#and just stare mindlessly at the fridge

[nickfowlerrr]

everything comes out teenage petulance

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, talk of insecurities, talk of rejection, virgin!reader but no smut - just mentioned, mutual pining - requited love - leaning toward idiots in love, hurt/comfort, pet names (sweetheart, doll), happing ending per usual. if i’m missing something important, pls lmk!

words: 4.3k

aspen!!! it’s crazy you sent this bc i was just about to start writing a little bucky fic and what better gif to use than this 😌 lol seriously perfect timing! tysm 🥰🫶🏻

and another huge thank you to you, ray for helping me out with the final edit!! @whatever-lmaoo i appreciate you sm! 🫶🏻

notes: had an idea, saw this gif, and then bam! here we are. yes i was clearly listening to down bad while working on this, but i promise it is not as sad as the song! also this fic is insanely self indulgent and i’m not even a little bit sorry lol. i do hope you enjoy this, and thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so so appreciated! let me know your thoughts 🩵

You’re holding in the emotions threatening to spill out of you as you step off the elevator to the living quarters of the tower. You know no one else is here, everyone out on missions or gone for some downtime out of the city, but still, there are cameras everywhere and you don’t need your impending breakdown to be recorded.

You pull your slipping bra strap up your shoulder and mindlessly pull at the hem of your dress as you walk further into the darkened living room, your heels clicking on the floor as you go.

Your head is down as you near the kitchen so you don’t see the light radiating from the open fridge, but you hear it as the door closes loudly. You startle and whip your head to the kitchen, finding the one person you really don’t need seeing you in your current state staring over at you.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathe as you have a hand over your heart. His mouth is open as his eyes scan your body, roving up and down and making you feel even more self conscious than you were before. “What are you doing, I thought I was the only one here for the weekend?”

“Little early for Halloween, isn’t it?” He asks, ignoring your question.

Your brows furrow in confusion, “What?”

“You’re dressed like a clown, aren’t you?”

You’re essentially frozen as you take in his words. The fear that came over you at his surprise appearance had your self pity and consciousness forgotten for a moment but now it was back. And it was worse. You don’t do anything but stare at him for a second, you’re afraid if you speak or even try to move you will break down in tears and - fuck - you can feel your eyes welling as they begin to sting. You take a sharp breath and swallow hard, nodding once as your lips purse and you blink. You turn stiffly and walk away without a response.

He’s right behind you, though and you don’t make it two steps before Bucky grabs your arm.

“Wow, hey, come on, I was joking,” he breathes a disbelieving laugh as he tries to turn you toward him.

You fight him and pull your arm away, “okay,” you huff, just wanting to get away from him before the dam really breaks.

He lets you go but trails behind you as you walk faster down to your room.

You push your door open and don’t turn around as the tears finally begin to fall, trying to shut the door behind you without having to look at him.

He sticks his foot in front of the door as you try shutting it and keeps it open.

“Go away,” you nearly growl through tears, your voice sounding tight and if he hadn’t already caught on to your crying, there was really no way to deny it now.

He doesn’t say anything but he does push your door open enough to slip through it. It falls shut as you stand with your back to him, sniffling and trying desperately to stop the flow of tears that are drowning you, arms crossed over your chest as you work to control your breathing. You just want him to leave you alone so you can cry in peace.

“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, I really didn’t mean it, I was just kidding,” he begins softly, “but you and I both know I’ve said worse to you before, so,” he hedges, “maybe it wasn’t what I said that made you cry…”

“I dont wanna talk about it, Bucky. Why are you even here? Just leave me alone,” your voice trembles despite yourself.

He sighs heavily and you see him from your mirror as he runs a hand through his hair and takes a cautious step closer to you, “Yeah,” he breathes, “I dont think I’m gonna be able to do that, sweetheart.”

You bristle at the petname and can’t help the sob that leaves you as the reminder of how your date went tonight plays in your head.

“Go away,” you whine as more tears fall and you try to turn further from him - as if that were possible. Your eyes squeeze shut in a futile attempt to stop crying, a pathetic pout on your lips as you try to stifle your sobs.

A gentle pull on your arms has you turning around, you don’t have it in you to stop him as Bucky gingerly pulls you closer. You’re too embarrassed to open your eyes as you cry harder and when you feel his strong arms around you, holding you to him, the tears only come faster. You feel yourself lean into him as you mindlessly bury your face in his chest, hugging him tight like he’s the only thing keeping you upright.

His warm hand is rubbing up and down your back as your walls continue to crumble around him.

“It’s not fair,” you blubber like a child into his shirt.

He doesn’t respond, waiting for you to continue as he keeps rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you, his brows furrowing as he wonders what could’ve happened tonight to cause this.

He’s never seen you this way and he hates it - hates that you’re upset and crying, anyway. The way you feel in his arms, holding onto him like this, well that’s a different story…

He’s keeping his anger at bay until he knows exactly what went down, but he knows you had a date tonight, and the only reason he’s here when he had plans to be out of town this weekend is because you were going to have the place to yourself, and he couldn’t get the idea of you bringing your date back here alone out of his head. Immature, sure, but he didn’t know what else to do but wait around to scare whoever it was you were out with away before they had a chance to so much as see you out of your shoes.

He’s even more grateful now that he decided to change his plans last minute. He was surprised to see you coming in alone, and if he wasn’t so caught up in how damn good you looked tonight, he probably would’ve noticed your mood before he decided to open his stupid mouth. But that’s your thing; the teasing, the bickering, the tit for tats. He was expecting a jab right back, but when he saw your eyes watering at his words, he felt sick. He couldn’t let you walk away crying, he couldn’t stand to see you so upset. Especially because of him. But now, as you stand here in his arms, so uninhabited and vulnerable, he knows it wasn’t because of him. And when he finds out exactly what or who it was that made you so upset… god help them.

“It’s not fair,” you mumble your cry again, “I just,” you hiccup, “why can’t I be pretty,” you sob.

It’s takes a second for the words to register before Bucky can react. “What?” he questions harshly, pulling you away from him, his hands on your arms as your tear streaked face and bleary eyes peer up at him.

Your eyes squeeze shut again as your crying continues and you fall into him again, not wanting to look at him as you make your confession. “I just want,” you cry, “to be pretty. I want someone to like me. To love me,” you eke out, your heartbreak evident in your voice. “No one loves me,” you mutter defeatedly. “No one’s ever loved me and no one is ever gonna love me,” you sob, grabbing his shirt as you cry into his chest harder.

“What exactly did this asshole say to you?” Bucky knows he needs to calm down but what he’s hearing from you right now is going to drive him insane. Why in the world would you ever say or think this about yourself? Your date had to have done or said something, he’s sure of it.

