#I just -strangling motions at myself-

[ll-underestimated-ll]

// Every now and then I remember that I need to settle on what bloody path Leo's on, start reading things, then get distracted and forget for the next 5 months. This has gone on since blog creation in 2020 stg.

Anyway -

[hihomeghere]

One Bed : Five Hargreeves / F!Reader

Part of the Tesoro Series (Can be read as a one shot)

Word Count : 3.7K Summary : After a failed mission with the commission, both you and Five find a hotel to rest in. The only problem is, you'll have to share a bed. Aged up!Five. ( I do not own the umbrella academy or any of it's characters ) Warnings : Smut, cursing, mentions of headaches

“Damn It!” You groaned, leaning on your knees, your chest heaved. You changed back into yourself. Happy to be back in your body instead of a very hairy man with a limp. Your head pounded, you should have been more careful. After barely getting any sleep last night you should have known better than to push your abilities. You coughed, spitting bile out onto the pavement in front of you. A crackle of blue light appeared next to you before Five flew out of the portal. He was equally out of breath.

“Where did they go?” He turned to you, throwing his hands up.

“I don’t know,” you spit glaring at him, your emotions running high, “he disappeared.” You waved in front of you. Your lungs screamed, drinking in oxygen in deep breaths, letting your lungs inflate to their limit before breathing out again. 

“Disappeared?” He yelled, whipping his head to look at you. His hair falling out of his neat side part. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a strangled scream.

“Where were you huh?” You hissed, narrowing your eyes “You could have blinked after him if you were here!” He glared at you, his face scrunched into a sour expression.

“God you are unbelievable!” He groaned, clenching his fists. His hands glowed blue before fizzling out, “I pushed myself too hard, I barely made it back to you!” You huffed rolling your eyes. Fighting would get you nowhere, Five loved arguing. When there was a fire lit in him he was an eternal flame, furning for days on end. Once you had stolen his favorite coffee mug, for no other reason than he had said something to piss you off. That was a week of hell you never wanted to relive.

“Look,” you took a breath, “we’re both tired, let’s just go find a hotel and get some rest.” You put your hands up in defeat.

He clenched his jaw, the muscle tightening. He huffed looking around.

“Fine, but you’ll follow my plan tomorrow, got it?” He pointed a finger at you. You didn’t know if it was his age, but the way he would scold you like a child drove you insane. 

“Fine.” You said through gritted teeth. “Shall we?” You asked motioning to your parked car. He moved past you, hitting your shoulder as he went. You sighed following him, hurt blooming in your chest. You hung your head as you walk to the car.

He stopped, turning back to look at you. You didn’t have the best poker face, not with him at least. You looked down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. He bit his lip, guilt washing over him in waves. 

Five had always been in agreement with himself, being alone in the apocalypse there was no room for second guessing. It was live or die every second of every day. When a simple infection from a paper cut could have as easily killed him as a broken bone, Five was always thinking ten steps ahead. Even after the commission picked him up his survival instincts hadn’t fully gone away. Whether he was in the field or not, his primal instincts still had him making decisions quickly and with no room for reflection. This was his way of life, learning layouts of offices, the nearest escape routes. Until you barged into his life.

With you, Five was constantly second guessing his actions. Normally he wouldn’t have given a shit if he was abrasive, cold or unfriendly. He didn’t come to make friends, he came to save the world. He had a job to do, and more importantly a plan. To get back to his family and stop the apocalypse. You were never a part of that plan. He had already calculated his steps when you came in throwing in three more steps to an already difficult dance. Sashaying your way into his life and heart. 

He walked in front of you, cursing himself as he opened up the door of the 1977 Isuzu Gemini SL Coupe. He gave you a small smile as you got in. He closed the door behind you before walking to the driver side and getting in. 

You drove in silence, leaning your head on the window. It throbbed from having to change into so many people. You rubbed your temple, praying for a shower and a warm bed.

Five’s hands gripped the wheel, he was spent. His body ached and the cramp in his shoulder was getting worse as he drove. The stress probably wasn’t helping. He stole glances at you every once and awhile. The only thing illuminating your face was the street lights as he passed under them. 

He sighed under his breath, he shouldn’t have snapped at you. And it’s not like he was mad at you, he was mad at himself. He had let the guy get away, he had been worried about your safety. He had lost you at the beginning of the warehouse. The whole time he had been jumping around looking for you instead of the target. He knew he had made a mistake, using his powers for his personal gain instead of the mission. If the handler only knew, he would never be assigned with you again. Good thing she didn’t. As much as he tried to deny it he had started to enjoy working with you. You helped him maintain his humanity, like Delores had. You two were very similar, both kind, selfless, always thinking ahead. He admired your ability to stay true to your heart, even in your line of business.

He pulled off into a parking lot. Passing the glowing red sign that blinked vacancy. He rolled into a parking spot, putting the car in park. You both sat in silence, you sighed looking into the hotel lobby.

“I-“ Five started before cutting himself off, you raised your head looking at him. He stared straight ahead, his hand lazily draped on the wheel. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his gaze dropped to his lap.

“It’s ok.” You said touching his arm, “We’re both tired and overworked.” You looked over at him, your head throbbed. You shut your eyes covering them with your hand.

“Is it your head?” He asked, looking over at you. You nodded tears pricking in your eyes, “Hey, let’s get inside.” He said squeezing your shoulder. You nodded, wiping away tears that slipped past your eyelashes. Five opened the door, stepping out of the car. You followed him into the hotel lobby, the bell ringing as Five opened the door. 

You winced, sitting down on a leather chair. The fake leather had started to crack, you mindlessly picked at the flakes. The orange carpet under your shoes had multiple stains, you wrinkled your nose in disgust. 

Five walked up to the counter, his hand hovered over the bell before he looked back at you. He put his hand back into his pocket and leaned on the counter.

“Hello?” He said looking around. An older man walked out, he had a full unkempt mustache. Frizzy hair to his jaw, his tall body squeezed into a tweed suit. “One room please.” He said handing him twenty bucks. The man nodded, plucking a key off the wall behind him. He handed it to him, Five turned the red pass over in his hands. He walked back over to you, your head in your hands. His heart squeezed in his chest, he needed to get you to bed. He gently shook your shoulder. “Come on,” he said, helping you to your feet. You gripped his bicep, leaning on him. Any sense of pride had left your body when your headache started. He led you to your room, putting the key in the hole. He had to jiggle it slightly before the lock gave out.

Fives face fell as he took in the room. Only one bed. 

“Damn it.” He muttered, shaking his head, you walked over to the bed. Sinking down onto it as you reached down to untie your shoes. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” He said matter of factly, sighing.

“Five.” He looked into your tired eyes. “We’re both adults, just take the other side of the bed.” You shrugged off your suit jacket, pushing yourself off the bed. You pulled out a hanger and hung your suit jacket up. You unzipped your pants, Five felt heat creep up his neck. You had undressed in front of him before, why did this bother him so much? You unbutton your blouse, hanging it up as well. God, your head hurts. It was no longer throbbing, but pounding. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” You mumbled walking to the bathroom. 

Five sat down on the edge of the bed. He untied his shoes, setting them down next to the bedside table. He listened to the shower turn on, your soft voice humming as the rings of the shower curtain scraped across the metal bar. Five swallowed, his mind started to wander. He imagined you washing your body. The suds over your breasts, letting out a sigh of relief as the hot water washed over you. He felt his dick jump in his pants. He pictured your hands traveling lower down your body, over your soft stomach, reaching between your legs. His dick was standing at attention now. He had a good couple minutes before you would be out. He reached down, rubbing himself through his pants. He could only imagine your hands instead of his, your hot breath fanning over his neck, lips, ear. He leaned back, letting his back hit the bed. He tugged at his belt, undoing the buckle. He unbuttoned his pants pulling them down with his underwear. His dick, no longer confined to his pants, sprung free onto his stomach. He spit into his hand, lubricating his dick. He ran his palm over the tip, once, twice, before he noticed the water had turned off. He quickly pulled his pants back up, buttoning them. He stood up walking over to the window, pulling back the thin green curtain. Trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

You opened the door. Your hair still slightly damp, you had a fluffy robe wrapped around your body. He turned slightly to look at you. You smiled at him, the windows low light illuminating him perfectly. He was reminiscent of a painting of an angel, the hotel sign acting as holy rays behind him. He stood tall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. 

“All yours.” You sighed happily, throwing yourself onto the shitty mattress. The box spring whined as your body hit it. He nodded before taking a couple steps to the bathroom. 

You laid back, combing through your hair with your fingers. You slipped under the covers, the throbbing in your head was now only a slight ache. You heard the water turn on, and shut off after a few minutes. Five opened the door, a towel hung low on his waist. Your eyes traveled down his body, for his toned chest to his firm stomach. You took in all his scars, one above his belly button, it looked like an old knife wound. Your eyes traveled further to his v, a small patch of hair leading from his chest to his hips. You looked away, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. He was drying his hair with a towel so thankfully he didn’t see you ogling him. He walked over to the bed, pulling the covers back. He sank down, the bed dipping with his weight. He laid back, his arm brushing against yours. Electricity flew up your arm.

“Night.” You said softly, he hummed in response. You rolled over, away from him. Looking out the window, listening to his breathing.

-

When you woke up, it was still dark. The sun hadn’t come up but the sky was turning more of a light blue. You felt Five’s warm arm wrapped around your waist, and Five’s breath fanning across your neck. His hand was splayed out over your stomach, holding you tightly against him. You sighed contently, enjoying the closeness to the man you had come to develop feelings for. Although any pure thoughts disappeared when he rolled his hips against your ass. A low groan left his throat, which seemed to shoot directly to your core. 

You froze, you could feel his erection pressing against you. Experimentally you rolled your hips back into his, he moaned nuzzling your neck.

The angel on your shoulder yelled in your ear to wake him up. You savored the feeling, trying to memorize exactly how he felt against you, saving the memory for a later time when you were alone in your apartment, before you nudged him slightly.

“Hmmm?” He mumbled into your ear.

“Five, wake up.” You said nudging him again. He jolted up, taking in the situation. 

“Oh god,” he said, pulling away from you, his voice gravely from sleep. “Jesus, I didn’t mean, if I’ve made you uncomfortable in any way I-“ he groaned, running a hand over his face.

“Five. It’s ok,” You said, pulling his hand away. Looking at him in the low light, he was breathless, a light layer of perspiration on his body. Your mouth watered as you took him in. “If you wanted to, I wouldn't be opposed…” you trailed off your eyes locking onto his face. He froze, his lips slightly parted. He tilted his head, his brows furrowing. He stared down at his hands, deep in thought. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything.” He said softly, you smiled. For a man who was always so self-assured, he seemed so unsure of himself.

“I’m offering. This is just to get some relief, no strings attached.” You said biting your lip, you untied your robe. Letting it fall around your body. Now having no protection from the cold night air, you felt your nipples harden. Five’s eyes raked over your body, you felt yourself grow hot under his gaze. He stared at you like you were a cool glass of water in the apocalypse. 

Five was sure he had been murdered in his sleep. There was no possible reality where you were all but throwing yourself at him. All Five wanted to do was ruin you and make you his. Make you crave him as much as he craved you. He couldn’t remember the last time he had even had sex, possibly in his early days at the commission, but only to get his dick wet. He didn’t care about those girls, now you on the other hand were something special. And you were naked, in his bed. 

“Right, no strings attached.” He repeated back to you. His fingers twitched and you could feel his hesitation. You grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it gently. You brought his hand up to your breast, he let out a shaky breath, his eyes finding yours for confirmation. You leaned forward to nibble his neck, kissing over the bites. He shivered his body tensing, you grinned your breath fanning over his jaw. He pinched one of your nipples, smirking as you gasped. He ducked his head, his mouth covering your other nipple, his tongue flicking the bud. Your hand tugged on his hair, he sighed around your breast.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He groaned, you chuckled looking up at him through your eyelashes. His erection was now painfully stretching against his underwear, you grabbed him through his boxers. He let out a pained noise, like he was being stabbed instead of pleasured. He was puddy in your hands, ready to be shaped anyway you wished. He pushed you back against the bed. In a sudden shift in dominance, his lips found your neck, kissing and nipping slightly. You bucked against his body, your nipples rubbing slightly against his bare chest. His hands mapped a path down your body, like he was trying to memorize it. Unbeknownst to you he was. His fingers found your clit, testing the waters. You gasped, your hand finding its way into his hair. You pulled at his scalp slightly, earning a low groan from him. He slipped one finger inside you, curling it as he thrusted it inside you. You moaned softly, any pain from your headache was now long gone. He added a second finger, his eyes never leaving your face. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to cower under his gaze or beg for more. Your skin was ablaze, Five’s touch was electric, his incredibly eager fingers thrusting and curling inside you. You gripped the sheets, pleasure building in your stomach. That familiar coil tightening inside of you. 

He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips, sucking them clean. “Shit, you’re sweet.” He hummed, swiping the head of his dick down your folds, lubricating himself with your slick. You both shuddered as his velvety soft tip found your entrance.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked softly, his other hand rubbing light circles on your thigh. You hadn’t expected him to be so doting, tales circulated around the commission of the absolute animal Five was in bed. But as his green eyes peered into yours, you could put those rumors to rest. You felt entirely bare, like he was peeling back the layers of your soul. The alarm bells had been ringing in your ears, this man was a killer. He was a survivor, stepping on anyone he had to, to get to where he was. He was a mercenary, follower of no moral code, but if he was all of these things why did he hold you like you were made of glass?

“Yes.” You said, propping yourself up on your elbows. He lowered his gaze pushing the head of his cock in slowly. You both let out a moan, he hissed, baring his teeth.

“Christ you’re tight.” He sighed his eyes squeezing close. His hands gripped your hips, his nails dug in leaving crescent shaped marks. Although you couldn’t seem to care, you had never felt so full in your life. Your hands gripped his thighs for dear life, a strangled cry left your throat as he thrust all the way in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He stilled, a blissed out smile on his lips. You wiggled your hips, trying to get any stimulation from him.

“Fuck me.” You whined, grabbing his face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes widened before a devilishly handsome smile split his face.

“Yes ma’am.” He started a slow rhythm, his dick spearing you every time he thrusted into you. Long, hard strokes. His cock rubbed at the spongy part inside of you and you mewled. “You like that, sweetheart?” He teased a mischievous glint in his eye, you couldn’t help but nod, stroking his ego along with his cock. He took the lead titling your hips up, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders. You needed him closer. Gripping at any part of him you could get your hands on, your nails raking down his back. He moaned, breathy and high pitched. Your breath was stolen out of your chest as he quickened his pace, going deeper than before. 

“Oh fuck, Five.” You groaned holding onto his shoulders, your tits bouncing.

“You’re gripping me so good tesoro.” He grimaced, his eyes fluttering close. He let out a strangled cry against your leg. Biting down harshly before kissing your calf. You yelped fingernails digging into his thighs.

“I’m close, I’m so close.” You babbled tears slipping down your cheeks, every part of you was screaming out in pleasure. This spurred him on, one of his hands traveled between the two of you rubbing tight circles on your clit. You swore you saw stars, your toes curled and you couldn’t help the high pitched whine that ripped its way out of your throat. He leaned forward, his body looming over yours. His arms effectively trapping you underneath him. Working you through your orgasm as he grinded his hips against you, using your leg as leverage. 

“I’m not gonna last.” He mumbled his forehead resting against yours, wincing slightly. You grinned, reveling in the fact that you had such an effect on him.

“Cum then.” You said before sucking a deep purple mark on his neck. You felt his breath catch in his throat against your lips.

“S-shit.” He thrusted hard into you, “you’re so fucking perfect,” He moaned his hips stuttering as he came. “Oh god I love you.” You froze, he loved you? He stopped, pulling out almost immediately. “I don’t know why I said that.” He recoiled, putting as much distance as he could between the two of you. He grabbed his discarded towel, covering himself with it as he stumbled off the bed. You pulled the sheet up, covering your breasts.

“Five it’s fine,” you said sitting up.

“No. It’s not.” He growled, the sudden shift in his demeanor made you recoil. You pulled the sheet tighter around your body, suddenly all too aware of your nudity. “This never should have happened.” He motioned between the two of you.

“It’s just sex. It’s not like you meant it!” You justified, your voice higher than you intended.

He stopped, the outline of his body harsh against the street lamp outside. His head turned slightly, allowing you to see only part of his face. You could see him mentally building his walls back up, brick and mortar in his eyes.

“Five, it’s not like you meant it.” You said it more as a question than a statement, hating the slight waver in your voice. His body tensed as he sucked in a breath, he raised his shoulders.

“No. I must have been thinking of someone else.” He said coolly. Ouch. The air was sucked out of the room as he stormed into the bathroom. Slamming the door behind him. Your heart broke in your chest, slicing up your insides. You swallowed thickly, your mind struggling to keep up with Five’s constant whiplash. One minute he’s taking you to the gates of heaven only to taunt you as he drags you back to hell. 

This was all your fault, you put your head in your hands. You shouldn’t have suggested anything and just lived with the constant sexual tension.

