy changing the grip of his hold on your hand and playing with each individual finger. he continued to play with your hands as he cleared his throat to get your attention. you turned. your head that was pressed against the back of the couch turned to face him. he continued to look at your hand when you cleared your throat.

“i’m sorry.” you say quietly.

eunseok doesn’t heed your apology, only shakes his head like he is trying to clear his mind of what happened.

“i was thinking,” eunseok turned to look at you. “when we get back home, i was thinking we could go to that new mini golf place that opened.” he said.

you stopped letting your hand be so pliable. your hand stiffened in his, and your fingers became unbendable.

“the season is going to be over tomorrow.” you said.

eunseok nods. his hands move up to your bicep, running up and down your skin.

“you said if we make it to finals you would consider dating me.” eunseok laughed.

you could tell that he still had a playful attitude as he spoke. when you shook your head though, eunseok’s demeanor changed. his eyes got a little wider, and his hands stopped running up and down your skin. you felt the absence of his touch, and you could feel the air in the room change. it wasn’t warm anymore, and as the loud air conditioner unit kicked back on you felt goosebumps raise across your skin.

“i said that as a joke.” you said.

“well then it was a joke. but now, it feels like it might not be a joke anymore.” eunseok says.

when you sit beside him without saying anything, eunseok’s smile falters slightly.

“you don’t feel the same?” eunseok asks.

“i don’t like you.” you answer.

your attempt to sound lighthearted failed. it came out deadpan, completely void of all emotion. it wiped the smile from eunseok’s face. he detached his hands from your body, and you lifted your legs so he could lean over and pull his sweats back up. 

he got dressed without saying a word, pulling his black hoodie back on as you stared at him. 

”are you really upset with me?” you scoffed.

eunseok not sparing you a second glance made you realize what this was. this would be the second time you have had an actual fight with eunseok. before your arrangement with him it was usually just meaningless bickering, one trying to get on the others nerves. when eunseok would push your buttons back then you thought you were annoyed, but it paled in comparison of what it felt like to actually argue with him. he ignored you always to try and gather his own emotions, but it only made you lash out more to try and get a reaction from him.

“you knew that this was just sex from the beginning.” you said.

eunseok scoffed as he checked his pockets for the keycard to his room.

“you’re not going to speak to me?” you roll your eyes as eunseok continues to get ready to leave in silence. you get up to move behind him as he heads for your door. “you’re overreacting.” you say.

eunseok stops in his tracks and turns around to face you.

“why are you like this?” eunseok shakes his head from confusion before looking to you. “you make everything so complicated.” he says

eunseok putting all the blame on you has you denying your feelings even more. you regress back to the person you were with eunseok in the beginning of the season. you cross your arms in front of your body and tilt your head to the side. you don’t know how to reciprocate the feelings eunseok has for you, or how to comprehend the conflicting emotions you have felt for him for too long. but there’s an innate part of you that knows how to upset eunseok down to his soul. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say casually.

every single emotion was firing off in your mind, making your body hot and tense. the question was simple but it made adrenaline rush through your veins. you failed to calm yourself, only becoming more highstrung. no matter if you were angry or sad you always ended up fighting back tears, leaving you confused as to why you were so emotional. you argued with people for fun, why was it suddenly the hardest thing you had to do when it was with eunseok.

when you shrug your shoulders waiting fro a response, eunseok continues to look at you. his eyes search yours before he starts to speak.

“do you just feel nothing?” he asks.

you don’t let your mind contemplate for a second before you give him a knee jerk reaction of a response.

“of course not.” you said simply.

eunseok tried to remain calm with you the same way he did the first time you guys fought. that was different than now, he understood back then why you were bothered. but he didn’t know why you stood in front of him now, with a look of regret on your face as you said things you couldn’t take back. if you just admitted feelings it would be easier, it would feel less painful than everything did right now. but you stubbornly stood your ground, crossing your arms like a child. 

eunseok still felt everything for you when you acted this way towards him, but it didn’t stop it from hurting. seeing you actively deny the feelings you have for eachother caused his heart to sink a little further each time. 

suddenly, it like eunseok was drained of all his energy. his tense shoulders sagged and his clenched fists loosened at his sides. 

eunseok continued to move silently towards your door, and he could feel you still behind him.

“that’s it?” you ask.

the defeated tone in your voice almost makes eunseok turn around. but he is drained mentally, and he can no longer be the only one who lets his feelings be known. he also knows that if he turns around and sees your face, he will have no choice but to fold to you. so he says nothing, and only turns the door of your room quietly. he looks down at the floor by your feet, seeing one of your feet move forward like you are about to come to him.