“Nothing,” you dismiss, “I mean, nothing wrong or mean. They were nice about it, I just,” you can’t help but cry more. “I’m not their type. Which is fine,” you try to shake your head and rationalize yourself into stopping crying, “that’s fine, I know I’m not everyone’s type,” you gesture vaguely down your body, “and I wasn’t super into them, either, I was just trying to put myself out there for once and I just, ugh,” you bemoan. “I dont know why I was expecting anything different. It’s never been different, won’t ever be different. I’m just, me. And they said what everyone always thinks, I’m a sweetheart, I’m just not their type,” you shrug before your tears bubble up once more and you let your face fall back into Bucky’s chest.

“If I was skinny, or pretty, or nicer,” you babble before Bucky cuts you off.

“Doll, stop it,” he orders firmly, surprising you as he suddenly lifts you effortlessly off your feet and has you clinging to him as he walks the short distance to sit you on your bed.

You’re stunned silent as tears continue to roll down your cheeks and even more surprised as Bucky kneels before you, making sure you’re looking him in his clear blue eyes. His gaze is intent and penetrating and you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. He’s so close…he’s never been this close to you before and you feel your breath trapped in your chest as you watch him.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says seriously, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and you’re an idiot for ever thinking otherwise.

His sincerity has your stomach twisting and your shame and disbelief has your tears falling again.

Your lips quiver as your pout remains, and you shake your head.

“Don’t do that,” he admonishes, hand gently grabbing your chin and making you look at him again. You swallow hard at the soft touch and the tenderness in his eyes. “Hear me when I say this, doll. You are absolutely beautiful. Exactly the way you are. Fuck ‘type’.”

You wince at his words, and you can’t help but look away again. It’s easy for him to say, he’s goddamn gorgeous and everyone knows it.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but you really just don’t get it,” you shake your head. “You could walk down the street and get anybody you wanted with one look,” you smirk softly. “You’re everybody’s type.”

“You don’t need to be anyone’s ‘type’, sweetheart,” he says.

“Yeah, and I’m not,” you reiterate harshly before taking a breath, not wanting to work yourself up again. This is stupid and you know it and it feels even more mortifying to be talking about this with not only the most attractive man you’ve ever known, but also the man you’ve been down bad for for so long. Deep down you know you don’t really care what most anyone else thinks, there’s really only one person you care about not finding you attractive, and you’ve worked to get over that sting of unrequital for a long while now, but fuck, everything just feels so heavy tonight. It’s not even that it’s just not him, which still gets to you every time you’re reminded of it, it’s that it’s not anyone.

And it’s not that you even want anyone else… you don’t, but knowing there’s really no one interested in you, the very real prospect of being alone forever, it got to you tonight…

“You don’t know that,” he says lowly.

“Bucky,” you roll your eyes, not only in annoyance, but also to keep the threatening renewal of tears at bay.

“So what you’re not some random person you don’t even like’s type,” he dismisses, placing his hands on your thick thighs as he stays kneeled before you, and you aren’t sure if he even realizes he’s doing it as his thumbs rub there softly, “you’re my type,” he defends.

You could curl up into a ball right now and die, there is no way you’re this fucking pathetic you have Bucky Barnes on his knees trying to convince you he thinks you’re pretty. As if this night couldn’t get any worse or more embarrassing.

You’ve seen the people Bucky has brought back here before. He certainly had a type, and you are certainly not it.

“You don’t have to say that, Bucky,” you blink away from his gaze. “It’s nice that you feel bad for me,” you sniffle, wiping at your tears with the sleeves of your dress, “but you really don’t have to.”

“Why do you think I feel bad for you?” He questions, moving to look you in the eyes once more, his confusion clear on his face.

You shrug, turning your head to again avoid eye contact, “I’m pathetic,” you laugh sardonically, wiping at the tears still slipping, slower now but still evident.

“You’re pathetic?,” Bucky chuckles, his soft touches on your thighs ceaseless. He bites his lip as he glances down to his hands, spreading his fingers wide before he squeezes you a bit, and if you aren’t reading into it, you’d say he seems the slightest bit nervous, his hold on you as much to try to comfort you as it is to comfort him, “I’m the one who bailed on guys weekend just to make sure you didn’t bring anyone home tonight,” he admits, causing you to finally look him in the eye again. What did he just say? You’re baffled and it’s evident as your brows furrow and you frown. He continues, “Or if you did, to make sure they wouldn’t stay long,” he half smirks, half grimaces.

“What?” you breathe out.

“Not the most mature move, I know, but,” he says, running a hand through his hair before he rubs the back of his neck, having the decency to at least be a little embarrassed by his plan. “The thought of you with someone else…anyone else,” he shakes his head. “I can’t stand it.”

You can’t possibly be hearing what you’re hearing, right? You don’t move or speak for a long moment as you try to make sense of what Bucky’s saying to you because clearly you’re not hearing correctly.

“You can’t stand…” you process aloud, “the idea of me being with someone?”

He breathes a laugh as you stare at him dumbly, his nervous habit of pushing his long hair back from his face shines again while he chuckles. “Doll, I can’t stand the idea of you being with anybody who isn’t me,” he clarifies.

“What are you-?” you shake your head, “What do you mean?”

His big hands return to your thighs as he gently squeezes you. “I mean that if you had come home with someone tonight, I would’ve made sure they didn’t stay more than a minute to say goodbye.”

You snort a laugh, wiping another tear from your cheek. That’s crazy.

“Please. ‘M not that kinda girl anyway, Buck,” you say. “I uhm,” you clear your throat, clearly a little uncomfortable with what you’re about to say, but fuck, you’ve already embarrassed yourself this much tonight, what’s a little more confessing gonna hurt, “I’ve never…done, anything. With anyone.” You admit, looking down at your hands in your lap.

It’s a moment before Bucky speaks again.

“Never?”

You shake your head slowly side to side, lips pursed, “No,” you murmur.

“That’s impressive,” he breathes.

You quirk a brow at his response.

“Mean, you gotta be batting people off like crazy,” he says, his warm hand once resting on your thigh now thoughtlessly trailing down the soft skin of your leg.

“No,” you state slightly annoyed and ever embarrassed. “Not like anyone’s ever been interested,” you trail off.

Bucky laughs again, not so nervous now, more in disbelief, “You’re so blind,” he muses, “I feel so bad for everyone who has ever been interested in you.”

Your face shows your taken offense but Bucky keeps talking before you can say a word about it.

“If you really think no one’s ever been attracted to you, you’re fucking crazy, sweetheart.”

You gape like a fish for a millisecond, opening and closing your mouth as you blink down at your thighs, his metal hand holding your right thigh softly and the fingers of his right hand dancing along the exposed skin of your left.

“I’m not crazy,” you mutter as his hand slips higher up your leg.