No strings attached your ass.

part two here

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Daddy’s Girl

stepdad!daemon x reader smut

TW: smut, DUBCON, maybe could be called noncon, degrading, rough sex

last part next part

wordcount: 933 words

A/N: this is inspired by an urban dictionary definition of ‘tooth fairy’

You’re barely legal, his kittenish little stepdaughter, and because of that, he had planned to leave you be but you seem to get off on teasing him. You walk around the house in tiny little crop tops and skirts so short that he can see your panties. He didn’t even think it was possible for a man his age but he gets a tent in his pants every time he looks at you. Though, that’s not all, you’ve been getting more bold recently. When your mother wasn’t home, you would leave your door ajar ever so slightly so he could watch you play with yourself. Just last night, you were wearing a revealing, lingerie nightgown as you went to fetch some ice cream. When you bent over to reach the freezer, your nightgown had ridden up and you flashed him your bare pussy. He knows you should be out of bounds but now? He’s too pent up to care.

He can hear you in the bathroom, doing your little wake-up routine and he’s had a nice wake-up of morning wood. He looks at your mother, who’s still sleeping, and thinks he could rouse her and have her suck his cock. It would get him off but it wouldn’t satisfy him. 

You would satisfy him. 

He gets up and wanders down the hall to your bathroom. The door is wide open. You have a slutty pair of pjs on: a tank top and bottoms that fit tight to your ass. He looks at you as you brush your teeth, dirty thoughts filling his head at the sight of the white toothpaste around your mouth.

“Good morning.” He says as he walks in, wearing only his boxers.

“Mor-neugh.” You mumble through your tooth-brushing. You look a little confused as he closes the door. You can’t even see him stroking his dick behind you. You brush it off and bend over the sink to spit out your toothpaste. Before you have a chance to react, your pj bottoms and panties are pulled down in one swift motion.

“Daem-” You’re cut off by your own strangled moan as he shoves his thick cock inside of you. 

“What are you doing!?” He slams a hand over your mouth as he begins to brutally fuck into you.

“Shut the fuck up right now.” He whispers as he splits you open on his massive cock. “You wouldn’t want your mother waking up, would you?”

Tears spring to your eyes but you shake your head.

“Good girl.” He says and he takes his hand off your mouth but you can’t stop whimpering so he covers it again. “It’s ok, little girl. Daddy just had a need this morning that could only be sated by your lovely body.” He can see your cute hands going behind your back to try and push him away and he laughs at the pathetic attempt. He grabs both your wrists with one hand and pins them behind your back. The hand that was covering your mouth grips your hair and yanks it so you’re pulled up against his chest. “Don’t do that again.” He warns in a deep tone. 

“But, daddy it hurtsss.” You whine. He scoffs and pushes you back down, his hand covering your mouth again.

“You deserve it for acting like a cheap slut last night. Do you know how badly I wanted to fuck you then? But I held myself back.” He continues to slam his cock into you roughly. “I won’t be holding back anymore.” The tears begin to fall from your eyes but it just turns him on more. “I’m gonna let your hands go now but only so you can lift that top off to show me those perky tits, okay?” He asks you and you nod. You immediately lift up your tank top so he can see your chest in the mirror. His hand goes around to squeeze your left breast and it’s lucky he’s covering your mouth because he suppresses what would have been a very loud moan. “Good girl.” He feels you clench around him at the praise. “Oh you like that, do you? You like it when your stepfather forces open that tight little cunt with his cock.” He takes his hand off your mouth. “Say it. Say you love it.”

“I-I love it when you fu-fuck me, daddy.” You barely manage to get out the words as his hips slam against yours.

“My sweet princess.” He holds your chin in his hand, rubbing your lip with his thumb. He lifts your chin slightly so you have to see yourself in the mirror. “Look at what a mess you are. Daddy has really ruined you. Is this the first time you’ve taken cock?”

“Y-Yes.” You whimper.

“Oh you poor thing.” His hand comes around to rub your pearl, at least giving you some pleasure as he fucks you so ruthlessly.  He’s fairly surprised when you cum instantly. “My my I guess you like this even more than I thought.” He laughs at you again, making you blush before his hips start to stutter. His pace slows and he finally shoots his load into you. 

“Ah…” You wince as he pulls himself out.

“Go to your room and get back into bed. You and I are going to have a little ‘sick day’ and have some fun while mommy is at work.” He gives you no chance to protest as he pulls his boxers up and leaves you there, bent over the countertop with your panties around your ankles and his cum dripping down your leg.

taglist (comment to be added): @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies

[worldlxvlys]

the fic u wrote called “use me” WAS SO GOOD OMG. you should write smth where chris is sub and the reader overstimulates him (like he cums like 6 times & he's crying & has to use there safe word) it’s kind of a similar request to the one u already did but idk maybe u could creative w it and do other stuff then like just head and riding. this is so aggressive but idc im a SLUT for sub chris & overstimulation.

pepsi

dwb! chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: ummm this is straight filth so don’t read if you don’t want to , oral (male receiving), p in v, overstimulation, use of vibrator , use of wrist tie, use of safe word

dwb! chris masterlist

thanks for the request !! hope you like <333

I LOVE SUB CHRIS I LOVE SUB CHRIS I LOVE SUB CHRIS !!

—————

“you’re so needy tonight, baby” i said to chris, who kept rubbing his bulge against me.

“really need you to fuck the shit out of me ma” he said as planted kisses down his chest.

“you sure ? cause if you want, i can get that bitch whose hands are always on you” i said in a firm, annoyed tone.

“she’s just a customer princess, no one fucks me like you do”

“i know” i said, looking meeting his lust-filled gaze.

eagerly, we quickly helped each other out of our clothes.

“wanna try something new?” i asked, remembering that i had received a new toy in the mail earlier.

“always, baby” with that, i reached into my nightstand grabbing a vibrator and a wrist tie.

when he saw this, his eyes widened. “am i tying you up baby?” he asked.

“nope, i’m tying you up. unless you don’t want me to?”

“of course i do baby, love when you take control” with that i tied his hands together, behind his back.

“you know your safeword?” “pepsi”

“perfect, baby” i said as i gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“are you using the vibrator on yourself ma?” he asked, eagerly. i switched it on.

“nope” i said as i placed it on his tip, making him buck his hips in surprise.

“holy shit ma, fuck fuck fuck” oh he’s in for a long night.

“feel good, chris?” i asked as i moved my face closer to his dick.

“yea ma, holy fuck”

i licked a stripe up his member, watching him squirm.

“jesus baby”

“hmmm you think anyone else can make you feel this good?”

he was feeling so much pleasure, all he could get out was strangled moans.

i grabbed his dick and squeezed the base of it, never moving the vibrator from his tip.

“shit yes!” his eyes widened. “i mean no! no! no one makes me feel like you! oh my gosh”

chris was never usually this vocal, so i was eating this up.

“hmm chris, what’s wrong? can’t even think straight huh?” i asked teasingly.

i took his balls in my mouth, now moving the vibrator up and down his shaft.

“m-ma, if you keep doing that i’m gonna cum”

i briefly paused to answer, “good” and went back to work on his dick.

his hips started to sputter, and he shot out thick white ropes of cum.

without a moment of hesitation, i liked him clean.

“holy shit baby” he said, breathing heavily.

i switched the vibrator off, setting it aside and moving my face back to his cock.

i swirled my tongue around his dick, making him buck his hips up and accidentally pushing himself to the back of my throat.

“baby, baby i’m so sens-“ he cut himself off with a moan as i continued to deepthroat him.

i reached down with my free hand, and played with my clit.

his groans turned into whimpers as i began to moan against him.

“feels so, fuck,so g-good baby”

i moaned in response to his praise, and he fell over the edge again.

i gave him a chance to recover, running my hands up his thighs soothingly and leaving kisses on his abs.

“gonna ride you now” i said moving my legs on either side of him, straddling him.

i didn’t wait for a response as i lined him up with my hole and slowly lowered myself onto him.

“mmmmmm” he whined. i watched as his arms flexed while he tried to fight against his restraint.

i waited a few seconds, and started to move in circular motions loving the way his dick pressed against my walls.

“mmm hm hmmm” more whines, before i started to bounce on his dick.

“ughhhhhh chris you feel so fucking good” i said feeling his dick deep inside of me.

he didn’t last long, already pretty sensitive from his previous orgasms.

“mmmmm- cumming cumming” he whined out as he released inside me. i kept going, determined to finish.

he continued to whine and whimper, while i fucked myself on his cock. his head was thrown back, overtaken with pleasure.

“c’mon chris, know you can make it baby” i said. i was so close to my orgasm.

“fuck chris, i’m cumming baby” i said. shortly after, i released on his cock.

my own release seemed to trigger another from him, taking us both by surprise as he let out a deep moan.

“tell me baby, does anyone else make you cum this much?” he didn’t answer.

he was in a blissed out state, eyes glazed over with lust, his hair sticking to his forehead, and a thin layer of sweat covered his skin.

i grabbed the vibrator, turning it on quickly and placing it where his dick and my pussy met.

“i asked you a god damn question chris”

“no no no no, no one, fuck, no one else. no one else”

the vibrator was hitting my clit perfectly, and i started to rock my body into it.

“shit chris”

chris’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as tears started to fall from his eyes.

“too much, too much baby”

i started to bounce again as i kept the vibrator against my clit, getting closer and closer to another orgasm.

i clenched around him as i released all over his cock again. i then lifted myself off of him and began to jerk him off to help him finish.

his hips twitched violently and i watched him squirm as he got closer and closer.

then, finally, strings of cum shot out of his dick. the more i pumped, the more cum flew out. i was milking him dry.

“OK OK! PEPSI PEPSI!” he yelled.

immediately, i let go of him and untied his wrists.

“shit baby, are you ok?” i asked, becoming concerned.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry chris”

he then cupped my face. “it’s ok baby, no need to apologize. that was hot as fuck, i just didn’t know if you were ever gonna stop”

“i don’t know if i was either, honestly” we both laughed.

i gave him a kiss to the forehead, “i’m gonna go run you a bath, baby” i said.

“thanks ma”

—————

…….heyyyy

idek what to say.

i need holy water.

can you tell i love sub! chris ?

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn

[intoanotherworld23]

Running With The Devil

Summary: you never thought you’d ever spend a night with the king of hell himself

Warnings: mdni 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, rough sex, dom Joel, devil Joel, spanking, smidge of edging, mild choking, mention of the devil, dirty talk

A/N: reblog!! Comment!! I want to hear from y’all and what you think of this support your writers always!! If you wish to be added to my Pedro tag list it’s always open!!

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446 @millerfan

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

“Such an innocent little thing.” Joel grabs your face in his hands as you sink yourself down on his length. His warm hands sliding around to your backside to grip your flesh in his palms. Skin tingling and turning into lava with every touch he left on your skin.

“I’m no good for you sweetheart.” Speaking against your lips with such desperation he couldn’t help himself. There was something about you that drove him absolutely wild. Ever since you came into his nightclub he was hooked. Watching your every move and catching a whiff of your scent whenever you walked by him.

“But I can’t help myself.” Speaking more to himself as he admitted out loud to his infatuation with you. He was obsessed with you front the start, and when the opportunity came knocking at his doors he had to answer.

Joel looking up into your disheveled face with bewilderment as you took his cock. Lifting your hips up stretching the muscles in your thighs feeling the burn radiate to your ankles. Hands on his shoulders to keep yourself balanced scratching a long his skin surely to leave marks on him. He loved it though he wanted you to draw blood.

“You’re so deliciously tight for me.” Cursing under his breath as he rocked his hips directly into your pelvis. Your back arching as he drove himself deeper hitting that sweet spot that had your vision going hazy.

“Mmmph so good Joel.” Whimpering lost in the intoxicating bliss of his touch. Your words fueling his desire as a hand comes down on your ass a sharp gasp slipping past your lips. Joel snickering at your reaction as you looked into his eyes noticing how dark they had become. He almost didn’t even look human.

It felt as though he was some sort of wild beast who was let out of his cage after being starved for so long. The growls and sneers that left his mouth were dripping with poison. Joel was unlike any other man that you have ever encountered.

“That’s all you wanted huh? My cock. It’s a sin to want the devils cock though.” His words should have worried you but if anything it just made your skin even hotter. It was like your bodies were surrounded by massive flames of fire, but they weren’t engulfing you. Moving your hips back and forth with a rapid motion that was shaking the whole bed.

He can feel your warmth around him walls strangling his cock relentlessly. Looking over your shoulder to watch your flesh jiggling and vibrating against his thighs. It was the hottest thing he’s ever seen, and he just wanted to take a bite from your ass. Moving his hands towards your neck pulling your face closer to his.

“Could stay in this tight cunt forever.” Clasping his fingers behind your neck his sharp fingernails tracing along your neck as he’s watching you fuck yourself against him.

A hand reaching out to grab onto his wrist as he applies the slightest bit of pressure on your throat. Nails digging into his flesh as the new sensation racked through your body. It was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Your mind was foggy only hearing the grunts leaving his lips a piercing ring echoing in your ears.

“Please.” Not sure what you were begging for or asking for but Joel seemed to understand what you were wanting. Looking into your mind and seeing the filthy images that you were picturing right now. It made him grin wickedly wanting to do all that with you.

“Oh you dirty girl.” He cooed in your ear his voice dripping with mockery. Of course you had no idea what he was going on about but hearing him call you that caused you to clench your thighs together.

The ache between your legs was starting to become painful at this point. You were so close to your orgasm your legs were trembling making it harder to lift your hips up. A painful burn radiating across your thighs feeling them tense up with every movement. But something kept pushing you to keep going and fight through the pain.

“Come on, use that pretty mouth and beg for the devils cock.” There was that word again. It was starting to concern you a little bit that he referred to himself as the devil.

“Joel please I want your cock. Fuck me.” Crying out pathetically as he flipped you onto your back spreading your legs wide pushing them back onto your chest. Keeping his cock still inside of you as he waited for you to speak. He was mocking your pleasure as a low chuckle rumbled in his throat.

Joel then cruelly and relentlessly pushes you to the brink until all you can muster up are gasps and babbling moans. With each powerful thrust you feel the warmth surrounding your body pulling back only to tease before diving back in. You were a complete mess under his body and you never wanted it to end.

“Letting the devil fuck this innocent cunt.” His lips finding yours with an overwhelming taste of heaven his sultry and seductive voice commanding your release. It seemed as if his words triggered you to do as he wished like a spell over fell you.

Surrendering as your body crumbled and shook your orgasm smacking you so hard that you lost your breathe for a second. Your battered cunt was so sore and swollen from being abused over and over. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you had just experienced. Arms going completely limp and numb by your sides. He remained hard still as yours and his juices leaked out of your swollen cunt.

“So tell me baby,” he purred as he leaned forward kissing your collarbone soft lips trailing along your sensitive skin. Looking up at him you noticed his skin started to turn a faint red like his skin had been burned or something. Your skin started to crawl as you felt like your eyes were playing tricks on you.

“How does it feel to have been fucked by the devil himself?”

[unfortunate17]

wilmon✨ & "I'll do anything"

here’s a little university!AU that I’ve had in my head since the S1 days haha. again, not even going to pretend this is 5 sentences.

“I’ll do anything,” Simon groans, wiping down the last of the tables as Ayub laughs unhelpfully behind him. He rolls out his shoulders, sore from a long shift of carrying plates and trays. “Seriously, man, he won’t leave me alone. Every time I turn around, he’s right behind me - like take a fucking hint.”

“Is he still sitting next to you in lecture?”

“Yes,” Simon cries, throwing up his hands in frustration. He drops into a chair, watching the rhythmic motions of Ayub sweeping the floor. “Like - the room seats two hundred and there’s barely fifteen of us here - why the fuck do you want to sit right next to me?”

Ayub snorts, “I’m telling you, Simme, he’s into you.”

Simon makes a face, “Don’t start with this shit again. Please.”

“I don’t get why you hate him so much.”

Simon looks at him in deep disbelief. “Are we forgetting the fact that he disappeared during our sociology final last year and I had to present it by myself?” Simon tips his head back, groaning at the embarrassing memory. “I had to retake that class because of him - and he didn’t even fucking apologize.”

“Sara said he had a family emergency,” Ayub points out gently, “remember?”

“Yeah right, that’s just an excuse and you know it.” Simon rolls his eyes, slumping back into the chair in exhaustion, “I’d get it if like - oh I can’t miss work today or else I’m going to get fired and then I can’t pay my rent - but come on. I saw his apartment, bro - mama and papa definitely help him out. No way he’s paying for that place on his own.”

Ayub sighs, setting the broom down and emptying the dustpan in the trash. “Bro, you complain about him all the time - just tell him to get lost.”

It’s a testament to their years of friendship that Simon doesn’t cross the room and strangle him. “So now I can’t even complain?” He snaps, the slow simmer of irritation that’s been building up throughout the dinner rush finally catching up to him.

Ayub’s expression shifts then, his eyes suddenly going wide. “Uh, Simme, you might not want to - ”

Simon gets to his feet, crumpling the rag in his hand as he stalks towards the front. “He’s a fucking trust-fund baby,” he rants, moving to swipe aggressively across the counter. “You really think telling him to fuck off is going to work? Wilhelm is literally the single most insufferable human being I have ever fucking met and - ”

A loud clattering interrupts him, followed by the sound of rapidly shuffling footsteps. When Simon turns around, the first thing he sees is two empty coffee cups on their side, the contents of which are dripping out over the table he’d just finished wiping down. Then, his stomach sinks.