“i’ll see you tomorrow.” eunseok says quietly.

eunseok closes the door behind him and your air conditioner turns off. now it is truly silent and you are truly alone. you stand there in the spot eunseok left you for hours, trying to think where you went wrong. you fall asleep on the same spot in the couch where you and eunseok laid together.

you completely missed your alarm for the next morning. you hear it going off on your phone in the center of your bed when you were woken up by frantic knocking. it brought you from your sleep immediately, making you shoot up from your uncomfortable position on the couch like a vampire. the pain in your neck followed a second later, and the soreness of your legs came after that. you’re mouth is dry as you look around the room trying to figure out where you are. you still have a headache from crying and you can see the outlines of your teammates as they stand on the other side of your window trying to peer in.

you only had a second to adjust to being awake before another series of knocks came to your door.

“i’ll have to come in if you don’t answer the door.” your sponsor yells on the other side.

you look at the clock near the bed. you are almost late, and you don’t have anything ready. realization hits you like another wave of pain to your neck as you come to. it’s the biggest competition of the season and you aren’t ready at all. your team is waiting for you. you are in this position because of what you did last night.

your hand pulls back the curtain so quickly it shocks your teammates on the other side. they end up leaping backwards, caught off guard by your sudden appearance.

“she’s alive!” you hear someone yell.

you don’t see anyone else after you make eye contact with eunseok. he looks at you only for a moment before casting his look somewhere else. you are stunned to silence, forgetting your voice as you let the curtain cover the window again. you fall over the edge of the couch trying to get to your debate uniform that’s neatly folded on your desk. you get dressed in a minute, and brush your teeth in three. you try to tidy up your hair, giving yourself the chance to fix during the ride to the competition. you trip over your feet as you pull on your socks and your shoes.

you answer the door with bleary eyes and a groggy voice. your team looks at you with wide eyes as you apologize profusely. you fix the uneven buttons on your uniform with all of your things haphazardly tucked underneath your arm. you follow behind our group, trying your best to ignore the worried glances they cast backwards to you. 

you let eunseok take the lead as co-captian for the morning. you used the word “let” loosely. you didn’t get the chance to clear your throat before eunseok was calling out who would be deabting and at what time. you were too embarrassed to take control of the situation. instead you looked at yourself in the camera of your phone while fixing your appearance. while you tried to compose yourself on the bus ride there, you heard eunseok give pointers to anyone who asked. you eavesdropped while eunseok gave the same talking points you gave to him. you tried to seem unbothered each time he looked at you, as if he was waiting for you to interrupt. you only continued to look at your notes, trying not to let the severity of the situation today get to you. you had to compete with everything you had inside of you with someone you were currently fighting with. 

you thought about yunjin’s advice, how she told you to save it until after the competition was over. it was entirely too late now, you were in the middle of dealing with it when your mini-bus turned into the parking lot of where the competition was being held. eunseok looked to you once before taking the lead again, handing out name badges as everyone filed off the bus. you were the last one to go down the seats. you let eunseok put the badge in your hand while you keep your eyes trained on the floor. 

eunseok puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes them gently, the same way he used to do at the beginning of the season. usually you would’ve swatted his hand away, but now you felt yourself yearning for any type of contact with him. so you only looked up, focusing on the way eunseok’s lips moved as he spoke to you.

“we will do well.“ he said simply.

before you could even nod, or open your mouth to thank him his hands were off of your shoulders. he walked past you in the parking lot and you trailed behind him, trying to put the lanyard underneath the collar of your shirt without tripping.

you and eunseok never left eachothers side the entire day, but you continued to punish the other with silence. it was ironic getting the silent treatment from eunseok when you only heard his words bounce through your head all day. they bounced around in your skull on repeat while you sat in the audience to watch eunchae and bahiyyih debate. eunseok and you both nodded at the same time when bahiyyih nailed the opposing team with her refutation and when eunchae projected her voice not just to the lay judges but to the audience as well. you were both beaming with excitement at the future of your team, smiles that were wiped off your faces when you both made eye contact.

eunseok telling you that you would do well was echoing in your mind as your breath caught in your throat outside the room you would be having your debate. you were in the same loop you were always stuck in before going into the room. pacing back and forth, using your fingernail to floss between your incisors. nothing brought you from your trance, not even eunseok looking at you with so much worry as he leaned against the wall. everything only made you feel worse, and you had to clear your mind by breathing in and out deeply. 

when the assistant to the judge came out, you turned to look at eunseok. he pushed himself up from the wall, and ran his steady hands down your arms. he blew warm air on your cold hands and rubbed them together to create warmth.

