#Best Vibrating Table Machine

[stellamarielu]

wanted to add a thought to this idea i posted the other day. instead of writing an official series i’m just gonna post little drabbles that exist in the same universe as they come to me, because pope cody with a reader who truly sees the best in him and is removed from the chaos of his world is so special to me…. also the slow burn of it all eats me alive i neeeed it

content: smut, voyeurism kinda, descriptions of masturbation (male & female)

Pope’s fixing something in your bathroom, the one directly across from your bedroom, and he can’t help but peek through the crack of the open door. He’s peering into your space, making note of the way your bed is still unmade from when you rolled out of it that morning. There’s a small pile of clothes on the floor; maybe dirty, or maybe just tossed to the side as you got dressed for the day. 

Then his eyes fall to your bedside table, or rather the apparatus attatched to a cord plugged into the wall— A vibrator. Charging. 

He looks at it for far too long. 

His feelings for you are real— deep. He kept them safe in the privacy of his thoughts, but the warmth that spreads throughout his body at the sound of your voice is impossible to ignore.

He’s had to fight the devil on his shoulder to even allow himself to admit the truth of how he feels for you in the quiet corners of his mind. He likes you. He has for weeks. But he hasn’t dared to think of you in this way— so blatantly sexual. 

It feels wrong, to objectify you like that, but in this moment, his mind can’t help but wander to when you last used the handheld device. Imagining you late last night with your hand between your legs, head thrown back on your pillows with the vibrator pressed against your clit, your body hidden underneath the sheets, half thrown off from the pleasure induced writhing of your limbs. 

What if you touched yourself that morning? What if, before he’d shown up to tweak the bathroom fan, you were chasing a release, racing against the clock to see if you could make yourself cum before he came over. 

What if you thought about him? 

What if you were imagining it was his mouth on your clit, sucking and swirling, not just some monotonous vibrations from a machine. 

No.

You wouldn’t be thinking of him in that way. 

Would you? 

Could it all be an attempt to get him to realize your harbored feelings; the meals prepared in an effort to get to know him, the countless times you gently grabbed his bicep during conversation to show him you were engaged, when you smiled with your eyes shimmering, looking at him like he’d hung the moon when in all reality he was just installing a ceiling fan. 

There was something in your gaze when it was fixed on him. He had taken it for remorse or pity, but maybe it was infatuation masked with compassion. 

He thinks back to that morning weeks ago, when he showed up at your front door with a black eye, you fed him breakfast and then insisted on taking care of his wounds.

He didn’t have the heart to tell you they were just scrapes— minor injuries that he could hardly even feel, and would forget about the next day. The way you looked at him— eyes swimming with worry and care— he would let you do whatever you wanted. 

So he sat at your kitchen island, letting you dab hydrogen peroxide on his cheekbone, and force an icepack into his hand for his eye.

He’d never been so close to you; so close that he could smell the laundry detergent lingering on the cotton of your t-shirt; so close that it was impossible to miss the way your eyes flickered down to his lips while your hand stayed on his face. It was a fleeting moment that played in stop motion, rippling through his mind as your lashes fluttered, peering down to his mouth and then back up.

Your gaze held that familiar haze of affectionate concern, and he held his breath, only releasing a silent exhale when you took a step back, organizing your first aid kit, and motioning to his injuries, telling him he needed to be more careful.

You didn’t think of him that way, or you would’ve kissed him in your kitchen that morning. Right? 

If you didn’t even want to kiss him, you sure as hell weren’t thinking about him while you pleasured yourself. 

He left your bedroom behind him as he walked down the hall, shaking the thoughts of you panting and moaning out of his head, with heavy blinks and quick footsteps.

But the imaginary noises of your pleasure echoed in his mind so loudly that he declined to stay for lunch, instead, going straight home to wash his unpure thoughts down the drain of a cold shower.

The startling temperature of the water did nothing to distract him from the visions of you slipping two fingers into yourself, his name whimpering from your lips.

It only spurred him on while he wrapped his fist around his cock, pumping furiously with his other hand bracing against the cool tile of the shower wall. His grunts and groans were hidden in the rush of water pouring from the shower head. He spills into nothing, wishing it was the soft warmth of your walls enveloping him as he comes down from his high, not his own calloused grip— ruthless and ashamed.

[gpcwsl]

Warnings: kissing?

Lia Wälti x Reader:

Title: A Game Of Hearts

MasterList

The café was bright and bustling, the hum of conversation blending with the whirr of an espresso machine. You sat across from Alessia and Kyra, your coffee cooling in front of you, untouched. Alessia’s laughter rang out as Kyra leaned in to whisper something to her, their private little bubble shutting you out again.

You shouldn’t feel bitter. Alessia was your best friend, and you were thrilled that she had found someone who made her so happy. But being the perpetual third wheel had a way of gnawing at your confidence.

“[Y/N],” Alessia said suddenly, pulling you from your thoughts. “You’ve been quiet. You okay?”

You forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

Kyra arched an eyebrow, her easygoing demeanor tinged with concern. “You sure? You’ve been working a lot lately.”

You shrugged. “Work’s work. Can’t exactly slack off, can I?”

Alessia exchanged a glance with Kyra, and you knew what was coming—a well-meaning but ultimately unhelpful attempt to dig deeper. You quickly deflected.

“So, how’s training going?” you asked, steering the conversation back to them.

Kyra launched into a story about their last scrimmage, Alessia chiming in with her usual enthusiasm. You nodded along, but their words blurred in your mind. You stirred your coffee absently, watching the foam dissolve into the liquid.

By the time you left the café, your chest felt heavy.

That evening, your phone buzzed with a text from Alessia.

Alessia: Hey, some of the team is going out tomorrow night. You should come!

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. The thought of spending another night feeling out of place wasn’t exactly appealing.

You: I don’t know… I’ll probably just stay in.

Her reply came almost instantly.

Alessia: Nope. You’re coming. Non-negotiable.

You sighed. Alessia had a way of dragging you out of your comfort zone, and you didn’t have the energy to argue.

You: Fine. What time?

Alessia: 7. Dress cute.

The bar was already packed when you arrived. Music thumped through the speakers, the bass vibrating in your chest. You spotted the team near the back, crowded around a long table.

“There you are!” Alessia called, waving you over.

You slid into the booth beside her, the faint smell of her perfume a comforting reminder of home. The rest of the team greeted you warmly, their energy infectious. But as the night wore on, you found yourself retreating into your shell.

It wasn’t intentional; you just didn’t know how to fit into the whirlwind of inside jokes and playful banter. Alessia and Kyra were glued to each other, and the others were too absorbed in their own conversations to notice your quiet withdrawal.

Until Lia Wälti appeared.

“You look like you could use some air,” she said, her voice cutting through the noise like a soft breeze.

You glanced up, surprised. She was standing beside you, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos around you.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked with a weak laugh.

She smiled, tilting her head toward the door. “Come on.”

Outside, the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain. The quiet was a welcome relief from the bar’s overwhelming noise.

“Thanks,” you said, shoving your hands into your pockets. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

Lia leaned against the wall, her dark eyes studying you. “You seemed a little… out of place in there.”

You shrugged. “I guess I’m not really the ‘night out’ type.”

“Neither am I,” she admitted. “But sometimes it’s good to step out of your comfort zone.”

You nodded, unsure how to respond. There was something about Lia—her presence was steady, grounding. She didn’t push for conversation, letting the silence settle comfortably between you.

When you returned to the table, something had shifted. Lia stayed close, occasionally drawing you into the group’s conversations, and for the first time that night, you felt like you belonged.

The following weeks were a blur of small moments. Lia would invite you to join her for lunch after training or sit with you during team gatherings, her quiet company becoming a constant in your life.

One afternoon, after a particularly exhausting training session, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the field, staring at the empty stands.

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Lia approaching, a bottle of water in her hand. She sat beside you, close enough that her shoulder brushed yours.

“Rough day?” she asked, offering you the water.

“Something like that,” you muttered, taking a sip.

Lia didn’t press, her gaze fixed on the horizon. After a long pause, she said, “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, you know.”

Her words caught you off guard. “What do you mean?”

She turned to face you, her expression soft but serious. “I mean, you have people who care about you. Let them in.”

You swallowed hard, her words striking a chord you hadn’t expected. “It’s not that simple.”

“Maybe not,” she said. “But it’s worth it.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt the walls around your heart begin to crack.

Lia’s idea of a break was a quiet afternoon at a park just outside the city. The two of you strolled along a winding path, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of bees.

“This place is beautiful,” you said, your voice hushed as if speaking too loudly would disrupt the tranquility.

“It’s my favorite spot,” Lia admitted. “Whenever I need to clear my head, I come here.”

You walked in silence for a while, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath your feet. Eventually, you reached a small pond, the water shimmering in the sunlight.

Lia sat on the grass, patting the spot beside her. You joined her, the warmth of the sun on your skin a stark contrast to the nervous flutter in your chest.

“Thank you,” you said after a while.

“For what?” she asked, turning to look at you.

“For this. For… everything.”

Her dark eyes searched yours, her expression unreadable. “You don’t have to thank me, [Y/N]. I’m happy you’re here.”

The air between you felt charged, as if something unspoken was lingering just out of reach. But neither of you acted on it, letting the moment pass.

The team’s weekend retreat was supposed to be a bonding experience, but for you, it was a chance to spend more time with Lia. Sharing a cabin with her was both thrilling and terrifying, every small interaction sending your heart racing.

One night, while the others gathered around a campfire, you stayed behind with Lia. The cabin was quiet, the only light coming from the crackling fireplace.

“I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for months,” you admitted, staring into the flames.

“Why?” Lia asked, her voice gentle.

“Because… I don’t know how to let go. How to stop feeling like I’m not enough.”

She reached out, her hand covering yours. The warmth of her touch sent a shiver through you.

“You are enough, [Y/N],” she said softly. “More than enough.”

You looked at her, your heart pounding. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but fear held you back. Instead, you squeezed her hand, hoping she understood what you couldn’t say.

It happened on a quiet afternoon at Lia’s apartment. You sat across from her, watching her laugh at something you said, and suddenly, you couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Lia,” you said, your voice trembling.

She looked up, her smile fading as she saw the seriousness in your expression.

“I… I think I’m falling for you,” you admitted, your heart hammering in your chest.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then she reached across the table, taking your hand in hers.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she said softly.

Relief flooded through you, and when she leaned in to kiss you, it felt like the world finally made sense.

The transition from friends to something more was seamless. Lia was patient and kind, her love quiet but unwavering. Alessia and Kyra teased you endlessly, but their support was a constant reminder of the family you’d found.

As you stood on the sidelines during a match, watching Lia lead the team with her steady presence, you couldn’t help but smile.

You weren’t just a third wheel anymore. You were part of something bigger—something beautiful.

And for the first time, you felt whole.

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Liz, Biotechnician

Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Vending Machine whirred softly as it produced the 5th candy bar in a row. It’d been a week since the science division had turned into a chocolate factory, but Liz wasn’t that worried. Coco didn’t have a chemical makeup that could be affected by diabetic amounts of sugar. The opposite, in fact, the little Sprygan was doing better than ever, and wasn’t so little anymore. Just like plants on Earth, botanical lifeforms needed glucose to grow, and apparently when given daily supplements of the stuff, their growth rate accelerated at frightening speeds.

Liz walked back to the lab, with a hearty Halloween’s worth of candy bars in her hands and pockets. Some crewmen gave her odd looks as she passed, but she paid them little mind. The door to the lab opened with a quick hiss.

“So we got milk, dark, white with macadamia nuts, and… what are you doing?”

Coco was standing in the center of the room, their new fuller branches seemingly vibrating. Liz thought they looked excited. The same Coco, who at the time when the mission began, was at best maybe 3 feet tall, now stood almost 5 1/2 feet in height and had a significantly thicker trunk. They were about as big as Liz was herself now, with a thicker canopy in the beginnings of bloom. They leaned in Liz’s direction, vines trembling.

“I just got a message from the bridge. There’s a uncharted planetoid in this system with a moon that might have breathable atmosphere, and they want a full ecological report written up.”

“So we’re going down there?”

“Correct! It’ll take 2 cycles to get there, but then it’s all ours!”

Liz was overjoyed! Finally, some actual field work instead of editing someone else’s papers all day. A whole new ecosystem with god knows how many new species… if it had atmosphere, of course.

Can’t get too excited yet girl, Liz thought.

“Does the moon have water?” She asked.

“Indeed.”

That’s a real good sign though, she figured.

“Can I have my chocolate now please?” Coco asked.

“Oh right, yeah, here you go,” Liz said, setting the bars on the table. Coco’s vines reached out and snatched them, taking them back into their canopy to be the plant equivalent of ‘digested’. The usual humming started up as they enjoyed their snacks. Liz wasn’t sure, but she thought she could see bark physically forming on their trunk now, or perhaps it was simply a discoloration.

“You’re sure this much sugar is good for you hon?” Liz asked, concern slowly winning out over scientific curiosity.

“The thing you call cocoa seeds are not plentiful on my planet, so I’m unsure if any Sprygan has ever had this much in such a short period of time, but I’ve never had so much energy before. My growth rate is miraculous, I’m almost completely out of my juvenile sapling stage now.”

“And that’s a… good thing?”

“Very. Saplings on my planet are the easier targets for predators. With a harder outer layer I’ll be much safer now. I’ve been composing a paper on this for days, it’ll be of great significance to Spryga.” Coco continued humming, ‘munching’ away on her candy bars.

“Well alright then, so long as you’re okay,” Liz said. “So tell me more about this moon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deep in the Antares System, hidden from scanners by the solar radiation of the tertiary star, was a desolate little rock burnt to a crisp by stellar winds during a flare eons ago. Its moon, however, was protected from the fire while in the shadow of the planet. And so it continued to turn, with barely a few degrees changed, undisturbed.

Until now.

The Noah entered the system from WARP, keeping a safe distance from the tertiary star in case of solar flares, and settled into a comfortable orbit around the planetoid to scout the surface of the nearby moon, now being called MX13.

From the Bridge, Liz and Coco read the initial scans from various probes launched when they’d arrived.

“Gravity reads…damn, big moon,” Liz said, surprised, “9.1, just a little under galactic and Earth standard.”

“Gas spectrometer reads as breathable atmosphere to 70% of known intelligent lifeforms,” Coco read on, “but not humans. You’ll have to wear a mask Human Liz.”

“What’s the chemical makeup like?” Liz asked.

“95% methane… similar to what you call Titan in your Terran home system. Without a mask you’d have a few minutes at best before you suffocated.”

“So yeah, rebreathers are fashionable this time of year,” Liz laughed. Even the idea of suffocating in a potentially hostile ecosystem wasn’t enough to bring her spirits down. It had been ages since she’d set foot on extraterrestrial soil.

“Ahem,” grunted Skitch, as much as a bipedal bug man could go ‘ahem’ with mandibles.

“What does fashionable mean?” Coco asked quietly.

“I’ll tell you later,” Liz whispered.

Captain Skitch had been waiting off to the side for a while now while they geeked out over the moon.

“Now then,” he said, arms behind his thorax stoically, “in six rels[?] [GAIL standard term: 1 rel approximately 1 earth hour(s)] we’re sending a shuttle down to the moon to conduct the requested ecological report. Our main objective is to see if there are any lifeforms, intelligent or otherwise, living there. If it is deemed uninhabited, we’re to declare whether or not it could become a potential colony for GAIL member races.”

Liz was almost painfully excited. Uncharted habitats, potentially establishing a colony, this is what she worked 6 years in the academy for, what she lived for.

“Sir, what are we supposed to do if we do come across any lifeforms down there?” She asked.

“You know the rules. On the off chance you come across anyone intelligent, you do not get involved, you do not get seen. We’re here to record the natural evolution of the universe, nothing more.”

“There’s very little chance of that,” Coco chimed in, “the first scans of the surface are being analyzed, there doesn’t seem to be any structure of any kind on the surface, so it’s unlikely we’ll come across any sentient species.”

“On the off chance you do have an encounter, I’m assigning commander Koatil to the landing party. She’ll be in charge of everything, and has my full authority to make any judgment call she sees fit.”

As if on cue, First officer Koatil made the bridge, her thermal suit fitted with extra armor for the expedition, hiding her powder blue fur. It seemed to Liz she’d freshly sharpened the horns on top of her head as well. She’d always figured they looked like rams horns, and thought how interesting it was that Doun women were the only ones with horns in their species.

“Good to meet you both,” Koatil said. “I’m sure this’ll go smoothly for all of us, just stick with the group and everything will be fine. Permission to depart, Captain?”

“Granted.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Noah’s shuttle bay was about the size of Liz’s old high school gymnasium, vaulted ceiling and wide open space, plenty of room for the three docked shuttles. Commander Koatil stood nearby, doing her final check as bay staff loaded the shuttle with cases of the scientific instruments they’d use to analyze the moon’s ecosystem.

Liz and Coco, along with the shuttle pilot and 2 other security personnel, stood ready to board at the commander’s say. She inspected the crew going down to the moon with them. The pilot seemed fine, even had two more arms to steer, so that was reassuring, but it was the security personnel that caught her attention. If Liz was seeing it right, the two were not on friendly terms with each other. The first one, an Indoprime, was standing at an awkward distance from the other guard, a Sed man. Neither spoke to the other, the Indoprime even slightly leaning away from the Sed, who stared straight ahead and said nothing. Both had plasma pistols on their belts, as well as upper armor over their uniforms. Liz was going to be severely disheartened if they messed up the ‘roadtrip’ she’d been waiting for.

Commander Koatil handed the pad to one of the crewmen and made her way to them at the shuttle.

“All aboard to MX13,” she said, resting her big paw on the pistol on her hip as she climbed in the door. The rest of them, Liz and Coco, the pilot, and the security personnel followed behind her. The door sealed shut behind them.

Liz took her seat, helping to secure Coco in theirs. The buckles weren’t well suited to thumbless species. She’d made sure the belts didn’t dislodge their own pistols from their holsters. Having a rogue plasma shot in here wouldn’t end well.

Buttons were pressed, dials turned, something that looked like a cup holder was pulled out of the dash, and the shuttle came to life.

“Shuttle Alpha, you are clear for departure.”

“Acknowledged,” replied the pilot.

The hangar doors opened, leaving behind the gas mesh, a thin blue wall of light to keep the air in the room from exploding into the void. Their shuttle passed through it easily, heading into open space.

“Haven’t seen this view for a while,” Liz said. Sure, of course there were windows on the ship, but it felt different in a shuttle. Like the void was just a hair’s width away from her now, waiting for her.

“My sensory receptors can’t make out anything but the shuttle,” Coco said, “could you describe it to me?” Coco’s leaves were shaking slightly, so Liz reached out and put a hand on their branch. The shaking calmed.

“Well first it’s just the sheer amount of stars,” Liz said quietly, “like a million points of light. There’s a nebula about 12,000 light years away off the port side that looks like butterfly wings if you squint… if you look at it right. Coco, I can’t express it right, the moon looks beautiful.”

“Human Liz, I’m jealous of you. Seeing in the visible spectrum must been so interesting.”

“Well what does the world around you look like? What do you perceive?”

“Well as you know, my branches have a sensory function to detect my surroundings, vibrations, light, even sensations in a way. But I don’t know how one would compare our two sensory experiences.”

“Your communicator is built into your brain isn’t it?” Liz asked. “Couldn’t it be adjusted to send sensory signals to your mind as well?”

“It’s possible, but the technology isn’t developed yet,” Coco explained. Liz looked at her a moment.

“Think we could fix that? I’d hate for my best friend to miss this view for their whole life.”

Coco didn’t say anything to that. She just listened as Liz described the universe around them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boosters fired.

Air brakes deployed.

Shuttle Alpha landed safely on the moon MX13.

The landing party filed out, and except for Coco, everyone decided against the worst case scenario and wore respirators. It wasn’t as bulky as Liz first thought, just a face mask with a line to a small air cleaner on her belt. Coco was the only one who didn’t need to breathe, so they were totally fine.

Stepping off the shuttle onto the moon’s surface, Liz was surprised at the vegetation around them. Muddy purple grass bed the ground, surrounded by rocky patches across the valley where they’d landed. Off in the distance were what appeared to be trees, thick branchless trunks growing straight up, splitting into angular canopies. Liz brought her camera up and snapped a photo.

“Alright, spread out but try to stay in sight of the shuttle,” Koatil said over their radios. “I know we’re setting g sensors pretty far out, so if anyone gets into trouble out there, launch a flare and we’ll come get you. Grite! You’re with the science team, go with them.”

The Sed man, Grite, looked almost pained at the idea of tagging along with Liz and the Sprygan.

“Aye, commander.”

“Think you can help us carry the sensors?” Liz asked, hoping to break the ice. She already had 2 bags strapped to her back and another slung over her shoulder. Coco was too small to carry anything.

“You can carry your own supplies,” growled Grite, keeping his distance from them.