Wilhelm is standing in front of the door, looking adorably windswept in his expensive wool coat. His cheeks are flushed, his expression mortified. “Sorry,” his breathes, voice cracking as he scrambles for a stack of tissues, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to - ”

Thankfully, Ayub is the first speak. “Hey, man, it’s just a spill. don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll take care of it, let me just go grab a mop.”

Simon throws him a panicked look at being left alone, but Ayub only shrugs in return as he makes his way to the back.

“I need a mop,” he tells him simply, shouldering past Simon with a pat on his arm.

Simon watches him go, swallowing tightly. There’s a long moment of deep, uncomfortable silence. Finally, he forces himself to take a deep breath. “We close in four minutes, sorry,” he says, voice thin.

Wilhelm’s head is bowed, eyes trained on the floor. “Yeah,” he mumbles, “I know.”

Guilt churns in Simon’s stomach like acid. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” he offers then, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Wille’s tone is robotic. When his gaze finally flickers up to meet Simon’s, his eyes look like broken glass. “Sorry about the mess.” He runs an awkward hand through his hair, even as the strands tumble back into his face almost immediately “I’ll - I’ll just - ” he jabs a thumb at the door, turning to leave.

Simon’s feet carry him across the room before his mind can catch up with his actions. “Wille, wait,” he begs. “That was - I’m really sorry.”

Wille turns to look at him as he pulls the door open again, backlit by the setting sun. His eyes are dark and sad, “It’s fine, Simon.”

Simon wrings his hand, “We - we open at eleven tomorrow,” he offers nonsensically, “if you come back then - ”

The ghost of an unhappy smile flickers across Wilhelm’s face. “I wasn’t here for a sandwich,” he shoves his hands in his pockets as he leans back against the open door. “I just thought. You’re always drinking flat whites in class. And I thought - that I could, you know, bring you one and we could like - ”

Dimly, Simon thinks he’s going to be sick.

Wille looks away then, blinking rapidly like he’s fighting back tears. “Anyway,” he clears his throat, “I got the message. I’ll leave you alone now,” he steps out onto the street, shooting him a last, small smile. “Have a good night, Simon.”

Simon opens his mouth to say - what exactly he doesn’t know. Maybe he means to apologize once more, to ask Wille to come back inside, to offer to buy him another coffee.

Instead, the door swings shut between them before he can decide and Simon watches through paned glass as Wille’s late evening silhouette disappears out into the crowd.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Part 7 - Date Activities

Slasher Handler Masterlist

NSFW under the cut.

CW: Non-descriptive mentions of torture, numbers and math, brief nudity, allusions to cannon-typical violence (Ghost's backstory), red herrings, bones

“Where ‘m I?” You slur around a dry tongue. Struggling to balance your weight on your hips, try to wrap your arms around yourself. Too late, you realize that there’s not enough slack on the chain to complete the motion. “Where‘re we?”

You want to scream. You want to cry and hide your face. You’re horrified to realize that you want Simon, your version of Simon, to materialize on the edge of the bed and comfort you. Unfortunately, all you can do is blink and sway.

“If you’re dizzy, you should lay back down.” Simon’s voice from that jaw-less skull is so disconcerting. In your nightmares, the skull mask sounds inhuman. Distorted, echoing. The burning bush overlap of every person who’s ever made you unsafe. Now, it’s just Simon’s measured speech.

But the rest of him is just as big and dangerous as you remember. He’s dressed like he expects to have to fight someone. His black jacket is covered by some kind of utility vest with a bunch of pockets. A handgun sits in a thigh holster, and on his other hip is the Big Knife. He’s not wearing his usual boots, these are heavier looking. If you weren’t so overwhelmed, you’d be terrified.

The masked killer on the other side of the room tilts his head and regards you for a long moment. The weird silence is such a Simon thing to do that you let yourself take your eyes off of him enough to take a quick look around the room. His chair is by the only door, a solid looking wood. To the left side of the room, there’s a bare folding table. On it, from what you can see, sit bottles of water, a bag of grapes, and some brown packaging. There’s another folding chair. At the foot of the mattress, there’s a huge, black hard case. The kind you’ve seen in action movies.

“Right now,” Simon finally answers. “You’re in the safe zone."

You blame the drugs in your system. It’s the only reason you can think of to look him in his eyes and blurt, “That’s not a fuckin’ answer, you cryptic asshole.”

You’re glad you’ve learned to read his eyes, because they’re amused when he stands. Even across the room, he towers over you. You clutch at the blanket to, what? Protect yourself? But Simon just crosses to the table and picks up a bottle of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers. He chucks both of them at your legs before returning to his seat.

“Sip the water, eat slowly,” he instructs. “And I’ll tell you the rules of the game.”

You can’t think of a reason not to, so you struggle for a moment with the bottle cap before bringing the bottle to your lips. Your mouth feels gross and fuzzy, but the water is cool. The crackers, when you finally tear the packaging, are exactly what you needed. You wish you had some ginger ale.

“You told Kyle that I’d taken you hunting,” Simon starts. “But I hadn’t really. First time was a happy coincidence. Second time, you planned the date activity and I kind of hijacked it, yeah?”

If your neck wasn’t so thick, I’d strangle you, you think. You take another sip of water.

“So I thought to myself, what parts of hunting might my sweet, clever girl be interested in? How can I make sure she’s having just as much fun as me? And I remembered your little cubes.”

You narrow your eyes at that. The Rubik’s cubes were one of the first signs that he’d been breaking into your apartment. By now, he knows that you know how to solve them. Two weeks after he’d moved in next door, though, he hadn’t figured that out. It had made your skin crawl to come home from work and see the colors in the wrong places. Now, sometimes, he’ll present the cubes for you to solve while you talk. When you hand him the completed puzzle, he scrambles it up and hands it back.

“You didn’t kidnap me to make me solve a giant Rubik’s cube,” you say.

“No,” he answers. If you could see his face, you think he’d be smirking. “But the first part of the game is a puzzle. You have to get out of the room.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you want to scream. Instead, you slowly eat your way through the crackers and sip your water and think. The metal cuffs on your wrists are far enough apart that you can easily reach the locking mechanisms. They’re just tight enough that you can’t wiggle out, but they’re not uncomfortable. You can’t see where the chain to the ground is latched, so if there’s a clasp on that end, maybe this will be more simple than you think. You doubt it.

Daylight is streaming in through the window behind you. The shadows of the bars are very obvious, so the only way out of the room is going to be through the door. Simon’s sitting on the hinge side, but the only way you’ll get out before he blocks the way is probably if he’s on this side of the room. Facing the table, maybe. Preferably not standing.

Maybe you can strangle him with the chain.

You freeze as soon as the thought enters your mind, cracker halfway to your mouth. Wrapping the chain around the neck of that death mask only makes sense. But the idea of killing Simon makes you feel like vomiting.

When you look back at him, his eyes are as heated as they ever get. “Don’t worry, precious. I made you a promise last night. No killing, no wounds. No “Saw” puzzles. Just a little escape room. Told me you like those.”

Had you? That sounds like something you would have said, back in the beginning, to see what he would do. You take another sip to clear your mouth and settle your stomach. You’re already feeling better. “What are the rules?”

“You’ve got ninety minutes to get out of the cuffs and get into the chest. Once you’ve done both, the timer stops, and I explain the next part of the game.”

“Can I ask you questions once I get started?”

“Of course,” Simon says, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

You bite your lip. “When does the timer start?”

“You tell me when you start,” he says. “We’re not in any rush.”

“What’s in the chest?”

“That,” he answers, eyes crinkling with an obvious grin this time, “you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

That is not an answer you want to hear, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You rack your brain for any more questions. There are, of course, about a million. But the one that sticks out is, “Why were you so nice to me, last night? You could have just drugged me. You did, anyway.”

Simon doesn’t say anything for a long time, just looks at you. He holds eye contact, so you don’t look away. After a full thirty seconds, he hums. “You said you missed me. That you wanted to be with me. You asked me to stay. I liked it.”

The way he says it, warm voiced and slow and soft, makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. There’s a spark of something in his eyes that you don’t want to examine. You’re too afraid to look away. But then he blinks and lets his eyes drift up and away from you. The breath you didn’t know you were holding whooshes out of you.

“Guess I’d better get started,” you say.

When you stand to the side of the bed, you find that you’re wearing one of his shirts, a pair of underwear, and a pair of socks. The room isn’t unbearably cold, but it’s not comfortable. The chain to your cuffs is much longer than you expected. You think it’s long enough for you to walk all the way around the room, unimpeded. If so, it’s long enough to get out the door, with a little extra slack. It’s locked to a loop bolted into the floor with a key lock.

You walk around to the table to get a good look at everything. There’s the water. The brown packages are four MREs, which you recognize from camping trips back when you were a teenager. There’s actually a few different fruits - grapes, apples, bananas, a bowl of chopped watermelon of all things. All of that is gathered on one side of the table. The side close to the empty chair has a manila folder. A glance inside shows printouts, three pages of text and forms, with some of the information redacted.

You let the folder fall closed and walk over to the chest. There’s two combination locks, each with four dials, one with numbers and the other with letters.

That’s two wrist cuffs, the lock for the chain, and two locks on the chest. If the cuffs share a key, this might be doable. If not… “Two or three keys, and two combinations?” you ask.

“Two keys, two combinations,” Simon confirms.

You do a quick calculation in your head. “A little more than 20 minutes per puzzle. That’s pretty tight, but doable. What happens if I don’t get it done in time?”

You turn to look at Simon and catch him looking at your legs. When he meets your eyes, his are smirking again. “You lose time in the second part of the game. And you’re going to want that time.”

With a sigh and a shake of your head, you walk to the wall across from the table. There are some cracks in the paint, a couple of scattered, discolored spots. But it doesn’t seem deliberate. So you leave it and head back to the table. The folder is tempting, but obvious, so you start with the fruit.

Bag of grapes, three apples, five bananas. You open the package of watermelon and poke around in it. No keys. Not in the bag of grapes, either. The apples and bananas are whole. But one of the bananas has a series of numbers followed by Xs written on it in black ink. 11 21 32 XX. You pry it from the others, carefully, and take it over to the folder.

The metal chair is cold when you use your hand to pull it out. You turn back to the bed and grab the thin blanket to cover it, then have an idea. You shake the pillow from the pillowcase and strip the sheets from the bed. No key, but the pillow has another set of digits and Xs written on it. 7 13 26 XX. You lift the mattress to look under it, but there’s nothing else, so you let it fall.

“Can I have a pen?” you ask, absently. You’re surprised when Simon plucks one from his vest and holds it out for you. You snort as you walk over to take it. “Can I have the key to the cuffs, while you’re at it?”

Simon’s eyes do something complicated as you take the pen. Then he tilts his head, reaches up, and pulls a thin chain from under his shirt. On it dangle two keys, one a tiny cylinder of a thing, the other a proper key. He lets them both drop against his collarbones.

You dart your eyes between the keys and his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“’D prefer if you opened the folder,” he says with a shrug. “But I do have the keys. Cost you… 15 minutes for one.”

“Did you just make that number up?” You laugh. Then it hits you and you glare. “You’re distracting me and stalling.”

“You asked,” he points out, chuckling as you whirl on your heel to go back to the folder.

That is neither disputable or worth responding to, so you don’t. You drop into your seat and open the folder. The first thing you do is jot down the numbers and where you found them on the inside. None of the numbers are repeated, so you leave them for now. Then you pick up the first sheet of paper.

It’s the service record for one Simon J. Riley.

A lot of the information is redacted. Most of the page is blacked out lines. But you see that he enlisted in 2001, had some kind of redacted gap from 2003 to 2004, then resumed his service. Then it jumps out at you. 2007, KIA. You can’t help but look up at him, and find him watching you already. You scour the page for any other information, but there’s nothing. So you flip the page.

This one is some kind of tactical… memorandum? Too much is redacted for you to be able to get much information about who the report is for, so you just start reading.

Mission to Mexico. Drug cartel, name redacted. Compromised leadership. Someone got double crossed. You start feeling sick at the description of torture, but most of the details are obscured, so you push through. Then a line makes you pause, and you have to re-read it. You flip back and forth between Simon’s service record and the report.

“Simon,” you say slowly. Your stomach is really twisted in knots, now. You’re afraid to look at him, but you make yourself meet his eyes. “Were you buried alive?”

He says, “Yes.” Your heart breaks.

The next few lines are blacked out. You really don’t want to ask, but, “How did you get out?”

“Blood, sweat, and tears,” he says, vaguely. “Probably not something you want to think about, sweet thing. Don’t want to waste time.”

“I need to pause the game,” you tell him. “because I just read that you were buried alive.”

“An explanation will cost you an hour,” Simon offers. His eyes are crinkled like he’s smiling.

“Simon.” Your voice is sharp to your own ears. “What the fuck?”

“Tick tock.”

You know from past experience that getting any more information from him will be like getting blood from a stone. So you make yourself read on. There’s a confusing bit about… brainwashing? Without the full context the report is a mess. Multiple civilian casualties, then… mission objective complete? Lots of blocked out text, surrounding a single word. ROBA.

You jot that on the lower half of the folder, then skim through the documents again for any numbers. Besides the years in the service record, there’s nothing that jumps out. So you jot down 2001, 2003, 2004, and 2007.

You decide this is a good enough place to start with the puzzles. The numbers on the pillow seem simple enough. You’re not good at math, but you’re good at patterns. You eliminate a few possible addition patterns, recognize it probably isn’t pure multiplication. Considering who Simon is, you gamble that there’s probably no fractions or decimals involved, so it’s probably going to be some combination of multiplication and subtraction. And as soon as you think of that, you see it. Times two, minus one. So the last number is 49.

The the second puzzle, from the banana, tickles your brain because you know you’ve seen it before. The numbers aren’t doubling. And it’s not simple addition. Adding in sequence seems to work. Adding 10 to 11 makes 21, then adding 11 works to get to 32. Plus 12 would make the next digits 44. That seems almost too easy, but these kinds of puzzles usually are. And it is a possible answer, so you write it down.

The only other potential numbers are the dates. If you pick the last four digits, that’s 1347. Another code. Unless it’s 2222. Or 0000. Or 2020...

Now you have a few potential 4 digit codes, and a possible 4 letter code.

“Time check?”

Simon looks at his watch. “Sixty-two minutes left.”

You hum an acknowledgment, and flip the pages in the folder, and the folder itself. There’s nothing else, so you leave the papers on the table and take your notes over to the crate.

Simon makes an interested noise through his nose. “That was fast.”

“Haven’t found the keys, yet,” you answer, “Gotta get a move on.”

You start with the letters, because it seems straightforward. And then you’re a bit stumped, because the lock doesn’t have a B available in the third slot. Or an A in the first. So you’ll have to find a cypher or something before you can tackle this one. Disappointing, but you still have time. You move over to the other lock and hope you have what you need. 4944 doesn’t work. Neither does 4449, 9444, or 4494. 2222, 0000, and 1347 are all a bust. You make your way through 1374, 1437, 1473, 1734, and 1743 before you give up.

“Fuck,” you grumble.

Crouched as you are, you have a new vantage point to consider. You scuttle your way under the table without putting your knees on the ground, and look at the underside. Sure enough, there’s a doodle of two bananas with a pillow in between. The dates were most likely a red herring. Or they’re the cypher to the letters.

“I got the numbers wrong,” you grumble.

“You’re a smart girl,” Simon says. “You can figure it out. Fifty-seven minutes.”

You scoot from under the table and make to stand up, but something on your leg catches your eye. Dropping onto the now bare mattress, you lift the edge of your shirt, Simon’s shirt, and see writing on your inner thigh, upside down so you can see it easily. Four digits, 01 10, and another fucking banana.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groan.

Simon snickers from his chair.

You grab your folder and pen and jot the new string of numbers down. 01 10 11 21 32 XX. Obviously, adding in sequence no longer works. It’s gotta have something to do with the number of 1s in the sequence, so you try to let go of math related assumptions. The first two numbers swap their digits. Then two ones. Then a two and a one. Then a three and a two. Zero plus one is one. One plus zero is one. One plus one is two. Two plus one is three. Three plus two is… five as the first digit? Sliding the tens to the ones place is one, zero, one, two… three. 53.

Banana pillow banana, then, is 5493.

Before you go to check, you stand up to lift your shirt up to look at your belly, then higher to look at the skin of your breasts. You ignore the low wolf-whistle Simon makes to do a quick inspection. Nothing jumps out, so you let the shirt drop a bit and pull your underwear away from your hips. You feel a bit silly staring at your own crotch, but it’s Simon so you figure nothing’s really off limits. And you’re rewarded with the discovery of a piece of tape with a doodle of a heart on it. The tape is garment quality, which explains why you didn’t feel it.

The heart doesn’t really give you much, but you pull it out and slap it on the folder anyways.

“Forty-nine minutes,” Simon says when you look up at him.

Back at the chest, you click the dials to the number sequence you identified and grin to yourself when the lock gives an easy snick as it opens. The other lock is still a mystery, but you’ve got one down, and still plenty of time to request the cuff key if needed.

You turn to look up at Simon from where you’re crouched. “How much does a hint cost?”

He pretends to think for a moment. “For that lock? Flash me your tits again.”