“You are,” he argues lightly, “and you make me crazy,” he says softer, blue eyes gleaming up at you. “Have you not heard a word I’ve said tonight?” He pauses, debating on whether or not he wants to say what he’s about to say before he decides to throw caution to the wind and finally admit his true feelings to you, as clearly as he possibly can this time. “You’re all I ever think about. Not just because of how pretty you are, either,” he smirks, growing more confident now and loving the way you react to his touch as his hands smooth along your soft thighs, goosebumps rising in his wake as he hears your breathing stutter. “It’s so much more than that,” he breaths in, “it’s every single thing about you. Your snark,” he smiles, “your strength. Your bravery, your stubbornness. Your lame jokes,” he pauses to admire the slant of your lips as you fight a soft smile, “your laugh. Your kindness, your friendship. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. The whole damn package, doll. And that’s without even bringing looks into it, because fuck,” he scoffs, “it’s a real shame you don’t see what everyone else sees.”

You dare a glance back at his penetrative gaze, “…And what, exactly, is that?” you reply timidly, but desperately wanting to hear his answer.

“A real life goddess,” he admires as he leans closer to you, his hands now well under the hem of your dress as they inch further and further up your thighs.

Your stomach is in a flurry as a tingle sparks inbetween your legs at his touch.

He leans up to you slowly, testing your waters as he gets closer and closer to your lips. You’re barely breathing when his nose brushes yours and you take a shaky breath when his hands leave your thighs and come to gently hold your face.

“You’re insanely pretty, and likable, and lovable, and you don’t need to be skinny for anyone to find you attractive. You’re gorgeous, inside and out. And I don’t wanna hear you talking about yourself like you were ever again, you hear me?” He questions quietly, intent but caring as he holds your glistening gaze in his.

You nod lightly, knowing tonight you weren’t your typical self. You had a hard night, and you let those old mean, destructive and intrusive thoughts get to you. You really do know better, but you’re human. And everybody has those days. You’re suddenly feeling even more grateful for Bucky’s unexpected presence tonight. If he wasn’t here, you’re sure you’d have spent the night in a spiral of self hatred and pity and would’ve probably cried yourself to sleep.

Your tears are dry now, though. And Bucky is still so close, his touch so gentle as his brilliant blue eyes swim with his care for you. You’ve seen it before, but it’s never felt so real and intimate as it does now, knowing what you know now.

He’s here tonight because of you. For you.

He’s not expecting anything, and you’re not sure how much you’re ready to give, but as he smiles that lopsided smile at you, you can’t help yourself as you lean into him, too. It’s slow and cautious as your lips brush his, and then you let your eyes flutter closed as you finally kiss him. It’s almost embarrassing how many times you’ve dreamed of kissing Bucky, but none of them played out like this, none of them ever came close. His lips are soft, his hands firm as he holds your face and you readily let him lead you as he kisses you back.

It ends all too quickly as he pulls away slightly, his tongue slipping past his lips as he savors the taste of you, his forehead touching yours as he maintains your closeness.

“And just for the record, I don’t think you look like a clown,” he shakes his head while you let out a quiet laugh. “I think your makeup looks great, and this dress,” he sighs with a near groan, moving his hands to settle on your wide hips, squeezing ever so slightly, sending more sparks to light in your core as you almost mewl at his touching, “I know you know you look good,” he smirks. “I was just being stupid wanting your attention.”

“Well,” you start with a slight eye roll, “I mean, who could really blame you?”

He smiles brightly at that, his laugh warming you as he leans in to kiss you again. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Your girl?” You ask, a near whisper as his words have your heart skipping a beat, eyes still closed from the kiss before you slowly blink them open. He nods.

“If you wanna be,” he breathes, blue eyes bearing into yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to finally admit how crazy I am for you without making myself look like a complete idiot,” he simpers, his signature smirk on display, “obviously didn’t avoid that, but, now you know. I’m crazy about you, doll.” His thumb rubs your cheek softly as he keeps you close, “I wanna be with you,” he breathes, “in any way you’ll have me. So, if you wanna be my girl,”

You smile softly, nodding as you cut him off, “I wanna be.”

You see his toothy smile before Bucky kisses you hotly as he surges up without warning, hoisting you up with him as you squeak into his mouth, arms clinging around his neck as his own hold you under your bottom. His strength is so effortless it surprises you for a second, but in an instant you get more comfortable in his hold as he continues kissing you. His smile grows on his lips as you kiss him back in kind until you’re forced to break away for a breath.

“I’m not happy you were so upset earlier,” he says as he catches his breath, forehead pressing to yours as you tuck his falling hair behind his ears while he holds you, “but I’m so fucking glad you came back here alone.”

“Well, I’m not happy you were trying to ambush me,” you joke, “but I’m really glad you were here tonight,” you whisper the words as your hands play in his hair, noses brushing, you’re still so close.

You’re staring into each other’s eyes until your gaze falls to his lips. Bucky kisses you again, so much softer than he did before.

“Me too,” he whispers softly. You smile and then pat his shoulders. He gets your message and gently lets you go as your heels touch the floor.

“I know it’s late,” he starts, closing the small distance between you as he takes a step closer, not wanting to be too far from you, already missing your proximity, “but you were expecting a nice date tonight, and you didn’t get one,” he sighs, “I just don’t think that’s right,” he exhales with that ‘hear me out’ purse of his lips. You eye him expectantly, fighting a smile as you wait for him to get it out.

“What do you think about catching a movie and grabbing food at that place you like? With me,” he adds as if it wasn’t obvious, earning a bright laugh from you for the first time tonight. “It’s a Saturday, so you know they’re open late anyway,” he rambles.

You lean into him with your shoulder as you stand so close to each other, getting his attention back on your face as you smile. “I would really like that, Bucky,” you nod. “I’m just gonna,” you wave a hand around your face, “fix this up a bit.”

He laughs as he rubs a streak of black from under your eye, “still beautiful,” he simpers.

Your entire body warms at his touch and his admiration as you grab his hand gently in yours and pull him closer. He seems to read your mind as his arms circle you and he leans in to take your lips in his.

It’s sweet and so natural it’s hard to believe you guys hadn’t done this sooner. The friendship was always there, but you never knew the feelings were too. All this time you convinced yourself your harbored feelings for Bucky were unreciprocated, and all the while, he was trying to figure out how to confess his own to you.

You laugh quietly into the kiss, amusement playing on your lips as you think back on every encounter you’ve had with Bucky that had you falling harder and harder for him.

“What’s funny?” He asks as you part with a grin.

“It’s just, all so obvious now,” you giggle. “I always thought I was reading into things with you, that you were just being nice, just wanted to be friends,” you trail off, swaying closer to him in your heels. “But, this whole time,” you blink up at him, lips parted gently as he keeps your body to his, holding you close.

“This whole time,” he simpers, a soft smile on his lips. “What the hell took us so long?”

“Uhm,” you muse aloud, “probably our combined stupidity,” you joke as he chuckles, his smile never wavering as he keeps his eyes on you, “but, let’s just call it fate,” you shrug on a soft exhale. You lean closer to Bucky even more, letting your lips brush his again, the feeling one you don’t think you’ll ever tire of, “no better time than the present, right?”