“don’t worry about anything else,” he put your unclenched hands back at your side. “you came here to debate. so lets do that.” he said reassuringly.

you nodded your head and licked your lips. for the second time that day, eunseok let go of you before you could tell him to keep touching you. he fell back right before going through the door, letting you take the lead. 

when you go through the door, the first thing you see are your opponents. they stand tall, and you know they have every reason to. their school has won the finals for the past three years. respect is such a ridiculous thing to talk about, especially when it’s in regards to kids your age who you have never met before. but you feel respect for the opposing team and how they stand tall. you come to the center of the two tables with the other teams leader while eunseok stands behind his chair. you shake hands with your opponent, reading the badge as you agree to debate fairly.

we will do well

eunseok’s words play again and again in your head when you sit at your seat. it finally causes the blaring sound in your ears to subside and your thoughts are streamlined and pieced well together. 

you barely remember debating—it comes and goes and only reappears in pieces. what you remember is looking back to your team in the crowd as they give you a big thumbs up, and how eunseok nods in his seat with confidence as you spoke. you go back to the tips that eunseok gave you, puffing your chest to convey confidence and almost talking smugly. 

when the debate is over, adrenaline has you on your feet for the rest of the day. you don’t come down until the sun does, and just when you think your nerves have settled the time to announce the winners comes. you are alone for the first time the whole day, eunseok is nowhere to be found. you are left to your own thoughts while you wander the halls of the university like a ghost. you aren’t pulled from your stupor when eunchae pulls your hand towards the auditorium.

you filed into a seat next to bahiyyih at the end of the row you intentionally left the row seat next to you open as you looked around for eunseok. people from the competitions were filing in, the auditorium would be full soon. the end of the competitions when they’d announce the awards were always your favorite because it gave you an excuse to look around for eunseok. you were able to hide your need to sit next to him under the guise of having to be next to your debate partner. you never spoke it out loud, but having eunseok next to you calmed your nerves that came with the anxiety of losing. usually you were fine, your skill in the debate room let you know you’d come out on top. you also admittedly enjoyed being the first person that saw eunseok’s face light up each time you were awarded a medal. he was always the first person you turned to, smiling ear to ear as you both got up from your seat. but now he was nowhere to be found and you felt like this was the time you needed him most. the trophy could go to anyone, the debate was evenly matched, sometimes the scale tipped in your favor and sometimes it tipped to theirs. you wanted nothing more than to have eunseok next to you telling you that you guys won. when he spoke about hypotheticals they always came to fruition. 

eunseok came and sat next to you quietly. it was so quiet you didn’t see him, still looking around the room waiting for him to come through the door. when eunseok shuffled in the seat next to you, you were prepared to tell whoever it was that the seat was for somebody else. 

when you turned to see eunseok you were unnerved by how he continued to look forward. he was unbothered by your presence, nearly ignoring it as you sat next to him. it made you even more anxious, getting the serious silent treatment from someone who was usually so playful. you only moved in your chair before clearing your throat, trying to look busy as you flipped through the program. eunseok was his usual self with everyone as they greeted him. you two had to put on fake cheery smiles, laughing along with people and thanking them when they complimented your debating skills. the moment it was just you two though, eunseok would go back to ignoring your existence. the silence made you go through your phone a million times, checking notifications that stayed the same and the weather app that remained unchanged. 

you were relieved when the lights in the auditorium went low and a spotlight shined on stage while the hosts and judges walked out. they came out in a line, holding trophies and a oversized check with no name written on it. you could hear your team surrounding you make interested noises at the check and the trophies. 

“that’s ours.” someone whispered.

“money money money.” someone else said.

your team held in giggles while the host of the competition started the rules and how the winner was calculated. everyone listened on the edge of their seats, waiting for the winners to be announced. you felt nerves of your own, picking at the frayed fabric of your debate uniform. it only got worse as the announcer started naming off categories. string pulled from the stitching of your skirt twirled in your hand, and the sound of it being plucked from the seam filled the tiny space between you and eunseok’s legs. he looked down for a moment to see where the sound was coming from. you instantly stopped, letting your hand rest on your thigh to soundlessly pick at your black tights.

“i’m sorry.” you said quickly.

eunseok looked back to the stage as they announced the debaters for independent events. he said nothing, but he brought his hand that was on the armrest down into the darkness past the seats. his hand settled there for a moment, completely gone in the void of the seats. you thought nothing of it until he brought his hand back up and gently placed it hand over yours. 

you stopped picking at your inky black tights immediately and turned to look at eunseok. his expression didn’t change, and he still looked ahead at the stage, but he gripped your hand a little tighter to let you know he meant it. you instantly squeezed back, letting your clammy shaking hands find comfort in eunseok’s steady hold. anxiety and bewilderment bubbled in your stomach, reaching all the way up to your chest. you tried looking forward at the stage to be nonchalant like eunseok, but your heart was beating so fast you thought it would explode. 

when each winner is announced, both you and eunseok linger to see who will take their hand away first to applaud. sometimes it’s you and other times it’s him, but each time your hands on instinct go back to holding eachother. 

you have a white knuckle grip on eunseok’s hand when the public forum debaters are called. you close your eyes when you hear your name, preparing to let go of eunseok’s hand when the winner is announced. you both only freeze and continue to hold hands when your name is called.

you didn’t expect to hear your two names come through the stage microphone. it took everyone on your team in surprise. you turned down the aisle mouth agape to see your teammates slack jawed too. you turned to eunseok whose wide eyes still looked ahead.