“Nasty,” you roll your eyes as you stand up. You lift the shirt up to your neck and are startled when he sits forward to rest his hands on your hips. The skull mask gets even closer, and then he’s kissing over your heart, eyes locked on yours. He leaves his lips against you through his balaclava, thumbs rubbing over the place where your hips meet your belly.

You stare down at that bone face from less than two inches away. You used to hope it was plastic. Now you know for a fact that it is not.

And then he lets you go and sits back, crossing his arms over his large chest. He looks at his watch.

“Forty-six minutes.”

You gape at him. “Where’s my clue?”

“That was your clue.”

“That’s the least helpful clue ever,” you complain.

“You found all the other ones,” Simon points out. “But I’ll tell you the solution if you let me fuck you.”

You scoff. “I don’t need you to tell me. I can figure it out.”

“I know,” Simon’s grin is easier to make out this close. “My clever girl.”

You grumble, but you can’t help but grin as you try to think of what the four letter sequence could be. On a whim, you try TITS. The letters are present, but that’s apparently not the combo. Heart has too many letters, but maybe has something to do with feelings. The lock doesn’t have the right letters for LOVE, forward or backward. Same with HATE. You try SRSK for Simon Riley the Serial Killer, but that’s not it. You’re on a date, so you try combining his initials with yours where it fits, but that’s not it either. In a fit of pique, you try TITS again.

Then you take a deep breath and think about Simon and you. Your relationship. DATE, KILL, and CARE are a bust. AMOR, EROS, HOLD, BOND. None of them work.

You’re getting antsy because you still need at least the key for your handcuffs and you're running out of time, but you make yourself take a deep, slow breath. SLOW and DEEP don’t work. And then you pause and look up at Simon’s face. At the skull.

BONE.

Nope. But it was worth a shot.

But thinking about skulls and bones makes you think of skeletons. Dead bodies. Cemeteries. Simon’s service record, breaking your heart.

BURY.

The lock clicks open.

You’re giddy as you swing the lid of the chest open. And, almost immediately, you scramble backwards, shoulders colliding painfully with Simon’s knees. Without thinking, you clamber up until you’re perched in his lap, staring in horror at the human skull grinning up at you from atop black cloth.

A piece of tape is on the right temple. In Simon’s scrawl, it simply says BRANDON.

[wheredafandomat]

What are friends for?

Loki x female reader | Friends with benefits 😉

18+ | contains smut, masturbation, dry humping, oral shmexxy stuff

Hand slick with the mixture of his precum and a couple dollops of lube, Loki closed his eyes as he continued stroking his hard length. He wrapped his hand around it, hips thrusting upwards as he imagined fucking up into a tight, wet hole. His thumb circled his slit, spreading the salty amalgam as a groan escaped him. His toes curled, heels of his feet digging into the mattress below him as his other hand teased his nipple, rolling the erect nub between his fingers. His grunts and groans turned into almost strangled moans as he trailed his hand down from his chest to his balls, squeezing them gently as his lust filled imaginings began to focus on one girl in particular. His thrusts grew more rampant the closer he drew to his orgasm imagining her.

“Lokiii” you chirped, closing the door behind you as you stepped into the apartment “I hope you don’t mind I let myself in. This is what happens when you don’t answer my phone calls.” You continued, taking your shoes off.

“Fuckk.” Loki panted, eyes opening as he drifted back down to reality, his climax escaping him.

“Heyy.” You smiled, opening his bedroom door, making your way towards his bed.

“Hi.” Loki answered, forcing a smile.

“Loki what’s the matter?” You questioned, sitting on his bed and noticing his flushed complexion, paired with the thin sheen of sweat on his face. “Are you not well?”

“No.” He lied, eyes widening slightly as you placed the back of your hand against his forehead.

“Aw you’re burning up” you cooed “you should have told me, I would have made you soup.” You frowned as Loki coughed. “Here, let me grab you some vaporub.” You offered, standing up again and making your way to the kitchen.

Once you were gone, Loki’s eyes darted around the room as he thought about what to do next. Seeing the towel that he had abandoned carelessly on his bedroom floor this morning, he quickly wiped his hands on it before hearing you enter again. Laying back against his bed, he hoped his thin duvet was enough to hide his slowly softening length.

“Right” you began, hiking your dress up slightly as you got onto the bed before straddling a nervous Loki.

“W-what are you doing?” He stuttered as you pulled the duvet down a little.

“I’m trying to create the same effect as a weighted blanket, plus you know I never get sick. Just relax, I’ll look after you.” You smiled reassuringly as you stuck two of your fingers into the tub before bringing them to Loki’s chest. You smeared the waxy substance across his chest unaware of how sensual the motion looked to Loki who was still very very sensitive. He watched as you gathered more from the tub, seemingly in slow motion before you brought it to his chest, lathering it across gently. He tried to stop his wandering eyes as they glanced down at your chest, the exposed swell of your breasts leaving him battling off another erection. Finishing with the vaporub, you placed a kiss on Loki, forehead, pulling away before noticing that he was clearly staring at your breasts.

“Loki, you pervv.” You giggled, covering your chest with your hand.

“I’m sorry I—” he began.

“It’s fine” you assured “you’re not well, you’re probably just getting a fever and being delirious.” You dismissed.

“Mhm, it must be that.” He agreed.

“Let me put a little on your shoulders.” You insisted before the tub fell off of the bed. Still positioned above him, you reached down to grab it, almost falling until he stabled you, hands resting against your hips. Safe, you began to laugh, the movement of your hips torcherous as Loki tried to move his hands away from you, the task evidently harder than he previously thought as they stuck to you. “Thanks superman.” You continued to giggle, unaware of the sensation of Loki’s thumbs digging into your hips as he subtly began grinding into you. It was almost involuntarily, his body craved yours. It wasn’t like you two hadn’t done it before, it just hadn’t happened for a while and his body was paying the price.

“Y/n.” Loki mumbled needily, eyes closing as you massaged the vaporub into his shoulders. Pausing your movements, you noticed that he was moving slightly below you and there was no mistaking that tone of voice.

“Loki, are you?” You questioned, looking down at him. Aghast, his eyes opened, brows furrowing in confusion as you began to smile. Biting your lip seductively, you rolled your hips against his before repeating the action, a small whine leaning Loki. “Does that feel good baby?” You purred. Nodding, Loki held you tighter as he lifted his hips slightly, meeting your movements. You could feel yourself growing wetter as you moved in tandem, Loki’s cock hardening beneath you. You could feel the outline of it against the duvet, your thinly covered centre rubbing against it as his name fell from your lips in hushed whispers. “Lokii.” You moaned, a patch of your combined wetness forming on the thin covers separating you. Your hands found his chest, balancing yourself as you sped your movements, your pussy throbbing from the friction. “Ughh, that feels soo good.” You murmured, hips rolling frenziedly against his as you drew closer to your orgasm.

Loki’s gaze was fixated on you, the way your lip was pulled between your teeth, the way your brows knitted in concentration, the way your breaths changed to short pants as you took your pleasure. You looked perversely seraphic in this moment, this short time of fulfilment, of rapture. He could tell you were close, you always held your breath when you were before crashing into utopia and riding out your high.

As you came down from your high, movements stopping, you looked down at Loki before grinning.

“Want me to look after you?” You smiled, Loki nodding frantically in reply. Pulling the duvet back, you made your way down the bed before you were positioned between Loki’s legs. Knowing that he was naked and smelling the strawberry lube that he clearly used recently made you reevaluate his ills as you gripped his hard length before placing a lingering kiss on the tip. Loki’s hips shuddered; he was so sensitive. You kissed him again before wrapping your lips around him and taking him into your mouth, your hand firmly gripping the base of his cock. His hand found the back of your head, guiding your movements as you hollowed your cheeks around him, sucking. You released him with a pop before taking him again, gagging as you felt the tip hit the back of your throat. Loki lifted his hips, thrusting into your mouth as he sought his pleasure, his earlier climax building again. Your tongue circled his slit, tasting his salty ambrosia as you took his whole length in your mouth. Loki fucked your mouth, your name slipping past his lips before reaching his peak and shooting his load down your throat.

“I feel a lot better now.” He finally spoke, catching his breath back as you licked your lips, looking up at him.

“I bet you do.” You smiled “I know you’re not ill but do you still want to snuggle and watch some films.”

“When do I not with you.” He simpered. “What are friends for?”

Such a cute effing gif 🥺

Tags:

@lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @lulubelle814 @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @eyesbluelikethetitanic @vickie5446 @mcufan72 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @lokilvrr @evelyn-kingsley @strangelockd @xorpsbane @lovingchoices14 @donaweasley @sailorholly @lokidokieokie @gigglingtiggerv2

[nottsangel]

You were speechless. A whole decade passed in your mind before you were able to speak again. "Are you insane!? There is no way..." you started but seeing ron's face fall stopped you in your tracks. "I mean, look, you're nice and everything and you look ok, and I'm sure you're gonna find a girl, but I love fred. I couldn't sleep with you, I'm sorry. I gotta go"

"Wait, wait. Ok, don't sleep with me then, but, can you just, I don't know, talk to me at least. Please, I really need this."

"Uh, ok. We can talk, sure. What about?"

"I don't know, tell me about your day or something."

As you started telling ron about how your day started, you noticed his hand landing over his clothed dick, starting to palm himself.

"Wait, what.. I'm leaving."

"No, no, please, wait, i really need this. Please. Please."

He was basically begging at this point, and you figured you couldn't let him suffer anymore. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, he didn't pay attention in class. You had to help him, or so you told yourself. You began talking about how you took a hot shower this morning, soaping up your body and enjoying the hot water, seemingly working, as ron's erection was already visible and growing. At first you averted your eyes, but then, as you got curious-

"You know... If it were me doing this, I'd take down your pants and keep palming you through your boxers, making sure I'm rubbing your tip lightly, just enough to tease you." He was staring at you now, wide pupils and mouth agape. "Well, go ahead. Do that." You nodded your head at him, signaling to follow your command. Ever eager to please, ron did exactly as you told him. You thought having this kind of power over him wasn't that bad after all.

"Then, I'd give you a lick through your boxers. Well, I suppose we'll have to skip that. I'd press down harder, feeling you press your hips into my palm. Yes, just like that". A wet spot was starting to form on ron's underwear. "Take off your boxers. Good. Now, I'd spit on it", you said as you bent over, letting a generous glob of saliva fall from your mouth directly onto ron's hard cock, eliciting a deep moan from him and a buck of his hips. "Now I'd smear it all over and start pumping in a rhytmic motion, a little tighter at the base and moving my thumb over your tip every time I reach the top, gathering your precum and using it as lube, making everything as messy as possible. Ah, you're such a good boy, following my instructions so dutifully." By now, ron was a moaning mess. You reached over and took his shirt off, making his heart beat faster from the closeness. "I figured it was only fair, since you've seen me naked already. What did you thought about? When you watched me in the bathroom? Did you want to be in there with me?" Ron whimpered as he nodded. "Did you thought what it would be like if it was you touching me instead of myself? Maybe you should have entered the bath with me. Take your time touching me all over, open me up on your fingers and then finally getting to see what my pussy would feel like around your cock. Warm and wet and tight just for you. I could've rode you, so you would have my tits in your face. Do you like my tits?" A strangled "fuck yeah" fell from ron's lips as you unbuttoned your shirt, braless tits spilling out, so you could play with your nipples.

"Fuck, I'm close." "Yeah, you're gonna cum for me like a good little boy? Are you thinking where you would cum if we were fucking? On my tits that you love so much? Inside my pussy? On my face, maybe?" Ron was almost delirious with pleasure. He was going cross eyed, drool gathering around his glossy lips. In the heat of the moment, you leaned across his chest, kissing him, the feeling of your tongue against his enough to drive him over the edge, spraying his chest and abdomen full of cum, some of it landing on your hand in the process. You swallowed his moans while kissing him through his high, all tongue and teeth and messy.

After stepping back, you took one last look at the disheveled state that ron was in. It was... hot. "I'm leaving now. Hope this will suffice. And, if it wasn't clear, this will be our secret. If you tell anyone about this, especially fred, I'll make you regret it deeply." You left the room before ron could say anything else. You were feeling dirty. Fred didn't even cross your mind until the very end. I mean, it was ok if you did this just for ron, right? A selfless act to help him get better, you tried to convince yourself, but the wetness between your legs and throbbing clit were telling a different story. Maybe it was time for you to also help... yourself.

~♣️ (I've been living with this in my mind for a few days but university work wouldn't let me write it. Glad to finally share it)

omgomgomgomg. okay soooo obviously i’ve been thinking about this all a lot the past few days, wondering what the next part would include. however…. this exceeded ALL my fucking expectations ??!!!!!!! this is SO much better than anything that crossed my mind these past few days…. like you really are a fucking genius!!!!!!!!

the fact that she didn’t even have sex with ron but GUIDED him like that… AND WHEN SHE SPAT ON HIS COCK ??? i screamed… ! “yeah, you’re gonna cum for me like a good little boy?” AAAAAA !!!!!!!! she’s such a baddie i love her i want her i want to be her. this was so good so perfect i need a moment to recover

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-nineteen

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: only happy moments from here on out.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh

My screams echoed throughout the neighborhood as I felt myself falling fast towards the ground; my death. I tensed my body for the impact, knowing that impact would either severely injure me or kill me. I could hear muffled yelling under the loud sounds of sirens that dulled out my screams. Right as I was about to hit, two pairs of arms caught me and we all ended up tumbling to the ground.

"Shit," the body underneath me cursed.

Even with the cushion, my body screamed in agony and I tried to move but hissed in pain.

Jolly, who was the one underneath me, slowly rolled my onto the ground while Nick, who was the other that caught me, held my head straight so I wouldn't do anymore damage that I might have already caused.

"Y/N," Folio was quick to kneel at my side. "Don't move, alright? It sounds like paramedics are almost here."

Tears streamed down my face as I tried to sit up, Jolly and Folio holding both of my arms down.

"Noah," I coughed out his name. "Where's Noah?"

Nick stared up at the still-burning blaze. "I don't know."

The sheer fear in his voice made the others share a look which made me with strength I didn't know I possessed, push them away to get to my feet; albeit slow.

"Y/N," Folio stepped in front of me. "You can't go back inside."

"It's Noah!" I exclaimed with wide eyes.

He nodded. "I know. But it's dangerous if you go back inside. You already inhaled too much smoke and your hand is severely burned. You need to get checked out."

Just then the front lawn was swarmed with various fire trucks and paramedics as they began shouting orders.

I gazed up at the house that was slowly crumbling and let out a strangled sob. "He went inside for me and he hasn't come back out. What if something happened to him?"

Jolly wrapped an arm around me to force me away from the blaze. "Noah will be fine. Let's get you checked out.

Reluctantly, I allowed him to steer me towards the open back of an ambulance as one paramedic was waiting.

"Who's hurt?" The young brunette asked.

Jolly motioned towards me. "I'm not sure how much smoke she inhaled, but she burned her hand pretty good."

The paramedic forced me to sit on the edge of the ambulance as she wrapped an oxygen mask around my neck.

"Leave this over your mouth for a few minutes, it will help you breathe."

I pushed it away. "There's someone still inside. He came back for me but hasn't come out."

She turned to call someone over. "Chief, she's saying someone's inside."

The fire chief gave me a stern look. "Just one?"

"Yes, as far as I know. I was on the lattice but couldn't make it down so he must have gone inside from the back where the fire hasn't reached."

Although now, the entire house was up in a roaring blaze, the smoke filtering high into the dark night sky. My neighbors from around the street were perched on their porches watching the entire thing unfold.

"Please," I begged with tears. "You have to find him."

The chief nodded before barking orders into his radio.

"Breathe this in." The paramedic gently placed the mask over my mouth and nose so I can breathe in the oxygen while she assessed the burn on my wrist and hand.

"It's nothing serious but we still need to treat it at the hospital."

Jolly nodded as Nick and Folio hung back. "Folio, you go with her. I'll stay back with Nick."

"No!" I ripped off the mask. "I'm not leaving with Noah."

The paramedic this time forced the mask back over my face and with an ice-cold glare at her, I held it there.

Folio's gentle touch brushed some hair away from my soot-covered forehead as we all stared up at the house, anxiously waiting for any hint of Noah. My knee bounced in tangent with how fast my heart was beating and the tears wouldn't stop falling. I was a wreck, body shivering from the pain and adrenaline, not yet calming down.

The fire chief returned to me. "Can you tell me how the fire started?"

The paramedic was wrapping up my burned hand, so I didn't do further damage and when she nodded, I let the mask fall from my face. "I don't know. I was asleep and woke up to my bedroom full of smoke."

"Did you leave a candle burning or anything like that?"

"No," I answered with a stern voice. "Whatever caused this fire wasn't my fault."

"Chief, we got a body! He's burned but has a pulse, it's weak but there. We're coming out!"

I shared a horrid look with the guys and almost pushed my way past the paramedic and fire chief when movement from the front of the house caught my attention. Two firefighters were carrying a limp body through the yard before handing him off to another group of paramedics.

"No," I sobbed while trying to run over to him.

Folio's arms held me in place as I fought against him. "Let me go! I have to see. Please Folio, please."

Tears pooled in his eyes as his lips parted to speak but nothing came out, his voice gone. Just as important Noah was to me, he was their brother so I couldn't fathom to know what was going through their own minds as we all watched the paramedic work on the burned body.