What a dick, Liz thought, shouldering another bag on her other arm. The sensors she was carrying were heavy, but she was still in high spirits. Field work! Hurray!

They must’ve walked for over a mile, planting sensors every few hundred feet in ‘places of interest’, namely places Liz and Coco thought looked cool or had neat vegetation or rock formations. They’d made their way into a swampy area, heading towards a line of hills in the distance.

Coco went off a ways to plant a sensor by a small marshy cove they’d detected. Grite followed behind Liz, glaring every time she looked back. She didn’t know what she’d done to annoy him so much, she’d just met the guy, but maybe she’d done something or said something offensive by alien standards.

Whatever, don’t need him for this, Liz thought. This is a brain mission, not a buff rock guy mission.

“Human Liz,” Coco called over the radio, “there’s a rocky area here, with a subterranean tunnel system.”

“Cool, moon caves,” Liz laughed. “I’ll be right there with the another sensor, just wait for me, okay?”

“There are these round stones here half buried in the soil, at the entrance,” they continued.

That made Liz pause a moment.

“Just one or two, or are they in a kind of a pile?”

Static.

“Coco? Talk to me hon, pile or no pile?”

Static still. A few pips and pops, followed by a squeal of feedback noise. Liz’s blood ran cold.

“-uman Liz-… predator-… help-…”

“Grite launch the flare now!” Liz yelled, dropping the bags to the ground before breaking out in a sprint. She stomped and lunged through a few hundred yards of marsh, quick as she could, hitting solid earth at a dead run. The Sed was either behind her or he wasn’t, Liz couldn’t think about that in the moment. She had a pistol herself, and while she may have been the science geek on the ship, her dad had made sure she knew how to use it.

She cleared the marsh and crested a small ridge line, following the trudging trail of the little Sprygan. There she saw the scene, Coco on their side, massive claw marks raked up their trunk, and what looked like a cross between a mountain lion and a gator, long snout and mouth with jagged teeth and a ‘feline’ body, muscled and lithe with a forked tail. The thing’s back was covered in ridged scales, while its limbs were bare, wrapped in fur and old battle scars.

FUCK, Liz thought. She pulled her pistol and shot energized plasma directly at its head, but it barely even burned it. Whatever this thing was made of, its skin was fire proof. Her translator crackled in her ear.

“-human Liz…-?”

Liz didn’t hesitate any further. She leapt from the ridge, landing on the creature’s back. She took the butt of her pistol and started slamming it on the back of the thing’s head, over and over again, before the creature bucked her off.

Liz fell hard, hitting her head and mask on the ground with a sickening crack. Gas started venting fast, there was an inch long crack in her visor now, a whole chuck of it missing, falling somewhere in the dirt. Somewhere above her hair line she must’ve been cut on the rocks, because blood was dripping down into her left eye.

Dimly she was aware that she was already dead, if her mask was broken then there was no way to get back to the shuttle before she suffocated. But that being said, she was going to fuck up this monster trying to eat her best friend before making her grand exit.

What a way to go, huh Liz? she imagined in her father’s voice. He’d be smiling in a situation like this. Liz grabbed the side of her broken mask and ripped it off, throwing it at the creature as it crouched in front of her. She took in a deep breath of ‘air’, filling her lungs, and screamed. Her legs bent into a crouch, her back tensed, she tasted blood in her mouth. Adrenaline poured into her veins, dulling the pain, giving her strength and funneling rage into the center of her brain. She had one job now.

“COME ON THEN YOU FUCKER, LETS FUCKING GO!”

Liz charged the creature, firing bolts of burning plasma as she went, praying that dick Grite was somewhere nearby ready to get Coco out of there while it was busy mauling her to death.

The creature shrugged off the pistol fire, pouncing on her, pinning her to the rocky ground. Stones and the alien’s claws dug into her sides and back. It opened its jaws wide, and Liz realized it meant to eat her head. Fuck this thing.

“You hungry you big bastard?! EAT THIS!”

Liz worked her arm free, the one still holding a death grip on her plasma pistol, and shoved it down the creature’s throat. Its teeth tore into her arm, screaming pain ripped up her side, and Liz never stopped pulling the trigger. The smell of burning filled the air as the creature squealed and whined, its body going limp as bodily fluid poured out its mouth. She didn’t stop, emptying the clip into its blown out organs. Finally the thing was quiet.

Liz didn’t even bother trying to pull her arm out of the alien’s mouth, the thing was ruined, and she was dying anyway. Between blood loss and asphyxiation, her vision was already fading to little pin pricks. With the last shred of consciousness, she let out one more howl, screaming into the air, before everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth Collins didn’t remember what happened after that. All she knew was she was sore all over and weirdly cold, which would make sense if she was just a corpse, but why did she hear… was that ABBA?

Please not an eternity of pop music, she thought sluggishly. Anything but that.

She struggled, oddly weightless, and tried to open her eyes but found they’d been bandaged shut.

Oh good, I’m alive, people hardly ever bandage dead people.

What about mummies?

Shut up, me.

She reached a hand out and touched something smooth and solid. She tried to tap her knuckles against it, but only got one good rap at it before her hand hurt too much. Thankfully it seemed that’s all she needed.

“Human Liz, are you conscious? How do you feel? Are you in discomfort?”

Oh good, Coco was alive too.

“Wait, no, don’t try to speak right now, you’re in the regeneration pod right now, in nano surgery. I’ll be right here when it’s over, return to being unconscious please.”

Oh, okay, sleep sounded good anyway. Night night, Coco.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s gonna be twitchy for a few cycles until it adjusts to your neural pathways, but it should feel just like the old one soon.”

One of the other humans, a woman named Jane Shaw who worked in med bay, had sat down with her earlier that morning to go over her… condition.

“We had to replace the lining of your lungs with a prosthetic mesh to keep them working,” she’d said, “you were out in that methane air for a while. If it hadn’t been for your Sprygan friend feeding you oxygen from their branches, you never would’ve made it.”

“I don’t think even they knew they could do that,” Liz had forced a laugh, coughing a bit. “Now, about my arm?”

“Completely scrapped. Whatever stomach acid that creature had, it melted your arm down to the bone. Can’t repair what isn’t there, I’m afraid.”

“I understand. Thanks, Doc.”

Well ain’t that something? Liz was effectively 15, maybe 20, percent cybernetic now. She told herself she’d trick out her new arm with all sorts of cool gadgets, making every effort to distract herself from the fact that she lost her right fucking arm.

“On the plus side,” she said quietly to herself as she walked toward the lab, “got another new project too.”

The door hissed open. And there was Coco, still as a tree, which she guessed made sense. She could barely see the claw marks on their trunk now, but wished she couldn’t at all. She should’ve been faster.

“Human Liz?”

“What’s up hon, you miss me?”

It’d been three days since the landing party had come back with her bleeding out in the shuttle, three days since she’d gotten to relax in their shared lab. She tapped the new glass enclosure where the eggs they’d gathered were incubating, the sign on the side saying ‘these eggs cost an arm and a leg!’ Apparently Chief Ducane had gone down there to gather what equipment could be salvaged and decided they’d be worth something to the science team. Maybe he thought he was being funny, Liz didn’t know. She did chuckle a little. Just a little.

“Human Liz, you are… okay now, yes? The reconstruction…” Coco’s leaves were shaking.

“Come on Coco, you know me, I’m totally fine! See?” Liz held up her new chrome arm, the new metallic fingers twitching at odd angles.

“That’ll stop in a few cycles, Doctor Shaw said so.”

“Human Liz, why did you do that?” Coco stood stock still in the center of the lab.

“Do what hon?”

“Why did you risk your existence[?] [life] to help me? That is not what we do on Spryga.”

Liz blinked a few times.

“Well that sucks, you all just let people get knocked off there?”

“Yes, in order to maintain the bulk of the colony.”

“Well this isn’t Spryga, Coco, and you’re my friend, of course I was gonna come get you, you asked for my help!”

“I should not have!”

Liz sat down and took a breath. This would be weird and awkward for everyone in the room who wasn’t an egg.

“You asked for my help, and I’m sorry, but I give a shit about you, and yeah, it cost me an arm and some lungs, but I was going to save you. So can you relax about it now? I mean damn, you’re my best friend, I wasn’t gonna leave you out there!”

“I don’t know what that means!”

“Yeah you do. It means exactly what you think it does. That I’m coming to get you, whether you like it or not. We’ve only known each other three weeks on this boat, but you got yourself a very attached human who’ll make sure you live, got it?”

Coco was quiet a moment. Their branches started shaking again.

“I’m very very sorry you lost a branch[?] [limb] because of me,” they said quietly.

“It’s okay hon, I wasn’t mad at you about that. I’m just glad that Grite guy launched the flare so the shuttle could come get us.”

“Grite did not set off any flares,” Coco said, confused. “After you had killed the predator, I fired one into the sky before giving you oxygen from my leaves.”

Oh I’m gonna kill that guy with my new robo arm, Liz thought.

Back burner that for now.

“So yeah, hugs and kisses, make ups all around, love you too Coco,” Liz said, using her flesh hand to brush away the stale air between them. “You wanna help me trick out my arm? I was thinking a laser pointer and a universal remote control, what do you think?”

“I think you should be focused more on rehabilitation. From my research on lifeforms like humans, you require an extensive amount of time to recover from injuries this severe. It’s actually amazing, any other race would’ve been permanently incapacitated in similar situations.”

“Yeah, humans are weird huh? Perks of evolution on a deathworld like Earth.” She tried laughing again, dissolving into a coughing fit. Coco stood watching her. Liz could feel concern mixed with just a hint of judgment.

“Okay, yeah, I got rehab scheduled every other cycle after the shift is over,” Liz admitted.

“Good,” they said, content. “If my… best friend, is not functioning properly, I would be distressed.”

Liz smiled.

“And yes, I would most enjoy retrofitting your new branch[?] [limb]. We could make it… fashionable is the word, yes?”

[starryeyedwolves]

Vendetta

The pub was already buzzing when Sirius returned to the table, two pints in hand. He set one down in front of Remus with slightly more intensity than was probably necessary, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

“Alright, Moony,” he said, slapping the table, “tonight, you’re going to absolutely destroy the competition.”

Remus blinked, looking up from the trivia sheet with an amused arch of his brow. “I was planning on giving it my best, yes.”

“No, no. I mean, full obliteration,” Sirius said, sliding into his chair and leaning forward like he was about to explain battle plans. “We’re not just here to have fun. Not anymore.”

James, perched on the edge of his seat with a beer in hand, snorted. “What happened? Did someone insult your jacket again?”

Sirius glared toward the bar. “That guy over there. The one with the stupid man-bun and the pretentious scarf. He told me our team doesn’t stand a chance. Then he laughed. At me.”

Lily glanced toward the bar, then back at Sirius. “And now you’ve declared war?”

“Obviously.”

Peter sighed. “You realize trivia night is meant to be low-stakes, right?”

“Tell that to scarf-boy,” Sirius muttered. “He basically dared us to lose.”

Dorcas leaned in, looking intrigued. “Did he actually say that?”

“Well… no. Not exactly. But the way he looked at me—it was full of judgment. I could feel it.”

Marlene burst out laughing. “So, your vendetta is based on vibes?”

“Hostile vibes,” Sirius insisted. “And now we have to win. No excuses.”

Mary, flipping through the previous week’s trivia results, grinned. “I’m in. If only to witness this absolute carnage unfold.

Remus rubbed his temples, but his mouth was twitching with suppressed laughter. “I suppose I can channel my inner academic warrior. For the sake of honor.”

“And for my pride,” Sirius added, dramatically placing a hand over his heart.

Lily reached over and patted Sirius’s arm like he was a particularly excitable dog. “Well, if we’re going to war, I want snacks. And a battle strategy. And maybe matching t-shirts.”

“You’re enabling him,” James said.

“I’m married to you. Enabling poor decision-making is part of the package,” Lily replied with a grin.

Across the pub, the scarf-wearing man sipped a fancy-looking cocktail and let out another loud, self-satisfied laugh. Sirius' jaw tightened.

“We’re taking them down,” he said again, more to himself than anyone else.

The rounds were smoother than expected. Remus was in his element, answering questions faster than the quizmaster could read them. By the time the scores were posted, ‘The Marauders’ were leading by a wide margin.

Scarf Guy’s team—unimaginatively named ‘Quiztopher Nolan’—was in second. He looked irritated.

Sirius was nearly vibrating with excitement.

The trivia host, who had clearly been doing this every Thursday night for the last twenty years, adjusted her glasses and addressed the room. “We’ve got a tight race between two teams. So, in the spirit of competition—and because I enjoy watching pub rivalries—we’ll be doing a head-to-head lightning round.”

Gasps and murmurs spread through the room. Remus looked toward the host, then at Sirius, who was now grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Go on, love,” Sirius whispered, “show them what that pretty brain of yours can do.”

Remus chuckled, stood, and made his way to the front. The opposing team sent Scarf Guy.

The lightning round was savage. Question after question was hurled with no mercy. Remus, calm and unshaken, delivered correct answers with surgical precision. Scarf Guy was holding his own—barely—but he was starting to sweat.

Back at the table, James was recording the whole thing on his phone. “This is gold. We should make a documentary.”

Marlene leaned forward, eyes wide. “He’s a machine. Look at him go!”

Dorcas whispered, “I think I’m developing a crush.”

Lily rolled her eyes fondly. “You all sound like teenagers. Let the man focus.” Then she added with a smirk, “Although I wouldn’t mind borrowing his brain for next week's crossword.”

Sirius didn’t even glance at them. His eyes were locked on Remus with a mix of awe and pride.

Then came the final question.

“In Greek mythology, who was condemned to hold up the sky for eternity?”

Scarf Guy paused.

Remus didn’t. “Atlas.”

The host raised her hand. “Correct.”

The table exploded in cheers. Peter nearly spilled his pint. James whooped. Lily threw her hands in the air. Mary and Marlene high-fived with wild grins. Sirius stood up, beaming like the sun.

When Remus returned to their table, Sirius pulled him into a dramatic kiss, dipping him slightly like they were in some cheesy black-and-white film.

“You’re ridiculous,” Remus murmured against his lips.

“And you’re bloody brilliant,” Sirius replied.

“To Remus!” Peter cried, raising his glass.

“To Remus!” the group echoed.

Lily leaned across the table and added, “And to revenge-fueled trivia! May it always be this entertaining.”

Scarf Guy sulked his way out of the pub shortly after. Sirius toasted his retreat.

Later that night, as they walked home wrapped in coats and scarves, Sirius kept sneaking looks at Remus like he couldn’t believe he got to marry someone that smart.

Remus, ever the quiet one, just squeezed his hand and smiled.

That night, tucked beneath their duvet, Sirius lay on his side, still wide awake with the remnants of adrenaline buzzing through his veins. Remus was reading, his glasses slipping down his nose, his hair mussed from Sirius’ hands.

“You know,” Sirius murmured, nudging him gently, “I meant it. Watching you tonight? Utterly intoxicating.”

Remus snorted, turning the page. “I answered trivia questions, not performed an erotic dance.”

Sirius rolled closer, nudging Remus’ book down. “Same effect, honestly.”

“You’re being absurd.”

“Maybe,” Sirius said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ jaw. “But you’re my absurdity. And tonight, you made that guy look like a clueless fool in front of a full pub.”

Remus set the book aside, finally giving Sirius his full attention. “You’re very fixated on this guy.”

“I’m fixated on you.”

Remus gave him a fond look, then reached out to run fingers through Sirius’s hair. “You’re such a sap when you’re not busy declaring trivia war.”

Sirius grinned, resting his forehead against Remus’. “Only for you.”

Outside, the city was quiet and still, but inside their little flat, wrapped in the comfort of soft sheets and gentle affection, everything was warm.

Trivia night was over. Victory was sweet. But this—the slow, quiet certainty of loving and being loved—was even better.

[bucksaiga]

i'll believe you when you're sober

E Rating Tags: Drunk Evan "Buck" Buckley, Fix-It, Frottage, Reconciliation, Dubious Consent

Every night feels quiet and monotonous. No one to yap his ear off with random trivia. No one to insist on massaging his scalp in the shower after a long shift. No Evan.

It's all Tommy's fault, he knows, but he constantly tells himself that it was for the best. It was the right thing. Even if every sunset is a vicious cycle of endless darkness. He's not sleeping as well without the goodnight kiss…and another…and another…and one more. He's not eating as well with out the "is this sauce too spicy?" "no it's perfect" pasta. Tommy's just not the same anymore.

At 10:40, he dragged himself to bed and tried to sleep on what used to be Evan's side. All it does is make him miss him more. Dream about him more. Toss and turn without him more.

He stared at the ceiling, ready for another sleepless night.

He slowly turned his head toward the night table, following the sound of his phone vibrating.

The number on the screen was unfamiliar, but at 11 PM, it had to be a mistake, or an emergency.

He answered either way.

"Hello?"

"Hey, yeah…are you Tommy?" A man on the other end of the phone asked.

"Yes? Who's calling?"

"My name is Greg, I'm a bartender at Bigg's Bar. I've got a guy, Buck, at the bar who's been disturbing the patrons and crying over you. He's had too much to drink so I suggested giving you a call. Can you come pick him up?"

"…Buck? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he almost got into a fight with some guy over…the moon, or something. Anyway, can you get him out of here? It's almost last call."

Tommy had to shake off the momentary shock. "Uh…Yeah, I'll be there as soon as possible."

The call ended and Tommy rushed to put on some clothes, any clothes. He put on one black sock and one white sock, some grey sweats that were a bit snug and Buck's favorite hoodie. He'd be sure to explain to Buck why he still had it once he was sober.

Bigg's was a 30 minute commute from Tommy's, but Tommy was sure to get there as quickly as possible.

He rushed inside and immediately approached the bartender. "You called me? About Buck?"

"Oh, yeah, he's over there." Greg pointed to the end of the bar to a man with his head resting on his arm and a glass of water in front of him. "Buck? Buck." Tommy nudged him.

"Mmh…" Buck mumbled as he slowly sat up. His heavy, glossy eyes went wide. "To-Tommy?"

Tommy nodded. "C'mon. Let's get you out of here before you get in trouble." Tommy attempted to help Buck off the bar stool, only to receive no cooperation.

Buck yanked his arm out of Tommy's grasp. "I don't…wanna go with you."

Tommy felt his heart sink immediately. He knew all along Buck hated him, but this was proof. "Why?" He asked, knowing the question was pointless.

"Because you hate me. You don't want me."

"Listen, I don't hate you, okay? And I'm not leaving without you."

Buck whimpered and put his head back down. "M'not going."

"Please." Tommy sighed. "You can't stay here all night, they want you to go."

Buck snickered. "So nobody wants me."

"Just let me take you home, okay? I promise I don't mind."

Buck slowly sat up and allowed Tommy to escort him out of the bar. Tommy strapped Buck into his backseat and handed him a plastic bag from one of his grocery shopping trips earlier that week.

"If you need me to stop or slow down, just say so."

Buck mumbled something as his head bobbed to the side, gently knocking against the window.

Tommy began driving, occasionally glancing back at Buck, who hadn't said a single word since they left the bar.

"I told him…" Buck slurred.

"Told who?" Tommy asked.

"The guy…at the bar. I told him…there were active volcanoes on the moon and he…he said I sounded stupid. You…never called me stupid." "You're not stupid, Buck."

"Can we go to your house?"

"Why my house?" Tommy narrowed his eyes into the rear view mirror.

"Wanna…use the white noise machine."

Tommy did not want to bring Buck to his house, but he also did want to bring Buck to his house.

"Fine." He acquiesced.

Tommy drove Buck back to his house, helped him out of his clothes and into the bed. He turned on the white noise machine and tucked Buck in securely.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"No!" Buck exclaimed, grabbing his hand. "Stay with me."

Tommy shook his head. "I can't sleep here with you."

"Why?" Buck whined. "Y'don't wanna?"

He did wanna. Very much so. He craved nights like this every night since he broke up with Buck. But he didn't think he deserved it.

"No. You're drunk. I don't think you'd want to sleep next to me if you were sober."

"Please." Buck begged. "I've missed you so bad. I just want to lay next to you. One more time."

Tommy joined Buck in the bed, against his better judgement.

He let Buck flop into his arm and nuzzle against his cheek.

“Goodnight kiss.” Buck mumbled.

Tommy slowly turned to Buck. A kiss is just a kiss, right? No big deal. They’ve done it a hundred times. Maybe even more.

Tommy planted a soft, chaste kiss on Buck’s lips.

“Another.” He agreed. “Another.” Of course. “One more.” Anything he wanted.

Until Buck rolled on top of him, the chaste kisses becoming slow, passionate and sloppy.

It was the kiss he remembered. The taste he remembered. The tongue he remembered. The Evan he remembered. It was so good, it made him moan.

But they hadn’t discussed the breakup. This wasn’t something that could be left in the past and forgotten. They were too broken to be here. He didn’t deserve these kisses.