[bro-atz]

morning juice [bro's 1k — wooyoung]

in which: you and wooyoung share more than just breakfast.

pair: wooyoung/afab!reader

word count: 1.9k

content: smut, reader is in an open relationship with wooyoung's roommate, kitchen sex, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact!

Wooyoung knew that you and his roommate weren’t exclusive. While you weren’t seeing anyone else for the time being, his roommate would occasionally hook up with other girls every so often. Wooyoung asked you multiple times why you didn’t decide to do the same, and you would always tell him that it was because you didn’t find anyone else that appealing yet.

What you didn’t know was that Wooyoung kept asking you that question because he wanted to ask you out, but he couldn’t figure out exactly how to phrase it. Were you open to actually dating, or were you only looking for casual relationships like the one you had with his roommate? No matter how hard he tried to figure it out, he couldn’t, so Wooyoung just decided to keep his mouth shut because he didn’t want to lose his friendship with you.

There was one thing about your relationship with his roommate that bugged him though, and that was the fact that he could hear you both whenever you hooked up. You were both pretty loud, and everything that he could hear turned him the fuck on— and he was ashamed to say that he beat himself off a couple times when he heard your melodious moans and sighs through the thin walls of his apartment.

One morning, he woke up to hear the two of you giggling in his roommate’s bedroom. His eyebrow twitched with slight irritation the louder your giggling got. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh like that. He wanted to hear that laugh while you laid in his arms and hugged him close so early in the morning. Was that too much to ask?

Begrudgingly, Wooyoung got out of bed to get started with his day. He trudged to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stared mindlessly into the fridge. He didn’t know what to eat, so he just left the fridge open and continued to stare at the contents inside as his roommate entered the kitchen.

“Hey, if you’re not going to grab anything, close the fridge,” he lectured before closing the door in front of Wooyoung’s face.

“I was trying to figure out what to eat,” Wooyoung responded as he frowned.

“Well, don’t waste electricity.”

Wooyoung turned and faced his roommate, only to see that he was dressed and ready to head out. He looked at him, his face the epitome of a question mark.

“Where are you going this early in the morning?”

“I got a breakfast date. I’ll see ya later.”

With that, Wooyoung’s roommate left the apartment, leaving Wooyoung slightly flabbergasted. How could he just leave you here to go on a date with someone else? It felt wrong, but he wasn’t the one in an open relationship with you, so who was he to judge? Wooyoung turned back to the fridge and finally settled on grabbing a couple of fruits from the fridge and making himself a fruit salad.

He was peeling oranges when you sauntered into the area. You stifled a yawn and greeted him.

“Morning, Wooyoung,” you said sleepily.

“Morning…”

Wooyoung was still focused on the oranges when you sat in the bar stool at the end of the kitchen island. When you sat down, he finally looked up at you, and he immediately smirked as he popped an orange slice into his mouth.

“Did you sleep in my shirt? That’s hot,” Wooyoung said as soon as he laid eyes on you.

“Oh, yeah, sorry I borrowed— Sorry, did you just say “that’s hot”?” you stopped mid sentence as soon as Wooyoung’s words fully processed in your head.

“I mean, yeah. You usually wear Yunho’s shirts whenever you spend the night. The fact that you’re wearing mine… You look really hot, Y/N.”

Your face went red. You avoided eye contact with him and tugged at the hem of his shirt. You could barely let out a weak thank you, making the other man laugh at your reaction.

“You can’t take a compliment, Y/N?”

You kept your gaze on your lap as you shook your head. Wooyoung looked at you a little more closely, his heart skipping a beat as he suddenly felt a surge of courage course through his body. He wiped his hands on the kitchen towel and approached you. He held the bottom of your shirt, immediately making you snap your eyes to him.

“When are you going to give me my shirt back, then?” Wooyoung asked.

“Uh, I d-don’t— Sh-should I wash it first?” you stuttered.

“I don’t know… I kind of want my shirt back now.”

You blinked a couple of times, your brain unable to process what you were hearing. The words then flew out of your mind when he tugged your— his— shirt upwards slowly. You stared at him with wide eyes as he maintained eye contact with you, his intentions (finally) extremely clear to you.

“Is that okay?” Wooyoung asked. “Can I have my shirt back now?”

Gulping, you nodded. Wooyoung pulled the shirt off, revealing your bare breasts and leaving you in nothing but your panties. He let the shirt fall to the ground and immediately cupped your breasts, a soft exhale leaving your lungs as he massaged your breasts. You uttered profanities under your breath the more Wooyoung kneaded. He leaned in close to you, his lips teasing yours. You tilted your head and tried to kiss him, but he moved away right as your lips brushed his, making you whine slightly.

“You sure about that, Y/N?” Wooyoung asked teasingly. “You sure you want to cross this line with me?”

“Nngh, can you please just kiss me?” you complained.

“I want verbal confirmation from you, Y/N.”

“Yes, Wooyoung. I want to cross this line with you.”

Wooyoung smirked. He finally connected his lips to yours, electricity running through your body. You moaned and ran your fingers through his hair as you deepened the kisses, the man leaning into you to the point where you almost fell off the stool.

“Wait,” he whispered breathlessly as he moved his hands from your breasts to your waist.

He lifted you so that you were sitting on the kitchen countertop before smashing his lips against yours. He kissed you hungrily, his hands gripping your thighs and waist repeatedly as he restlessly made out with you.

“Fuck, Wooyoung!” you sighed as he trailed his kisses down your neck, his hand moving up to massage your breast again.

Wooyoung couldn’t even be bothered to respond— he was so focused on devouring and marking every part of you because he had been wanting this for God knows how long. With one hand on your breast, the other went into your panties, his fingers stroking your cunt roughly, impatiently. You could barely support yourself on the kitchen island, so you clung to him instead, your hands gripping his shoulders.

You whimpered and whined when Wooyoung moved away from you. He completely removed his sweatpants, revealing his red, throbbing cock raring to go before quickly pulling your panties off. You licked your lips and reached for him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him close to you. Wooyoung smiled slyly before kissing you, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he rubbed his cock along your entrance. Your legs quivered every time the tip of his cock brushed against your clit, tingles spreading through your stomach the more he rubbed. While you loved the feeling, you needed more.

Luckily, Wooyoung was losing his patience as well. When he deemed you wet enough, he moved away from you so he could slide his cock inside you, making you press your hands flat on the countertop to support yourself. You moaned softly when you felt him enter you, the tingles only getting stronger. You leaned your head back and felt your mind start to empty out as Wooyoung began rutting into you. He moved one of your legs so that it was resting on his shoulder, giving him better access to your cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him hiss, the sound of the profanity leaving his lips making every cell in your body react to him. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip and nodded, a whine leaving your lungs as you agreed with him. You had never heard your cunt sound quite like it did in that moment, squelching with every thrust from the man before you. You leaned back onto the counter top and moaned, your eyes fluttering close and filling the darkness with sparkles. You really were so close. You brought your hand in between your legs and rubbed your clit as Wooyoung focused on keeping his steady pace, the power of his hips only getting stronger. His hands went from your waist to your thighs so he could pull you close to him every time his hips moved. The added stimulation was just enough for you to push him away and let out a loud cry as you squirted onto the countertop, your arousal dripping off the edge and to the floor.