”are you two out there?” the host said jokingly.

yunjin started cheering first, and giselle leaned over bahiyyih to pinch your arm. when you smacked her hand away she pointed to the stage, motioning for you two to get up. you forgot that you had to go onstage, and you also forgot that you were still holding eunseok’s hand. when je got up first from his seat, and the commotion brought everyone’s eyes to focus on him. he held your hand still, so when he stood everyone on your team clearly saw your two hands clasped together. you heard the whispers again, but the blood rushing into your ears nulled every sound. you both looked down at your hands clasped together. eunseok hesitated for a second before letting go, and you quickly pulled your hand down to rest at your side. 

you felt like your face was on fire you followed him down the aisle of seats, with your head hanging as the rest of the auditorium began applauding as well. it started off scattered, but picked up when your team started cheering loudly. the tension in the room raised and the space between you and eunseok felt like a chasm. he let you ahead of him as you approached the stairs. his hand went to the small of your back like it always did when he was navigating through spaces, and you tried not to read too much into it. you instead focused on the sound of your school shoes on the hollow ground of the stage. you focused on not falling, and taking the gigantic check that was in the judges hand seamlessly.

you and eunseok remained onstage as they announced the rest of the winners. it was incredibly awkward, standing up there with a gigantic check in your hands with someone who was essentially your ex. while your sponsor took photos of you two standing on complete opposite ends of the check other debaters came up to you guys. they had nothing to say but praise for your teamwork and the first time win for your school. you and eunseok only nodded awkwardly, while thanking people profusely. your face was burning and eunseok’s ears had become beet red. by the end of it you were exhausted to the point of tears. when your team left the auditorium you handed off the check to your team, letting them take their own pictures with it.

the overstimulation from the awards ceremony made the resolve crumble, your stoic demeanor regarding eunseok was more obvious than ever. it also didn’t help that your team also saw you two holding hands in your seat. they pieced everything together over the course of dinner, some faster than others. by the time eunseok came to dinner everyone knew. it was silent as eunseok walked into the lobby. they watched as your eyes followed him the whole time, and eunseok not sparing you a glance. as fast as he was in he was out, and you watched him like a hawk the whole time. it angered you the same amount it worried you, and your whole team was intrigued. 

when eunseok left it was whispers and rumors for the rest of the night. you finished your food quickly after, cleaning up your area before heading to your own room. 

as you walk across the paved parking lot you look back to see eunseok’s room. it feels like it’s miles away. the curtains are drawn and the lights are off, unlike the other rooms of your teammates. you’re sure festivities will be happening all night celebrating the wins, but you would be heartbroken that the season was over. 

it was a creeping realization why it broke your heart so much. you loved debate, you always had. but you don’t know why you felt your stomach sink each time you thought about never coming to these competitions again. never seeing your team in this context hurt, the thought of this moment in time never being created again hurt even more. but you would have the chance to see them at school. you only bonded with everyone on your team this season, learning about them through long bus rides and lunch table talk. 

but you had gotten so close to eunseok over the time too, learning things about him that added depth to the character you thought he didn’t have. the thought of never being able to be with him again in private and in public made your steps falter and your breath catch in your throat. you looked at his room again, praying that the light would turn on and he’d open his door to call out to you. but the cold wind continued to nip at your face and freeze your hands tucked into your pockets. you look at eunseok’s door again, then you look to yours. your room for some reason seemed lonelier.

it was ironic that it was you nervously crossing the parking lot of the hotel now. you were clad in black the same way eunseok was, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible while you walked the moonlit path to his room. you wanted to turn around, to try and salvage whatever was left of your pride. you were a highly decorated debater and a leader that took your team to victory. but now here you were, pitifully walking across the parking lot as you came to terms with your feelings.

you must’ve went back and forth in the parking lot a million times, trying to decide what you really wanted to do. each step you took to eunseok’s room you thought about all your possible options. you could never talk to him again, never even look his way at school. it would’ve been easy. the season was over and you really had no reason to see him again. you wish you had the excuse of having a class with eunseok, because then you’d have a reason why you wanted to see him so badly. it was inexplicable why you needed him in your life, and why you only came to this conclusion after realizing the possibility that he wouldn’t be in it at all.