Buck slid his hand down, freeing their cocks from the restricting shorts that kept them separated from one another, grinding against Tommy slowly and lazily.

He didn’t deserve the feeling of Evan’s cock slowly gliding against his own, so slick and wet and eager to push inside him.

“E-Ev—baby. We-we shouldn’t.” He moaned, attempting to refuse himself the oncoming orgasm. He didn’t deserve this.

“Tommy.” Buck whined. “I needed you. Missed you.”

“I missed you too.” His moan was a little louder than he anticipated. His cock was sputtering and leaking weeks of pent up precome.

“You’ve never been this hard before.” Buck whispered with a smirk he couldn’t see in the darkness.

“We’ve been apart for a long time.” Tommy admitted, gripping Buck’s ass and grinding up against him, meeting his movements.

Tommy should have been focused on other things. You are so drunk, I had to scrape you off a bar stool. We aren’t together anymore. What are we even doing?

But all he could focus on was—

“I’m gonna come!” Tommy moaned. “Don’t stop.”

“Come for me, daddy. Yeah. You feel so good.” Buck praised. He leaned into Tommy’s neck, softly biting his sensitive skin.

Tommy let out a guttural groan as his cock spilled between them, and Buck soon followed, continuing to slowly grind against Tommy, kissing him until they both had nothing left.

Buck rolled onto the pillow and sighed happily. “Man. I really needed that.”

Tommy slowly sat up. “I’m gonna go get something to clean us up with.”

“Don’t be gone long, baby. I wanna talk to you.”

Tommy wasn’t in much of a rush to return. Buck was drunk. There was no way they could have a decent conversation like this.

He returned, hoping Buck was sound asleep, slightly disappointed when Buck turned toward him as he cleaned him off.

“Tommy.” Buck mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“I miss you so much. I love you…so much.”

“I’m sorry, Evan.” Tommy said sincerely. “But I don’t think you know what you’re saying right now. Let’s pick this up in the morning.”

“Mmh. I do.” Buck weakly argued. “I mean it.”

“Okay. I will believe you when you’re sober.”

“Kiss me.”

Tommy offered Buck one more kiss. Two more kisses. Three more kisses. Ambushed when Buck pulled him in for a fourth, smiling against his lips as if he’d won something.

Tommy didn’t deserve to feel like a prize.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Evan.”

Tommy lied flat on his back and Buck rolled into his arms, lazily peppering kisses on Tommy’s cheek until he fell asleep.

Tommy could feel Buck’s breathing evening out and his breath tickling his cheek.

It was nice. And he didn’t deserve it at all.

The following morning, Tommy woke up in bed alone. He’d be able to convince himself that last night was a dream if Buck’s cologne didn’t linger on his sheets and on his skin.

This is exactly what he deserved. Buck obviously came to his senses when he woke up and realized this was a drunken mistake.

Tommy dragged himself downstairs to make some coffee. There was no way he was going to make it through the day without a cup or two.

He didn’t expect his door to swing open the moment he reached the counter.

“Oh h-hey, good morning.” Buck greeted. “I thought you’d still be asleep before I got back.” He lifted the bag in his hand. “I went to get us some breakfast, to thank you and apologize for last night. I-I don’t remember everything, but I know you picked me up before I did something I would regret. So, thank you.”

“Thank Greg.”

“Greg?”

“The bartender. He said you were crying over me and asked me to get you out of the bar. I felt responsible.”

“Yeah.” Buck laughed. “I uh…I memorized your number in case anything ever happened. Since we’re both first responders…” He trailed off, sighing. “So. Hungry?”

“Yeah. Thank you. I’ll make us some coffee.”

“So…about last night.” Buck began. “I don’t really remember everything. Did we…”

Tommy nodded.

“I figured. Did I say anything stupid?”

“You told me you love me.”

“W—hey, that’s not stupid.” Buck frowned.

“When you’re drunk and don’t mean it, it is.”

“I did mean it.”

Tommy shook his head. “You don’t.”

“Tommy. I’m not stupid. Or confused. I do love you.”

“I never said you were any of those things. I just don’t think you can love me for everything I am when I’ve been holding so much back.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I feel like I’ve…" Tommy sighed. "I've conditioned myself to be a good boyfriend. To be right. To be perfect. And in the process of all that. I don’t know if I’m ever really…myself. I’m afraid to let go. To unwind. To not be the confident, comfortable person. I’ve tried to be everything you were attracted to, but I can’t be that all the time. And when that veil is pulled away, I’ll lose you. You’ll lose interest.”

“Don’t you think I want to see more of that? It’s okay to fall apart in my arms, and give me a chance to love you unconditionally. That’s what I want to do. I want to see you. All of you.”

“You only think you do.”

“I know you’ll have a moment of weakness. Everyone does. I’ve seen it before. You’ve questioned your place in the 118 family more than once, and I’m always here to remind you how special you are. Beyond all the cool things you do. I just—I want to love everything about you.”

Buck nervously watched Tommy. He was quiet. Pensive. It made Buck’s grip tighten so much on his coffee cup, he could’ve cracked it.

“I told you last night that I would believe you when you were sober.”

“So…do you believe me?”

Tommy nodded. “I do, and I love you too. I don't ever want to let you go again."

Buck smiled. "Hey ca-can we have sex?"

"That's your first order of business?" Tommy snorted.

"I just wanna remember it this time! And maybe it'll help with my hangover."

"Can we finish breakfast first?"

Buck's sweet smile turned into a mischievous smirk that Tommy knew all too well. Before he knew it, he was being dragged upstairs by his collar.

"We can finish breakfast later."

Give me kudos <3

[tinydefector]

Learning How v11

Bob reynolds x Trans male reader

Author notes: I like spent 10 minutes making a void for this XD

Warnings: Classic thunderbolts warning.

Word count 3.8k

Masterlist

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Bob felt much better today, after sitting in the shower last night for nearly half an hour with Void today he felt lighter, motivated. He had a quick shower this morning washing his hair and brushing his teeth. It had been a mental win for him when he looked himself over in the foggy mirror.

He then brushed his hair, applied deodorant and took a moment to really let it settle in. He had done it, one of the things he struggled with a lot. The next thing he had done was strip his bed down and put new sheets on. It had been nearly 3 weeks since he asked if Yelena could help him with it because he just couldn't get past the mental block of changing his bed.

He didn't sit still long after that wanting to try and get as much done as he could while he had the energy. Carrying the sheets and laundry he had to wash it, he had sat on top of the washing machine while it cycled, it was peaceful not having the feeling of observed while he worked.

Once it had finished he threw his clothes into the dry and turned it on and headed back up three floors to where the makeshift kitchen is. And that's how he found himself washing dishes by hand instead of using the dishwasher. The faint sound of running water and clinking dishes echo off the walls. As he methodically scrubbed plates and glasses. His movements were deliberate, almost meditative, as if each dish washed was another step forward. Today had already been a decent day for him, and that was saying something.

Something that would have seemed impossible just a week ago. Bob didn’t allow himself to revel in the progress, though. It was a fragile thing, and he knew better than to draw too much attention to himself, even internally. He just kept scrubbing.

The others were doing their best to give him space. John was currently sitting at the dining table reading through the newspaper, occasionally looking up and watching the group with a quiet intensity. He had been the one to specifically warn them not to make any comments about Bob doing the dishes or any chore. “Let him have this,” John had said firmly. “Don’t ruin his stride. This is hard enough for him normally don't make a big deal out of it”

Ava sat cross-legged on the couch, correcting Alexei with his cross word he had stolen out of the newspaper. Yelena, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with excitement as she laid on the floor with CC her guinea pig laying on her chest. She peaked from her spot, occasionally glancing dramatically at the door. “I can’t believe Bucky and Y/N aren’t here to see this!” she whispered, her voice carrying despite her attempt to be quiet. “This is like... a nine-scale day for him! Maybe even a nine-and-a-half!”

“Yelena,” Alexei muttered from his spot in the armchair, not looking up from the cross word he was half heartedly working on. “ voice down. You’re going to make him self-conscious.”

John gave them all a sharp look, and she immediately mimed zipping her lips shut. But even then, she couldn’t stop fidgeting, her excitement bubbling over. Ava chuckled softly at that, but quickly covered her mouth when John shot her a warning glance. Bob didn’t seem to notice the quiet exchange behind him. He just kept scrubbing. The rhythmic sound of the water running and the soft clink of dishes was oddly soothing.

For Bob, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was... nice. He was thankful no one had said anything to him about what he was doing. If they had, if they’d even made a passing comment about how great it was to see him doing the dishes, he might have shut down completely. It happened all the time when he was a kid. Trying to keep his head down, doing chores, only to get picked on for it. He didn’t need that now. Not when he was finally starting to feel like he could breathe again.

Yelena wasn’t the only one who noticed how rare this moment was. Even Alexei, who rarely got emotional about anything, was quietly impressed. “You know,” he said in a low voice, mostly to himself, “this is good. This is really good.”

John nodded, his gaze still fixed on Bob. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It is. Let’s just make sure it stays that way.”

The group fell into a companionable silence after that, each of them doing their best to keep themselves busy. For once, the air in the Watchtower felt lighter. And Bob, though he didn’t show it, felt a small flicker of pride as he placed the last clean plate on the drying rack. It wasn’t much. But for him, it was everything.

The sound of the door opening broke the relative quiet of the Watchtower. Y/N and Bucky stepped inside, their voices carrying before they even made it to the dining room.

“Yea, and you’re the dumbass who nearly got half his hair burnt off back then, the hair cut after you came back from Wakanda was the best thing that happened to you!” Y/N exclaimed, his tone a mix of teasing and exasperation. He shifted the shopping bags in his arms as shooting a sharp look at Bucky. “I told you to tie it up in a ponytail or a bun, but nooooo, don’t listen to Y/N. And you wonder why Sam works with Joaquin now.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, his own bags clinking softly as he set them down on the table. “Oh, give me a break,” he shot back, his voice laced with mock irritation. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Not that bad?!” Y/N barked out a laugh, dropping the bags onto the table with a dramatic huff. “Your hair looked like a toasted marshmallow, Buck! There’s a reason Sam’s sister liked you better with short hair.”

“Don’t bring Sarah into this,” Bucky grumbled, pointing a finger at him like it was a mortal offense. “Meanwhile, I’m the one who had to smell burnt hair for the rest of the mission. So next time you want to bring up touching light bulbs, remember your dumbshit.”

The rest of the team, who had been quietly minding their own business just moments ago, now found themselves frozen in place, watching the scene unfold like it was the most entertaining thing they’d seen all day.

Yelena, who had been pacing earlier, stopped mid-step and leaned against the back of the couch, a wide grin spreading across her face. She glanced at Alexei, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. Ava’s eyes dart back and forth between Y/N and Bucky like she was watching a tennis match.

“Are they... are they bickering like children?” Alexei murmured.

“Absolutely,” Yelena whispered back, her eyes sparkling with delight.

John, who had been quietly observing from his spot against the wall, let out a soft chuckle. “Let them go at it,” he said under his breath. “It’s harmless. And i'm not the one in the firing line”

Bob, still standing by the sink, had paused wiping his hands on a tea towel to glance over his shoulder at the commotion. He couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. Watching Y/N and Bucky squabble so casually, so comfortably, made something warm settle in his chest. It wasn’t just funny, it was comforting. Y/N seemed so at ease, and Bucky, despite his usual gruffness, was clearly enjoying himself too, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“Don’t act like you’re innocent in this,” Bucky said, pointing a finger at Y/N. “You’re the one who thought it’d be a brilliant idea to take a shortcut through the building with the gas leak.”

“Oh, so now you’re blaming me?” Y/N shot back, crossing their arms and cocking an eyebrow. “You’re the one who said, and I quote, ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ You jinxed us, Barnes!”

“I did not!” Bucky countered, his voice rising slightly as he stepped closer to Y/N. As if he had a point to prove only for Y/n to clap back.

Y/N delivered the verbal blow with the precision of a master combatant.

“I can’t believe you fumbled three baddies in your lifetime,” Y/N said to Bucky with mock disbelief. “First Steve, then Sam, and Sarah. I bet you could fumble John as a rival, too.”

“Hey the fuck?!?” John shouts looking flabbergasted over being brought into this argument.

A beat of stunned silence hung in the air before Ava let out a howling laugh, nearly falling off the couch as she doubled over. “Oh my God!” she gasped between fits of laughter. “Going for the Throat L/n?” She called out while trying to stifle her laughter.

Yelena’s jaw dropped. “Wait, wait, wait! Back up! Bucky fumbled Steve?!” she exclaimed, practically throwing herself across the coffee table to get closer to the conversation. “How? When? Why didn’t I know about this?, you claimed you were only Battle buddies!”

Alexei, who had been busy dissecting Y/N and Bucky’s earlier bickering like a soap opera, leaned back in his chair with an amused smirk. “Winter soldier, what kind of mess are you hiding?”

Bucky groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as the group descended into chaos. “That’s a low blow, Y/N,” he muttered, his tone a mix of exasperation and reluctant admiration for his sheer audacity.

Y/N didn’t miss a beat, flashing Bucky a cheeky smile. “I fight dirty,” he said with a shrug. “Thought you knew that already after the boiler and generator. Super soldier, my ass, Grandpa.”

That earned another round of laughter from the team. Ava wiped a tear from her eye, barely able to speak through her giggles. “Oh, he got you! good, bloody hell. Maybe we should unless Y/n on Valantina ”

Yelena looked like she was about to combust with excitement. “Okay, okay, you have to explain the Steve thing now. Like, was this before or after the ice!?”

“Yelena,” Bucky growled, his face a shade of red that only made the others laugh harder. “Drop it.”

“Absolutely not!” she shot back, practically bouncing in her seat. “This is the most interesting thing I’ve heard outside of Bob explaining to me how to play Skyrim”

Even John, who normally avoided getting dragged into the team’s antics, couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “You walked into that one, Barnes,” he said, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Sarah, huh? Bold. Didn't think you had a thing for Sam's sister”

“ Shut your fucking Mouth, Don’t encourage them!” Bucky snapped, glaring at John, who just shrugged, storing that information away for if he ever ran into Sam Wilson again.

Bob, still standing at the sink, was utterly floored by the entire exchange. He had never seen Y/N this snarky before. Sure, he'd always been confident and quick-witted, but this level of sass? It was a whole new side of this man. And the fact that Bucky, gruff, stoic ex winter soldier was letting him get away with it was even more shocking.

“I can’t believe this is what I came back to,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head as he pulled a chair out and slumped into it. “I leave for five minutes, and suddenly, I’m everyone’s favorite punching bag because of you.” he grumbles shooting Y/n a death glare.

“Oh, come on, Buck,” Y/N said with a grin, sliding into the seat next to him. “You know I only pick on you because Sam isn't here to do it himself because he's still pissed at you.”

“That’s the same excuse Sam uses,when you were pissed at me” Bucky huffs, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward, betraying the hint of a smile.

“See? Told you. Fumbled four baddies,” Y/N teased, holding up four fingers for emphasis. “Steve, Sam, Sarah, and now me. Damn soldier can't pick up chick or dicks to save your life”

That sent Yelena into a fit of laughter, and even Ava had to clutch her sides as she gasped for air. Alexei, who had been quietly sipping on a cup of chai and yegar, raised it in a mock toast.

Bucky groaned again, as he walls off leaving the group to their own devices. Y/N began unpacking the groceries. He barely looked up as he tossed items across the room. “John!” Y/N called, grabbing a large tub of protein powder from one of the bags and lobbing it in his direction. “I got that god-awful protein powder you somehow live off of. Seriously, how do you drink this stuff? It smells like chalk and regret!”

John caught it midair with ease, smirking. “It’s called discipline, Y/N. You should try it sometime.”

“Discipline?” Y/N snorted, shaking his head as he rummaged through the next bag. “More like a death wish. I'd rather eat Bicarb soda”

“Lena!” he called out next, pulling out a small pack of treats and a bag of pellets. “I got food for CC—stuff for guinea pigs, right? Unless she’s developed a taste for filet mignon while we were gone.”

Yelena’s eyes lit up as she darted over to grab the supplies while carrying CC with her, practically bouncing on her feet. “You’re the best, Y/N!” she beamed, holding up the bag like it was a trophy. “CC will be so happy. She was starting to give me the side-eye every time I walked past her cage without snacks. I'm surprised she hasn't figured her way to the fruit bowl yet ” she opens the packet and pulls a treat out for her guinea pig.

Y/N pulls out another item and tosses it toward Ava, who caught it with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s this?” Ava asked, holding up a bag of sour candy.

“Your ‘I pretend I don’t eat junk food but secretly do’ stash,” Y/N replied with a knowing smirk.

Ava rolled her eyes but grinned as she leaned back on the couch. “You know me too well.”

“Alexei!” Y/N shouted, pulling out a six-pack of beer and chucking it toward him. “For all the hard work you’ve been doing... or pretending to do.”

Alexei caught the pack with a hearty laugh, standing up to set it on the table. “Pretending, eh? You’ve clearly been gone too long if you’ve forgotten who keeps this team together.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N shot back. “The only thing you’ve been keeping together is that suit barely.”

Alexei held up a finger like he was about to argue.

Y/N turned back to the bags, pulling out random items and muttering to himself. “Let’s see... snacks, freezer, cupboard and Fridge, more snacks... oh, Bob, I got you some of those ice creams you like.”

Bob, who had been quietly observing from his spot by the sink, looked up in surprise. “Oh, uh, thanks,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t used to people thinking about him like that, and it warmed him more than he expected.

Y/n stood by the counter, fiddling with something small in his hands. Bob glanced over, curious, but didn’t say anything. Y/n finally walked over, holding something tiny and shiny between his fingers. Before Bob could ask, Y/n leaned in and pressed it gently onto the tip of his nose.

Bob blinked, startled, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch his face. “What… what are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and confused.

“Hold on,” Y/n said with a grin, stepping back. “Just look.”

Bob frowned but turned his head, catching his reflection in the nearby window. There, stuck on the tip of his nose, was a tiny gold star sticker. He stared at it for a moment, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“What is this?” Bob asked, plucking the sticker off and holding it between his fingers. The small, shiny gold star felt oddly familiar, like an echo from another time.

“I got gold star stickers,” Y/n explained with a mischievous smile. “Think of them as, like, positive reinforcement. I’m gonna randomly give them to you.”

The words hit Bob harder than he expected, the memory of being a little kid flashing through his mind. Back then, gold stars had been rare, something he only got in school when he managed to do something right, when he managed to be good for just a little while. They had meant everything to him then. And now…

Y/n’s voice pulled him back to the present. “I’m also really proud of you,” they said softly, their tone sincere. “I know how hard it is to do the dishes.”

“He did other things too!” Yelena calls out, making Y/n turn to look at her. “ he had a shower, brushed his hair and teeth, made his bed, did laundry along with the dishes!” She says with a wide smile.

Bob blinked again, caught off guard, as Y/n leaned in and stuck another gold star on his cheek. He reached up to touch it, his fingers brushing over the shiny surface. “And for brushing your hair and teeth,” Y/n added, pressing two more stars onto his opposite cheek, his smile soft and warm.

Bob couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him, a mix of disbelief and something lighter, something that almost felt like joy. “You’re seriously giving me stickers for basic hygiene?”

“Absolutely,” Y/n said with a playful nod, his eyes twinkling. “You deserve recognition for the little victories. They’re not as little as you think.”

Bob shook his head, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips now. He didn’t pull the stickers off. Not yet.

“For laundry and dishes,” Y/n continued, sticking two more stars onto his face, one on his temple and one near his jaw. They stepped back to admire their handiwork. Bob reached up, his fingers brushing over the stickers as he looked at Y/n. The warmth in his smile, the light in his eyes. It wasn't a pity. It wasn’t condescension. It was genuine. It was kindness, such a simple little thing.

“Why are you doing this?” Bob asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n tilted his head, expression softening further. “Because I’m proud of you, Because I know how hard it is to do those things when everything feels heavy. And because you deserve to feel good about yourself, Bob. Even for the little things.”

Bob’s chest tightened, a lump forming in his throat. He wanted to argue, to push back, to tell Y/n he was wasting his time. But he couldn’t. Not when he was looking at Bob like that, like he was worth something. “…Thanks,” Bob said softly, his voice cracking just slightly.

Y/n smiled wider, stepping closer and reaching up to adjust one of the stars on his cheek. “No problem. Just don’t forget, You’re doing better than you think.” Y/n boops his nose with a soft laugh.

Bob looked down at the small sticker still in his hand, the shiny gold surface catching the light. For the first time in a long time, he felt… okay. Not perfect, not fixed, but okay. Bob opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat as he glanced over, catching his reflection again in the nearby window. For a split second, the air seemed to freeze around him. It wasn’t him staring back this time.

It was The Void.