“F-Fuck, Wooyoung!” you cried as you creamed around his cock when he re-entered you, your legs trembling uncontrollably. He let go of your thigh, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, and his hands moved to your breasts to grip them tightly as his thrusts got faster. “ Yes, yes! J-Just like that!”

Wooyoung was grunting, high-pitched whines leaving him every so often as his thrusts got more sporadic. He was truly losing his mind— when you clenched your walls around his cock, he was pretty much ready to cum, but he didn’t want to stop, not when the friction between his cock and your cunt was filling him with insurmountable pleasure.

Yet, he was fucked when you pushed yourself up and quickly held onto him before smashing your lips against his. It certainly did not help that you were rolling your body towards him, changing his angle ever so slightly. As you kissed him, you took his lower lip in between your teeth and bit down lightly, completely breaking Wooyoung. He quickly held your waist and pulled you close as he thrust rapidly into you before cumming, the man moaning against your lips. He had actually tried to pull out before cumming, but you clenched your walls again, stopping him midway through. He came inside you, his cock shuddering as his seed spurt inside you.

“Ah… Fuck,” you moaned as your pleasure slowly died down. “That was so good…”

“Shit,” Wooyoung hissed as he pressed his head into your shoulder. “I came inside…”

“That’s okay, Wooyoung,” you responded as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don’t mind at all.”

“You sure?”

“With you, I’m always sure.”

Wooyoung let out a low exhale as he pulled out of you, his cum seeping out of your cunt and mixing with your arousal before dripping onto the ground. He was completely enamored with the way your red cunt was leaking white, his fingers spreading your lips open to let the rest of him drip out.

“Wooyoung, you’re making a mess,” you muttered with slight embarrassment as you tried to close your legs.

“My kitchen, my problem,” he replied immediately.

“Still…”

Wooyoung couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction. He ended up stopping, allowing you to close your legs and shed your embarrassment. When you slipped off the kitchen countertop and tried to situate yourself though, Wooyoung pinned you in place, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he leaned into you.

“Where are you going? I’m not finished with you yet.”

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[castiwls]

imgonnagetyouback - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'you'll find, that you were never not mine (You're mine)'

Requested; anon

Notes; reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

“He’s on a date?” The book you’d been reading slipped from your hand as the words left your mouth. Sam nodded grabbing his laptop from the table and sending you a slight smile. “He said not to tell you but…” He trailed off shrugging his shoulders. “You were gonna find out anyways.” 

You watch him for a moment, pursing your lips as a pang of jealousy runs through you. Pushing it down you shake your head. “I don’t care.” a lie. “We broke up.” 

Sam paused, watching you for a moment his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the sudden tension in your body. “Sure.” He sounded far from convinced. It wasn't his place to get in between whatever it was you and Dean had going on, he’d tried once before and it had only ended with him being more confused than before.

He watched you for a moment longer as you picked the book back up, slowly thumbing through it. “Night.” He sighed. You hummed a quiet reply your brain going a mile a minute.

He was on a date. You scoffed quietly to yourself placing the book down, you didn’t care. Dean and you weren’t a thing anymore you held no claim over him.

Though the thought of him with another girl left a jealous pit in your stomach. 

Grabbing your phone you quickly checked the time before mindlessly scrolling. At least an hour passed before the sound of footsteps broke the silence which hung in the air. Your head shot up as you looked towards the doorway of the kitchen, a small smile playing on your lips as Dean turned the corner, his eyes widening slightly when he noticed you.

“Good date?” 

He stared at you for a moment before a smile of his own grew on his lips and he nodded. He didn’t say anything else as he walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer before sitting down opposite you. 

You both fell quiet as you went back to your phone. You could feel Dean’s gaze burning through you as he lent back in his chair. “You jealous?”

You looked up a frown pulling at your lips. “Why would I be?” You placed your phone down, crossing your hands on the table. “Well, you did sit up till I came back and…” He leaned forward slightly placing his chin on your hand. “You have that look in your eyes, the one you get when you're pissed but don’t want anyone to know.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t waiting for you, I was helping Sam.”

“Well…I don’t see Sam anywhere.”

“He went to bed not long ago. That's why.”

Dean hummed leaning back. “I don’t believe you.” He pushed himself up from his chair coming to stand beside you. You turned slightly in your chair, looking up as he stopped in front of you.

“You're jealous. I know you are so you may as well just admit it, Sweetheart.” He smirked down at you, his eyes glinting slightly as he nudged your foot with his own.

You glared up at him, your teeth catching on your lip. Part of you really wanted to punch that smirk on his face in that moment, but you also couldn’t deny the way your heart seemed to flutter at his closeness.

“M’not jealous.” You smiled moving to stand. Your breath caught in your throat slightly as your arm brushed his. “I don’t care. We broke up, You're not mine anymore you can do as you like.” 

Dean flattered slightly at your comment as he seemed to think for a moment. “Anyways, can’t have been that good. I don’t see her anywhere.” You hummed before moving to brush past him.

You barely got two steps before a hand wrapped around your wrist. Dean pulled you back, caging you in as your back hit the edge of the table. Your hands flew back to steady yourself as he planned his own beside them. 

“I know what you're doing.” He leaned down his breath ghosting against your lips. “And it’s not going to work.” 

You took a breath, your face still calm as you held his gaze. “I’m not doing anything.” 

He laughed quietly shaking his head. “You waited here on purpose and you knew damn well that I didn’t like her the minute I walked through that door yet you still questioned me.” He looked away for a moment before turning his attention back to you. 

“You think I was trying to rile you up?” You tilted your head, feigning innocence. He was right. You’d known the minute he walked in alone that the date couldn’t have gone that well and you’d also realised that he’d be riled up just enough that if you played your cards right you’d end up getting exactly what you wanted.

And what you wanted back what was rightfully yours. 

This was far from the first break-up you and Dean had ever had and every time it ended exactly the same. You’d break up, he’d go on a date - it hopefully wouldn't go well, he’d come back riled up, and within 24 hours you’d be back together again like nothing had ever happened.

He shook his head, a fond smile growing on his lips. “C’mere.” His lips pressed against yours and you practically melted into his body. 

It was a game you both played. He equally knew how to pull your strings and every time it worked. 

After a moment he pulled back, one of his hands moving to rub circles into your waist. “Bedroom?”