you let your train of thought run wild until you ended up in front of eunseok’s door. you were still, not moving your hand up to knock on the wood. you just stood there, waiting for yourself to gain the courage to knock. the skeptic in the back of your mind also told you it was time to prepare to be rejected. you held your breath as you formed a fist and knocked gently on the door.

you stood out there for what seemed like ages. you thought about how you left eunseok waiting outside your hotel room for even longer than this and felt guilty. with each second your heart dropped more and more, you don’t know why you would subject the man you like to waiting outside. you started losing hope quickly, that eunseok was being cruel to you in the way you deserved. you were being left out to dry the same way you left him—it was poetic truly. so you pitifully turned on your heel and started walking back across the parking lot to cry yourself to sleep.

before you left the shade of the platform above, eunseok opened his door. you turned back around instantly, trying to stop the smile from forming across your face. it was hard to remain happy as you took in eunseok’s serious expression. he only opened the door enough to see half of his face, and the short metal chain as an extra safety measure covered part of his face. the less you saw of him the more panicked you felt. eunseok always gave you everything, but now on the other side of this door you felt like a stranger. you wanted to reach through the crack in the door and touch him. he continued to look at you, the playful glint he usually had in his eyes were gone.

“what do you want?” eunseok asked.

he spoke at a normal volume, different from the usual hushed whispers. you looked down the row of doors in panic. someone could easily hear his voice if he kept that same volume.

“i came to apologize.” you said quietly.

eunseok looks at you for a second longer before closing the door. you continue to stand out in the cold, hearing the chain unhook on the other side of the door. eunseok a second later opens his door, inviting you to the warm yellow glow in his room. 

you smile at him as you walk into his room. you’re still met with eunseok’s expressionless face, and you want to continue walking to lock yourself in his bathroom as he closes the door and locks it. you sit on the edge of eunseok’s bed, putting an indent in the neatly folded sheets. eunseok still stands by his door, arms crossed as he looks at you. the warmth you felt in between the moments of intimacy was gone. eunseok made you feel like an intruder, and you started feeling a rock form in the bottom of your stomach. 

you’re silent for too long—eunseok tilts his head and raises his eyebrows to show you his impatience.

“i’m sorry for how i acted yesterday.” you said.

you rock back on your heels, taking out all the nerves you feel from looking at eunseok in his eyes. he stands with his hands in his pockets, repeating your apology in his head over and over again. after a moment he lets out a sigh and nods his head.

“i forgive you. and i did overreact—you were right.” eunseok rubs the back of his neck as he thinks back to his own actions “i can’t force you to like me. so we should end it here before we head back.”

you shake your head and take a step closer to eunseok.

“you only reacted like that because of what i said to you.” you reasoned.

“i still don’t like how i reacted.” eunseok says.

you nod to accept his apology. it gives you time to try and think of how to say the things you still need to say. your confession sits on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t put it eloqunetly like you imagined it. 

eusneok stands in front of you, with his hands moving in his pockets as you two stand in complete silence. you hear the door next door open, and you instinctively move out of the line of sight in the window. your movement puts you close to the door, so close that you could turn the knob and be outside in a few movements. eunseok looks past you to stare at his door, motioning towards it gently.

“the person next to me is random. he won’t know if you leave.” eunseok says casually.

his tone doesn’t tell you to leave, leaving it open to what you want to do. eunseok walks towards you, until he stands in front of you. you can smell the fresh soap on eunseok and see droplets from eunseok’s wet hair fall on on the carpet. when he’s close enough to take in a deep breath of him, and close your eyes.

“i like you,” you open your eyes to see eunseok already looking down at you. “i like you so much it kind of freaks me out” you say.

your confession floats in the cold silent air of eunseok’s room. it circles around your bodies like a string, pulling you closer and closer together as the words sink in. eunseok brings his hands from his pockets so squeeze both of yours. he works his way up from your hands to your elbows, then to your shoulders. your hands go to eunseok’s waist when his hands hold your face, rubbing his thumb along your features. a gentle hand tilts your chin up before eunseok brings you into a kiss. you close your eyes a second after he closes his, to make sure that this is real.

eunseok’s soft lips touch yours, and you press gently back. the way eunseok can’t stop running his hands over your body makes you think he’s not sure if this is real either. you both kiss back timid and gentle, the sound of pecks and chaste kisses fills the room. when you push back against eunseok’s lips a little rougher he pulls away. 