The dark shadow stared back through the glass, its form as unsettling and hollow as always. But something was… different. The little gold stars, the same ones Y/n had placed on Bob’s face, now shimmered on Void’s reflection too. One on its nose, two on a cheek, another near its temple, a two scattered across its shadowed jawline.

The Void blinked in the reflection, its black, bottomless eyes widening slightly. It didn’t move, didn’t speak. For the first time, it looked… surprised. Almost confused.

Bob turned his head slightly, glancing back toward Y/n, who was fiddling with something in the kitchen. He was humming softly, completely unaware of the strange, quiet moment unfolding behind them. Bob’s gaze flicked back to the reflection, his chest tightening as he studied Void.

The stars made it look… different. Less hollow. Less monstrous. They softened the sharp, jagged edges of its form, casting tiny glimmers of light against the darkness. It was still The Void, still that oppressive, inescapable part of him, but the stars made it feel less like a shadow and more like… a person.

The Void tilted its head slightly, its expression unreadable, but Bob could see the faintest flicker of something in its dark eyes. Not anger. Not annoyance. Something softer. Something almost… human. For a moment, Bob wasn’t sure what to say.. But then, softly, carefully, he whispered, “They’re on you too.”

The Void’s gaze shifted in the reflection, as though it were looking at its own hands. It didn’t speak, but its form flickered slightly, as if struggling to process what it was seeing. The little gold stars, bright and simple, didn’t belong on something like it. And yet… they were there, and they didn’t feel wrong. If anything, they felt strangely grounding.

The Void’s eyes snapped back to meet Bob’s in the reflection, its expression hard to read. For a moment, Bob thought it might lash out. But instead, The Void simply stared, silent and still. It didn’t argue. It didn’t push back. It just… observed.

Y/n’s voice broke the moment, light and cheerful. “Alright, lunch will be ready in about 20 minutes,” he calls out to everyone, wiping his hands on a tea towel. His eyes lit up when they looked at Bob. “The stars suit you, by the way. I think they bring out your eyes.”

Bob blinked, startled, and instinctively touched his cheek where one of the stars rested. He glanced back at the reflection again, but The Void was gone, and it was just him staring back now. The stars were still there, glinting softly in the light.

He turned back toward Y/n, his voice soft but steady. “Thanks… for this.”

Y/n waved him off with a warm smile, their tone light but sincere. “Hey, it’s no big deal. Just a few stars, I thought you might like them”

Bob didn’t respond right away. He thought about The Void, about the way it had looked in the reflection with the stars on its face. It wasn’t just a few stars. It was something more. Something he couldn’t quite put into words yet.

“Yeah,” Bob finally said, his voice quiet. “Just a few stars.”

But as he moved to sit down beside Yelena, feeling the warmth of Y/n’s presence, he realized those little golden stickers might have been the smallest and yet most important thing anyone had ever done for them. For both of them.

Let me know if you'd like to be added to a tag list for Bob reynolds.

[benji-1210]

So ready to be tickled into another plane of existence.

Like oops I stole this rare and valuable object from a lab doing experiments on touch and sensation

and oops they caught me

and oops now im bound and helpless

oh no they're testing out their new tickle machine on me

oh no its got tons of hands and brushes and feathers and vibrators

oh no its reaching for me

oh no its learning all my worst (best) tickle spots

uh oh it found my death spot

oh dear I pissed all over the table

oh no they aren't stopping

oh lord im cumming

no let me cum

please im begging oh god i need to cum its been hours

please

it feels so good

it tickles so bad

im cumming

on no im so sensitive now

oh goD oh No they won't StOp AaaHg

anyway, that would be such a shame....if they got me....

[temis-de-leon]

Day 21 - Comforting while crying kiss

Characters: Solomon x fem!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: college anxiety, memories about bad friends, worried Solomon, established relationship

A/N: not the most relatable because I made it as a continuation for this, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

.

Studying in the human real again wasn’t something she ever thought would become a reality, especially when she didn’t want to do it at all, but she should’ve learnt long ago that no thing in life was impossible.

Her best friends, if not her only friends, were demons and angels; she was dating King Solomon the Wise. Going back to college should not feel that weird.

And yet.

There she was, sitting on her ankles in a hidden corner under the staircase of the main entrance. The heat of June burned her hair and made her cupid’s bow sweat, but it was the stress of finals what made her feel feverish. Her backpack laid pathetically near her, the zipper opened enough to let her see some crumpled papers full of scribbles and a couple of pens with no caps.

It was draining. Sitting alone at the table, remembering the presence of those who left her behind laughing at her jokes and helping her study, acting like true friends when God knows what they were saying behind her back. The tiles of the floor and the graffiti on the benches remained the same, but the walls were different and the buildings had gone through some serious renovations. What hurt her the most, surprisingly, was the sight of the brand new cafeteria, which now looked like a hospital ward.

MC’s lips trembled at the thought of change and evolution, of coming so far just to return to the same place that made her feel so lonely.

First periods on Mondays, back when she was eighteen, were hectic. The hallways were cold and the elevator was always occupied because a blind guy with his guide dog had to go to the last floor and whoever decided to be stubborn and wait for the elevator to be free was always late to class. One of the coffee machines forever remained out of service and the other one only had one flavour worth paying: hazelnut. MC didn’t even like coffee and still bought a couple of those every now and then.

The blind guy already graduated, she supposed. Both coffee machines worked and they even had other vending machines filling the empty spaces of the hallways. Warm hallways, that is. The Styrofoam cups didn’t smell like hazelnut anymore, but rather something more generic and impersonal.

MC couldn’t recognize the scent and it made her mad. It made her cry. And the foolishness of the situation made her cry even harder.

Her weeping filled the corner she was hiding in and she felt incredibly grateful that the evening classes had already started, but not much time would pass until anyone inside would open the windows in search of any possible breeze.

Determined to not let the damn building see her cry more than necessary, MC grabbed her things and pitifully walked down the street, looking at the flowers with deep yearning like she too wished she was buried underground and left alone to absorb light and look pretty.

Fortunately for her mood, her phone vibrated in her pocket and showed a very familiar name. She tried to swallow tears and clear her voice before answering.

“Is everything okay, MC?”

She’d never fool him.

Solomon sounded extremely worried. The sheer surprise at his reaction made her stop in her tracks to wonder just how much he knew her. Before she could ponder about it too much, however, someone near her called her name.

There he was, sitting on the hood of a car that MC knew wasn’t his. He called her once more to urge her and, thankfully, by the time she reached him the crying had already stopped. Her skin felt sticky with sweat and fallen tears and she felt an incipient headache threatening to break her mind.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah”

She forced herself to swallow, hating the blockage in her nose, and Solomon looked at her in pity, clearly wanting to console without going too far.

“You know you can trust me, right?”

His eyes turned sad and MC felt the familiar sting in the back of her throat. Although her first impulse was to continue denying her pain and leave the whole thing behind, she knew that if she didn’t ask her boyfriend, of all people, to take care of her, then the turmoil would become much worse.

“I do” she assured him, holding his hand in slow movements. He immediately held her back and her eyes watered again “I’m just really tired, you know?”

There, under the sun, where no one was there to see the scene, Solomon opened his arms and sighed when she rushed towards him. MC tried to ignore the tears staining his white coat, hugging him instead to hide from the rest of the world. There was a gentle pressure on top of her head, a soft kiss that made her shoulders relax and lean into him further.

“Do you want to go back home? Take a nap?”

MC didn’t know what home he was talking about, but she didn’t care. Without letting him go, she nodded against his chest and made herself comfortable. Home was wherever as long as he was there with her.

.

.

Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @craftysclown @mehkers

[shot-of-truth]

Sex Drive*

summary: basically just a threesome with luke and mgk that has been sitting in my drafts for about two years.. yes I'm horrible.

warnings: everything filthy; breeding, degradation, slapping, choking, double penetration, squirting.. the lot, you know?

word count: 8k of pure filth

Luke knew Colson long before they signed with Interscope records but he can not recall ever talking to him. What he knew though was that this man never failed to put on an amazing show and even better parties, according to their mutual friend Ashley. He heard about many of his positive traits and he tried to remember them while the lanky dude with about a hundred tattoos downed his fourth shot of tequila for that night. His best friend was a big fan of his music, that much he recalled, always blasting his newest album Hotel Diablo in the car and singing along loudly. Luke even overheard her talking about Colson releasing a vibrator as part of his Valentines Day merch, he wasn’t sure if she ever bought it… which wouldn’t surprise him though. The lead singer eyes the tall rapper talking to a few girls on the other side of the room and questions himself whether or not he should start a conversation with him, for the sake of Fleur. Luke’s christmas party is in less than a week and he just knows that Fleur would be the happiest girl on earth if he invited him. So that’s what he does, after his drink is finished he makes his way over to the man that is about as tall as he is and introduces himself.

He mentally thanks himself for deciding to come to Interscope’s Christmas party as both of them lose themselves in a chat about music and their shared love for pop punk, especially Blink-182.

That was the story of how Luke’s friendship with Colson, in the industry known as Machine Gun Kelly, started. You could leave it at that if it wasn’t for Luke’s infamous christmas party that he threw at his house every year, which Colson was invited to… of course. And that was where he met Fleur.

With her brown skin and braided hair she made her way through the hallway, carrying a few bottles of liquor that she seemed to have brought from her car. “Let me help you!” Luke spoke quickly, taking two bottles of rosé from her before kissing her cheek and telling her to make herself comfortable, which shouldn’t be too hard since she basically already lives at his place.

Colson watches the scene unfold in front of his eyes, leaning against the wall and picking his beer up for a sip. The girl that just walked in is drop dead gorgeous, in his eyes at least. He loves the way her dress hugs her curves and he absolutely fucking adores when she throws her head back to laugh at something Luke said. He picks up that she’s not wearing a bra, her nipples visible through the fabric… he swears he didn’t mean to stare, he just randomly notices. He’s a lot taller than her and it makes his cock swell just a little bit as he imagines all the dirty things he could do to her. Keeping his composure though, he walks over to his girl of the night, setting the beer down on the table and greeting her with a simple “hi!” If he didn’t look close enough he wouldn’t even have seen the excitement on her face as she looks up into his eyes. “Oh look who Luke invited..” She smirks, bringing the sparkling wine to her lips, her red lipstick leaving a stain on the glass. 

“Actually… now I’m really glad I came.” He shoots back, taking her hand and shaking it. “Colson.” He speaks, not letting her hand go until she tells him “Fleur”. After hearing her name he can’t help but think that she really does smell like a flower, like daisies actually… a soft smell, like a warm Spring day. 

It does get better though, half an hour later when both of them are lost in the crowd together, her body pressed against his, he can make out her coconut body wash under the thin layer of sweat on her neck. His hands are on her waist and he guides her to the beat, fingers digging into the flesh beneath her shirt. He feels her ass press against his crotch and he just knows that she is doing it on purpose. He leans his head down to plant a quick kiss to her neck, a satisfying sigh leaving her mouth. “We got two options, Colson. You either follow me now or I’ll find a room and a way to get myself off like I do with my vibrator.” Straight forward, no bullshit. Her hands brush against his crotch and she throws him a kiss before disappearing, leaving Colson a horny and drunken mess in the middle of the living room. Without thinking twice he finishes his drink and follows her until she opens a door at the end of the hallway and waits for him to step inside. When he does, she’s lying down on the bed, a seductive smile on her lips, just waiting for him to come over and fuck her brains out. Colson has other plans as he quietly closes the door and exhales, leaning against it and licking his lips. He watches her every move with hungry eyes, images of him filling her mouth with his cock prominent on his mind. But he’s got time tonight… more than enough. He is going to make her beg. Still leaning against the door, he moves his fingers, motioning for her to come over. His arms crossed on his chest, his gaze is fixated on her walking over to him. 

The size difference makes her heart race and she looks up into Colson’s magnificent eyes, a wave of heat taking over her body when he presses his lips to hers, testing the limits. He tastes like beer and her taste reminds him of the disgustingly sweet watermelon vodka. Fleur is standing on her tippy toes and she’s grabbing onto his shirt, Colson’s teeth lightly biting down onto her bottom lip, waiting for her to open up. Tongue licking into her mouth, he huffs quietly, squeezing her butt while he’s at it. While the two of them are making out against the wall, hands all over each other, Colson pushes his left leg forward. The fabric of his jeans meets her panties and if it wasn’t so dark he would have been able to see her mouth opening and forming an o-shape. Fleur hopes he can’t feel the damp spot on her panties against his leg, hopes she doesn’t make a mess on his ripped jeans. But when her lover for the night stares at her, breathing heavily for a few seconds before mumbling a low “fuck” and connecting their lips for a needy kiss again, all her worries are gone. Large hands still on her ass, he pulls her forward with such force she collides with his hard chest, her barely covered pussy sliding against his leg. 

He then gets a loud moan out of her, dick straining against his briefs. “Wanna be a good girl for me and get yourself off on my thigh? Wanna beg for it, slut?” Colson’s voice is needy, sexy and raw but his eyes show curiosity, as if he wants to ask her: is this okay? Do you really want to do this? Her knees almost give in when Colson calls her a slut, the humiliation having a strangely unexpected effect on her, panties now drenched in arousal. And Colson feels it, god does he love it. “Please… wanna use your thigh..” This is so fucking filthy and taboo, begging for her favorite singer to let her grind against his tattooed leg. Just when Fleur thought it could not get any better, he bites her earlobe and whispers: “want you to call me daddy if we’re gonna do it properly… know it gets you off, so… try again.” From what she can make his look out it looks challenging, he wants to see her crack, wants nothing more than for her to fall right into euphoria because of him. All of this already feels too good to be true but when she moans “daddy please… need your thigh” he breaks and pushes his leg up, right against her clit while holding her in place with his strong arms. Her moans are music to his ears while both of them start grinding against each other, rolling away from the door and onto the wall, him slowly feeling a wet patch forming on his blue jeans. 

Both of them are so caught up in one another, bodies tangled together, sounds of pleasure falling from their lips, they don’t even notice the door opening and a perplexed Luke standing in the hallway. His eyes are bloodshot and he looks helpless, red stained shirt that used to be white clinging to his body. “Fuck I’m… shit..” he stammers, catching Colson’s attention. Luke’s heart feels like it’s going a million miles an hour when he locks eyes with his best friend being held up by one of his co-workers… if you can call him that. He hates that he gets hard just from looking at her messy hair and smudged make-up. But what he hates the most is that the size difference between the two of them makes him break into a sweat, imagining if she’d also look this small on his lap. Right now Luke is really fucking thankful for the lack of lighting in his room because he’s certain they would have both seen his bulge. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, trying not to look at her exposed lace thong that is now visible since her dress has ridden up. “I just… new shirt..” His voice comes out dry and he mentally facepalms himself for not being able to bring out a normal sentence as he points at the wine-stain on his shirt. “Come in… close the door.” Colson orders, surprising both him and Fleur. A new thought formed in his head just a few seconds ago, something even more filthy than making her beg for his cock. He wants to see her beg for two cocks, he wants her to be absolutely fucking wrecked by the end of the night. Kells has never been one to share his girls but right now he just could not give a single fuck, unable to form a coherent thought. The younger one hurries to close the door and make his way over to his closet, pulling out a random shirt. He’s unaware of the four eyes watching him as he takes off his dirty shirt, Fleur having climbed down from Colson’s lap and sneaking over to her best friend. His skin is kind of sweaty and hot but she doesn’t mind when reaching her hand out to trace her nails down his back, examining his broad shoulders. The girl immediately picked up where this was going when Colson pressed his hard on against her tummy the moment Luke had closed the door. He wanted this and she wanted Luke, young, innocent Luke, as well as the rapper with his dominant attitude.

The two of them could not be more different if they tried, Colson’s skin splattered with ink while Luke’s remained pure and creamy white. Their personalities are completely different but the thought of Luke having a kinky side to him that she doesn’t know about makes her stomach twirl and do backflips. Colson does not have Luke’s broad shoulders but he’s just as tall as the 22 year old, the two of them easily towering over Fleur. 

All of them notice the dim light in the corner of the room that Luke turned on when looking for his shirt. It illustrates his skin when Fleur touches him, goosebumps rising on his arms. “Stay.” She whispers, fingertips on his bare back, caressing him. His eyes are closed while he rubs them, certain he’s had one too many this night because this can’t be happening. It’s simply not possible that Fleur is hugging him from behind now, arms wrapped around his torso. Before he can process what’s happening, she has him turned around, curls dangling in his face. He nervously looks over to Colson and sees him taking his shirt off, the tattoos looking like a second skin. What he also notices is that the other guy in the room does not have an ounce of body fat, he’s like a fucking spaghetti noodle. And it makes Luke feel a little bit insecure, being exposed to both of them. It’s all gone from his mind when she kisses his collarbone while standing on her tippy toes, she can’t get higher than this. Her lips are so soft and it makes Luke’s knees buckle just the slightest bit, especially when she kisses down towards his nipples, flicking her tongue over the right one. Her wet muscle dances over his skin, down to his belly button and she can taste the red wine on his skin, which someone had splashed over his shirt just a few minutes ago. 

At this point she is kneeling on the floor in front of him, knees digging into the soft carpet, marvelous eyes digging into his as she gazes up at him through her eyelids. Luke could swear he forgets how to breathe that very moment because now he can definitely sense where this is going and he clearly fucking likes it. “You little whore… got Luke all hard and now you’re being a fucking tease? I don’t think that’s nice at all.” Colson’s voice catches both of them off guard, he is a lot closer than he was just a minute ago, standing behind Fleur. She just licks her lips and tries not to let Luke see how turned on she is from being treated with little to no respect from the older man… so pathetic. Suddenly he grabs her hair with just a bit of force and pulls it, making him look up to her. “Fucking answer me when I talk to you, toy.” His voice is dripping with lust and he sounds dangerous, his gaze though is examining her body language to make sure she’s alright. “Yes daddy.. I- I’ll make it up… to him.” Luke is fucking shocked when he sees her smiling after mouthing the word ‘daddy’ with a bittersweet voice, his jaw falling open, cock thickening even more. He needs attention and he needs it there. Even though he is not so sure if he’d be able to contain himself now that he has his gorgeous best friend on her knees for him and his friend calling her a slut. He keeps quiet. Before Fleur can process it, Colson is bending down and grabbing her jaw, making her whine. “You better.” Colson says calmly and then he slaps her cheek, not too hard but enough to make the slap echo through Luke’s bedroom. “Mouth open” he then instructs, Fleur obeying him. Before any of them can comprehend what he‘s trying to do, he has collected some saliva and he‘s spitting it right into Fleur‘s awaiting mouth. 

It‘s only when Luke whines quietly, being so fucking turned on it hurts, that both of his friends are reminded of his presence. Colson wants to speak for him, wants to tell the gorgeous woman with the braids in her hair to take Luke‘s cock into her mouth already when Luke speaks, his voice laced with neediness. “Will you take my cock into your mouth, babygirl? Be a good girl for us?” He swears he doesn’t think straight when his thumb reaches out and caresses the sore skin on her cheek that Colson slapped a minute prior. Fleur presses her thighs together to get some sort of friction because now she’s basically dripping down her legs. There’s something about Colson being rough with her, demanding and dominant, but Luke praising her and calling her babygirl and good girl. Maybe that’s just what she needs, someone pushing her limits and someone else reassuring her. Her best friend opens his fly, pushing his jeans down just a bit, she waits impatiently. He’s wearing briefs and Fleur can see the outline of his dick, painfully hard. “Give it a kiss, lovie.” Luke mumbles, playing with her hair. So that’s what she does, she kisses him through his boxers, her tongue wetting the fabric, licking over his head where she swears she can taste just a little bit of pre-cum. Fleur’s hands slowly pull Luke’s briefs down, cock springing free. He’s hard and heavy and he hisses when it hits the rather cold air. 

“Get naked.” Colson orders from the bed, palming himself through his pants, watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes. The woman wants to reach for the hem of her dress when Luke already pulls it off of her, careful as to not rip it. She pulls her drenched thong off of her legs and before she can stop herself, she throws it over on the bed, next to Colson’s head, a cheeky smile on her face. He grabs it immediately, an animalistic growl leaving his lips. “God you fucking whore… dripping for both our cocks?” He doesn’t expect an answer when he lies down on the bed, sniffing her panties. Fleur instead looks up to Luke, his skin red. His dick is about an inch away from her face, average in size but rather thick. The veins running up his shaft are downright sinful, not to mention his pretty pink head. She wraps her hand around it, her tongue licking over his balls, a quiet moan coming from Luke. She never thought she’d be in this position, on her knees for her best friend. Luke on the other hand fantasized about this many times before, preferably in the middle of the night, with his slicked up cock fucking in and out of his fist. 