[erwinsvow]

kook trio reader laying with rafe after a long day, scrolling on tik tok, and rafe pretending he’s not watching her phone silently next to her 🥹

omgg yess! this is the silliest cutest prompt ever. i loved it

after a long day of watching the boys play golf, shopping, and having one too many mimosas during lunch at the country club, your little friend group had departed for the day.

however, departed meant rafe was supposed to drive you home but instead had brought you back to tannyhill like he always did. you don't even question it, just following his lead and crawling inside to the comfortable couch in the living room. you get settled, trying to sit properly but finding it difficult.

your golf skirt was a little short, but it wasn't like rafe was gonna care. when you finally get comfy, you find yourself stretched out on the sofa while rafe is seated next to you, staring intently at this laptop. the two of you are barely touching, your head is lying near his side, your hair spilling onto his thigh, but not really touching.

you scroll mindlessly, stopping to watch videos that always come up, make up tutorials and outfit inspiration. then other ones you love, people stocking their fridges up and cleaning.

"what the hell are you watchin'?" rafe questions from his position.

"what d'you mean?"

"is this shit entertaining for you? she's washin' fruit."

"she's showing us her weekly restock, rafe. you don't get it."

"yeah, i don't. these videos are rottin' your brain."

"whenever we scroll on your phone it's always analyzing stocks. and alpha male quotes. i'll take my groceries, thanks-"

"shut up."

you laugh, continuing your scrolling until you reached the weird videos-hydraulic presses crushing objects and soap cutting and slime asmr. you watch some, before swiping away.

"hey. go back. i wanna see what color the last slime was."

"and my brain is rotted?"

[hxltic]

“YOU’VE NEVER SQUIRTED?” KENMA

part 1 | part 2

It was actually a really awkward conversation in the kitchen of his apartment. The fresh toast sizzled against your fingers as you removed it from the toaster, the sun shined bright through his black curtains without quit, and because it was in his disposition to be up ungodly hours, you incorrectly assumed he’d hibernate in his room so you planned to head to your friend’s house for breakfast in a full face and clothes you never wore. Or technically, a full face and clothes you only wore out to places you cared about. Otherwise, you didn’t really dress to impress.

500 FOLLOWERS?!

Footsteps sounded from afar and you retrieved the jelly from the fridge mindlessly.

“Where we going?”

Kenma taunted from his seat found on the island stool. You assumed he’d just woken up, accompanied with doing his daily hygiene because his soft voice still had the slightest rasp to it.

“We?” You jokingly snapped back. Kenma scoffed lightheartedly at you. The refrigerator door closed with a slight push, and Kenma sighed to where he could ask again. Some almost fully black stands came to fall in front of his face as he leaned forward on the cold, stone counter and his hair was pulled into a small ponytail, nothing left of the noticeable blonde but disproportional ends that fall into his large hoodie.

“Where are you going?”

You grab the plate but forget the juice for the morning. Back you go to the fridge almost in a rush.

“I’m going to a friend’s for breakfast, it’s this party thing she hosts every year,” you explain. “Almost like a friendsgiving. She takes it suuuuper serious.”

The juice is in one hand, a random cup in another. You twist around to pour the liquid on the island instead of the main countertop so you could engage in quick conversation with Kenma. As he got older he’s become more expressive and outgoing, just willingly reserved. He has, however, become a handful; and having lived with him, you’ve seen him take shots like a champ. You see his aloofness dissolve, his eyebrow coming up the slightest bit.

“And you’re eating breakfast before going to eat breakfast?” He slowed the pace of his words around the end of the sentence like he was judging you.

“I have to eat in the morning still, or I’ll pass out before I even get there Kenma! I’m kinda a little late though so you can heckle me when I get back.”

“Uhuh…”

Kenma hummed in response with an inconspicuous smirk on his face. You wouldn’t have even seen it if it weren’t for you waiting to see his reaction of your flawless vocabulary. He was however, changing his position to leaning back in the chair, already staring you incredulously. It was somewhat close to a manspread, his hands were tucked into the hoodie pockets, and the sight was way too much for you to handle this early in the morning.

So, you turned around to tend to your idle plate with jelly-less toast on it. You didn’t like Kenma specifically, persay, you would’ve liked it if any boy looked at you like that. Yeah. Don’t think too much about it.

Anyway, with the slide of a drawer you withdrew the knife and got to work. Unbeknownst to you, Kenma had not taken his eyes off your body. Your hair was still slightly wet but it made it easier for you to style. It was up. The backless halter top you wore was connected only by a string at your nape, and it left skin between that and your skinny jeans that fell down to your open toe, clear strap heels. You were dressed perfect for the summer occasion of a girls day out. And he was absolutely sulking in it.

“You look good.”

You hate the slight pause in your actions. You hate the way you had to question if he was talking to you or not, even if you were the only one in the house. You hate that you refuse to turn around to him. You hate the giddy smile that decorated your face. You hate that you had to cover up how everything you hated affected you, so you say “Thank you; flatter me more.”

He just outwardly chuckled, and ended with a “Maybe.” He starts again, “Hey is this who you were on the phone with last night? Who’s at the party I mean.”

“Hm?” Your chin did lead over your shoulder at this. “Yes actually, I’m surprised I’m up as early as I am considering she kept me up all night.” You resume.

“Tell her I said she should break up with him.”

You agree, “I will; she definitely needs to hear it.”

…

Suddenly, you snap your head back around quick enough to give you whiplash. You don’t get embarrassed easily, but you had to be blushing like a bitch.

This time Kenma’s smirk was very noticeable. You blink warily at him.

“Ken… how much did you hear?” Your voice was soft with curiosity mixed and thrown into fear. He just shrugged casually and quickly switched to an innocent façade. One thing you learned about him over the years: he has a badass poker face. And he’s a dick.

Such a dick, in fact, that after reassuring “I wasn’t eavesdropping so I didn’t hear much,” he let you take deep breaths of relief and turn back around to lather your second piece of toast. You felt the golden, low, cat-like eyes burning through the back of your head—so with indecision and obscurity—you looked over your shoulder again. He wore a shit eating grin.

You pointed the butterknife at him accusingly.

“You fucking liar! You heard all of it!!”

Kenma just smiled menacingly.

“I did hear all of it actually; but pushing that aside, why do I feel like I’ve never heard you say some of the words you said?” He tilts his head to the side, completely dismissing you.

“Kenma!?”

“Say pussy.”

This made you stop. You found him unbelievable, and you’d never admit what hearing him say pussy does to your mind, but his head was sideways in pure amusement like he was waiting on you to do it.

“Kenma. What.”

“Say it.”

You just stared at each other.

“Pussy,” you finally repeated. After lingering in the air a bit Kenma’s eyes went wide and he threw his head back to diminish into laughter.

“Kenmaaa.” You groaned loudly. He only laughed harder. “What all did you hear? Seriously!”

He calmed down to just a grin and ushered you to be as well with the palm of his hand.

“Okay okay—mainly the part where she explains how she hates the guy because she feels like he ignores her and has never made her cum—plus some other stuff, blah blah, that’s basically it,” He rambles.