he runs his pink tongue over his slightly swollen lips before looking at yours. the lamp beside eunseok’s bed casts the shadow of his hands reaching for the bottom of your shift against the wall. you see your bodies move in realtime in your peripheral vision when you reach your arms for the ceiling.

eunseok helps you out of your sweatervest, tossing it behind you somewhere. he slowly undoes each button of your blouse while you start pulling eunseok’s shirt over his head. he has to hurry with the last button to take off his shirt the rest of the way, leaving you both in your bottoms and you in your bra.

he takes a step closer the undo the button of your slacks. the teeth of your zipper makes a quiet noise, but it’s heightened by the absence of sound in the room. you let the material pool at your ankles and eunseok does the same, both of you stepping out of your pants at the same time.

eunseok knows he has seen you naked before. he doesn’t know why it feels like the first time again, or why you look like a fallen angel in his room. your eyes are red from nearly crying as you look up at him, and your bottom lip is swollen from nervous bites. when the yellow glow of the dingy hotel room bounces off your skin, it makes you look too fragile to touch. his hands almost shake as you guide them to your back, letting them rest on the clasp of your bra. you let your hands rest on eunseok’s shoulder as he undoes the clasp on the second try. the elastic snaps forward, and your chest is free from the material. eunseok helps your arms out like you’re made of porcelain. he lets your bra drop onto the ground beside your pants.

eunseok brings you in for a kiss again, turning you around so he can guide you to his bed. when your back legs hit the edge he guides you down gently, leading you all the way until your pretty head rests between the pillows.

you can feel eunseok twitching against his boxers as he presses his dick against your clothed heat. your panties stick to your folds as eunseok continues to grind into you, and you can feel precum seeping through his underwear. eunseok trails kisses from your cheek to the crook of your neck, letting out a depraved groan when you wrap your legs around his waist and lift your hips up.

“remember the first time i fucked you like this?” eunseok asks.

eunseok kisses your forehead before putting a firm hand on your waist, keeping you in place. he leans back on his legs to be upright and a gentle hand pushes the waistband of your panties down. all you have to do is lift your ass off the bed slightly while eunseok guides your legs out of the holes. eunseok leaves a trail of kisses starting at your ankles that ends at the space right next to your lips before he’s hovering over you again. he takes off his underwear with much less care, and you use a cordinated foot to help him get his underwear off all the way.

you nod your head and wrap your legs around eunseok’s waist, not letting him get any further from you. you move your hips to close what little space there is between the two of you, and his hard dick presses against your entrance. it’s like it’s the first time again, the way eunseok looks to you for approval until you nod your head desperately. the space between your lips crackles with electricity as eunseok slowly pushes his dick inside of you. it’s delicate just like his touches, and he takes his time pushing in all the way.

eunseok slowly slided back out. you’re forced to keep your hips in place and take it all as eunseok continues to pepper kisses all over your face. he pushes back into you just as slow making you gasp and pull him close to you.

“i missed you too.” eunseok says.

“i’m sorry,” your words are caught in your throat when eunseok puts a delicate finger to your clit. “i’m so sorry.” you whine.

eunseok continues to kiss you. he stops rubbing your clit to press his finger to the sensitive bud. it makes you squirm undeerneath him, and he kisses your sleepy eyes.

“it’s okay, just don’t break my heart again alright?” eunseok says.

when he presses a little harder to your clit you arch your back, and eunseok wraps a hand behind you to bring you closer. 

“alright.” you whine.

you are the one that kisses him first this time. your hands bring eunseok’s face impossibly close to yours as you push your tongue past his lips. you taste everything, and you can feel eunseok’s warm tongue touch yours. you can barely get enough of him, only halting in your kisses when eunseok changes the motion of his fingers or thrusts into you roughly. your moans are eagerly swallowed by eunseok, and he starts ravaging you the same way you were doing to him.

“feels so good.” you say in between thrusts.

“i know. i know.” eunseok coos. 

he kisses the waterline of your eye, and you dig fingernails into eunseok’s back.

“i’m close.” you whimper.

“me too.” eunseok says back.

his voice starts to waiver on its own. his usual steady tone cracks, and you can hear his moans become more breathy as he increases the speed of his hips. 

you reach between your two bodies to pull his hand away from your clit to hold it. you squeeze his hand, trying to find an outlet for your orgasm so you can prolong feeling of eunseok’s hot puffs of air against your neck and him hitting that spot deep inside of you. eunseok still rests in the crook of your neck, nearly whimpering into your ear when you need to look at him.

“eunseok.” you whine.

he pulls away to look at you in the eyes. you move his bangs away from his eyes as his hips begin to stutter.

“i love you.” you say quietly.

eunseok pecks your lips before pulling away to look you back in your eyes.