She collects his pre-cum and lubes up his dick with it, slowly jerking him off while putting his balls in her mouth, swirling her tongue around them. Luke thinks she looks content, batting her eyelashes at him. So he moans, a devilish combination with her slurping sounds and her fingers moving around his wet cock. It’s so fucking hot, not just metaphorically. To Fleur it feels like the temperature has risen to around 100° Fahrenheit since Luke has entered the room, her hair slightly sweaty as the curly haired man carefully gathers it in his hands so it wouldn’t fall in her face and get in her way. She listens closely and hears Colson moaning quietly while she kisses the head of Luke’s cock. Trying not to think about her glistening pussy being on full display to Colson, she licks Luke’s pretty dick up and down, his body reacting immediately. He fists her hair tighter when she finally takes him in, her warm, wet mouth engulfing him… and Luke has a hard time not cumming on the spot, thinking about what her pussy would feel like if her mouth is already heaven on earth. A pornographic moan leaves his mouth and Kells can’t help but smile, excited for what this night has in store for him and the others. The gagging sounds coming from the beautiful girl kneeling on the floor, combined with her spitting on Luke’s cock every now and then make the rapper throb. She has him so fucking deep in her throat, Luke just has to pull her away after a few minutes and kiss her forehead, out of breath. Tears are streaming down her face while she sniffles and gives him the cutest smile someone could give after taking a dick down their throat. His stomach almost does back-flips from her simple gesture, his thumb wiping her tears away and a whisper leaving his mouth: “So good to me, baby… took me so well, I loved it.” He holds on for a second, thumb swiping over her bottom lip, her warm mouth allowing him in. “Think she deserves a reward, am I right Kells?”

His shy smile turns into a confident smirk as he watches Colson get up from his previous position and walk over to the two of them. Before Fleur can even register what is happening, he is kneeling down behind them, licking a stripe up her soaking pussy, all the way from her clit to her entrance, her legs almost giving up and making her drop to the ground but Luke catches her, holds her hair and presses his lips to hers. Fleur’s eyes are shut in pleasure, little mewls escaping her slightly opened mouth, going over right into Luke. Colson is gripping her hips so tight that she’s sure she will find his handprints on them later in the night when she’s all by herself again, eyeing herself in the massive bathroom mirror. His tongue softly presses against her clit, face buried between her legs as he gets a taste of her. Luke can see that his friend is hard behind her, boxers pulled down to his ankles. 

Colson’s fingers find her entrance after eating her out for a good five minutes and he slowly inserts one finger, examining her reaction as she throws her head back, mouth opening. He’s sitting down behind her, one hand slowly pleasuring her, other one pulling her back by her hair so she’s settling down on his lap. The younger man has a smirk on his lips as he sits down in front of his best friend and loosely wraps his hand around her throat, making her teary eyes look up at him. He kisses her softly before licking his thumb and slowly bringing it to her clit, earning a soft sigh from her. The combination from both Colson and Luke pleasuring her is too much for Fleur, nails digging into Luke’s shoulder, trying to hold on to something as her body shakes. “What a dirty fucking whore.” Colson mumbles in her ear, right as he lets go of her hair and slaps her rosy cheek. Once, twice.

In her hazy mind, she notices Colson’s fingers disappearing and Luke’s slowly rubbing over her clit, slowly sending her over the edge and making her let out a pornographic moan, legs shaking. It feels like heaven to her. “Yeah, let go baby… sound so pretty when you cum for us… such a good girl.” In her overstimulated mind she notices lips on her neck, kissing and nibbling on that sweet spot that leaves her legs shaking as she’s coming down from her high. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke sees Kells still stroking himself behind her, hand on her hip. “Mind if I have a taste?” He asks the older one, as if Fleur isn’t even present, as if she has no say in this… and it turns her on so much. “All yours, man,” Kells smirks and steps back a little, leaving enough room for the singer to get behind his best friend and trace his finger over her soft thighs. A shiver runs down her spine and she jerks away from him at first, the sensitivity of her first orgasm still washing over her. “Aw baby, know you’re so sensitive… but I’m dying to taste you, need to have you right now.” With that, Luke picks her up and gently throws her on the bed that Colson is already sitting on. He’s fully naked now and for a quick moment Luke checks out all his tattoos that seem like a second layer of skin. “Lu, please…” His best friend is slowly grinding against nothing, her pussy so fucking wet in front of him, she’s almost dripping onto his bedsheets. 

The sound of her breathy moans and pleas has his dick impossibly harder between his legs, throbbing for her… but she has to wait, cause Luke reaaally loves hearing her beg, he decides. “Please what?” He mocks her, slowly settling between her thighs, rubbing the inside of it. “N-need you.” A slap echoes through the room, before Colson speaks. “Speak up bitch, how is Luke supposed to know what you n-n-need when you can’t even form a proper sentence, huh?” His big hand rubs the slightly sore skin on her cheek and she swears she has never been more turned on in her entire life, Luke still kissing right next to where she needs him the most, teasing the shit out of her. “So fucking pathetic, you didn’t even get our cocks yet and you’re still fucking dripping for us…so cock drunk you can’t even speak properly.” Luke settles down on the bed finally, placing her legs over his shoulders before kissing the inside of her thigh again. His blue eyes look up at Fleur, tears of frustration in her eyes and it has him concerned for a teeny tiny bit until she reaches her breaking point and blurts out: “Lick me Lu, pleaaaase.” He dives in immediately, like a starved man eating his first meal in a long time, devours her pussy. His hands hold her legs open and his tongue laps up all her juices, while she’s fisting the duvet behind her, arching her back in the most sinful way. Everything feels so fucking good right now and when she looks for just a second she sees Luke grinding against his sheets while he sucks on her little bundle of nerves. On top of that, he fucking moans against her, the vibrations making her let out a loud scream.

She’s close already, can feel her second orgasm of the night creeping up somewhere deep inside of her. Absentmindedly, her hands tangle in Luke’s hair and give it a hard thug and she expected everything but the fucking whimper that came out of his mouth, telling her, without any words, to do it again and again and again… so she does, fisting his hair and rocking her hips against him while he sucks on her clit, so hard it has stars dancing in front of her eyes. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He licks her through her orgasm, moaning loudly as well. He doesn’t stop until she’s whining, crying and shaking for him to stop. Kells is still sitting behind them, hand in Fleurs hair while he strokes himself lazily. 

She’s coming down slowly, breathing heavily and looking for the two men in the room with her. “How do you want us?” Kells asks, suddenly next to her. Fleur is dizzy, needy and aching to finally be filled. Trying to articulate a sentence, to let both of them know that they could do whatever the fuck they want to her as long as their hands don’t leave her sweaty hot skin, she fails miserably. The only thought prominent on her mind right now being her idol and her best friends using her body in downright filthy ways, at the same time, in whichever way they choose. Soft lips close in on her nipple, the sudden cold wetness a contrast to her hot skin. With her eyes slowly opening, Fleur notices Luke to her right, his fingers stroking his rock hard cock while Kells on her left side is desperately trying to draw her attention back to him by digging his hands into her side, grabbing her hard as he sucks on her most sensitive spot. 

“Poor baby, look fucked she is Luke.. maybe we should just leave. Think we’ve been super generous today, haven’t we? Two orgasms should be plenty.” His tone suggests that Colson does not plan on being anywhere near done with his new prized possession, Fleur however, in her fucked out state, does not seem too okay with the possibility of not getting what she was singing up for all along. “Nooo, please sir.” Her voice comes out raspy, an aftermath of swallowing down Luke’s dick not too long ago. A quiet “need more” follows right after, hands reaching out to Kells and Luke on either side of her. The two singers immediately make eye contact as a soft chuckle forms on the younger one's lips. “Aren’t you a little selfish, baby?” His usually honeysweet voice seems to be dripping with evil intentions. “You only take, take, take… look at Kells. Have you touched him at all tonight, huh? Bet he’s been dying to stuff you with his cock all night and you have just given him zero attention.” Knowing looks are being exchanged between the two males, as if they have done this sort of thing a million times before. “Honestly Luke, why am I even asking? Pretty sure Fleur is gonna be a good little slut for us and take us however we want her.” 

It’s dark in the room, however the rapper does not miss the shiver that runs through Fleur’s body at his words. He waits for a signal, anything to let him know he was wrong about his assumption and nothing follows except the quietest moan… he’s done for. Crashing his lips onto hers like it’s the last thing he would ever fucking do in his life, Colson takes control again, pressing Fleurs tiny body deeper into the mattress. The little whispers between the two men go unnoticed by her, so does Luke grabbing certain objects from his nightstand. “Look at me.” She watches Kells rip open a condom with his teeth before taking a first closer look at his massive dick resting between her thighs, the last bit of dominance that was still within her slowly withering away. What the fuck did she get herself into here? “I can’t wait to fuck that tight little pussy, ruin it for everyone but us.” “Next time you even think about going over to Matt’s house, I bet you’ll only be thinking about this. Will just get disappointed by everyone but us, will forever think about this-” Luke drags the last word out with his hands around her throat. Him bringing up the hookup with one of their mutual friends stings and she is about to say something before catching herself again. She is at their mercy and scolding her best friend right now when he has been nothing but an angel to her all night does not seem fair to her, not even in the headspace she is in right now. 

Not with the stickiness of her two previous orgasms and her momenteral arousal slicking up her thighs and sore entrance. Contracting her pussy around the cool air in Luke’s room, she would not dare disobey any of them right now, just needing to be filled. Having waited so long for the past hour, she closes her eyes in anticipation, goosebumps decorating her brown skin. “Babydoll, look at daddy when he stuffs you with his cock,” Luke whispers, hand slowly stroking his dick and watching the scenario in front of him play out. His other hand holds Fleurs head up, wrapped around her throat so the woman can easily watch as the second man in the room pushes forward, engulfing himself in her wet heat. 

The moan that leaves her lips is straight-up pornographic- loud, needy and echoing around the room. So erotic that Kells loses himself in it, the sound going straight to his aching dick that is being gripped by Fleurs tight cunt like a viper grabs her victim. Ready to devour him and so deliciously full of him, none of them notice they are holding their breath until he breathes out “Holy shit, god. You feel so fucking tight.” Gushing around him it’s like he can feel her heartbeat even through the condom as he gives his first thrust deep into her. “That’s it, baby. Taking him so well,” Luke whispers into her ear, simultaneously wiping the tears that run down her cheek away. Fleur feels so positively full with Kells’ head bumping directly into her cervix and giving her that sweet sting she knew she’d feel as soon as she laid eyes on him. She can’t control the tears of pleasure that stream from her eyes as he sets a brutal pace while Luke holds her fragile body in place. It feels as if there are hands all over her body, touching her, feeling her, pleasuring her. 

She’s floating somewhere up there, she’s sure of it as Colson suddenly stills all the way inside of her to catch his breath, dick throbbing. Her legs wrapped around his waist shake, pulling him in closer. She doesn’t mean to, never ever, but with everything going on right in front of her she doesn’t realize Luke leaves his spot. Doesn’t realize he hands Colson the bottle of lube, who slowly pulls out of her. “Ride me, angel.” Luke demands from next to her, laying down on his mattress. “Yes sir.” Fleur replies, just needing that feeling of being full again. Her entire body aches from the previous orgasms, her thighs burning as she swings her leg over Luke’s muscular thighs, straddling him quickly. “Keep calling me sir and we might just fill up that pretty little pussy, darling.” An involuntary moan slips past her lips at the thought, her wet lips slowly sliding over Luke’s erection that pressed up against his stomach. He hisses and throws his head back the same moment Kells gathers Fleurs hair in a makeshift ponytail and pulls on it- enough to make it sting and inevitably enough to get her attention. “You better stop teasing right fucking now and sit on his dick, do you understand me?” 

Luke’s hands dig into her hips, making sure to leave marks that will be visible to anyone that tries to touch their little brat for the next few days. The thought makes his heart race, both in anticipation and anxiety… remains of him, her best fucking friend, and Colson being on her body as another guy enjoys her the way they are doing right now. All his senses are on high alert, skin feeling on fire as Fleur positions him against her entrance and slowly sinks down on his cock, juices coating him and pooling around his base. In his fucked out state he just now realizes he never thought of grabbing a condom and he wants to say something, it’s a thought slowly making its way from the back of his mind to the front, threatening to spill past his lips until- 

“Fuck Luke…” It’s not the pet name she’s been using all night, it’s not for Kells’ enjoyment, it’s only meant for him as his dick pulses inside of her wet, warm cunt. His best friend gasps, hands tangling in the singers damp curls and it feels like heaven to him, so snug around him he can feel her fucking heartbeat against his dick. “M-Move, flower.” Colsons lips capture hers as she slowly starts moving, making sure to go all the way up until he almost slips out, teasing him, before sliding back down on his thick erection. All those years of them being friends and she just now asks herself why the hell they haven’t done this sooner? When he looks so ethereal below her. The curls, the full, plump lips of his, everything about him screaming angelic. Whereas the man next to her with his fully tattooed body and mean demeanor gets her off just the same, his hand now grabbing her neck as he settles in behind her. The pace she settles for is slow, almost torture for the blonde on the bottom who just feels like he needs more. More of her wetness coating his dick, more of the moans she tries to stifle everytime he’s deep inside her. The good friend act, the fucking soft act he’s kept up all evening is wearing thin but what finally pushes him over the edge is when she chuckles, almost fucking laughs at him shuddering when she lets his dick almost slip out and the cool air hits his sensitive tip. 

Her face is buried in his neck, not being able to read his facial expression. Colson however grins to himself, visibly noticing Luke’s whole demeanor change. In one swift motion, Luke pulls Fleur down until she’s flush against him, his dick pressing hard against her cervix. A loud moan echoes through the room, thighs trembling against him. She tries to move away from him, her best friend being too fucking deep inside of her but both Luke and Colson are keeping her in place. “I’ve fucking had it with you. If you wanna act like a brat I will fuck you like one.” “You’re too nice for that.” And she almost instantly regrets it the moment the six words leave her mouth. Based on the expression on Luke’s face she knew he wasn’t playing from the beginning but now she’s really in for it and she’s almost positive Colson and Luke will both ensure she afeels pleasure like she’s never felt it before. 

“See, babygirl. We were gonna be nice, you know…” Luke���s voice is dangerously calm and it has her on edge. She opens her mouth to say something but just the shake of his head makes her decide against it. And suddenly she hates how obedient she is in his lap, dick still filling her to the brim. He sits up, face now inches away from hers and she can make out his darkened eyes. You could hear a pin drop in the room right now, the atmosphere tense. One sound, a cap being popped open behind her makes her aware of the other person in the room being much closer than she thought he was, wanting to turn around but Luke captures her face with his right hand. “Eyes on me.” A whine builds up in her throat, her hips slowly grinding against him because it’s painful how wet and desperate she is at this point. She wishes Luke would just fuck her, do something, anything and she wishes Colson would let her suck his dick while Luke pounds into her. “We were gonna be nice and take you one at a time. Didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed… but baby, tell me. What’s the point of having two dicks in the same room as you if you don’t have both of them inside of you at the same time?”

It’s like her heart skips a beat as her mind drifts to places she’s never explored before. She wants to tell him no, that’s too much. She could barely handle Colson abusing her little pussy, how was she supposed to take both of them at the same time? But Fleur looks at Luke and behind his hard expression his eyes soften a little. He’s her best friend who has known her for years. Why would he do anything to her he knew she couldn’t handle? Luke’s got some dark thoughts that he plans on executing within the next hour but he’s not a monster, far from it actually. Meanwhile Colson settles in behind her, softly kissing her neck all the way from her ear down to her shoulders as his hot breath fans over her skin. His tattooed arm wraps around her and grabs her left boob, teeth slightly sinking into her collarbone. If it wasn’t for this short distraction she surely would have noticed his head nudging her hole, about to press in, right next to Luke’s dick already inside of her. He hisses next to her ear, a guttural groan following immediately after once he pushes in, her pussy impossibly tighter this time. “O-oh my ffuuu-“ It dies in her throat, not that she could have said more anyways as Luke pulls his best friend down, kissing her passionately and pulling her flush against his chest so it’s easier for Colson to reach deeper.

He’s nestled right in there, stilling for a second before Luke pushes up, hands holding Fleur in place by her ass so he can move alongside his new, tall friend. “Holy fucking shit, that feels good,” Kells breathes out quietly. “Isn’t that little pussy squeezing us so tight, Luke?” He sounds completely fucked, his head pressing right against that spot that has their girl of the night seeing stars. She can’t think straight, pain and pleasure overtaking every other sensation she could be feeling that very moment. But Luke is holding her so tight and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, kissing her head and pushing her hair to the side so it would not interfere with her breathing. “Best one I ever had, Kells. Such a good little whore for us, aren’t you baby?” It’s more like a rhetorical question since he knows his best friend is too far gone to answer with anything but a lewd moan anyways. One hand presses down on her stomach, almost making her cum right then and there. They establish a diabolic rhythm, one of them pulling back while the other drives themselves deeper and deeper into her dripping cunt over and over again. It’s excruciating and Fleur feels like she’s on fire, her orgasm building and building as she’s being fucked at a slow pace but with determination from both of them. It’s like their hands are all over her and she probably couldn’t tell which ones belong to who, just that someone feels her shake and sob against the younger ones chest and decides to rub the swollen bud between her legs, dripping wet. Right where she wanted it the most this entire time. “Gonna cum on our cocks, huh? Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to actually be properly fucked?” It’s like Luke can’t control what he says, his best friends pussy and Colson rubbing against him making it way harder not to cum on the spot. But he needs to hold on, desperately needs to see the look on her face when she cums first. “Y-yes sir.. yes daddy.. please please l-let me.” Fleur whimpers, so fucking close and just waiting for their permission to tip right over the edge. A harsh smack being delivered to her left asscheek by Colson is exactly what does it in combination with their dicks hitting her cervix once again, his thumb still rubbing circles over her and Luke stilling inside of her, digging her nails into her waist. 

Her pussy pulsing and squeezing him is almost enough for him to shoot his load into her, and a lot of it. Calming himself down, he breathes in and out heavily, trying so hard not to think about the way her eyes squeeze shut and- wetness coating his thighs? A dark chuckle follows from behind, followed by Colson pulling out of her slowly, his dick still rock hard. “Did you just fucking squirt on us baby? Made a proper mess on Luke’s damn bed, didn’t you?” Luke lifts her up gently, sliding out of her- much to her dismay which she lets him know with a quiet whine, suddenly feeling so empty. “I’m sorry bro, but I need to taste her.. am dying to stuff my face in that cunt and taste how fucking sweet she is.” Colson lets them know, more directed at Luke than Fleur. “No, I c-can’t… sens-sensitive.” She tries to argue but to no avail, Colson’s mind is made up. “Shhh princess, Kells just wants a little taste.” He turns her around on him, her backside now against his chest while the rapper kneels down between both their legs. The moment his tongue comes in contact with her clit she’s thrashing around on top of him, trying to get away from the tall man who has his face buried in her pussy, lapping up her juices. Luke holds her in place, kisses her head and inhales the scent of her freshly washed hair while watching the scenario in front of him unfold. While he is glad for this little distraction to recover for a minute or two, his dick is still painfully hard and throbbing, Fleurs ass moving against it not making it much better. 

Stars dance in front of her eyes as the woman tries to control her breathing, too overwhelmed with Colson sucking and moaning against her. “If you don’t stop fucking moving, Luke and I will coax another five orgasms out of you, I don’t give a damn if that means we’ll be here all fucking night.” His tone is mean, demanding and almost threatening. “If I wanna taste our pussy, you will let me.” With that he is back to devouring her, nails digging into her soft thighs and leaving marks behind. What scares her the most is not another orgasm, it’s the fact that the orgasm is being delivered by no one other than her favorite singer who already made her explode on his dick before. And if she does that again in his face, she might as well just dig her own grave. Little does Fleur know that is just what he has been trying to achieve all along, fingers slipping inside of her and expertly finding her sweet spot. Her soft cries of overstimulation mix with the wet slurping sounds of his mouth, sucking and licking all over her. “Can feel you squeezing my finger, you wanna make a mess all over daddy again?” He speaks, breath fanning over her oh so sensitive clit. “N-no Ke-Kells, I-” Instantly a quick slap is being delivered to her thigh, the sting traveling up to her already sensitive pussy. “That’s not my name. Try again.” And she is so close, the muscles in her lower abdomen contracting as she grinds against Kells’ face, just wanting that one final push that he delivers with his mouth closing around her most sensitive area and his ring- and middle finger curling inside her. “Daddy!” It hits Fleur like a train, ears ringing, muscles spasming and liquid gushing out of her once again. Over the bed, over his fingers, over Luke, over Kells’ face. Helping her ride out her orgasm, the older man of the two kisses her thighs softly, rubbing the rest of her arousal all over pussy

“I know you’re so sensitive right now baby, I get it. But I think Kells and I really really wanna fill you up. Gonna let us use that pretty cunt one last time? Been dying to cum in you.” Hazy eyes stare up at him and even though it feels hard for her to move, four orgasms really taking a toll on the poor girl, she nods. That’s what she has been fantasizing about all night, since Luke walked into the room to discard his wine stained shirt, leaving all his girls and the few girls lusting over him out in his living room. “Need to hear you say it, lovie.” He’s gentle this time. His tip, covered in precum, nudging against her opening and just waiting for her verbal confirmation. “Need you Lu… need you Kells.” It’s barely a whisper but Luke lets it slide, coating himself in her arousal once more before pushing in from below her, Fleurs back still against his chest.