My mind was running through so many thoughts about what the outcome would be. I shouldn't have taking things so with him. It was only because I was afraid of falling so completely into someone. I was so used to putting other's wants and needs before my own that when it was time to find something good; I refused because I thought I didn't deserve it.

Noah was that for me. Even with our rough start, he was proving to me I was the one for him; past trauma and all. He ran into a fucking burning building for me. Who does that?

Someone in love.

No, I shook the thought from my head. Noah didn't love me. He cared deeply for me but love. There was no way.

I turned to look at Nick. "What were you guys doing here?"

"We just got back to Jolly's place and Noah kept saying he had a bad feeling in his gut like something was wrong. He tried calling you but you didn't answer so we drove over here to make sure you were fine."

"And that's when we saw the fire," Jolly let out a broken breath.

Folio gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'd never seen Noah that freaked before."

Bloodshot eyes glanced over to the body on the stretcher a few feet in front of me as the paramedics worked on hooking him up to oxygen and cover the burned parts of his body. His face wasn't burned, but it was swollen and bloody, almost unrecognizable. Almost as if he was in a fight. I stared intently to the only patch of skin on the left arm that wasn't burned and raised a brow.

Bare skin, no tattoo in sight and my jaw dropped with the realization.

At that moment, a voice crackled through the radio of the fire chief, my heart falling straight out of my ass.

"Chief, we found another one!"

"There was someone else inside?" Nick asked.

It was clear since this burned body wasn't Noah but who the hell was it? And where the fuck was Noah?

"Angel!"

Turning on my heels, Folio's arm falling from my shoulder, I watched in sheer relief when Noah walked through the front door, flames dancing behind him onto the lawn. His hair was disheveled and black soot covered almost every inch of him as he leaned over to cough, hands gripping his knees. Seeing that he was alive made my heart sore in my fucking throat as my stomach warmed my entire existence with a rush I'd never felt before.

Oh. Shit.

Was this love?

"Noah!" I screamed before running over to him.

He caught me midair as my legs wrapped around him, Noah stumbling over his feet but remained standing. My hands cupped his cheeks as I looked over every inch of his face making sure he wasn't hurt. But expecting to see burns, it shocked me to see cuts and a forming bruise around his eye.

"What the hell happened?" I asked.

Noah gently set me on my feet but kept his arms around me. "Are you alright? How'd you get down?"

I let him ignore my question for a moment to let him know I was fine.

"Jolly and Nick caught me, well more-so fell on top of them. But I'm okay," I cupped his cheek with my non injured hand.

Noah leaned into my touch and left a soft kiss to the inside of my palm. "I'm alright, angel."

Paramedics rushed over to bring us back to the ambulance so they could check over Noah, who in fact was fine. He told them he wasn't near the flames and mostly inhaled a lot of smoke, so they hooked him up to an oxygen mask. His hand never left the embrace of mine as I stood right next to him, brushing away the strands of hair away from his face.

"You're fucking insane," Folio seethed once the paramedic's determined Noah was fine and let us all talk amongst ourselves.

Noah shrugged before looking at me. "You all would have done the same thing."

"You could have died, Noah," I quaked.

"I'm okay, angel. I promise," he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze for added comfort.

"Then why do you look like you got into a fight with the fire?" Nick motioned to the cuts and bruise.

I felt Noah tense next to me as he stared at the body being hauled into the other ambulance.

"It was James. I found him inside pouring more gasoline into the part of the house that wasn't burning."

I choked out a gasp as the ambulance drove away. James set the fire. Why? Didn't he want the house?

"He told me that if he couldn't get the house, he'd make sure Y/N wouldn't have it. Though he didn't expect us to be here, he must have been following our band page because he thought we were still at the festival."

"Wait," I shook my head then looked down at Noah, who was still sitting on the edge of the ambulance. "James knew I was inside alone and still set the fire?"

"You made it out and James got what he deserved." Noah assured by pulling me into him so he could press his face against my shoulder. "I'm so glad we made it here when we did."

I laid my cheek against the top of his head and let him hold me tight, knowing that walking up to the scene of my house on fire and me hanging from it must have been a scary sight.

Jolly sighed before motioning behind Folio. "The cops are here."

Just then an officer walked up to the group of us and gave us a small smile. "Who lives here?"

"I do," I lifted my head away from Noah.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

For the next few moments, all of us gave the officer our statements on what happened and as Noah told his, my stomach dropped hearing how he fought James in hopes to stop him from starting another fire which ultimately caused him to set himself on fire.

The officer closed his notebook with a long sigh. "We had a hunch it was arson because of the strong smell of gasoline but an investigation still needs to take place which could take a while. The paramedics said you should go to the hospital to get that hand checked out?"

I nodded. "Um, can you tell me what will happen to James?"

"As of right now he's stable but can't speak with him until the hospital checks him out. When we do, you'll be the first to know."

"Thank you, officer." Nick smiled.

Noah slowly stood to his feet with a groan and hand to his chest. "We should get Y/N to the hospital."

I frowned. "Are you sure you're alright? It sounds like you're struggling to breathe."

"Don't worry about me. Let's take care of you first, alright?" He kissed my forehead, and I melted into him, letting his strong embrace ease the erratic pounding of my heart that hadn't stopped since I woke up.

We watched for a few long moments as the firefighters doused the flames with water, what once was my home now reduced to rubble and ash. Everything I owned gone in a matter of seconds. Where would I go? I had nothing, no money, and the clothes on my back were burned and ruined.

Noah looked into my eyes, almost as if he could read my mind, and pulled me tighter to his chest. He breathed me in as his lips brushed over the top of my head.

"I've lost everything," I cried into his chest. "What the fuck did I do in life to deserve this? It's one thing after the other. I just want a fucking break, Noah. Please. I can't."

I sobbed uncontrollably into his chest as his hands ran soothing circles over my back, his soft voice cooing in my ear.

"It's not fair!" I wailed while pulling away from his chest so I could look up at him. "I did everything right! I took care of my mom when she was sick. I made sure she had everything she needed to fight her disease. I gave her everything, and she repaid me by lying about my entire life!"

Suddenly everything I've gone through the last few weeks came crashing down and I let myself to break down in Noah's arms. His thumb brushed away the tears as they continued to fall, the salty taste bitter on my tongue.

"Everything is gone. I tried to get my laptop that had pictures of all of us but I-I couldn't," I hiccupped. "That's all I care about and it's gone. I wasted time in grabbing pictures of my mom when I could have grabbed something more valuable and important."

With a shaky breath, I continued. "I have nowhere to go, Noah. No where to live. I can't afford a hotel or another apartment."

"Hey," Noah lifted my chin up towards him. "We'll get those pictures back, alright? What's important is that you're alive and here. With me; with us. You can stay with me and Jolly."

The latter agreed with a smile. "There's no way we would leave you alone, Y/N."

My bottom lip trembled with a sob. "I don't deser-."

The words died as Noah pressed his lips to mine in a short but hungry kiss, his tongue brushing over my own as it explored my mouth. My hands grasped at his shirt to pull him closer, needing the friction to feel something. These negative events made my body go numb but with Noah's lips on mine, I'd never felt more alive.

"Don't you dare fucking say you don't deserve it angel because you do. You deserve the fucking world and I'll make sure you realize that, no matter what it takes."

Lips still swollen from the kiss and heart pounding heart against my chest all I could do was nod, not finding the strength to speak.

Folio stepped up to us. "The paramedics are ready to take you two to the hospital."

With one more kiss to my lips, Noah led me away from my crumbling past as the tears continued to dry to my face. For the first time in a long time, I let out a deep breath of relief and looked forward to whatever the future held even if the guilt still ate away at me.

[risingoftime]

𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 | 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖗

summary: Namor can't help himself when he fantasizes about you and the night you spent together. The God is clouded by desire and needs, as you're the only one who's ignited a fire within him. If he can't have you, he'll create a world where it's possible, even if it's in his mind.

word count: 0.6k (a tease I know)

warnings: smut, masturbation, hand jobs, forbidden lust, risky behaviour, needy!Namor, mentions past p in v. namor pov.

18+ | minors do not interact

➴ feel free to send me more thots

I have lived decades upon decades and have never found a woman who kept me on my toes like her. I’ve grown lonely and impatient. Death has been a never-ending theme in these forsaken waters, outliving everyone I’ve ever loved. She showed me that there is more beyond the surface. I was plagued by the memories of last night and the sound of my name rolling off of her tongue. I found myself throbbing, needing to feel her lips pressed against my skin. I took my length in my hands, stroking myself in slow motions, imagining how it would feel to have her lips wrapped around it. I felt my erection grow hard and heavy at the thought.

With a frustrated sigh, I sat on my bed with my legs parted slightly, biting back a rising moan as the roughness of my palm drove me to sweet insanity. I couldn’t resist the visions of her sucking and gagging, kneeling before me. I was thrusting against my own touch with the same desperation from the night before. The rush of heat runs through me at the thought of taking her to my bed and making love to her endlessly. Fantasizing about the noises and faces that she might make sent me over the edge. I stiffened my grip around my dick, allowing myself to embrace the friction as I raised my hips to grind against my hand. I settled into a regular rhythm, imagining her tight walls instead of my palms.

“Oh fuck” I emitted a low moan as I wiped off the thin coat of wetness from the tip. I felt as if my body was on fire, and the calm waters didn’t subside my body’s desires.

Namor began breathing heavily, curling his toes as flashes of her face clouded his mind. His pace went faster, moving his hand up and down while slightly squeezing his shaft. Namor thought of her skin that glistened against the moonlight and stars. Her lips parted slightly as she pushed her hips against his. He imagined her soft pussy getting wet just for him. She’s as hot and slick around his dick as his fingers. Now, his head is genuinely spinning and shifting between reality and fantasy. He had no choice but to pause to catch his breath before beginning again.

The feathered God released a strangled gasp as he felt his abdomen tense and coil, begging for release. Trapping his erection in his hand, he continued grinding against himself in circular directions. Envisioning himself rubbing against her entrance. Arching his back and spreading his legs further, pleading for more until he could no longer hold it in. Finally, his hand was engulfed with wet heat, and he thrust his dick until he felt raw against his grasp.

A sense of clarity came over him after he reached orgasm. The illusions he created in his mind slowly slipped away, and the realization of what he had just done was all that was left. He would do it again and again without shame. Namor knew it would be a while until he could have her under him again. But that didn’t mean a God couldn’t dream.

[wandering-winchesters]

His Hands

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 931

Summary: The thoughts the reader has about Dean's Hands.

Trigger Warnings: None

Requested: No.

A/N: I honestly couldn't tell you where this came from and it might be awful. It was just a combination of thoughts that I had to get onto paper. Please let me know what you think :) x

Masterlist

Since I was a child, I have always been fascinated by hands. I remember a time when I would stare at the wrinkles in my grandmother's hands and imagine the life that they had endured. The stories they could tell if given the chance. She hated her hands, they were old, wrinkly, brittle and aged. A combination of words that she would use to describe her dislike for the hands that had served her for her eighty plus years. I took notice of my father's hands, the rough calluses that reflected the physical toll that his work had on him. My mother's hands, the softness in which they would brush over my skin. Any person that I met, at some point in time I would notice their hands. How they carried themselves, the motions they carried out with their hands. 

Which is why it caught me off guard the first time I had felt Dean’s hands on my skin. The first time I met him, I had watched him strangle a demon with his bare hands, not a move meant to kill it, only an attempt to satisfy Dean’s anger.

The green eyed hunters eyes were locked with the black orbs of the demons. A grin plastered across the demons face as Dean gripped tighter around his throat. I could see the rage emanating off of Dean as Sam muttered the words to the exorcism. I watched as Dean’s face contorted into one of utter fury, a yell leaving his parted lips. He only released his grip on the body, when the black plume of smoke rushed from the body shrieking as it was sent back to hell. 

I had nearly crawled inside of my skin as Dean turned his attention from the Demon that had been before him, to myself. I hadn't realized that I had pulled myself into the corner, cowered and done my best to make myself as small as possible before the two Winchester brothers. Another wave of fear had crashed over me as Dean's eyes locked with mine. I watched as he raised his bruised and battered hands in a mock surrender, his knuckles bloody and split open. They had to hurt, but they didn't seem to bother him at this moment.

At that time, I didn't know Dean from anyone on the street. My whole world had been turned upside down in a matter of hours. I had been taken from my apartment in the middle of the night by the man that turned out to be a supernatural. He had gotten into every corner of my brain, places that I didn't even know existed. Brought every thought filled with self hatred and doubt to the forefront of my mind. That was before the two men that stood before me, had burst into the room. A fact that the demon disliked, his attention immediately focusing on the two of them instead of myself. They argued back and forth, their words spit at the other like bullets from a gun. I couldn't really tell you what they said, even to this day it is all a blur within my mind.

Dean's eyes had locked with mine, soothing words of reassurance leaving his lips. He could tell I was poised to bolt, a deer in the headlights of terror. He kept his hands where I could see them and slowly approached me. He had crouched down next to me and extended one of his hands, offering it to me to help me to my feet. I took it and was caught off guard by the gentleness that he responded with. The calluses on his fingers brushed against the inside of my wrists as he pulled me to my feet. His grip on me had been firm but unmistakably gentle, almost soft. His hands were no longer an extension to the violence that I had seen moments earlier, now they were a source of comfort.

--

Since that first night, I had learned even more about what makes Dean the man that he is. I understood the anger that allowed him to strangle that Demon the first night we met. I had watched as he used his hands for the overall good of mankind. I saw desperation in his motions as he worked to patch up the many wounds and injuries that I acquired. Felt the gentleness leaching through his fingertips when he brushed away the stray hair that hindered my sight.

The first time he held me as I cried, his hands holding my body so tight against him it was all consuming. The need that flowed through him when he climbed into my bed for the first time, tugging me into his chest for comfort. Whether it was comfort for him or myself, neither of us would ever admit.

I had felt his grief through his grip on my body, late one night, as he clung to me. When the world had gone dark and silent, his choked sobs the only noise that fell upon our ears. A side of Dean that very few people would ever see, a side that Dean considered weak.

I experienced the feeling of love in a whole new way the first time his thumb brushed my cheek. One of his hands cupping my jaw, while the other pulled me by my waist into his embrace.

I have always been able to tell a lot about people by their hands, yet I never expected to find myself in love with a man whose hands were capable of giving me the world.

Tag List: @roseblue373@hobby27@jc-winchester

[teabutmakeitazure]

Prerogative

>Yan! Modern! Childe x Fem! Reader

a/n: Childe my little skrunkly. I feel bad for how you always fail to woo your beloved

Warnings: mentions of drugging, suggestive, a little blackmailing, Childe being a parasite

Word count: 2.3k

✧⁠◝⁠◜⁠✧◝⁠◜⁠✧◝⁠◜⁠✧◝⁠◜⁠✧◝⁠◜⁠✧◝⁠◜⁠✧◝⁠◜⁠✧◝⁠◜⁠✧◝⁠◜⁠✧◝⁠◜⁠✧

The only thing stopping you from strangling the smiling idiot seated across you is the presence of your family and the public. Who does he think he is to just casually saunter over to you while you were having dinner with your parents and act like you’re good friends? And why is he bragging about how well off he is?

Most importantly, why do your parents look impressed?

Your mother keeps elbowing your side as she talks, gesturing you to partake in conversation as well. However, you remain silent upon failing to believe in your ability to stay civil. The man with the smug grin on his face is the receiver of your malice and hatred. How can you be expected to stay civilised?

When he laughs at a particular incident from your childhood that is currently being narrated by your father, you have to bite your tongue to push back any unwanted comments. The scene before you resembles that of an ordinary family laughing and conversing with no care of the world. If only your parents knew how disgusting and manipulative he is, they wouldn’t be talking to him so freely about your childhood.

The sound of the three chatting away blends in with the sound of clattering dishes and other patrons in the restaurant. Before your mind can combust, you quietly excuse yourself to the bathroom. Your mother merely waves you off, too interested in the conversation currently taking place. Shoes audibly clicking against the bathroom tiles, you pace back and forth restlessly.

There’s the possibility that he might announce his interest in you while you’re gone and play off your behaviour as your rejection of his feelings. He might even be flaunting his wealth while stealthily leaving out the source of it lest he accidentally ruin his image. Had he not been a borderline psychopathic criminal, you might have considered him as a partner. But there’s no use dwelling on something you can’t change.

What you need to do now is distance your parents from him. You don’t want them to get tangled up with him. Knowing him, he wouldn’t hesitate to use them to his leverage. Just the thought of it makes you anxious. Who knows what schemes are cooking up in his head.

After splashing some water on your face, you calm your shaking hands and slowly make your way outside, taking hesitant steps towards the table everyone was recently seated at. To your surprise, your parents aren’t there. It’s only him.

“What took you so long?”

You don’t bother to sit down, choosing to jump straight away to question him back. “Where are they?”

“They left,” he smiles.

“Left?”

“Yeah. They said that I should take you home instead and talk out whatever ‘issues’ we have.”

You can’t believe this. Did your parents really buy his lie of the two of you having an argument? How can you make them understand that you’re being forced to acknowledge him? That you don’t want anything to do with him?

In one smooth motion, he’s standing. “Let’s go. I’ll drop you home.”

“I can go by myself.”