“i love you too, baby.” eunseok grins.

he can’t get another word out before your body reacts to him. you pull eunseok close to you by pressing hands to his back and wrapping your legs around his waist. for the first time ever you overpower eunseok, and he lets you completely take charge. your walls seize around eunseok’s dick and you press your ass into the mattress to fuck yourself on eunseok’s dick. eunseok lets you overstimulate him while you reach your own peak. his moans turn into desperate whimpers while you continue to milk him. it isn’t until eunseok is nearly crying out your name that you orgasm yourself. eunseok wedges his hand between the mattress and your body to pull you into a hug, and you moan mixing curses and eunseok’s name while you came undone. 

you two lay in bed together for awhile. it takes you what seems like ages to stop twitching, where eunseok can touch you without you moaning from overstimulation.  you two talk about everything, giving the other a play by play from your individual perspectives. eunseok proudly informs you that he knew about his feelings after the first time you two had sex, and how he was waiting for you to realize your own feelings. you told him a story of your own, how scared you were to admit your feelings for no reason.

before it’s time for your team to depart, eunseok regrettably tells you that you have to go back to your room. he helps you back into your debate uniform, finding your undergarments and clothing items that are strewn across his room. he helps your sore legs through the black tights, and he laughs when the buttons on your blouse are uneven. he lends you his jacket before walking you across the parking lot to your own room. the sun started rising over the parking lot, illuminating your path in light blue and golds. the usual nip of the cold morning was manageable with eunseok’s hand clasped over yours, and you didn’t have to worry about tripping over potholes in the parking lot with his hand resting on your lower back. when you get to your door you kiss eunseok one last time. before closing it all the way, you open it again to give him one last peck on his lips.

“see you in a little bit.” eunseok says with a smile on his face.

“yeah. see you in a little.” you laugh.

when you finally close your door and eunseok finally leaves your stoop, you finish packing up. you change out of your rumpled debate uniform and take a quick shower. by the time you’re done getting ready for the long bus ride back, you get a knock on your door. you leave the person on the other side waiting for only a second before swinging the door open. 

eunseok turns away from the parking to look at you, smiling bright when you smiled right back at him. you let him grab your hand as you leave the awning of your hotel room. 

you two take the walk together back to the mini-bus, acting oblivious to the loud exclamation of your teammates as you admire your trophy.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Favorite Chapter 1

Summary:  Bucky Barnes, the big boss of the crime underworld, is notorious for his unhinged behavior and punishments.  There’s not much that can fully set him off, unless someone messes with his favorite…

Warnings:  violence, blood, gore, language, smut, depravity 

**Picture is A.I., found on Pinterest.  Don’t come for me.**

Next chapter

“Hey Boss, we got ‘em ready for ya,” Sam said as he walked into Bucky’s office.

Bucky looked up from his lap, giving Sam a wide smile.  “Finally,” he sighed, slapping his thighs before standing up and walking towards Sam.  “Did you call her?” he asked excitedly.

“She’s on her way,” Sam said with a smirk.

Bucky’s hands twitched then he cracked his knuckles quickly, his smile looking more worrisome by the second.  “Be cool, Sam,” he said as he walked past him toward the interrogation room.  Sam merely snorted as he followed close behind.  Bucky swung the doors open wide, making them bang against the wall loudly.  The two people tied to the chairs in the middle of the room jumped at the sound, then started trying to call out to Bucky, their voices muffled by the gags in their mouths.  Bucky started humming a tune as he danced toward them, ignoring their pleas as he whirled around and then pointed at his other best friend, Steve, who was waiting in the corner like a statue.  “What’s the song I’m humming?” he asked him.

“Sounds like ‘Come Fly With Me,’” Steve answered in a bored tone.

“That’s it!  ‘Come fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away!’” Bucky continued singing, dancing around the two people who watched him worriedly.  “‘If you can use some exotic booze, there’s a bar in far Bombay!’”  He turned to look at one of them.  “You look like you could use a stiff drink,” he said, gesturing to his busted cheek.  “I know I do.”  He walked over to the bar cart in the corner opposite from Steve, pouring himself a glass of liquor while whistling the same tune.  “Don’t mind me, gentlemen, I’m honestly just waiting for the life of the party to arrive,” he said, the excitement in his voice betraying him.  

One of them spat out the gag as best as he could.  “We told you everything we know!” he yelled, sounding panicked.  “Please let us go!”

“See, no, you didn’t, though,” Bucky shook his head and turned back to him with the glass in his hand, taking a small sip.  “Falcone is getting more brazen by the day, and you haven’t told me where his precious little family is,” he said matter of factly, walking up to him and then sitting in his lap.  “So let’s try this again the nice way.  Where’s the family?”