Kells wraps his hand around her neck, gently now, making her watch his long, hard dick sliding into her for the last time that night. He comes to think that she looks so tiny like this, sandwiched between the two skinny 6’3 tall men, the thought alone bringing him close to filling her up like he’s been wanting to for hours. It does not help that he can see their outlines, a slight bulge in her lower belly from the two cocks stretching her out. He thinks he’s done for, losing the rhythm he settled in with Luke, breathing quickening. “Gonna fuck that cum so deep into you.” He growls, tightening his hold on her neck. Fleur tries to reply, tries to focus on the pleasure of him still being inside of her but nothing is working anymore. Everything hurts in a good way and she knows that there is no way she’s going back out to that party later. She knows that this time they really can’t force another orgasm out of her fragile body, not that she needs it. Fleur just needs to feel their cum inside of her, dripping out of her, the soreness for the next few days, all of it. Even Luke is barely holding on by a thread, stilling inside of her and just letting his coworker push in past him, rubbing so deliciously against both of them. “Holy shit. Gonna put our babies inside of you, baby, yeah? You want that?” Luke has no idea what came over him but it seems to be affecting her when she clenches around them and lets out a pornographic moan.

Luke cums first, having edged himself all night, and coats her walls with spurts of cum, seemingly never ending. The whine that leaves his mouth is downright sinful and so so hot to her ears as it mixes with Colsons sounds of pleasure. “Fuck fuck fuck” He breathes out loudly, releasing right after and burying himself in her to the hilt. Thick ribbons of cum fill up her vagina, an evidence of both of them actually being there… an evidence that she actually just fucked her idol and best friend at the same time. For a short period of time she registers nothing until a warm, wet cloth brings her back to reality, both of them kneeling down between her thighs and staring at her with a worried expression. “There you are love… did so well for us. Took us like a champ, we’re so proud of you.” Luke presses a soft kiss to her nose as the other man wipes off the residue of them from her thighs. “Gonna kick everyone out,” he mumbles, more to Kells than to her. “You staying with her?” It’s supposed to be a question but the way he words it leaves no option for no.

The second Luke puts on his pants and a fresh shirt, Colson pulls the blanket over her naked frame, letting her cuddle into his side. 

“Sleep. We’ll be there when you wake up.” 

[bisousbabe]

─── ─── ─── ☽ ◯ ☾ ─── ─── ───

─── ─── ─── ☽ ◯ ☾ ─── ─── ───

Pairing: woojin x reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: detailed smut. small fluff parts if you squint.

Author’s Notes: again, this post and anything on this account is for the 18+ community. MDNI. Also, it’s not proof read, so there’s that, lol. Hope you enjoy this one too.

NSFW ALPHABET

A: Aftercare

He’s a talker. Sometimes he doesn’t know when to stop— but after sex and aftercare, he says the sweetest things and praises you to no end. Followed my face kisses. He truly adores you and these are one of those times he’ll show you everything.

B: Body Part (favorite body part on you)

There’s no other way to say it. This guy is 200% a boob lover. He can’t stop staring at your breast, especially when you’re getting dressed. Doesn’t matter how you think they look. He loves them and can’t keep his hands to himself.

C: Cum

Messy, boy. Woo-jin loves cumming on your breast. For whatever reason, it just turns him on knowing that he’s made a mess on you. And when you become an even bigger tease and smear his cum over your breast, he absolutely loses his mind.

D: Dirty Secret

This man can’t keep a secret to save his life. He’s completely open about what he does and doesn’t like and what he’s done.

He’s asked before doing them and when you’ve given him the green light, he’ll jump right at the chance. He even allowed you to go through his phone —smirking the entire time as you scroll through it— you dound pictures of you. Well.. what’s under your skirt. The second you’re in a skirt or dress, he’ll snap one or two pictures. It’s even to the point where he’d tell you how pretty it looks and if you’re not wearing panties, you’re not leaving the house.

The whole ordeal makes you blush, but knowing that’s what he has in his phone turns you into a flustered little mess of shyness and arousal.

E: Experience

Somewhat experienced. He’s had a few partners here and there, so he knows what to do and where everything is, but when you two first slept together he’d always want you and only you.

F: Favorite Position

Now, although he’s obsessed with your breast, he can’t help but fuck you from behind. Backshots is the way to go.

Most of it has to do with how pretty you sound to him when screaming his name. First time he got that reaction from you, he knew he’d never be able to get enough.

G: Gentle

When he’s making love to you. That’s when he’s the most gentle with you and that’s how you both love it. He’s a strong man who has complete control over himself, so knowing he’s holding back to caress every inch of you makes you fall for him even harder.

H: Hair ( how well groomed they are )

Woojin shaves completely. It’s not that you nor he has a problem with hair, he just sweats a lot and thinks it’s best if there’s none there.

I: Intimacy

Extremely passionate— regardless with how easy it is to dominate you in bed, whether it’s mindless fucking or making love. There’s passion in everything he does to and for you.

J: Justification (reasons they give to have sex)

He’s horny for you. The more domestic things you do together, the more he wants you. Cooking dinner together— he’ll find someway to fuck you against the table after. Doing laundry? You’re pressed against that old, vibrating washing machine, taking everything he’s giving you.

K: Kinks

There’s a few. Both of you can’t help but to want these things equally.

• katoptronophilia- you both have come to like watching yourselves have sex in front of a mirror. it happened when you were picking him up late at night from the gym and neither one of you could take your eyes off your reflections.

• impact play- he’ll only spank you. you secretly loved it and when he first did the lewdest moan left your lips. now you two tease each other about you getting “spankings” and him just slapping your ass always seems to get you two started.

L: Locaation (their favorite place to do it)

At the gym— AFTER HOURS— because there’s big mirrors where you two can watch yourself go at it like feral fiends.

M: Masturbation

When he can’t be around you for a few days because of business or training for the boxing championship, he’ll take care of himself but there’s just something about mutual masturbation. Letting you watch him stroke himself to the thought of you just as you rub your clit at the sight turn him on. He doesn’t understand how you can be so sexy.

N: No (things he will not do, turn offs, etc.)

Woojin is quite adventurous. He’ll try anything once and as long as you’re okay with doing it. If it’s not something one of or neither of you like, then it’s an absolute no.

Sex is intimate and should be enjoyed and consensual with both parties. That’s all there is to it and he wants you to feel safe and comfortable just as much as you want the same for him.

O: Oral (giving or receiving, skills)

Mister can’t stop talking has the mouth of a god. First time he even went down on you, it was the most quietest you’ve ever seen him been— apart from the moans and whines that slip from his full mouth.

He’s pussydrunk and could eat you out for hours. If you don’t stop him— you’d be a tremble and babbling mess from the sensitivity from orgasming repeatedly.

P: Possessive (how possessive is he)

Woojin is very possessive. 100/10.

If he sees another man in your vicinity, he’s watching like a hawk. If they get too close or touch you, he’s right there wrapping his arm around your waist or placing his hand on the small of your back.

When you’re alone, you tell him that he doesn’t have to worry and he doesn’t. He completely trust you but he wants to hear how you’re his and his only.

Q: Quickie

If there’s a bathroom, you two are sneaking off. It might not always be sex in itself— it can be oral, handjob/fingering or even basically dry humping each other til you cum.

He wants you just as much as you want him and sometimes you just need to help each other release to focus.

R: Risk

He’s very respectful, with the light praise when you two have sex but.. dirty talk is a risk he wanted to take. He wondered how you’d react to it.

You both have spoken about it before but never paid much attention to doing it, so with enough courage and blinded by complete lust and want for you he started to dirty talk. It caught you off guard but once he started it was mind blowing.

It started off as teasing, but then it became filthy and detailed. No man has ever made you feel so aroused. Commenting on the lewd sounds of your moans, how wet you were and how you covered his cock in your arousal. He even ordered you to orgasm and just like that, you came on demand.

You guys don’t do it all the time, but somehow he knows when to talk to you in such a way.

S: Stamina

Woojin can go all night. If not the same amount of stamina, he has more than you and will wear you out. Leaving you completely fucked out and satisfied, something no other man has even been able to do for you.

T: Tease ( how likey they are to tease, etc. )

Tease is Woojin’s middle name. He LOVES to tease you verbally and through text. It always catches you off guard and he knows that. You feel your face heat up, your mind begins to wander and the next thing you know, you’re becoming a shy mess.

When we you two see each other, he repeats and does everything he teased you about, with that smirk you love so much.

U: Unique ( any unique marks on their bodies. scars, birthmarks, etc. )

After being stabbed multiple times, it definitely left scars in its wake. At first he was a bit insecure about them. But the more you caressed them and told him how handsome he was regardless of them, he’d have his shirt off in front of you.

Feeling the tips of your fingers brush and lightly scratch over them always makes him shudder in pleasure.

V: Volume ( how loud they get)

Loud. He doesn’t care how loud he is or who hears him. Woojin wants you to know that you make him feel good, that you feel good wrapped around him. Deep and breathlessly, moaning your name as he takes you in any and every position.

W: Width (how big is he)

Thick. When you first seen it, you were more than sure he wouldn’t fit and when you both tried to have sex for the first time, it didn’t.

It took lots of prepping and he made you cum more times than you have in one setting but still as he slowly pushed into you, he had your thighs trembling. You were definitely a mumbling and whiny mess.

X: X-Ray (underneath their clothes)

Tall, sunkissed, slim, lightly muscular and fit. One simply can’t keep their eyes off him.

Y: Yearning ( how high is their sex drive, how much do they want you)

High. Woojin has never wanted anyone as much as he wants you. Sometimes he can’t even explain it and all he can do is profess his love and desire for you and worship you completely. He’s doesn’t care who’s watching.

Z: zzz ( how quickly they fall asleep)

Woojin can go for hours and follow up with aftercare but once your hand finds its way into his hair he’s out like a light. You’ve always had that effect on him.

[miraclewoozi]

UNDER THE COLLAR. -l.sm

your unlucky-in-love best friend goes on a date with someone who, by all accounts, should be his perfect person. so... how exactly do you end up being the one who tucks his sorry, drunk ass into bed?

pairing; lee seokmin x gn!reader.  (he calls reader pretty once but that is all<3) content; fluff / some mild angst towards the middle / pining / friends to… still friends but with some ~tension~ and a snuggle? w/c; 4.6k and a smidge. warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption (offscreen), drunkenness, some suggestiveness (MINORS DNI), reader has some hard thoughts, a bit of affectionate touching but nothing deliberately sexual? seok is needy and cuddly (and a terrible flirt). let me know if i've forgotten anything! note; this was originally gonna be part of a mini-series/multi-chap situation but!! i ended up hating the full thing and only being attached to like. two parts of it lol so here we are! there could potentially be a second part to this? if people want it? i don’t know yet! but this kinda just works as it’s own standalone thing anyway i think~ happy sunday <3

The first text comes through just after you finally set your phone down on the bedside table. Your eyes are dry and have started to sting from a long evening staring at screens, your bones feel impossibly heavy, and you think maybe you’re settling down for a semi-decent night’s sleep when you hear the buzz of a notification. A buzz you initially plan to ignore. It can’t be anything that important: who would be trying to reach you at this time of night, anyway? 

You roll away from the device and snuggle down into your pillows, pulling the sleeves of your — his — jumper down over your palms and resting them just in front of your face. This particular garment stopped smelling like Seokmin after the second time it went through your washing machine, but there’s a familiarity in the slightly rough inner lining that makes you want to wear it to sleep in every night, forever. He never liked it when his hoodies were too new, too soft, leaving balls of fluff all over his t-shirts and vests; you don’t know when you started to feel the same way, but you’ve realised recently that you do.

Your eyes flutter closed and your body relaxes, head starting to feel fuzzy in that calm, white-noise, lovely way. You haven’t felt this tired and genuinely sleepy for… months. It’s bliss. 

And then your phone buzzes again. You squeeze your eyes tighter, determined not to lose this warm, comfortable feeling, but your phone vibrates and vibrates and vibrates and with an audible groan, you sit back up, reaching over to see what, exactly, is so damn important at 02:23 in the fucking morning.

Seokmin’s contact name flashes up on the lock screen and you see that there are seven unread messages from him in the space of the last 3 minutes. Instantly, your brows draw together: he’s seldom shied away from a double text, but you’ve never known him to pull a septuple, and you can’t feel but feel a little bit of dread in your stomach as you read through them. 

> seokmin: yn

> seokmin: ynnnnnn

> seokmin: i lied

> seokmin: i didmt go homr yet

> seokmin: can you come get mr

> seokmin: mr

> seokmin: m e

You shoot back a message instantly asking where he is, turning on your bedside lamp and already swinging your legs out from under the covers. You keep hold of your phone in one hand, waiting for it to buzz again to tell you he’s given you his location. With the other, you search for and pull on some sweatpants, sliding into a pair of sneakers. His replies come simultaneously too quickly, and entirely not fast enough.

> seokmin: u knkw the bar in town with the bear statiiue oitside

> seokmin: lol

> seokmin: do you think i ciuld beat thsi bear in s fight???

> y/n: christ. okay, wait inside for me. i’ll be there in 15. 

> y/n: also, no. you couldn’t. x

Your veins feel alive with adrenaline and worry as you grab your keys and head down the stairs to your car. The drive is quiet — you don’t even waste the few seconds it would take to plug into the AUX and pick a playlist, leaving it up to the radio to keep you company on the way. It doesn’t take too long: soon enough, you’re pulling up alongside the infamous bear statue to find your best friend sitting on the curb, propped up against the marble base.

“I thought I told you to wait inside?” you chide, rolling down the passenger side window so you can announce your arrival. It’s like he’s moving in slow-motion, or maybe your words just take an extra few seconds to reach him? Either way, he doesn’t lift his head until a silence has settled between you, and he doesn’t smile until his slightly glazed-over eyes land on your face.

“Y/n!” He cheers, lifting himself off the floor and staggering upright, pushing a hand through his hair. “Hi! Yeah, I know — but look, it was too hot in there. It was so hot. And I didn’t want you to wait-…” Hiccup. “To have to wait for me.” 

He slides into the passenger seat with a contented sigh, a mess of long limbs he can’t quite control, adjusting the vent in front of him so that the cold from your air-con breezes against his flushed cheeks. As he settles, you reach over him, pulling his seatbelt across his chest. 

“I was getting to that,” he whines, pouting his pretty lips at you, and you click the belt in place with a laugh. History tells you that when he’s drunk, Seokmin doesn’t always believe in the power of the seatbelt, among other things, so you think maybe you could be forgiven for not believing him this time.

“Okay, dumbass. Sure you were.”

He reaches down into the passenger footwell for your AUX cord, bumping his head on the dashboard and letting out an exaggerated hiss as he sits back upright. Nonetheless, he plugs his phone in and presses play on his own night-driving playlist, holding the device between both of his hands as you start off towards his place.

“So…” you prompt, because he’s staring blankly out the windscreen with a tiny smile on his lips and you’re concerned that maybe, this time, he has actually managed to drink himself stupid. He rolls his head over to look at you, and fond bliss is written into every line of his face. “What happened?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, still just… staring at you as you drive. Staring, even though every detail of you is committed to his memory already. Staring, even though he knows how your eyelashes flutter when you blink. Even though he knows how the muscles in your throat bob as you swallow the saliva on your tongue. Even though he’s sat in your passenger seat enough times to remember exactly how the late-night glow of the street-lamps overhead catch and illuminate the curve of your nose, how they highlight the point of your chin. He knows all this, but he can’t help himself. Staring is… indulgent. So, so indulgent. But he is pretty drunk and he can get away with it when you’re focused on the road — at least, that’s what he tells himself.  

When he does attempt to speak, just as you slow to a stop at a set of traffic lights, the sparkle in his gaze falters. He faces forward again, shoulders rising and slumping in a meek ‘I don’t know’.

“She was… perfect, I think,” he tries to explain, and you glance across to look at him; his lips are both non-existent, pulled between his teeth and he has worry lines creasing up his forehead. With the hand not holding the wheel, you reach over, pressing your fingertips to where his eyebrows have scrunched to try and get him to relax the muscles there. It sort of works, if only because he releases an involuntary breath of a laugh.

“Not perfect,” you gasp, dramatic and teasing even though it stings a little to hear him say that out loud. “I mean, that definitely explains why you were out drinking, alone, three hours after you told me you were heading home.” He turns his head fully away from you, now, letting your hand drop dangerously towards his lap. You pull it back to yourself before it collides with his jeans, clearing your throat. The traffic signal changes to green, and you drive ahead. “I’m kidding. Come on. Talk to me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, despondent, crossing his arms over his chest. You’re not sure you’ve seen him acting like this since you were teenagers. It’s a strange twist away from your usual, very easy-going banter.

“Seok...” You try again. “I won’t stop for nuggets if you don’t tell me.” 

“Don’t stop, then.”

“Seokmin…”

“Don’t-…” It comes out quickly, the vein in the side of his neck popping until he takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly. “Y/n. I’m tired, I just-… I don’t wanna talk about it. Can you please just… take me home?”

He’s still struggling with his words, but he isn’t abrasive in the way he speaks; that’s something you learned about Seokmin very early on in your friendship. He doesn’t raise his voice at you. He doesn’t get deep and gravelly when he’s pissed off. He just… seems to let himself feel things super intensely for a few seconds at a time and then he short-circuits, goes flat. It might be convenient for him, but it gets frustrating for you. Especially when he encourages you to open up to him as much as he does. 

His head is bowed and cradled in his hands when you pull up outside his apartment block, and you unfasten his seatbelt for him which jolts him upright. You stay facing front, though, guilt coursing through your veins at the thought of maybe having pushed him too far. You just want to understand. Why was his date being good such a bad thing?

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” 

You shake your head. “Don’t be,” you tell him, and he scoffs, but quietly.

“Y/n,” he sighs, his crown falling against the headrest; he reaches over to you, places a hand just above your knee, and you try to ignore how it feels like someone has crashed their car into you from behind. How your heart lurches forwards in your chest. How your adrenaline spikes.

“I mean it. I shouldn’t have kept pushing. I’m sorry.”

He chews this over for a moment, but he doesn’t remove his hand, and you find that maybe you don’t want him to. Not yet, at least.

“Will you help me get up the stairs?”

“Of course I will.”

With one of his arms over your shoulders, your own supporting his waist, the pair of you begin the obnoxiously long ascent up through his building to his apartment. He’s lived here for a year and a half, and you think maybe the elevator has been working… for a total of about a week, since then? God forbid he ever got injured and couldn’t climb six flights just to get himself home. The climb is bad enough as is.

Somewhere around landing number four, Seokmin pulls away from you, mumbling something about having the spins and needing to sit down. You ease him to perch on one of the windowsills, sitting down next to him with your arm still around his hips to keep him balanced on the narrow ledge.

“You should’ve taken me back to your place,” he grumbles, doubling over with his elbows against his knees and his fingers linked behind his neck, taking deep breaths.

“Get your feet flat on the floor. Look at your shoelaces. Breathe slow. It’ll help,” you coo, and he shuffles a little so that he can do exactly that (not without wobbling and almost landing on his face, and he thanks you and your “super strong arms” for keeping him from such a fate). After a few more seconds of deep breathing and grounding, he lifts his head. Crisis averted.

“Are you-… like, a witch, or something?” he asks out of nowhere, and you snort so loudly that your throat hurts. He keeps staring at you, waiting for you to answer. Apparently your laugh wasn’t response enough.

“What are you talking about, Seok?” 

He rolls his eyes at you, as if you should just know. “How did you know how to fix me? It’s like magic.”

“Because I know you, stupid. Come on. Two more flights and I’ll get you into bed.”

“S’that a promise?” he asks, grinning to himself as you haul him back to standing, and he stumbles slightly against you, hands braced on your ribs. Sweating a little, you manoeuvre yourself away from him, landing a gentle, playful hit to his side. 

It doesn’t make your heart flutter, hearing what can only be a drunk rendition of his bedroom voice. It doesn’t. It doesn’t. It doesn’t.

“Save it for your next date with Ms. Perfect, would you?”

“Agh. You’re the worst.”

“I know. Now come on.”

After a few minutes of fumbling through Seokmin’s pockets yourself for his keys (it’s as if he’s forgotten how both hands and pockets work in his now very giggly stupor), apparently brushing every single one of his ticklish spots on the way, you’re inside his apartment and on your knees, untying his shoes for him, easing them off his feet. You don’t think he can be trusted to lean down to do it on his own without breaking something.

Or himself.