It was your turn for your eyes to run wide, so in astonishment that your body couldn’t even address the other words that rolled out his mouth so easy. “I don’t want basically, I want all of it,” you declare.

“There’s not much more unless you’re including all the other dumb shit he did? Like how he told his friends she did something even if she didn’t, and she felt invalidated about it. I have amazing input on these types of situations by the way.”

Kenma was saying all this without any negative emotion, relaying it to you with normalcy. “The only thing after that was about yourself.”

You roll your eyes, but bingo. So he did hear it. He heard what you didn’t want him to. Your face may have dropped a tiny bit.

“…What was it? About how…I have—“

“—never squirted?” He finishes. Your chest tightened a little, and your face was red with what was anger transforming into something else. His ordinary apathetic gaze was locked on yours for a tiny moment, so you made it your responsibility to look away and grab your food.

“Gotta go now, I’m already late.” You swiftly unhooked the keys from the wall and opened the door. It wasn’t his fault he heard (because to be honest you two weren’t the quietest last night during your girl talk), but just now the fact that he knew upset you. Your best friend made it seem so easy, like she does it all the time, and it just made you seem like you were missing out how she explained it.

However, on your way out, Kenma did call for you from the kitchen. “Not everyone can do it,” He said. It was reassurance, you assume, but it didn’t really come off as such. He then says (more to himself you also assume), “Not everyone can make you do it either.”

This sat with you the whole breakfast/brunch party, champagne being passed around like candy but nothing could stop you from thinking about it. Of course it being a whole room of the closest friends, she re-explained last night’s gossip, the effects hitting you again as your friends chimed in on the situation. Was it really as good as they say?

——•——

You unlocked the house door, the apartment dim and quiet. It was around four now, you weren’t completely sober, and your heels clacked along the tile.

Dropping your arm to sit your purse on the counter and hang the keys, you undo a single strap and slip the shoes off. You carry them in your hand for the journey to your room.

Of course before you can reach your door, there’s Kenma’s slightly cracked open one to remind you of what he said. Not everyone can make you do it either.

What does that even mean; can’t you do it alone? Do you need someone else for it?

You weren’t dumb and at least knew what he was implying. It was an offer. Or maybe it wasn’t, and you’re just horny. Either way you find yourself stopped in front of the entrance to his room. You don’t bother to knock, it falls open with a slight push of your free hand.

Kenma resides at his setup, on his phone, the mic wrapped around his neck. The few moving lights in his room softly radiated from his pc, making him appear to be different strong shades of red and orange depending on when you looked. He didn’t seem to be streaming. Or he could be—he isn’t the nicest to his viewers.

He casts you a glance past his hair but dismisses your presence. You don’t really ever come into his room except to just grab something and go, usually a hair product.

You take a few steps inside. Then, you leisurely drop the heels at his bedside so he finally acknowledges your company.

“Ken?” Your delicate voice breaks the silence of the outside, completely unsure if there was music running through his headphones.

He clicks his phone off so you have his full attention.

“What’s up? How was it?”

You continued taking slow steps forward, with only one thing on your mind. And it wasn’t the party. “It was okay.”

Kenma surveys how you have yet to halt, inching closer and closer to him. It only took a slight examination of your face to see the solemnity. Blankness. He stands up from his seat and removes the headset from himself in concern before you can get any closer.

“You sure? You don’t look—”

“—Kenma. What did you say earlier?” You whisper. He was now directly in front of you.

He pauses for a second and his face converts to disbelief. “Are we still talking about the squirt thing?” He smiles mischievously, “I was just letting you know not to worry about it so much.”

You hate that word. It’s so gross sounding, so vulgar. But you can’t bring yourself to get him to stop saying it.

“Well I have been, so what happens now?” You peer strangely at each other, both acutely aware of where this was going.

“And you’re coming to me for this, why?” The ravenette taunts. He knew exactly why you were in his room right now, the curiosity having ate away at you all day. Like an itch that won’t go. You’ve gotta give in if this’ll go anywhere.

“Well you seem to know a lot about it…” you fumble with your bracelet nervously. You’ve gotten this far. “Could you…maybe help me?”

Kenma makes no sudden movements. He scans you suspiciously. A slight flush of red may have spread across your cheeks, but the darkness around you was protective. Hearing it actually come out of your mouth was a whole different story than imagining it.

“You want me to make you squirt?” He confirmed.

You may have physically cringed at that sentence because his hands find his sweat pockets in a ‘you said it not me’ manner.

“Yes.”

He scanned you again for good measure.

“Alright.”

With this he turned on his heel, stepped away, and sat in his gaming chair again. You stood there blankly, unaware of what to do. “Come here.”

You follow him to his setup. He sighs because he could see how uncomfortable you were.

“What usually do you do to get off?” He questions. He twists you around by your hips, your back facing him.

“Uh…It’s just kinda alone in my room I guess. I use my fingers usually.” You tried to keep your voice low enough to cure your embarrassment. Kenma, however, seemed to be doing this with ease. In fact, as he was asking you questions, he massaged your hips and waist soothingly.

“Is that it? You don’t watch or think about anything?”

You turn your head, “No. Am I supposed to?”

“I mean it’s not mandatory but you gotta think about something.”

“Whatever. Jeez, Kenma just say you think about me already.” You quip. Whatever he was doing was working, you were loosening up.

“Only when I’m about to cum. How do you like to be talked to?”

What?

You weren’t even going to ask about it. It was probably a joke anyway.

A moment of processing silence passed. “I don’t really know how I like to be talked to. Guys have tried to praise or degrade me but it never worked, so I just assumed I didn’t like the talk at all.”

He tugs on the shirt string at your neck. He watches you tense up at the action, so he rubs your trap in slow, circular motions instead. “If I say I like to be praised, all they do is say ‘good girl’ over and over. Gets kinda boring you know?” Is this you venting to Kenma about your boring sex life? Of course. You mess with your nails as you face away from him. Not for long though, because he turns you around.

“This is what I meant by not everyone can make you do it. Only you can guarantee yourself the highest pleasure 100% of the time,” Kenma drags you by your belt loops so you fall into the chair against him, “and me.”

He was so close now, your knees sliding under the chair arm. His breath could be felt on your skin and his hands were still pawing at your waist to glide up your back. You couldn’t bring yourself to put your full weight on him. However, he pulls you down anyway, and manually places your hands along his clothed chest so you could calm down. That was all he wanted from you right now. To relax and to take deep breaths.

“Warnings would be great Ken.”

“Yeah, but you said you don’t like to talk.”

“I don’t.”

“So should I warn you about how hard you make me dressed up like that?”

You moderately gasped at the comment placed right into your collarbone. You pressed down a tiny bit farther to see if you could feel it. You could. His breath fanned against your body and airy kisses lead.

You wonder where all of Kenma’s shyness over the years went because now you would never have guessed him to be like this. The friction fuels him to push you more.