He gives you a warning glare, the lifeless eyes and strained smile giving the message to shut your mouth and go with it. It takes the finishing touch of him grabbing your wrist painfully to make you move.

Once outside, you’re pushed into his car before you can even feel the winter air on your face. He immediately locks the doors and puts on your seatbelt for you, smiling to himself before he starts the car. It’s when you’re on a road that most definitely doesn’t lead to your house that you ask him where he’s taking you.

“Home,” he replies.

“This is the wrong way. Childe, turn back.”

He doesn’t grace you with a response. Exasperated, you plead again only to be met with silence, the kind that clearly shows he’s done with you and would appreciate it if you stayed quiet, even being as bold as to let his hand brush your thigh whenever he holds the gear.

You know this is wrong. You know it’s not going to be a pleasant night. You know he’s going to threaten you again. You know you’re going to lose.

When he parks the car in the underground parking lot, you start readying answers in your head. The silence in the elevator weighs you down physically. It feels like a boulder on your chest, making you dizzy and lightheaded but before you can dwell on that, he grabs your hand and leads you out.

Soon, you’re quietly seated on the living room sofa, silently eyeing what you can see of the twentieth floor view from the window or glass wall. Whichever describes it best.

He quickly discards his jacket, washes his hands and hums to himself as he brings out a bottle of juice from the fridge. Upon noticing the way you carefully watch his movements, he freezes.

“I’m getting juice specifically because you don’t trust me. It’s sealed! I can’t drug you with this, sheesh.”

Technically, he has never drugged you. You have never even gotten any bad intentions from him whenever he gives you something to eat or drink, but considering that he did very recently casually say that if all else fails, he can just slip in some sedative in your food and take you away, you’ve been careful.

The expensive velvet of the sofa feels soft under your palms. Out of fatigue, you rest your head on the armrest, closing your eyes as you manoeuvre yourself to get comfortable. He soon returns with two glasses and attentively watches you as your breathing relaxes. The fact that you find comfort here now is significant progress to him.

The first family member he had met was your sister. After ‘coincidentally’ running into her at a library, he introduced himself as your friend all the while dropping subtle hints about his affections. Next were your friends and now, your parents. Honestly, the fact that you didn’t tell him off in front of them is worth rewarding you over.

Maybe he’ll get you something you want. Let you choose what you’d like as a reward. He would give you anything. Anything except freedom of course. If you deny, he could perhaps get you a choker necklace. Your neck just looks too empty without something of his.

“Why did you bring me here,” you mumble. Voice muffled by your forearm, your eyes remain closed. “I wanted to go home.”

“You are home.”

“I’m not.”

“Your father really likes me. Your mother too. They asked me when they could see me again. It came as a shocker to me as well, but they wanted me to come over to their place, alone, for lunch.”

You don’t like where this is going.

“[Name], even your parents like me. Why not you?”

You scoff at the question, slowly raising yourself to sit up. “Have you looked in a mirror? Or evaluated yourself recently? I’m sorry, but my type aren’t criminals who own more guns than cutlery.”

An unamused expression is now present on his face. He infiltrated your life like some sort of parasite. You can’t shake him off, and trying to remove him just harms you instead. He’s ruthless in his pursuit. The only thing stopping him from actually kidnapping you is missing out on your agony when you watch him freely converse and insert himself into your family as a prized prospective son-in-law. It makes you sick and he relishes it.

"Oh come ooonn,” he whines. “All that’s for work. I don’t keep any weapons at home. Besides, I don’t need a gun. You know how good I am with a knife.”

The excited gleam in his eyes is just… disturbing. Upon getting no reaction from you, he gets up from his seat across from you and plops down on the other end of the sofa. Setting his glass on the table with a clink, he now rests his face on his palm as he looks at you.

His eyes attentively watch you stare back at him in anticipation. You feel like a prisoner being watched by surveillance cameras, waiting for any kind of reprieve from the unnerving silence. In all the time that you’ve known him, you have learnt that his silence is worse than him chatting away your ear.

Silence means that he’s cooking up some wretched scheme. Something that you won’t be getting out of. Last week you denied going out with him by using the dinner with your parents as an excuse. His signature silence followed, and tonight he crashed the party by appearing out of thin air in the restaurant and woo-ing your parents.

Speaking from other prior experiences as well, you don’t want to know what he’s thinking right now.

“Why don’t you stay the night? I’ll appreciate the company.”

Oh he did not just suggest that.

Indignance written on your face, you hardly sputter out a reply, the shock from his suggestion still present. “W-why? It’s not that late. I’ll go home.”

“Contrary to my choice of wording, I didn’t mean it as a choice,” he smiles.

“No. I’m not… I can’t stay the night. I’ll go home by myself. You won’t have to trouble yourself with dropping me off. I’ll just get a cab-”

“[Name].”

You gulp. There it is. That serious tone where his voice feels anything but reassuring. The smile previously on his face is nowhere to be found, and all emotion drains from his face.

When he speaks again, you realise your heart was pounding furiously against your chest.

“You will stay the night. I’ll drop you to your apartment tomorrow after lunch, and this weekend you will come with me to your parents’ house.” Slowly, he moves towards where you’re seated, frozen in place as you hear him continue. “You will laugh at the jokes I tell and tell your parents the misunderstanding has been dealt with. They’ll appreciate the company and even your sister will be happy for you.”

His thighs press into your own, hands grabbing your cheeks and momentarily giving them a painful squeeze.

“I hope I’ve made myself clear.”

Without breaking eye contact, you manage to bargain. “Let me go home, and I’ll do the rest of what you said. I don’t want to stay the night.”

He tilts his head, brows furrowing as his thumbs brush your cheeks. “Why not? It’s just sleeping.”

First he says that it wasn’t a request. Then he asks why like you have a choice on the matter. Why must he always give you the illusion of choice? Is it to make you feel like you put yourself in the situation?

“Like I said a few weeks back, Childe. I’m not comfortable with all this. Heck, I don’t even want all this!”

“Do you have any idea of how lucky you are?”

“How is any of this lucky-”

“You have one of the most powerful men in the entire continent pining after you. With me, you never need to care about trivial matters like money or accessibility. I’m not even an asshole like my coworkers are. All I want to do is keep you close to me. What’s so unlucky about that?”

“I never wanted a criminal to be pining after me.”

“Have you ever considered looking over unimportant details?”

You scoff at the question. “I think we have different meanings of ‘unimportant’.”

Instead of an answer, he grabs your thigh and moves you to straddle him. Arms now wrapped around your hips, he looks up at your flustered expression with a smirk.

“Maybe I’ve spoiled you too much. That’s why you’re talking back. Maybe… I should have you move in with me. How does that sound?”

“Never in a million years.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just pick you up everyday in the evening and bring you here.”

“Childe… why did you get my parents involved?”

“It’s only fair they meet their future son-in-law, right?”

“Excuse me?”

A look of smug victory appears on his face.

“Move in with me, and I might consider excusing you. We wouldn’t want your parents to accidentally lose all their assets, would we?”

Swallowing down a bitter reply, you apologise. Being the bastard that he is, he rests his head where your neck meets your shoulder. You can feel the way he’s smiling against your skin. It disgusts you but you let him do as he pleases.

After a few minutes of silence, you try again. "Childe, please… let me go home."

"Fine. I'll come with you then."

"What?"

"You want to go home so badly. If you can't stay with me, I'll stay with you."

You do not want to let a murderer sleep in your humble apartment. Thankfully, he catches on and teasingly squeezes what he can grab of your hips. As he stays in his blissful trance, you gather the courage to try something else.

"Childe, what exactly do you want?"

He retreats his face and looks at you with owlish eyes. "You, obviously."

The sincere and innocent tone almost makes you melt. Almost.

"If you wanted me, you wouldn't be doing any of this."

"Well," he leans in, noses brushing, "I guess I'm too much of a sinner to have a saint like you, so I'll have to trap you like a bird in a cage."

"Aren't you just romantic?"

Childe smiles, eyes closing as he rests his forehead against yours. When his lips find their place on your neck, you can only pray that he won't be too hard on you.

[suwbuns]

E-DATERS! | beomgyu’s genius plan

SYPNOSIS. moving back to korea from america, y/n is excited to reunite with her old friends and make new ones. what she doesnt expect is to find herself reuniting with her “ex-boyfriend” from 10 years ago who she dated over minecraft. what makes things worse? he happens to be her favorite streamer who she has been pinning after for years.

written + screenshot below! (not proofread lolol)

“this isn’t going to work” heeseung grumbled, folding his arms over his shirt. “and you’re an idiot for even suggesting this in the first place.”

“but who’s the idiot who agreed?” beomgyu retorted, his voice fading as he walked over to the kitchen to grab the stool from the counter, placing it beside his desk chair. “it’s genius. you just dont know it yet.” he patted the cushion material of the chair, motioning for heeseung to take a seat as beomgyu took his own.

“just stick to the plan,” beomgyu started, launching his minecraft and discord application on his computer while adjusting his microphone arm to where it stopped right in front of heeseung’s face. “i play, and you speak! if you don’t know what to say then ill be here to help you out.”

“this is going to end up badly,” heeseung sighed, adjusting himself comfortably on the stool and moving the pop filter closer to his mouth. “but i’m only doing this because you said that you would pay for my college tuition.” 

beomgyu tapped his fingers against the surface of his wooden desk, waiting anxiously for your username that would pop up under his friend request tag any minute now.

beomgyu himself knew this plan was stupid, there was no doubt about that. but if there was anything beomgyu was good at doing, it was creating last minute solutions. albeit, not good ones.

“i can reveal myself later,” beomgyu thought to himself, his leg shaking nervously under the desk. “im going to have to either way, atleast if things get more serious.”

after nervously waiting for what it felt like an endless amount of time, your username had finally popped up, beomgyu immediately clicking to accept your request. with only a second passing, the red notification bubble had appeared beside your profile picture.

y/n: heyyy

y/n: give me a second to log on, this computer is super slow lol

beomgyu: okayy, call me whenever you are ready :)

“she could call any moment now,” beomgyu rubbed his hands against the fabric of his pajama pants, attempting to get rid of the moisture that coated his palms. “you’re right, what if this doesnt work?”

“so youre telling me this... now?” heeseung deadpanned. “you know, after I practically strangled you to death telling you how stupid your idea was?”

beomgyu shruddered at the memory that occured less than 20 minutes ago, his life flashing before his eyes as he ended up in a headlock by the time he finished giving heeseung his entire spiel of the plan.

“you were the one who agreed!”

“yeah, and thats because your rich-ass agreed to pay for my tuitio-”

the familiar ringing of the discord call sound blared through beomgyus computer speakers, causing him to jump at the sudden noise. he stared at the notification pop up, allowing it to ring on, intimidated by its practically mocking presence.

“ohmygodshescallingwhatdoido” beomgyu panicked, his body shaking due to the adrenaline. the last minute regrets had began to arise, wishing to just flake from the current situation and make some out of pocket joke that would make you never speak to him again to avoid having to talk to you.

it was something that beomgyu knew for sure he could do.

“i dont know, maybe answer?” heeseung grabbed the mouse from beomgyus hands breaking his intrusive thought, moving the cursor to press the green answer button. 

“hello?” a voice sounded from the speakers.

beomgyu froze in his spot, his brain felt as if it was malfunctioning as he was actually processing that he was talking to the diamondgirl123, or in this case, y/n who had been declared off limits from the day he even found out about her. 

heeseung nudged the boy from his dazed state, his eyebrows furrowing towards him as he mouthed what beomgyu wanted him to say. 

“just say hi or something” beomgyu frantically mouthed back, logging onto their private server.

“hi!” heeseung said awfully too cheerful, making beomgyu form a tight lipped expression towards him.

“your voice is so deep bogum, i definitely did not expect that.”

beomgyu felt the blood drain from his face as heeseung chuckled lightly, thanking y/n quickly.

“my voice is deep too” beomgyu bitterly thought to himself. “deeper than his, at least”

he was starting to feel like this was an even worse idea, because the more heeseung and you began to talk, the more you seemed to grow interested. except for the fact that each time you gave a compliment, it was never aimed towards beomgyu himself, but towards heeseung.

and if there was anything that beomgyu couldn’t handle, it was his ego plummeting for the fact that the girl he was trying to win over, was being won over by him. except for it wasn’t really him.

beomgyu sprinted around the world waiting for you to join the game, running quickly to the spawn point when your join message popped up in the chat, dropping a flower to your character.

“ask her if she wants to explore the world together” beomgyu lightly whispered, keeping an eye out on his discord to make sure no audio from him was picked up.

heeseung briefly nodded before relaying the question, to which you excitedly responded yes to.

exploring the world unlocked several memories for you both, allowing you two to bicker with each other and fill each other in on the gap that occurred due to lost time. with heeseung being beomgyus mouthpiece at least. within the time of talking, beomgyu had learned a lot about you and your personality, all the way from your coffee order to embarrassing childhood memories, beomgyu had found himself smiling the entire time and had wished that it couldve been him to be actually talking with you.

beomgyu felt the weight lift off from his shoulders, as he realized that almost two hours had passed and everything seemed to going well, almost too well.

“oh my gosh look!” you gasped, running over to beomgyu’s character and throwing him the book in your inventory. “do you remember when you wrote this when you first confessed to me?”

heeseung leaned over beomgyu’s monitor to take a glimpse of the contents of the book as he flipped through the pages, practically gagging at the amount of cheesiness 13 year old beomgyu managed to write.

“this is so gross,” heeseung scrunched his nose in disgust. “i cant believe i was like this back then” he said, playfully nudging beomgyu in a teasing manner, causing him to roll his eyes at the boy in response.

“hey, it was cute!” you laughed. “you treated me better than any other boy in my life has.”

“actually?” heeseung asked in amusement, cocking an eyebrow. “youre saying that 13 year old beom— i mean bogum, was a better boyfriend than everybody you’ve been with?”

beomgyu’s eyes narrowed at heeseung’s slip up, to which heeseung meerly shrugged at.

“ill be honest,” you spoke, completely oblivious to it. “you completely raised my standards.”

“wait, really?” beomgyu blurted, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth as his eyes widened at heeseung, who had mirrored his reaction.

“you idiot!” heeseung mouthed at the boy after a couple of seconds when he realized youve gone silent. beomgyu crossed his fingers hoping that you didnt hear him, or atleast if you did you wouldnt notice the change in voice.

“y/n, you there?” heeseung broke the silence, glancing at beomgyu whose face had paled.

“me? oh yeah.” you started. both beomgyu and heeseung let out the breaths that they were holding in, sighing in relief. “it’s just… you sounded a lot like this streamer i liked.”

“oh really?” heeseung sent a glare towards the boy who seemed to have a bead of sweat rolling down his face.“sorry, i think i just had some phlegm in my throat which probably made it sound like beomgyu.”

“you’re lucky i saved you,” heeseung was able to mouth, rolling his eyes as he turned to face beomgyu. “im the one you begged to do this, yet youre the one messing up—“

“how did you know that my favorite streamer is beomgyu?”

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST. @openingssequence @suburbiataehyung @shinypieceofgarbage @koeuh @captivq @beowmgyu @qluvrv @ikaeryn @whippedforbeomgyu @i8lhee @heyanonymous123 @vanicogh @sulliefimmie @tae-ology @milkycloudtyg @ox1-lovesick @soobsfairy444 @sulliefimmie @jaxavance @peachenle @pokyloky @peachybeom @alpha-mommy69 @fatoompie @ashxxgyu @soobsdior @viagumi @rikismiel @luvsoobs @lovejunz @wccycc @enha-cafe @kaeslily @hiddenboopy @cashew00nut @merendis @reverbtunes @lcvesickgyuzz @dear-dreamie @fragmentationss @chuuinggummy @hafsa-hoofsa-heefs @beomsbeanie @shigamiryuk @soobliss @woncheecks @sserafimez @ahnneyong @ghostfacefricker6969 @flrtsbin @beomomb @cathaerin (closed)

A/N. poor beomgyu 😔😔 anyways guys i finally made a twitter to boast abt my faves and my life so if ygs wanna be moots hehehe 🤭🤭

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of (minimal) Doom 2024 Day 11 - We're out of time

Suguru smiles, watching the scene in front of him unfurl with a great deal of amusement. Shoko is trying to teach Satoru how to heal others, now that he figured out how to heal himself, and it’s going just as well as all three of them expected.

Suguru gives her another five minutes before she attempts to strangle Satoru with her bare hands and claim that maybe a life and death situation is going to speed matters along.

“Gojo, please,” she now says, her voice tightly controlled and she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Would you concentrate for once in your life?”

“I am concentrating,” Satoru shoots back. “It just doesn’t make any sense what you’re saying!”

Shoko takes a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself down and Suguru honestly feels bad for her. It’s not as if he has any idea what they are talking about, seeing as he is the only one in the room who doesn’t have any kind of healing-power—neither himself nor others—and so to him it’s all gibberish anyway.

“You just have to concentrate,” she reiterates again. “Remember how it feels when you heal yourself,” she says, not for the first time and Satoru throws his hands up in frustration.

“I know how it feels when I heal myself!”

“Then put your hand on my arm and heal this goddamn cut!” Shoko snaps back and maybe Suguru was a bit generous with his estimate of five minutes.

It looks as if she’s about ready to snap any moment now.