“If you go get ready for bed, I’ll bring you some water?” you suggest, sitting back on your heels, smiling up at him. There’s a weight in the gaze he’s looking down at you with, in the way his tongue darts out over his lips, and how his mouth doesn’t fully close after. You tell yourself he’s definitely only looking at you like this because he’s drunk, because you’re helping him — the boy doesn’t know ass from elbow, right now — but there’s no escaping the fact that your stomach drops a little at his intensity.

“Okay,” he strains after a moment, and you stand up and away from him, kicking off your own shoes. He heads in one direction towards his bedroom, and you move in the other towards his kitchen. 

Stop it, you tell yourself, leaning over the sink and splashing cold water from the faucet onto your face. Stop thinking about him like that. He’s your best friend. Stop it.

But… shit, you can’t get those big brown eyes out of your head. The way he looked down at you, the softness of his brows, the heat radiating off him. There’s nothing you can do to stop the way your thighs press together standing in his kitchen, in clothes that— you realise now— are entirely his. The hoodie. The sweatpants you pulled on. They’re an old pair that he let you steal just after your most recent breakup, when you’d stayed on his couch for a week straight just so you didn’t have to look at how ugly and empty your own apartment was. Everything. Even down to the socks.

You thought it was hard enough hearing that he was going out for dinner to your favourite restaurant with someone who wasn’t you; nothing could have prepared you for standing in his kitchen at three in the morning, hot under the collar over five seconds of tipsy eye contact, knowing he’s getting undressed behind the door you’ve been staring at for… minutes, now. Actual minutes. 

Oh, you think, feeling your blood run cold. 

Oh. 

I want him.

More minutes pass as you stew in this information — in the knowledge that you’re fucking desperate for the man who has been there for you through everything important enough to remember, and probably everything you’ve forgotten, too. The boy who took you to all of your school dances and was the perfect date, the perfect gentleman, the perfect partner. The man who has sat next to you in the doctor’s waiting room more times than you can count, waiting for results and sitting outside appointments that he told you that you were brave enough to book. Seokmin, who has been under your nose this entire fucking time — you want him, the man who went for dinner with his dream woman, today, and he said she was perfect. Acid burns the back of your throat as you fight not to run all the way back down to your car.

Fuck. It gets astronomically worse. I love him.

“Y/n?” you hear, and his whiny, gentle voice glides across the apartment like it’s been mounted on a cloud, blown straight into your ears. It floats around in your brain in the most beautiful way, and you think there could be love-hearts in the reflections on your eyes even despite the stress you’re now under. It occurs to you that his faucet is still running, and you still have two empty glasses sitting on the counter. How long has it been? Get it together. 

“Just a second,” you call back. Your voice breaks as you say it and you can hear him fucking giggle from behind the ajar door to his bedroom. The fluttering in your stomach worsens, and by the time you’ve shut off the tap and you’re walking through to him, you’re wondering if it’s possible for people to grow butterfly gardens inside themselves without noticing. No-one has ever made you feel this nervous, before. 

Breathe, you tell yourself as he comes into view, already snuggled down against his pillows with the top of his bare chest and shoulders visible in the low light. 

Fuck. 

This is the last thing you needed.

“Hi,” he greets you, pushing to sit up with eyes softer than the glow of the setting sun. “I missed you.” 

You stand corrected. That is. 

“You’re such a loser.”

You set his glass down on his bedside and crouch next to him. “Did you brush your teeth?” you ask, and his face transforms from a stupid childish pout at being teased to a devastatingly bright grin. 

This running joke you’ve shared between yourselves since your first night on the town together illuminates him, and he nods, proudly, his hair falling down over his face. You reach up to push a few strands away from his eyes, despite yourself.

“Sure did,” he tells you, and you believe him but you raise a brow anyway. He’s so pretty. With his playful smile, tongue held between his teeth, his nose a little scrunched. Fuck, how can anyone be so pretty?

“So if I go check your toothbrush, right now…” His smile turns into a laugh, his head lifts into your lingering touch until his cheek is fully rested in the palm of your hand. Stupidly, you tell yourself that this could mean something. Maybe he wants to feel you more.  

“You could find out another way,” he says, his voice dropping half an octave as his already heavy eyelids blink slowly at you. It’s a good thing you’re already on your knees because that tone could have you sinking to the ground in a split. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth fleetingly and you think you’re one more line away from melting into the floorboards. 

“You’re so out of it,” you murmur, shaking your head at him. “Did she make you get the oysters? Are you high on aphrodisiacs right now?”

He groans again and rolls onto his back, a hand dramatically coming up to cover his eyes. 

“Stop talking about her,” he whines. “I’m with you. I don’t wanna talk— I don’t wanna think about her right now.”

“Seokmin-…”

“Y/n,” he interrupts, lolling his head to the side, looking at you through impossibly long, dark lashes from between his fingers. “Please.”

You’re not sure what the pull in his voice is in aid of but you force yourself to let it go, pushing yourself up to your feet before you can fall forwards into him.

“I’m gonna head home,” you say, the quiet between you laying thick and heavy against your skin. “Text me when you’re awake tomorrow, okay?”

He contemplates this for a second, frowning; he doesn’t say anything as you start backing towards his bedroom door. Then…

“Please don’t.”

He says it so quietly. So hushed, you think you might have misheard. So delicate, you hold your breath just in case you somehow manage to shatter the moment. 

“Don’t what?” You ask, stopping in your tracks. He breathes deep and props up on one elbow, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Don’t go.”

Glued to the spot, you stare at him. You feel your head tilt to the side without really controlling it, and an eyebrow creeps up your forehead, slowly. 

“I left some lights on in my apartment,” you say feebly, and even though it’s true, a selfish part of you hopes that he’ll still keep trying to talk you around. It won’t take a lot to convince you. It never does. 

“So?” he asks, the duvet slipping just a little further down his upper half, baring more of his chest to you. “Please. I don’t want to be-…”

You swallow, waiting. The cogs in his inebriated brain are surely rotating at a few hundred miles a minute, his eyes almost desperate. Certainly glossy. Absolutely breath-taking.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Your already fragile resolve snaps under the pressure of his words and you’re moving towards his bed before you can stop yourself. 

“I don’t have anything to sleep in,” you say, offering him one last out if he wants it, but Seokmin just shrugs and peels the duvet back for you to slip in beside him.

“Don’t care,” he mumbles, and you gesture for him to look away so, at the very least, you can shimmy out of his sweatpants. He does, and you do — a few seconds later, with the garment in question folded neatly on the floor by his bed, you’re pulling the sheets over your legs and burying down against his cushions.

His breathing matches yours inhale for exhale and the more you let yourself think about this, the worse you feel even though maybe you shouldn’t. How many times have you drunkenly shared Seokmin’s bed, or how many times has he shared yours? This isn’t new. Even sober, you’ve been curling up together on the couch to watch movies and sleeping with your heads in each other's laps for years. There’s no reason for the guilt that’s burrowing its way deep into your brain, but you can’t seem to get rid of it, no matter how hard you try.

“Y/n?” he asks after a few minutes of you lying stiff as a pair of boards, a few inches of cold mattress between your wide awake selves, both of you staring up at the ceiling. You hum an acknowledgement, and he clears his throat. “Can I hug you?”

Your heart does something you’re a little bit afraid of, but you nod in the dark anyway, before you realise he can’t really see you now all the lights are off.

“Drink some water first,” you tell him lightly. “Then you can.”

There’s something undeniably nerve-wracking about the sound of him obediently swallowing a few mouthfuls from the glass you brought him earlier, even more-so in the way he sets it back down on his dresser. The bed rustles a little as he moves towards you, the sheets shifting over your bare legs, and then he’s got an arm slung over your waist, his head is on the very edge of his pillow, right next to your own… he slides a leg over one of yours, slotting it between your calves, and before you know it, you’re completely wrapped up in him.

He’s warm, and soft, and his fingertips gently soothe circles into your waist where they’ve slipped just underneath the hem of the sweatshirt you’re still wearing. You hum gently, moving your arm so that it snakes beneath his neck, curling up to wrap around his shoulders. This close, you can smell the cologne he will have put on before meeting his date. It makes you dizzy, slows down the neurons firing away in your brain. You wonder what’s going through his own head — what he’s thinking about, being curled up against your side like this. Does he recognise the slight stuttering in your breathing? How cold you are in contrast to him? Will he even remember this, in the morning? Or will you just wake up on opposite sides of the bed tomorrow, all this just a weird, foggy memory in the dark?

His head burrows slightly closer to you and all of a sudden, you can feel him breathing. Every exhale fans against your neck, right where it feels sweetest; Seokmin breathes through his nose when he’s sober, but through his lips when he’s drunk. You’ve never noticed before. It’s maddening. 

“Comfy?” you ask, your voice dry and unsure, and he wriggles a little with a nod to affirm that yes, he is. Something about that makes your cheeks go hot.

“Always sleep better with you,” he murmurs, and your face grows even warmer. You tell yourself he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just drunk. It doesn’t help.

“Then sleep,” you say as his hand moves just slightly further up beneath the hoodie, the tips of his fingers gently tickling your lowest rib. You have to fight back a whine. “I’m here. You can sleep.”

“Thank you, y/n,” he breathes, and you turn your head: now your eyes have adjusted to the low light, you can sort of make out his features, so very close to you. This proves to be a mistake almost instantly, but you can’t look away. His eyes are closed now; you’re glad. He looks too sweet. Too peaceful.

“What for?”

“Everything.”

“Seokmin…”

“No, I mean — everything.”

You move your hand up slightly, fingers playing with the strands of his hair at the top of his neck, and he whimpers softly at the touch. You freeze, and he nuzzles back against your hand to beg you to keep going, so you do.

“You can’t thank me for everything,” you tease him, and he chuckles breathlessly, his palm now laying flat across your rib cage, curling around your side. Holding you. Claiming you, just for now.

“Can,” he protests, and you shake your head. 

“Nuh-uh. Against the rules.”

“What rules?”

“My rules.”

“I didn’t know you had rules.”

“I’ve got hundreds,” you tease, threading your fingers through his strands and gently massaging his scalp. Another whine from him, but you don’t stop. Especially not when he hugs you closer, arm and leg both tightening around you.

“Hundreds?”

“Mhm. Maybe even thousands.”

“Well. Fuck.”

You breathe a laugh at him, and he laughs back; within a few seconds, you’ve both dissolved into giggles, and Seokmin has squirmed even closer until he’s half-covering you, actively chortling into your covered collarbone.

“You’re s’posed to be getting to sleep,” you sigh as his own laughter picks back up following a few seconds of deep breathing and quiet.

“I can’t!” He says. You can feel the pout in his own voice, even with his face hidden. When did he end up practically on top of you? When did your arm slip down to around his waist? 

“You have to. You’re gonna feel so shitty tomorrow if you don’t.”

“I know. M’probably gonna feel shitty anyway, though.”

“Come on. Close your eyes. Count back from a hundred. You can do it.”

It falls silent again, and you delusionally tell yourself that maybe it’s working. Until…

“Can you lie on your side?” He asks, and you sigh dramatically but nod anyway: as he peels himself off you, you roll over, facing the wall in the foetal position. He’s right back against you in a blink though, legs tucked up behind yours, trying to find your hand under the quilt.

“S’this okay?” He asks as he accidentally brushes your thigh in his search, fingers lacing through your own when he finally succeeds. Your now joined hands work their way into the hoodie’s front pocket, and everything starts buzzing when he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Y-yeah,” you swallow. “S’good.”

“Good,” he mumbles. A few deep breaths later, his voice rumbles against your earlobe again. “You looked so pretty for me tonight, y/n. Dressed up in my clothes — you’re so pretty.”

“Go to sleep,” you whimper, grateful at least that at this angle that he doesn’t see how your face scrunches up, how wide your smile is, how ridiculously good he makes you feel.

Euphoria. This is euphoria; you never want it to end.

“Count for me,” he asks, dropping his head down so his brows rest against your back, now. So you do.

“A hundred… ninety nine… ninety eight… ninety seven…”

His breathing is slow and his grip on your hand is slack by the time you reach eighty three. You doze off too, not very far behind.

thank u for reading all the way to the end!! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always appreciated<3

[yesterdayiwrote]

Trick or treat gewis edition pls?🧡

This is part of a (currently) abandoned WIP, and so I will reward you with a longish (albeit unbeta'd and unedited) excerpt under the cut...

This was my Tour Manager George/Music Superstar Lewis AU...

Waking up with a headache was never a great start to the day.

Waking up with a headache naked was always an even worse way to start the day.

George clutched his forehead tightly, pressing his face deeper into the soft pillow and willing the dull throb behind his eyes to dissipate sooner rather than later.

He groaned softly, the room filling with the distant sounds of honking horns, revving engines and rush hour traffic, his mind racing faster as he contemplated waking up and facing reality.

His phone vibrated on the nightstand and George groped around blindly, cursing under his breath as a discarded bottle of Dom Perignon rolled onto the carpet, luckily already drained of its contents. He peered at the screen, hundreds of notifications paling into insignificance as he read the latest text from his boss, reminding him of their meeting scheduled later that day.

George rolled onto his back, finally taking in the sight of the room around him, snapshots of the previous night flooding back to him, leaving him with an impending sense of dread as his memories assembled into a somewhat more lucid sequence of events.

He sat up slowly, rubbing roughly at his eyes with his fingertips, letting out a soft groan as he confirmed his worst fears.

The Presidential Suite of the Central Park Ritz Carlton looked like a crime had been committed within it, ransacked in the midst of some kind of smash and grab robbery gone wrong. Clothes lay strewn across the floor, in a Hansel and Gretel-esque breadcrumb trail from the door to the bed. One set noticeably more expensive looking than the other.

A half drunk bottle of Grey Goose stood on the coffee table beside two shot glasses, one tipped over, spilling liquid across the glass tabletop. Three more bottles of champagne sat unopened and amongst them all stood four shining Grammy Awards. A sign of victory and success and the culmination of years of hard work. It had been worth celebrating.

If only it had been his name on them.

XNDA was at the top of his game right now, finally reaping the rewards of hours of blood, sweat and quite literally tears. Weeks away from home and loved ones on the promotional trail, long nights in recording studios and on video shoots, smiling through the lows to ensure every interview was his best. When he'd stood on stage at Madison Square Gardens the previous night, glowing under the lights as he accepted the Album of The Year award for his debut album +44 (along with Best New Artist, Best Progressive R&B Album and Best R&B Performance ), finally accepted and validated by his peers, George couldn't have felt prouder.

He'd never set out to be a personal assistant, but his organisational skills and his eye for detail had made it a perfect fit for him. It never felt like a chore, instead he felt privileged to be part of the inner circle. In awe of the other man's abilities, but an integral cog in the machine making sure everyone else got to appreciate them too.

To him he wasn't XNDA, global music superstar and icon in the making. To him he was just Lewis. They were friends but more than that they were a team. A deep, complex understanding of each other that had been borne of hours on the road in enforced company. Learning to work together but also learning how to support each other. They had boundaries, although George was somewhat concerned that what had transpired after Lewis invited him into his hotel room to celebrate and delivered a sweet, heartfelt and maybe somewhat tipsy thank you speech to him, had maybe crossed those. He hoped not irreversibly.

George slid slowly from between the soft sheets, rolling his neck and relishing in the soft click. He felt a scratching sensation across his stomach, glancing down in confusion. A tut of disgust escaped his lips as he peeled a torn condom foil from his abdomen, his skin still sticky with dried champagne and, he was sure, "other residue".

He padded softly across the floor, scooping up his discarded boxers from where they were hooked across the back of the armchair, unable to hide his smirk as a vignette of the previous night reappeared in his mind. Deep in the throes of...passion? Lust? Ill-advised drunken stupor? He wasn't quite sure which yet, but the gorgeous sight of Central Park and New York at night had served as a beautiful backdrop that even his hangover couldn't quell the memory of.

George collected his other remaining clothes, balling them up into his arms as he tiptoed across to the bathroom, stepping over at least two used condoms on his way. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at the bed and sighed, taking in one last look at Lewis still sleeping peacefully in the sheets and knowing that when he came back out, last night had to be consigned to history and it was back to reality.

It had to be. For his sanity at least.

He locked the bathroom door behind himself and groaned, dropping his clothes down on the tiled floor, resisting the urge to drop down and join them. The shower cubicle on the other side of the room was ridiculously large, in keeping with the rest of the room, and he fiddled with the water taps, trying to get the temperature just right.

He caught sight of himself in the large mirror, his hips mottled with the soft bruise of fingertips. His collarbone littered with the purple mark of hickeys. He was pretty sure he had a turtle neck in his suitcase, provided he could get to it without anyone seeing.

The shower had done nothing to ease his mind, seemingly incapable of slowing the racing thoughts through his brain or of banishing them entirely. The dull throb in his forehead persisted and he wasn't sure anymore if it was a hangover or just the sheer amount of over thinking his brain was doing.

As he pulled the previous night's clothes back on, the soft wrap on knuckles against the door broke him from his procrastination.

"George?" Lewis' voice was soft, laced with an evident concern. "Are you in there?"

George swallowed down a smirk. Any other day he'd have shot back with a sarcastic jibe, but right now it didn't seem the time. He fumbled with the lock and pulled the door back, plastering on a smile.

"Hey," He croaked, the sight of Lewis in his boxers suddenly far more distracting than he'd realised previously. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and began tapping on the screen, bringing up the day's itinerary. "You'll be happy to hear I planned ahead for you winning." He announced, his smile widening as he walked back into the room. "We have a late start. Nothing planned until 1. Toto's in town as well and wants to meet up so I booked Carbone. You have the interview for radio at 3 and then we fly back to London at 7 but need to be at the airport by 5."

"George."

Lewis' tone had changed, more stern than before. George turned back to face him.

"We need to talk about last night." The older man sighed, stepping across the room but leaving a noticeable gap between them.

"Do we?" George mumbled, dropping his arms to his sides, his feet suddenly becoming incredibly interesting. Lewis tutted, sinking down onto the end of the bed.

"Yes." He insisted firmly, seemingly undeterred about having this conversation dressed only in a tight pair of black Calvin Kleins. "Neither of us were exactly sober last night and I don't want to think I overstepped or..." He tailed off, twiddling his fingers together. "I need to know that I didn't..."

George suddenly realised what he was getting at.

"Oh... bloody hell... Lewis, no." He muttered, stepping closer and closing the gap, the words rushing out of his mouth in his haste to diffuse any misunderstanding. "I'm totally fine with everything that happened last night. You have nothing to worry about." He mumbled, his lips pulling into an awkward smile. "I had fun."

It felt dangerous to admit the full extent of how much he'd enjoyed it. It felt like career suicide to admit he'd maybe even... wanted it? He still couldn't process quite where those thoughts had come from

Lewis glanced up at him with a nod, his lips slowly pulling into a matching devious smile. "Yeah, I did too." He swallowed heavily. "I don't think we should do it again though." He added frankly.

"Oh god no. Definitely not." George agreed with a nervous chuckle, happy to agree to whatever scenario would make things the least awkward. Just two friends doing something dumb together. No complications.

"Okay, well... that's good." Lewis nodded, rising to his feet and grabbing a towel from the sideboard and making towards the bathroom. He stopped suddenly, turning back. "Oh, before I forget." He bit his bottom lip. "I'm really sorry to do this, but I'm going to need you to sign that." He sighed, gesturing towards the desk, a piece of paper laid out with a pen placed neatly on top.

George stepped towards it, his heart sinking as he saw what it was, recognising it instantly. An NDA. He'd stood by enough times as he'd watched other people sign them. He'd smiled awkwardly at all manner of people, trying to hide his own discomfort as they'd signed it all away for just one night with Lewis. He'd just never figured he might be one of those people himself.

"Yeah, sure." He mumbled, waving a dismissive hand in the air. He wanted to seem as cool about the whole thing as possible. "I'll sort it out."

Maybe it was going to be awkward after all.

[btsficsandsuch]

Hey ,hope you are doing okay. I wanted to request a taehyung × reader where she gets hurt or something when he was on tour but she tries to hide it from her but he finds out eventually. angsty with happy ending

Here you go. I hope you like it!!

I’m Alway Worried About You

This is not how you planned your Tuesday night going. Thankfully the emergency room wasn’t too packed and they were able to get you seen pretty quickly. “Okay Y/N. It seems you have a bad case of pneumonia. Everything will be okay and you’ll make a full recovery but we do want to keep you for the next 24 hours to give you some breathing treatments and make sure it doesn’t get any worse.”, the doctor advises you. You simply nod your head in agreement and watch as we walks out the door.

“You should really call Taehyung and let him know what’s going on.”, your best friend speaks up. “No I can’t do that. He’s on tour and he’ll freak out. He’ll be on the next plane back.”, you say shanking your head. She laughs, “And that would be a bad thing why? It’s obvious he loves you.” “I know he does but he’s already given up so much for me. I don’t want him to get in trouble. Plus the doctor said I’ll be fine so there’s no reason he ever has to find out about this.”, you reply. After convincing your friend that you’d be okay and didn’t need her to spend the night you said goodbye and settled in for the night.