“I told your man over there,” he gestured to Steve, “I don’t know.  Falcone doesn’t share that with anybody except for his top guys.”

“Okay, then when did you last see the family?” Bucky asked, taking another drink.

The man shifted uncomfortably under Bucky.  “Two weeks ago, in passing.  They were being escorted to the cars after dinner.”

“Hm,” Bucky nodded, then held the glass up to his mouth.  “Cognac?”

The man frowned.  “No, thanks,” he said.

“Your loss,” Bucky shrugged, then the doors opened again with Sam pulling a large cart alongside a woman walking with him.  Bucky gasped loudly and scrambled off the man’s lap, nearly running up to her.  “My darling, baby, sweetheart, love-of-my-life,” he said proudly, embracing her and holding her tight.

“Hey Boss,” Y/N said seductively.

Bucky pulled away just enough to lean down and kiss her deeply.  The kiss was drawn out for too long, making Sam groan.  “Come on, Boss,” he said quietly.

“Fuck off, Sam,” Bucky said against her lips, then finally pulled away, kissing her nose before turning back around and pulling her toward the men.  “Gentlemen, our guest of honor,” he smiled widely, presenting her to them.  “This is my favorite, Y/N.”  Y/N smirked at them, and they each nodded towards her.  “Now, I understand why Falcone doesn’t share where his family is.  I don’t share where I hide my favorite, either.  Because if anyone found out she was my favorite, they’d use it against me, like I’m going to use Falcone’s family against him.”

The first man he was talking to frowned again.  “Then, why are you letting us meet her?”

Bucky’s smile twisted into something dark.  “Because she’s my fixer,” he said, his voice coming out more gravelly.  “As much as I love a good beating and can handle my own messes, this pretty little devilish thing here,” he said, reaching a hand around her until his hand wrapped around her throat possessively, “is an expert at torture.”  The men’s eyes widened in fear.  “I’ve seen plenty of gore in my lifetime, believe me, but I still get a bit squeamish, so she will be taking care of you two tonight.”

“No, wait,” the second man mumbled behind his gag.  “Please!  We can try to figure it out!”

“Mmh, sorry, no,” Bucky said distractedly, kissing along the side of Y/N’s face, his hand at her throat moving up to grip her jaw and making her head tilt so he could continue his kisses down her neck.  He nipped at her earlobe, making her giggle, before standing straight and stepping behind her, putting both of his hands on her shoulders and massaging them.  “You’re both useless to me.  And you’ve seen my favorite so…”  He kissed the top of Y/N’s head.  “Have fun, baby.”

She nodded before walking toward the cart Sam had brought in earlier.  It was covered by a large black velvet cloth that she pulled off with a flourish, revealing an array of silver tools on the first rack, on the second a collection of bottles with different colored liquids in each of them, and on the bottom gloves, garbage bags, and other cleaning supplies.  The men both stared at the tools with wide eyes, the first one starting to cry.

“And that’s our cue,” Bucky said, crooking his finger at Steve and Sam, who both wasted no time in already moving toward the door.  “Thank you for your time, gentlemen.  Hope you’ve made peace with your gods.  See you when you’re done, baby?”

“Yes, Boss,” Y/N said without looking at him, her tone coming out breathy and dreamy sounding as she gazed at her tools, slowly picking up what looked like a meat cleaver.  

Bucky smirked and waved at the men who were now begging him for mercy.  “Buh-bye, buh-bye,” he said exaggeratedly before shutting the doors soundly, muffling their cries.

As he turned to walk down the hallway with Sam and Steve, both looking antsy to get moving, he heard the first crack of a skull and smiled at the wailing screams that accompanied it.  Y/N would be busy for a few hours, so he had time to get everything set up for her afterwards.

Sam was holding his hands over his ears while Steve’s jaw tightened as they power walked towards Bucky’s office.  “What’s the plan now, Boss?” Steve asked.

“We wait,” Bucky said.  “Their spy thinks he’s sneaky, so we let him be in a few more small operations, Peter’s keeping an eye on him.  The scouts have tracked down his home base, now we just need to figure out which house holds the family.  But Nat found the daughter,” he said proudly, looking at Steve.

“Did she?” Steve asked, a rare smile cracking through his hard exterior.  

Bucky nodded.  “Cute thing.  We’re going to her dance recital next Friday night,” he said offhandedly.  “Scare the shit out of Falcone and let him know we’re close, closer than he expects.  He’s been tightening his ranks around the family, but it’s made him sloppy everywhere else.  So once he knows we’re everywhere, he’ll be paranoid and unable to trust anybody.”  He scoffed at the thought of it.  “Then when we know where they are, we’ll swoop in and seize it all.  End him and his line.”