“I can’t, why won’t you understand that! It doesn’t make sense when it comes to you, it’s just not the same!”

“What do you mean ‘not the same’? A body is a body!”

“But it’s not,” Satoru whines and slumps in his chair, eying the shallow cut on Shoko’s arm.

Suguru suspects it’s pretty hard for her to keep it open in the first place at the moment and he wonders if that might be one of the reasons she’s so annoyed by Satoru today.

“What do you mean by that? Gods, Gojo, would it kill you to explain yourself once in a while?”

“Things in my body make sense,” Satoru starts, clearly trying to make Shoko understand. “There’s a wound, I do a little—” he wriggles his fingers in what Suguru guesses is a sensible motion because Shoko nods “—and then it’s gone. But I can’t do the same for you. There’s this—barrier or something and everything past that is muddled and muted and confusing and makes no sense at all. I don’t even know where to send my energy to start on healing you and nothing you say makes sense because I don’t feel your body like I do mine.”

“And thank the gods for that,” Shoko mutters before she shakes her head. “But that’s not feasible, Gojo, you have to figure out how to look past this barrier. What if he gets hurt?" Her hand flies up and she points an accusing finger at Suguru, who almost jerks back.

He’s just here to bear witness to this madness, not be dragged in and besides—

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, Shoko,” he drawls out and then very much does not wither under her burning glare.

“We all know neither of you are indestructible. We’ve seen it. So what if Geto gets hurt again, huh? What are you going to do then?”

“Bring him to you?” Satoru gives back and shrugs. “I mean, I can just teleport him to you if it comes to that.”

“It’s not that easy, Gojo. You can’t always assume that an injury will still allow you to move him.”

“Huh?”

“What if he’s impaled on something? What if moving him means exacerbating his injuries? What are you going to do then?”

 “I can just come and get you?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Shoko shakes her head. “You know Yaga sends me to Kyoto more often these days. What if I’m not here? Are you going to warp yourself all over Japan just to get me? We all know you can’t do long-distance teleportation—not yet—and even if you could: two times that close together while you’re also transporting another person? It’s unlikely even you can do something like that. And even if, let’s pretend your genius self can figure this out, what about him then? You want to leave him alone, seriously injured on a battlefield? Either with a curse still there or left all to his own? It’s not going to work, Gojo. You have to figure out how to do it, for his sake at least.”

Satoru looks over to Suguru with a frown and Suguru simply shrugs. Shoko isn’t wrong, after all. So many things can go wrong on a mission and there’s no way to predict a situation like this.

“It could also be a matter of time,” Suguru apologetically says, because he knows Satoru hates it when he’s not on his side but Shoko is right. “What if I’m bleeding out? You teleporting all over the place could take too much time. Sometimes it’s a matter of seconds that make a difference.”

Shoko only points at him as if to say ‘What he said’ and Satoru groans.

“Fine, I get it, I do, but that doesn’t change the fact that I cannot figure it out!”

“Then work on it! You learned RCT in a moment of shock to safe your own life. Imagine how you’d feel if he would die, maybe that will help.”

“Please don’t,” Suguru immediately blurts out because while he doesn’t believe in superstitions, it does feel a lot like inviting doom should Satoru imagine something like that.

And Suguru can really do without a near-death experience any time soon.

“Can we just stop for today?” Satoru quietly says, his eyes downcast, and Suguru doesn’t even want to think about what he’s imagining right now. “I promise I’ll work on figuring it out, I promise, but—not today?”

“Fine. Get out of my hair then,” Shoko mutters, waving them off and Satoru is off his chair faster than Suguru can comprehend.

Satoru snatches Suguru’s hand in his and drags him off with him and it’s not as if Suguru is putting up much of a fight, so he easily follows Satoru. He seems lost in his own head and Suguru keeps quiet until they are in Satoru’s room.

“You okay?” Suguru asks once the door is closed behind them and Satoru lets out a shaky breath.

“Don’t get hurt until I figure it out,” he says, his voice almost pleading, and Suguru’s chest suddenly feels tight.

“Satoru—”

“Suguru, just. Don’t get hurt, alright? I will figure it out, I promise you, but until then you cannot get hurt. I can’t—”

Satoru’s breath is coming a bit fast right now and Suguru steps close, resting their foreheads together.

Suguru gets it; he always feels a little bit faint when he remembers just how much blood he found in the spot where Satoru fought and he can imagine that Satoru felt much the same when he heard that Suguru had gotten hurt as well.

“I’m gonna be careful,” Suguru promises him because that’s the only thing he can do.

There’s always a chance in their profession that they are going to get hurt and things in a fight are more than unpredictable but he can at least promise that he’s not going to take any unnecessary risks.

“Please,” Satoru whispers, gripping Suguru’s arm almost painfully and Suguru pulls him into a real hug.

“I promise I’m going to be careful. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“Thank you,” Satoru says and deflates where he stands.

Suguru expected it, so he can easily hold Satoru up, but he does shuffle them over to the bed.

Today, they are going to take it easy and then tomorrow they can double down on Satoru’s training. Suguru has all the faith in the world that Satoru is going to figure it out because he’s a genius like that and so he’s not too worried about anything.

It will be fine.

~*~*~

Suguru can barely breathe and he guesses the huge hole in his chest is the reason for it. There’s a lot of red seeping out of him, he distantly thinks and tries to raise a hand to push it back in.

It’s not very successful and Suguru blames his hand for it, because it barely comes up to where he wants it.

“Suguru! Suguru, no!” Suguru hears Satoru yell out and then in the next second the sky is replaced with sky-coloured eyes.

Suguru thinks he might like the eyes better than the sky.

“I’m good,” Suguru says, can barely feel his mouth shape his words and watches how Satoru’s eyes drop to his chest.

“You’re not fine, fuck, what am I going to do?” Satoru cries out and Suguru remembers that he has not yet figure out how to heal other people.

“Shoko,” Suguru says, because he has to.

He’s going cold and things are getting more clear somehow and he knows he has to send Satoru away.

“Get Shoko,” he says again when Satoru doesn’t move and he tries to push his hand away from his chest, but he can’t find the strength to do so.

“Suguru,” Satoru whispers and Suguru blinks.

“No time, Satoru, need Shoko.”

It’s getting harder to form words and he knows in all honesty that he doesn’t have long left. This is it, for him, and he barely spares a thought for himself. The only thing on his mind apart from the fuzziness is the fact that Satoru cannot be here when he dies.

Satoru shouldn’t have to see that.

“I’m not going to make it, we’re out of time,” Satoru gives back, clearly knowing damn well that Suguru will be dead before Satoru is even halfway to Shoko and he puts his hand on Suguru’s chest.

Suguru thinks he might be sick when the wet noise makes it to his ears.

“I’m gonna heal you. I’m panicking, this is a life and death situation, I can totally figure this out,” he mutters and then closes his eyes to better concentrate.

Suguru’s eyes want to drift shut as well but he fights it. If he has to die then he wants Satoru to be the last thing he ever sees.

“You’re not dying on me, shut up,” Satoru says, a touch of hysteria in his voice and Suguru wonders if he said that out loud or if Satoru managed to read his thoughts somehow.

It could be fun, if Satoru were a mind-reader now as well.

“Suguru, stay with me,” Satoru pants out, clearly exerting himself by concentrating really hard and Suguru thought there was a hole in his chest so he doesn’t understand why it’s suddenly burning like that.

“Satoru,” Suguru gets out only to be met with a fierce glare.

“Shut up,” Satoru hisses and Suguru obediently falls silent.

Satoru is clearly doing something and it probably wouldn’t do to interrupt him now.

“You’re not going to die,” Satoru mutters as sweat beads on his forehead. “You’re not. I won’t let you.”

It’s a nice sentiment, Suguru thinks, and then his energy is all used up and the last thing he remembers to do is smile at Satoru.

He deserves at least that much.

~*~*~

Suguru wakes up to Shoko’s face. The sight in front of him doesn’t change, even when he blinks once, then twice and eventually he decides to accept it.

He didn’t expect to see Shoko in the afterlife, but stranger things have happened.

“How did you die?” Suguru asks, his voice raspy and Shoko snorts out a laugh.

“I didn’t, you idiot. Welcome back to the living.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you heard me right,” Shoko says and leans back. “You survived.”

Suguru cranes his head down to check out his own chest and he is honestly confused when he finds it whole and unmarred.

There should be a hole the size of his fist in there.

“What happened?”

“Gojo healed you.”

“He figured it out?” Suguru asks and he can’t help how proud he sounds.

He always knew that Satoru would figure it out eventually but to hear that he in fact did somehow hits differently.

“Uhm, that’s probably a conversation you need to have with him,” Shoko says, avoiding eye-contact all of a sudden. “You should feel a little bit groggy, but otherwise you’re good to go. Gojo is probably still sulking in your room, claiming I took too long to clear you to go.”

“I—see,” Suguru mutters because this is all a bit much. He does understand that Shoko wants him out of her hair and so he sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the couch he was laying on.

He feels a little unsteady on his legs when he finally pushes himself off but that feeling fades quickly.

“Thanks, I guess,” Suguru mumbles, waving at Shoko who only rolls her eyes at him.

“Go thank your possessive freak,” she gives back and that only serves to confuse Suguru further.

It takes him a little bit longer than usually, but he does make it back to his own room eventually and just like Shoko promised him, Satoru is right there.

“Satoru,” Suguru breathes out and Satoru is there a second later, fluttering his hands over Suguru’s chest as if he has to make sure that he’s really unhurt.

“Did Shoko clear you?”

“She threw me out, if that’s what you mean,” Suguru replies and then pushes past Satoru towards his bed.

Sitting down does sound kind of nice right now.

“That means you’re good then.”

“She did mention that you healed me?” Suguru asks and leans against Satoru with a sigh when he finally sits down on the bed as well.

“What else did she say?” Satoru asks, fiddling with his fingers and Suguru frowns.

“She called you a possessive freak,” he honestly gives back and Satoru huffs.

“Honestly, what does that woman have against me. That’s so uncalled for.”

“What happened?” Suguru asks and leans more firmly against Satoru. “You figured it out then? Healing others?”

“Not—really,” Satoru whispers and clicks his tongue.

“What is it then?”

“Remember that talk I had with Shoko? Where I said that it’s easy because my body makes sense and then there’s a barrier around everyone else?”

“Yeah?”

“Well—it turns out there’s no barrier around you,” Satoru rushes out and Suguru blinks.

“Huh? You mean I’m—what? Leaking everywhere?”

“No, it’s more like—” Satoru sighs. “There’s my body and then there’s everyone else’s. And you’re more like—my body.”

Suguru takes a moment to digest that.

“That’s what she meant by possessive,” he eventually mutters and drops his head to Satoru’s shoulder. “Because you see me as yours.”

“It’s more like—as if we’re one,” Satoru mumbles, his voice barely audible and Suguru hums. “Are you—mad?”

“About what?” Suguru wants to know because being angry is the furthest thing from his mind right now.

“About—that?”

“Satoru,” Suguru sighs out and reaches out to take Satoru’s hand in his, treading their fingers together. “Apart from the fact that you saved my life—for which I am beyond grateful—it’s always us, isn’t it? Why would I be angry knowing that you feel the same about me?”

“The same?”

“Of course the same. Besides, isn’t it you who always says that I’m your one and only? Don’t you think I would have complained before if I minded that?”

“Probably,” Satoru admits and Suguru shrugs.

“Then I don’t see what there’s to worry about. “I love you. You love me and it’s all like it should be. Especially now that I don’t have a huge hole in my chest.”

“Gods, don’t even say that,” Satoru says with a wet laugh. “You have no idea how scared I was.”

“I can imagine,” Suguru replies, because—again—he had to find so much blood after Toji.

He gets it.

“Now, I am cleared and I am very obviously not dead, but I am incredibly tired, so can we please just lay down?”

“Yeah, of course, sure, come here,” Satoru immediately says, moving away from Suguru to allow him to stretch out on the bed.

Satoru follows him easily but instead of laying down next to him, he almost drapes himself over Suguru, pressing his ear to Suguru’s chest.

“Do you mind?” Satoru asks and Suguru somehow musters the strength to raise a hand and card his fingers through Satoru’s hair.

“Not at all,” he whispers and with a sigh of contentment Satoru goes boneless.

“I do love you,” he says after a long moment, “just wanting to get that out there.”

“I think your actions said that loud and clear,” Suguru replies but he can’t deny that it does feel nice to hear him say it.

“Good. Can’t let you forget,” Satoru mutters and then drifts off to sleep, clearly having worn himself out with his worry.

Suguru is not far behind though and he sleeps very well, knowing that his one and only feels the same.

[imawreck]

Consequences

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Bucky regains consciousness and has to deal with the aftermath of his choices.

Author’s Note: Sorry for the late chapter! Had to finish editing.

Warnings: self hatred, lots of angst, drama

Word Count: 5,236

Max-

Sam had taken a seat farthest away from Winter on the sofa, trying hard not to look intimidated by the soldier. I sighed, nodding to Tony before I made my way over and sat beside Winter to separate him from Sam.

Winter glared at the man over my head as I picked up the remote and flicked through the TV settings. Sam had this shit eating grin on his face, "So, Grumpy is even grumpier huh? That's really too bad. I was looking forward to making fun of him today."

Winter's metal arm whirred from its spot against the back of the couch just behind my head. He was tense beside me, but he had averted his attention to the screen display in front of us as the movie started up.

I sighed in frustration along with him, "Don't tease him, Sam. I might not stop him if he decides to try and strangle you."

My statement elicited a glare from Steve and a nervous chuckle from the man seated besides me. Winter's arm brushed against the back of my neck and I could feel the heat of his body rolling off of him from where I sat a foot away from him on the couch.

Sam gave a nervous chuckle, "Come on Snowflake, lighten up a bit." He shot me a wink which I rolled my eyes to in return.

Winter's arm whirred again, and subtle clicks echoed through the room as he shifted closer to me, reaching his arm around my back and slipping his cool fingers over my hip before he pulled me flush against his side. I widened my eyes in surprise as my gaze shot up to stare at his face. Winter wore a blank mask, but his eyes stormed with restrained anger. His arm was comfortably secured at my hip and I was practically folded into his side as far away from Sam as possible.

Winter's eyes pierced into Sam from where he sat, and Sam practically melted into the couch under the heat of his gaze. I flicked my eyes between the two before reaching for Winter's hand at my waist as subtly as I could, "Winter." His eyes dropped to mine and his lips pulled into a thin line. "It's okay, he's just playing around."

Winter's chest rose and he let out a huff of dismissal, turning his attention back to the movie playing. The sound was turned low, so we all went quiet to listen to it. None of us moved to reach for the remote. I could feel Steve's eyes on me as I shifted my hand back into my lap. Winter's fingers sent heat pulsing from where he touched, his warmth seeping into my bones where our bodies pressed against each other. He held me with a soft firmness, one I wasn't used to from Bucky or the Winter I knew in the past.

I've had a complicated relationship with Winter ever since I met him. Neither of us had ever confessed feelings or even spoke about them at all. It was something unsaid, something mutual that both of us simultaneously understood. He came to me when he felt like he was losing it, and I was there to put him back together. We had never been super into physical contact though, not until years into knowing each other. Even then, I was lucky to even be able to sit next to him without making him uncomfortable. Anything physical reminded him of the abuse Hydra would inflict on him. Which was why, now that he had pulled me against him like it was instinctual, I was reeling with the sudden change in him.

I could feel the heat crawling up my neck as my mind wandered, my thoughts racing with the possible reasons for his actions. It was almost unbearable when his thumb began to track slowly across the small of my back, back and forth in slow soothing motions. A shiver swept through me and I found myself relaxing into him despite the circumstances. Winter kept his eyes trained on the television as we all watched the scenes play out, but I had a feeling none of us were really paying attention.

After about an hour of sitting in silence, I spoke up. "I think you all have seen enough, there's obviously no danger here. I think it's time you give us some space so I can do my part."

Tony looked up from his spot he had taken on one of the side sofas and nodded, slipping his phone into his pocket as he stood. Steve stared me down as he rose from his spot too, his eyes narrowing between Winter and I as he made his way towards the elevator. Sam followed close behind them, shooting me a smile as a goodbye. Then it was just the two of us left. All alone.

I could feel Winter relax besides me as the stress of the room died with their absence. He still kept his gaze on the TV and his thumb continued to sooth my back. We both eased into the silence and watched as the movie continued to roll. The cowboys danced across the screen and shot their guns at cattle wranglers as they raced across a field. I felt Winter's shoulders rise and fall in a sigh besides me and I took a glance at him.

His eyes were already on me, bright and blue. I raised an eyebrow at him, "What?"

His brows pulled together a bit as he continued to look over me, "I remember things."

Now I was really intrigued, "What kind of things?"

"I remember this," His hand swept over mine, rough and calloused. His fingers laced with mine in a soft embrace. "Lots of lights, but I don't remember how we got there or why. I just remember feelings I don't... I can't describe it." Winter looked away for a moment in frustration, but quickly returned his attention to me, "Can you tell me what I can't remember?"

I nodded, startled by his sudden forwardness. "You and I... We went out to town together. We went to a carnival and played some games just to get away from everything. I don't know how much you will remember or understand. It's complicated." I was suddenly riddled with guilt. I couldn't tell him we went on a date, I wasn't sure how much would get back to Bucky when he woke up.