The following morning you woke up extremely tired and with a massive headache. When the doctor told you that you’d be getting breathing treatments you didn’t think he meant every hour. You just finished yet another treatment when your phone started vibrating on the table next to you. Checking the screen you saw Taehyungs name flashing. You’d already ignored two of his calls so you knew if you did it a third time he’d have someone looking for you so you had no choice but to answer.

“Hello”

“There you are Y/N! I was getting worried.”

“I’m sorry Tae. I was in the shower.”

“It’s okay. How are you? I miss you so much!”

“Aww babe I miss you too! How much longer until you get back?”

“Umm like two weeks.”

“Oh that’s not too ba-“

You’re cut off before you can finish. “Here you go Miss. These are your discharge papers. The dr will be in shortly to give your lungs one final listen.”, the nurse says before turning and walking away. You’re glad they weren’t currently checking your blood pressure because the machine definitely would’ve blown up. You were praying Taehyung didn’t hear that but before you even continue he asks,

“Discharge papers and doctor? Y/N are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine Tae. It was in the drama I’m watching on tv. The female lead was in the hospital.”, you said hoping he buys the lie.

“Alright. Well I have to get going. I’ll talk to you later. I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Tae. Be safe! Tell the boys I say hi.”

After the call ended you let out a long sigh thankful that he didn’t ask any more questions. The doctor came in shortly after and checked your breathing. He said you still sounded a little sick but much better than yesterday. He gave you a prescription for an inhaler to use if you felt like your breathing was getting worse and signed off on your discharge. Your best friend was waiting in the lobby to take you home.

The next couple weeks went by fast. Every day you felt a little stronger and you only had to use the inhaler twice. Today was an exciting day because Taehyung was finally coming home after being gone for the last couple months. As soon as he walked in the door you ran and jumped into his arms, “I missed you so much Tae.” He spun you around the living room before giving you a kiss, “I missed you too Y/N.”

After spending some time catching up you both realize that you’re starving and decide to check out a new restaurant that just opened up. The meal was great. Taehyung told you all about the tour. He showed you all of the pictures and videos he took. You couldn’t stop the smile that was on your face. As the two of you made your way back home you held his hand close, just happy that he was finally there. You both walked from the car over to the elevator ready to get upstairs and cuddle and watch the newest drama everyone keeps talking about. You went to press the button on the elevator when you noticed a big yellow sign taped to the doors ‘Out Of Service. Please Take the Stairs. Sorry For The Inconvenience’.

Taehyung scoffs next to you, “For how much we pay to live here you’d think they could keep everything in working order.” You nod in agreement but have no choice but to take the stairs. Luckily your apartment is only on the fifth floor but it’s still quite a few stairs to take. With each staircase it gets harder and harder to breathe. Taehyung notices, “Are you okay Y/? We can take a break.” You shake your head, “No this is just a reminder that I have to start working out more.” The two of you continue up and finally reach your floor. You never thought you’d be so happy to see the tacky green carpet of the hallway leading to your apartment.

Now it seems that with each step your lungs are getting weaker and weaker. Sure you’re not the most physically fit person but you’ve never been this exhausted before. Then you remembered how the doctor told you that your lungs could be weaker for the next couple months as they fully recover from the pneumonia and that’s why he gave you the inhaler. You had stuffed the inhaler in the back of your nightstand drawer thinking you’d never need it again and wanted to make sure Taehyung never found it.

“Y/N are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look that good.”, he says pushing open the door to your apartment. You try to respond but realize you don’t have enough breath in your lungs to speak. You start to panic and begin pointing at your chest. “What’s wrong? Do I need to call for an ambulance? Y/N, try to breathe.”, he says clearly upset. Still unable to speak you start briskly walking back to your bedroom, Taehyung following close behind. Once you get to your nightstand you start pulling out item after item throwing them on the floor until you get to what you’re looking for. The navy blue inhaler. Quickly you follow the directions and push down inhaling the medicine and holding your breath. You Wait 10 seconds and do it again. After another 10 seconds you take one more inhale. Closing your eyes you sit on the bed and wait for the medicine to take effect.

Thankfully it only takes a couple minutes for the medicine to start working and slowly you can feel your lungs taking in more air. When you finally open your eyes you search for Taehyung and see him standing in front of you with wide eyes. “Y/N, what’s going on? We’ve been together for five years and you never told me you had asthma and I’ve never seen you use an inhaler.”, he asks with hints of fear and anger in his voice.

Taking another deep breath you grab his hand and pull him next to you. You decide it’s best to come clean. “I don’t have asthma. A few weeks ago I was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. They gave me this inhaler but I didn’t think I’d need it so I didn’t bring it and I’ve been feeling much better but I think taking all of those stairs overworked my lungs. I’m sorry if I scared you.”, you said unable to look at him. “Of course you scared me Y/N. I thought you were dying. Why didn’t you tell me you were in the hospital? That’s not fair to keep something like that from me.”, he said trying but failing to hide the anger in his voice. “I’m sorry Tae. The doctor said I was going to be fine. If it was something serious I would’ve called you. I just didn’t want you to worry about me.”, you said squeezing his hand.

Taehyung lifted your chin so you were looking at him, “Y/N, I’m always worried about you when I’m not with you. I worry if you’re safe, if you’re healthy, if you’re happy, if you’re eating and sleeping well. Just like you’re always worried about me. If something happens and I’m not here I need to know about it. Even if it’s a paper cut you got while opening the mail. Even if I’m on the other side of the world. Promise me if something ever happens again you will call me, no matter what.” You nod and kiss his cheek, “I promise. I’m sorry.”

He gives you a big boxy smile, “Good. Now let’s clean up and then meet me on the couch. We’ve got a whole drama to binge watch in one night so we better get started.” You laugh and begin placing things back in the drawer except for the blue inhaler you can’t seem to find anywhere. Panic sets in until you see Taehyung in the living room holding the inhaler and talking on the phone. You bite your lip trying to hide the smile that forms as you hear him say, “Yes the prescription is for Mrs.Y/N Kim. I was wondering what would be needed to be able to get enough of these inhalers to put one in every room of the house and to have one on me at all times.” You laugh at his concern. You know they’d never give you enough to do that but for the time being you’ll let him have this moment and you feel your heart swell at how much he loves and cares about you.

[moistreicher]

Lies of P

Pinocchio own headcanons.

• I kind of imagine that P is a very curious puppet (like a player in game exploring) and he would always bring something back to the hotel Krat after mission and Gepetto would see his son piling up things on his table. A broken doll in a red dress. A small piece of screw that shines so brightly like it was newly made. A cowboy hat which Gepetto wonders where did he get it and small few jewels which resembles Gemini's color and his eyes. However, P has been collecting so many things and piling it up on Gepetto's table, forced the old man to get a chest for P to put his treasure (mostly junks) inside.

• P doesn't seem to talk in game but characters in game acts as if so I think, P doesn't usually talk. He only talks when spoken too like an actual puppet with corresponding lines but P can make his own replies and he chooses a word or sentence that would only be a brief response. Gemini once tried to make the boy talk more than he usually does by striking conversation and question but it seems like P got annoyed that he eventually ignored Gemini for the whole mission (still listening to Gemini at least)

• despite he had fought big monsters and big hostile machines, P is afraid of cats at first. When he was curious and tried to touch the feline, it launched its claws to his hand and hissed which caused him to startle. Confused and unable to comprehend what happened, it feared the small creature temporarily as Eugene showed him that cats aren't terrifying creature. Although sensitive, cats are surprisingly affectionate in their own way. But he wishes that the cats would at least trust him and let him touch their soft fur.

• P is fascinated by his own limbs. How it bends and straighten. How his arms are able to move in rotation motion and how his fingers folds in a curl. Gemini taught him how to make a heart but unable to understand as it is not the shape of a heart (he thought literal shape of a heart) and Gemini had to go through explaining him how it is a heart. Then Gepetto gave P a show where he'd use shadow of his hands to imitate the silhouettes of animals. P was amused.

• P purrs. Or so what it sounds like. His springs inside make a sound when he feels pleasant, comfortable at certain someone or simply enjoying the pat on the head from Gepetto. They thought that spring sound is only natural but they don't mostly hear it when P feels neutral till Sophia noticed how the springs started to shift inside him when Sophia and P sat down together to enjoy the rain at the garden.

"Oh my, you sound like you're purring, oh clever one" and then smiled. P doesn't know what it means but kept quiet as the spring sound continues. Sophia thinks that he must have gotten it from the cats as he observed them without touching.

As for P's situation, he does feel warm inside or what he would try to describe it as best as he can. He also feel a small vibration inside. Only vibration and nothing else that is worrying so he lets it without telling Gepetto or Eugene.

• Puppets don't need rest however, P started to like his leisure time. He have no mission? He would stay in Hotel Krat and sit down simply and enjoy the structure of the interior. He would explore the Hotel and look at the painting. Check some corridors he hadn't seen yet. He would also look at the cats. Sits in front of them and simply observe them with a small smile which Eugene found adorable feature from the puppet.

After a mission, he wouldn't go back to the Hotel Krat immediately. He will take his time to go back there. Walking in the alley, roadside, other paths and trying to picture the place before the puppet frenzy had happened. He would ask Gemini about the buildings and structures about what it used to be.

• Missions can get P really dirty. He don't sweat but the muds and dirty water can get to his boots, clothes and skin including his hair so whenever he gets back to the hotel Krat, he is adviced by Gemini to go straight to bath immediately.

P can also feel temperature and he likes the coldness of the clean water. He would always let the cold water run and get into the tub willingly. Gepetto had once reminded P not to use too cold water and don't stay too long there to protect his P-organs from freezing. But P can be act like a child still and insists on using even colder temperature to test how he can go on until it actually happens. Almost freezing his P-organs and thanks to Gemini to call out for Gepetto which saved P from freezing all over.

P got a lot of scolding from Gepetto and after that incident, Gepetto would check on him if his staying longer in bath and sometimes would come in and help P to wash his hair thoroughly from the dirt that is in blindspots.

[rustingcat]

Chapter 1 Wild

"It's here!"

Lena was not prepared for the sudden gust of wind that blew through her window. While Kara did drop to greet her through the big balcony on her foundation's office every once in a while, she would usually get a heads up and a quick knock on the glass before entering her space. That was not the case today. Kara simply burst in like a wild blur, as she continued to zip around the office with uncontrollable excitement. 

"Kara! Kara please," she begged her friend to calm down. "What is here?" 

"This!" Kara dropped a small piece of paper on her desk and stepped back. Her smile was too big to be contained, her body practically vibrating from excitement.

Lena picked up the paper to study it. She could see why Kara got so excited, her own wide smile spread across her face as she read the very formal invitation for the wedding of Nia Nal and Querl Dox.

Kara raised her hands in celebration while making an unintelligible happy sound, somehow biting both lips as she looked like a kid that just found a secret door to a land made of candy. 

Lena found herself easily laughing from both the display and the excitement. She was truly happy for their friends, but there was also something just so contagious in Kara’s pure happiness. 

"Kara, it's still a few months away," Lena chuckled, putting the invitation back on the table.

"Yeah but the gift is important. What did you bring to Kelly and Alex?"

"Money. They did not complain." Lena smiled back at her.

"That’s boring. With everything that they went through they deserve all the happiness. We need to figure out the best gift!" Kara announced as she dramatically fell onto Lena's office couch.

"We?" Lena asked with a raised brow.

"I mean, we can brainstorm together, and have the best gift out of everyone."

"It's not a competition, Kara." Lena chuckled. She rose up from her chair to join Kara on the couch.

"I know, but still." Kara's smile did that thing that Lena adored, where it squinted around the mouth as if she was trying and failing to contain it.

"You have something in mind, don't you?" Lena guessed.

"Sort of? Brainy chose to be with Nia. He made that choice, but he still worries about the future and the big brain." Kara started explaining.

"Do you have a solution for that?" Not that she had any doubts about her friend's intelligence, yet she couldn't really keep the astonishment out of her voice.

"Maybe? I thought about what we know of the big brain and the future and it reminded me of Nia's descendent. Suddenly, it was so obvious!"

"What did you figure out? And what does Nia's descendent have to do with it?"

"Have I ever told you about the Birthing Matrix?" Kara's face turned more focused, like the playfulness from before disappeared in an instant.

"No?" Lena couldn't say she heard the phrase before.

"It's the method Kryptonians used to procreate. All you need is a DNA sample for the machine and any couple can create an offspring. You could even tamper with the generic code to affect their appearance, natural affinities and so on."

"Sounds revolutionary. A machine like that could change everything. Every woman who's afraid or incapable of child birth, same sex couples who want a child of their own, and infertility problems or problematic genetic mutations. Kara, this could be huge!"

"I know. But it could also be dangerous if it’s not properly controlled." Kara said more seriously than before. 

Lena nodded in understanding. Giving parents a potential way to control their child's life even before they are born in such a way could lead to terrible things, not to mention the potentially dangerous plans the military could have for such program. "You said tamper with the genetic code, do you want to use it on some of Brainy's DNA?"

"Essentially yes. To try to create something organic that is not really a person so it could be sent to be fused with the big brain. And also for both of them. I know they want children, they said it before, and with this machine we can create a biological child for them! So Nia could have someone to pass on her dreamer abilities to."

"That's amazing and incredibly thoughtful." Lena smiled proudly. "We can certainly try to solve Brainy's genetic code, but do you have access to the machine? Is it still operational?"

"I'm afraid not, we might have to build one." Kara bit her lips, phrasing her sentence almost like a question.

 "It could be quite a challenge, do you have the plans?" Lena felt the scientist in her getting wild with anticipation, she understood Kara's excitement from the prospect. Or at least thought she might.

"No. But I know where to get them." Kara smiled.

"Oh?" Lena raised a playful eyebrow.

"Fancy a trip to space?"

Read it on ao3:)

[slash-me-please]

I am sure your tired of writing for Amanda by now but your the only person I could find that’s willing to write for her and is actually good at it 😭 spare me i’m desperate and don’t know how too request but could you do a imagine with Dom!Amanda and shes really protective over reader to the point where it’s kind of toxic, she finds out who readers shitty ex girlfriend is and does anything and everything to show the said ex that reader is hers now like: showing up at her place of work with reader, making out in front of her, really touchy, whispering dirty stuff so the ex can hear, etc. Just some examples. You can pick whether reader is fem or gender neutral it doesn’t matter to me :)

On another note: Thank you for your service🫡 I love your writing so much.

you said dom!Amanda therefore you are getting smut i am so sorry to force this on you. :) not really love u.

A/N: Sorry about the wait!! I got caught up on bills today and have been working full time and also doing schoolwork. Luckily I paid my rent + electric so i have some free time!!!

Warnings: Revenge sex trope, voyeurism/exhibitionism, bondage/shibari, fighting, jealousy, dub!con, reader being an absolute asshole, murder, use of vibrator.

Pressing your fingers against the loose fabric of a dress, your lips held in a thin line. The needle pressed through the fabric, and back again. You were focused on your work, a nice sheer fabric for a nightdress you had been working on for a while. You were a tailor for a small business which made custom handmade dresses, one of the best tailors of the six of you.

The office you worked at was small, just like the business. The six of you crowded into a medium sized room. Your boss had created you a small section to yourself, as she insisted on making you employee of the month. So you pressed your hands against the fabric, the slow push and pull of your hands against the machine kept you in a trance. You had loved your job once, and while you enjoyed what you did- there was one downside.

Her. The problem. The reason you got into fights with your girlfriend every night this week.

As you pieced together your nightdress, across from you your ex watched- eyes wide and focused on your hands. You wanted to say something, you wanted to complain. Anything. But you never did, instead opting to do your job.

"L/N!" You flinched, hand jerking forward and pinching your finger in the machine. You yelped, pulling backwards and cradling your finger against your chest. "Look what you did!" The familiar voice of your lover rang through your ears, and you felt yourself turning to look. She was barreling towards you, eyes focused on your boss, who had yelled your last name. She seemed angry, reaching foward to hold you against her stomach.

Amanda placed a brown paper bag on your table, freeing her hands to examine your finger under her "Professional" gaze. She seemed almost content for a moment, eyes narrowed in on yours. "It's just a nick, but i'll fucking murder that ratty-bastard if you want." Your head shook back and forth, eyes widened with shock. "I'm not sure that's necessary!" You whispered, turning away from her to move back to your dress. "What are you doing here Amanda?" She sighed, the back of her hand hitting the paper bag. "I brought you lunch,"

"I might be too busy eating out Jenny to get to that, sorry." You snapped, turning your head away from her. "Fucking look at her, she's fucking you with her eyes. I don't know why you're acting like you can't see that." Amanda snapped back, her arms crossing against her chest. "It doesn't matter what she thinks about me. I told you I only want you! Why does it matter if she's looking at me?" Amanda released a sigh again. "It's about respect, I don't understand why you allow her to do that." You felt your face begin to heat up, beyond aggravated with the entire situation. "She's just not even worth the fucking air! I'm sorry you're too insecure to let it go!"

You only began to feel bad when her face fell and she turned on her heel and out towards the parking lot, but you didn't dare follow her.

You can end here, or read this fucked up smut.

Vision static and dizzy, you wobbled in the chair you were tied to. The last thing you remember was getting home and your lover reaching her hand around your mouth and nose to suffocate you with a damp rag. Your throat felt dry and sore, as if you'd been yelling but you knew that you hadn't. Amanda got like this sometimes, but you knew this time was your fault.

It looked like you were in an abandoned garage, the lights were cool and flickering. You were propped on a chair, both legs tied with a spiral futomomo tie and kept apart with a spreader. You were entirely naked, and bare to the garage.

And your ex.

There sat Jenny, her eyes wide as she stared at your bare form with an underlying lust beneath that fear. Her mouth was ducktaped shut and she was chained to the chair by her ankles and wrists. You squirmed beneath her gaze, whining out for Amanda. A few moments later she made her entrance, yanking off the worn pigs mask. She glared at you with an anger you'd only seen a few times. Goosebumps erupted onto your skin.

"I'm sorry, can you let me out?" You plead, and she frowns. "Don't act like you don't deserve what you're going to get."

She made her way behind you, and you heard her shuffling a few items around. You thought for a moment that maybe she had a table back behind you, but she left you no time to dwell when you felt a cold hand grasp your shoulder.

"Tell me, Love." Amanda took a deep, shuddering breath. "Do you like her eyes on you?" You whined, head craning back to look at her and deny the accusation. "I only want you baby, I promised!" Your pleading did not phase her, she only reached into your hair and yanked your head forward. Your eyes made contact with Jenny's and she watched as Amanda's hand flicked on a vibrator and licked it.

"I want you to watch, let me show you what's fucking mine."

And with those words, she hunched over you and placed the vibrator over your clit. Your head threw back, and you yelped. "Goddammit!" Your legs shuddered against your restraints, pulling against them with a pain. "Please!" Amanda laughed, her eyes trained downwards as she watched your sex shudder against the silicone head of her vibrator. "Good girl..." She whispered into your cheek, placing a cruel kiss on your skin. Your voice wobbled, back arching as you pressed yourself impossibly closer to the source of your pleasure.

Across from you, Jenny watched, cheeks flushed and eyes dilated. Her legs rubbed together as she watched Amanda rub the toy against your clit. She treated you generously, her other hand snaking down to your throat to give it a squeeze as she upped the setting on her toy. You keened loudly, hands balling into fists as you chanted her name.

"You like this? All I had to do was force you to show her who you belonged to?" She sneered, pushing the vibrator lower. She let it sink into your hole, and she began to lightly thrust it inside of you. "God!" You cried, mouth hanging open as your climax ran up to you. "I'm so close!"

Amanda snickered, glancing up to watch Jenny stare between your legs.

Her mouth twisted into something angry, her other hand reaching down to rub your clit in circles. You flailed against her ministrations, mouth open in a wail which could not be contained. Finally, you came against her hands, legs quivering as you soaked her hands and the toy, the rest of your cum wetting the concrete floor beneath you. With that, she flicked the vibrator off and placed it back on the table, grabbing something sharper.

"Did you enjoy the show, Jenny?" You heard her breathe. You heard her walk back behind you, her hand yanking your head backwards. "Love you..." You gasped, picking your head up to give her a kiss. She nodded, fingers releasing your hair. That is when she walked past you, flipping a hunting knife around in her hand. "It'll be the last one you'll ever see."

Jenny began to push against her restraints, shaking her head no and yelling pleas. None of which appealed to Amanda, instead the smooth twist of her wrist pushing the blade into her abdomen and then actively gutting her appealed way more.

You watched the life leave her eyes and you sighed, making eye contact with Amanda and biting your lip.

"Are you done?"

She dropped to her knees, crawling forward to attach her lips to your cunt.