Winter nodded, seemingly a little more at ease but still confused, "I see." He glanced at the elevator behind us. "That man, the blonde one, he wanted to hurt you. Why?"

I took a breath, running my fingers through my hair before picking a piece and twirling it between my fingers at the base of my neck. "That's Steve, he's your best friend but you won't remember him I don't think. You two had a disagreement but you wouldn't tell me why, and Steve isn't a big fan of me. He thinks I'm bad for you."

Winter turned his body just enough for him to see my face a little better, "You aren't bad for me."

It was my turn to frown, staring into his stormy blue eyes. I knew he didn't remember a whole lot, he was more than likely making judgements on emotions and whatever scraps of memories he could collect. Still, I wanted to know why he sounded so confident when he said that. "How do you know?"

He stared at me for a moment longer, "I just feel it." His hand wrapped around mine gently and his warmth swept over me once more. He raised his hand and my own, planting it against his chest. Right over his pounding heart. "I know you aren't bad for me."

My face was alight with fire, and I couldn't help the smile that fought onto my face. I met his eyes, "Thank you, Winter."

He nodded, letting my hand go and turning back to the TV. I watched him out of the corner of my eye for a long while, waiting until his eyes drooped a little more and he fought to keep them open. It was late by now, but I couldn't gauge how late. I still sat right next to him, cocooned in his warmth and safety. I whispered just above the sound of the movie, "I'll take first watch tonight. You need to rest."

He shot me a look that told me he wanted to argue but thought better of it, nodding his head and shifting on the couch. He let his head drop against the back cushions and I frowned. "You'll hurt your neck if you sleep like that. Lay down, I'll move."

Winter didn't argue, shifting to lay down on the couch. His hair splayed out against the pillow as he looked up at me from where he lay. I felt the heat threaten to creep up my neck so I looked away, finding the rug quite interesting, "Get some rest Winter, I'll be right over here-"

Softer than anything, he whispered, "Stay with me.”

I stared at him with wide eyes, frozen in place by his statement. "Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable…"

"You won't." He shifted himself to the edge of the couch, motioning for me to take the inside. I did so hesitantly, glancing at him once I had gotten comfortable. Winter eased himself onto the couch besides me, our arms brushing before he laid with his back to me. "Thank you."

I wasn't sure what he was thanking me for but I nodded to myself, deciding to just go with it. "You're welcome. Get some sleep, I have your back."

His shoulders rose and fell evenly after that, clearly slipping easier into sleep than he used to. Today must have warn him out. I sure felt fatigued. I let my mind rewind the day and play it over in my head. The fight, Steve's words, what Bucky would have to deal with mentally after he came back.

A lick of anger writhed in my stomach.

He had Banner activate the Winter Soldier without telling me. Wasn't I supposed to help him? I felt lied to, and a little betrayed he didn't let me in on his plans. Whatever he wanted from the Soldier, I could help him with. I knew I could. So why didn't he come to me first? Why take such a risk? I shook my head, throwing the thoughts out. It wasn't worth losing sleep over just yet. I'd have words with him later.

Just then, Winter shifted next to me. His body twisted uncomfortably before he wound up facing me, his heavy arm tossed over me. I stiffened, staring at his face mere inches from my own. His scruff had grown out some, and his features seemed abnormally smooth. He was always so serious, I nearly forgot how tender he really was. I gently maneuvered myself onto my own side, facing him on the single pillow decorating the couch. His shoulders were much wider than my own and blocked nearly all of my vision. Brown hair splayed across the pillow and framing his face gently in a way that accented his sharp jaw and dark lashes. He was beautiful.

I brushed a strand of hair away from his nose and tucked it gently out of his face. He didn't stir, calm as could be. I breathed in his scent, shutting my eyes and easing into the feeling of relief he brought with him. Winter's arm tightened around me, slipping behind my back and tugging me closer until my forehead was flush to his chest. I stared at the shirt he wore, the same as this morning, and struggled to breathe. Winter had never been this physical and it startled me how easily it came to him and myself to return it so quickly. This had to have something to do with Bucky knowing about me, maybe there was a connection stronger than we thought between his conscious and his subconscious mind.

I decided that I wouldn't move, he looked too peaceful to disturb. I forced myself to breathe, to relax against him. It wasn't as hard as it should have been and I took note not to let this go to my head. I shut my eyes once more, and let myself drift off to sleep caged in his arms.

_____

Bucky-

Everything felt fuzzy. My mind felt like there was a blanket of fog over everything, like I was looking through a sheet in my own head. I tried to move, but something was holding me down. For a split second, I felt the sick hot panic that came just before I woke up, but when my eyes opened my breath caught in my throat. The panic went away as quick as it came. White hair tangled with mine, and dark lashes brushed against rosy cheeks. Her breath was soft as it rushed out of her pink lips. Max laid just centimeters from me, her body pressed against mine as we lay on the couch. Her legs tangled between my own and her fingers were curled into my shirt. She looked so peaceful as she slept.

The sun was nowhere to be seen even though the room was practically made of windows. I took a moment to glance around only to be met with cold steel lining all visible walls. I figured it was due to triggering the Winter Soldier. I turned my attention back to the girl in my arms.

I did my best not to wake her, moving slowly to shift a her hair away from her face to get a better view of her features. Her head rested on my arm which had long since gone numb. I couldn't help but smile, she truly was stunning.

As I lay there with her, the memories of the night before began to resurface. The fight with the Avengers flashed in my mind first, the way Natasha had tried to knock me out. A subtle ache in my neck cemented the memory as a reality. Max had come then, taking them out one by one. Her strained voice echoed in my thoughts as it played out. I could hear the fear laced within it as she called out for them to stop. I frowned at my recollection, feeling the guilt begin to seep into my bones. I remember her trying to get my attention, to make me just stop a moment to realize what was happening. But she couldn't, not until she physically forced me to. I had hit her. That was enough to make me flinch.

My movements caused Max to stir, her eyes fluttering open and focusing in on my face. Her pupils dilated, and she smiled a smile so small I nearly missed it. "Bucky?"

It took me a moment to pull my jumbled thoughts together enough to respond, "Yeah, it's me."

There was a moment of relief that flashed across her face. Her eyes shined and her smile brightened just a little bit more before it all dropped in a flash. Her hands that were still tangled in my shirt shoved at my chest in a split second, replaced with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Just like that, she had tossed me to the floor.

"James Buchanan Barnes, you sorry sucker!" Her white hair was dangling in my face not a moment later, and her eyes pinned me in place with a fierceness I hadn't seen in a while. "How could you do something like that and not tell me?"

I sighed, forcing my eyes shut. "I just didn't want you to be worried."

"Seriously? I could have helped you, stupid! It's more worrisome when I get a call from Friday saying you've gone berserk on the team!" She scoffed, disappearing back over the side of the couch. "Friday?"

The A.I. system answered swiftly, "Yes, Max?"

"Notify Tony that Barnes is back. Tell him to open the door." I knew I was in deep shit, she never used my full name and her tone was anything but happy.

"Right away."

I could hear her sigh from where I lay staring up at the ceiling. The guilt began to grow.

"You didn't even tell Steve! What were you thinking?"

I rose from the rug, leaning up on my elbows to peer up at her. She sat with her head laid back against the couch with it tilted towards the ceiling, her arm draped limply over her eyes. Max was dressed in the same thing she wore yesterday, minus my sweater. The dark colors made her hair a stark contrast against them.

"I wasn't. Steve and I aren't really talking right now. I figured he would just turn me down anyways."

Her arm dropped from her eyes but she didn't look at me. "Whether you and Steve are fighting or not, it shouldn't matter. If you don't want me involved in whatever you're doing, that's fine, but Steve should be there to protect you and the others. He's the only other one strong enough that can do it without hurting you." Max pushed off the couch. "I thought you and I were closer than this, Bucky."

I didn't know how to respond to her. I couldn't. I didn't know what I was thinking when I decided not to let her in on it. Maybe I was embarrassed that I wanted to remember her so badly. Of course I was, I risked everyone's life just to try to get even the smallest memory of her back. "I-"

"Save it." Max stopped right before the elevator doors. "I really can't hear it right now." Her voice was broken and soft. Barely above a whisper.

I watched her as the doors opened and she stepped inside. Her back was still facing me when the doors shut behind her.

_____

I had retired to my rooms for most of the morning after Max left. I didn't come out for breakfast and nearly skipped lunch if it hadn't been for Natasha who had shown up pounding on my door yelling about self pity. She told me to come out or she'd break my door down and I believed her. So, I ended up hauling myself up out of the corner of my room where I had spent the majority of my morning running though last night's events and contemplating what I should do to fix the mess I had made to return to the commons room and face the team.

All of them stared at me when I walked in. Well, all of them except for Sam and his ugly grinning mug. "Well I'll be damned. If it isn't Sergeant Grumpy come to join us once again. Can't say I didn't miss you."

I rolled my eyes, shooting him a silent look of irritation. Tony, who leaned against the bar next to the coffee maker, gave me a curt nod. I dipped my head in return and scanned the rest of the room. A wary Doctor Banner sat on the far couch like he did every morning with Natasha, both of which were watching me with varying expressions of caution. I didn't care to look at them too long.

Steve made a point not to look me in the eyes. He avoided even acknowledging my entrance at all. I sighed, the absence of his friendship was like an open wound. I made my way to the food all set out on the counter and made myself a plate, piling it all on and gunning for the fridge. I snagged a random bottled drink from the door and shut it with my heel, b-lining for my room once more. I shot a quick thank you over my shoulder as I left them all behind.

Lunch wasn't anything special today and I could tell by the plainness of it that Max hadn't bothered to come out of her rooms to cook for everyone this morning. I shoveled a spoonful of green beans into my mouth, thinking once more over all that had happened. I felt like shit. Max hadn't been in the commons room with the others and I knew she was still angry with me. No, she hadn't seemed angry. Well, not all angry when I had seen her this morning. She was sad too. I hated myself for making her feel that way.

I groaned, shoving my empty plate aside onto the side table and slumping down on the edge of the bed. What was I going to do? I had to apologize. To both her and Steve. It was pathetic that he and I were arguing over something like this. I was sure we could get past it if we both talked it out. Steve had a level head on his shoulders, and even if what I wanted wasn't what he thought was right, he would understand eventually. I just knew it. That's was just how Steve was.

I turned my head to check the time. Two sharp. He would probably be in his rooms if there wasn't a mission. Steve liked to have the afternoons mostly to himself to review files alone. I decided to head over to his room.

The hall was quiet enough that I could hear the pages turning from behind the door to his room. Strangely enough, my palms began to sweat and my heart beat a little quicker. I shouldn't have been nervous to talk to him. I raised my hand and gently knocked on the hard metal. A moment later, I was facing Steve. Staring right back into his hard eyes.

"What is it, Buck?"

I grimaced at his tone, "Could we talk?"

He stared at me a minute before blowing out a breath and opening the door completely. Once we were both inside and the door shut heavily behind us. I turned to him. "Look, I'm sorry for the way I acted. It's just, I don't understand why you're so against Max and I."

Steve raised an eyebrow, "You don't understand. You haven't ever seen her in action the way the rest of us have. She's dangerous, Bucky."

I frowned, "I'm dangerous too. I attacked all of you just last night, but you still keep me around."

Steve sighed, talking a slow seat on the side of his bed to look up at me with crossed arms. "She's different. None of us know her. We know only what she's told us and all of that could be a complete lie for all we know. I know you Bucky, I know what you're like and your agenda. I don't know hers or if she cares enough about anyone to have one. She's a loose cannon."

A flash of heat rippled in my stomach. "She isn't a loose cannon Steve, she cares about everyone on the team including you."

Steve scoffed and the sound grated against my ears, "She cares about you. That's it. She says it in the way she fights. Snow will do anything to make sure you live. It doesn't matter who stands in her way. She broke my nose to prove a point, cracked some ribs too. She tore Stark's suit apart like it was wrapping paper. That was how she was raised, her whole life's mission is to ensure you live."

I shook my head, "She was just trying to help me."

"That's the thing! She helps you. If you weren't a part of this team and you were still with Hydra, she would be too. If Hydra captured you, where do you think she would go?"

The silence was deafening.

knew where she would go, and so did he. Max had been watching me for longer than I knew. The memories that I had indicated that we were more than what meets the eye, and what she had told me over the time we had spent together had cemented my suspicions. "That doesn't mean she doesn't care about the team, Steve. Max has done so much to help us take down Hydra already, why do you keep focusing on her past? You never did that with me."

"That's because I know you, Bucky. I don't know her, nobody does! That's what I'm tryin to get you to see! Snow makes you lie. You didn't tell me about wanting to try to experiment with the Winter Soldier."

"That didn't have anything to do with her," I ground out. "You can't see how she makes me feel, Steve. You can't get over the fact she worked for the enemy just like me, and now she wants to get out of it. Max is not an enemy."

For a long moment, we both just stared at each other. There was a broken look in Steve's eyes as his lips pursed and the grip he held on his arms tightened. My hands hung limp at my sides and I scrubbed one over my eyes to wipe away the moisture collecting there. "I just wanted to apologize for what happened." I took one last look at him before I turned around and left, shutting the door behind me.

A wave of exhaustion swept through me after I had left. My emotions were a jumbled up mess and all I could think about was how guilty all of this was making me feel. Steve and I had hardly ever had arguments and if we did, they were never this serious. I didn't even want to think about how angry Max was with me. She had sounded so hurt when she left the commons room this morning. A pang shot through my chest at the image of her face that had branded itself in my head. I should have told her.

"Friday?"

"Yes, Sergeant Barnes?" Friday always sounded so calm.

I stared at the floor, "Where is Max?"

"Max is training in the gym," she replied.

I nodded, "Thank you, Friday."

I could almost hear a smile on the A.I.'s voice, "Of course."

I trudged to the elevator, riding it down to where she was in complete silence. My mind sputtered the closer I got to her. I didn't want to mess this up.

When the door opened, I could hear the faint sound of metal on metal. I peered through the glass windows that lined the training area and was surprised to find Max there, all dressed in black, throwing knife after knife directly into a target yards from her. There had to be a dozen blades sticking out of every target, and all of them were dead centered. Head and heart of every one of them.

Max's melodic voice trickled from inside. "It's brave of you to show up when I'm armed." I could tell by the chill of her tone that she was still upset.

I shook my head, opening the door and carefully shutting it behind me. She didn't turn to face me and instead continued to throw her knives at the targets. Each one hit with a resonating clang. Max had requested to use metal targets for a more challenging training, she had told Tony that the wooden ones fell apart too quickly. 

“I'm sorry." I stopped just beside her as she drew her arm back, "I should have told you what I planned on doing, and I'm sorry that I didn't."

Max launched the knife through the air and it thunked into the head of the target. She spun on her heel without missing a beat, her white hair pinned up in a small ponytail at the back of her head, and her striking eyes met mine. They were steely and hard, almost as reserved as they had been the day we first met. "Why did you do it?"

There was the big question. "I..." I stared at her, feeling the way my heart lurched at the coldness in her gaze. "I wanted to remember you… like before."

After the words fell from me it was like they had physically melted the ice that had frozen in her. "You what?" I had never heard her voice so quiet, so vulnerable before.

"I wanted to remember you from before. The memories I have, they're only fragments. There's more to them than I can grasp and I want to know what it was like to know you before."

Max went quiet, her stormy blue eyes glossing over and her fingers tremble just slightly at her sides. I watched her with a heaviness settling in my chest, the feelings living inside of me that were both my own and something else pounded against my ribs to escape.

When she spoke, her voice was soft and soothing. Gone was the ice that had been laced through it just moments before. "Why didn't you just tell me? I could have tried to help you more."

I dropped my head, "I was embarrassed to tell you. I was afraid it would scare you away, that the fact that I was so messed up inside I couldn't even remember much about you. I mean, we just went on a date last night and…" I chuckled dryly.

Soft fingers delicately lifted my chin to meet her eyes. A hurricane of pain raged behind them and for an instant I felt like I would drown, dragged down into the depths of them. But then I was pulled back.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed about your feelings. Ever." Her hand dropped from my face back down to her side. "I am not so easily deterred. I know what you've been through." Max ran her hand through the end of her short ponytail, "I wouldn't ever judge you for that."

Looking at her and hearing her words, I suddenly realized how much of an idiot I had been in the last twenty four hours. Here was this woman standing before me, baring nearly the same scars as my own, and I was afraid to tell her how I felt. I fisted my hands at my sides and closed the distance between us, wrapping her in a hug. "I'm sorry, Max. It won't happen again, I swear it."

Max was stiff under my hold for a moment, but the longer I held onto her the more she relaxed, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and gripping my shirt. She buried her head against my neck and I felt her warm breath there as we held each other.

"I forgive you." The words were barely a whisper against my skin. I pulled away, admiring the way her lip quirked upwards in a small half smile. "I have quite a bit of time left to train if you want to join me." The teasing lure in her voice was back, and I knew we would be alright.

I smiled down at her, nudging her shoulder with my own as I passed. "I don't know if you can take me now. I've been trying some new moves."

A brow was quirked in my direction, "Is that a challenge, Tin Man?"

I squinted at her in disdain, "You've been spending too much time with Tony."

Max's laugh rang through the training room like bells and I found myself smiling all throughout the time we trained.

She won, of course.

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