Kenma could go on and on about these random intrusive thoughts he only gets at night—the only time where you seem to engulf his brain. Living with you over the years has been fine with zero temptation, but recently, it’s been like a hormone specifically for you snapped in his body. He feels the way you roll your hips the smallest bit for yourself. You liked the talk, just not the guys.

Soft fingers pull on a single string near your hair, releasing your breasts from the top as the fabric folded downwards between the two of you.

©️ hxltic

[abbyromanoff]

YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE

PAIRINGS: GF!Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 5,142

WARNINGS: Nat is ghost face, smut, killing, blood, dark!Nat, Nat has a dick, cnc, dubcon, daddy kink, begging, praise, degrading, fingering, facials, dry-humping, knives, carving, pain kink, hair pulling, manipulation, size kink, tummy bulges, blowjobs, breeding, unprotected sex, kinda dark!R, very dark descriptions of death, kinda depressed!r, mentions of cheating (no cheating actually happens tho), think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Your eerie apartment was filled with complete silence. You could hear the clock on the wall slowly ticking away at your life, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You couldn’t find it in you to care if your entire existence would vanish in the spot, there was nothing left for you to live for anyways.

You clicked through the channels mindlessly, hoping to find something that could entertain you. The pizza box left on the table had three pieces left - all cold. Your girlfriend had been out for god knows how long. Your phone was next to you, taking Nat’s spot on the couch. It was nearly dead, but that didn’t matter, you didn’t get any notifications anyways.

Suddenly, after minutes of surfing through the tv, the blasting sounds of a breaking emergency filled your ears. The news reporter, a blonde woman most likely in her late thirties, stared dead into your eyes without knowledge of it. She read the words from the telegraph, a small shake in her voice as the man next to her hid a fearful gulp.

It started a few months ago, people reported dead all around the city. The only problem was that it was New York, there were small and large crimes daily; no cop, no matter how good, would ever be able to figure out who was the masked killer.

There had already been over ten found bodies, there was a small part of you who wished you were one of them. Blood would smear the walls of the victim's houses, a new letter to create a large sentence being designed ever so slowly. You wondered what they’d do if they got to each letter, would they stop? Would they be caught beforehand? You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to know.

Every video you found online was all about the same topic, who is this new Ghostface, as they called him. When would he strike again? Is it even a he? You didn’t bother, they were just a bunch of conspiracy theorists who had such little to do in their lives that they became so invested in others. So what if they were crazy? Isn’t everyone at least a little bit?

You could hear the sound of keys dangling outside of your door and rolled your eyes, she was back.

“Hey, beautiful.” She muttered when she got near you, planting a kiss on top of your head and climbing onto the couch. She took the spot next to you, accidentally sitting on your drained phone.

“Look who’s home.” She tried placing her arm around your neck, only to feel you shuffle away. You wouldn’t even look at her, only going to stand up and grab the recycling left on the coffee table.

“Oh, c’mon, are you really mad at me?” She attempted to pull you back down, make you sit with her so she can finally hold you; but you shrugged her off. She sighed, rolling her head back and trying to find comfort in the cheap sofa that did nothing for her.

“Why would I be mad? Because you were out all night and didn’t bother to text me or call me back? Or maybe because you smell like that bitches perfume?” You asked, sarcasm evident in your voice. She groaned and stood back up, yawning as she walked into the kitchen where you stood, back facing her as you scrubbed the dishes.

She watched you for a moment, her side leaning on the fridge as she crossed her arms over her broad chest. She waited for anything else, any other comment, but none came. Instead, she grabbed a warm beer from the six-pack box that was resting on the floor next to the counter. She easily popped open the cap and flicked it in the direction of the trash, hoping it made it in.

Your gaze traveled to the side when you noticed the glass bottle being placed next to you and let out a deep and frustrated sigh as you felt her hands rubbing your arms.

“You really think I’d fuck someone else when I have you right here?” She smirked with pure cockiness, it nearly made you want to puke. When you still did not indicate forgiveness or submitting, her smirk dropped.

“Why don’t you believe me, doll? I give you everything you ask and you still don’t trust me?” You felt her crotch poking your backside and tried to hide the goosebumps that arose to the surface. Her hands were gentle as they moved your hair to one side, letting your neck be displayed as you subconsciously leaned into her pecks. She kissed from your exposed shoulder up to your jawline, stopping there as you felt her hot breath against your cold skin.

“Nat-”

“Shh, isn’t this what you wanted?” You showed no evidence to prove her right. You wanted her to feel bad, it’s what she deserved. Who was she to think she can just take off whenever she wants, fuck who she wants, and have the audacity to get annoyed at your worries.

“You’re so hot when you’re mad, makes me just wanna- take you right here.” You felt her hands slide down your pants and dip into your panties. She audibly gasped when feeling your wetness gushing on her fingers.

“You want this, hm? You want daddy’s fingers?” Your palms gripped the ends of your countertop as her middle finger rubbed your clit slowly.

“More.” You choked out, your hips involuntarily grinding into her, chasing the pleasure. She chuckled, shaking her head and tsking.

“No, no, you need to tell me you want it, baby girl.” Your mouth opened, only to release a silent scream as she eased a finger into you. You fucking hated her, despised her, but she knew you perfectly, she knew exactly how to make you tell her how much you love her.

“I want it.” She hummed, signaling for you to continue. You groaned in annoyance, your hand traveling to your chest where you palmed your tits.

“I want it…daddy. I want you, please.” You struggled to get out through gritted teeth, hating how the words sounded coming from your mouth. This was the last time she’d get away with something through fucking you, you’d tell yourself, yet you seemed to repeat those words in your mind every single time. And every single time you ended up back in this situation, orgasms rushing through you while you acted like a desperate whore for any sort of attention she’d offer.

You wondered if her other woman felt the same as you, who couldn’t despise her every move?

“That’s a good girl, you’re daddy’s good little girl, right?” You nodded, your head falling on her shoulder as you tried to find hold of something. Her cock rubbed against your skin as she fucked herself to your pleasured state.

“Cum with me. Make a fucking mess, you slut.”

Your sleeping body laid with the blanket covering only your chest to the tops of your thighs. Nat was next to you, brushing the hair out of your face and smiling at your state. You look beautiful, you always did, but you looked even better when you were shut up for once. She wished she could just fuck that attitude right out of you.

Of course, she wasn’t cheating, no idiot would do such a thing to someone like you. You were a feisty little thing, if you ever found out she was cheating you’d beat her ass into her own grave and plead insanity - she taught you well.

“I’ll be back soon, pretty girl.” She whispered even when knowing you couldn’t hear such words. You shuffled in your sleep and she gave your forehead one last kiss before standing, finding a new pair of boxers and a bra before grabbing her clothing. She had everything she needed in her bag - her mask, outfit, and most importantly, her knife. The best part about it all was that the knife was a custom design you ordered for her for your first Christmas as a pair. It had her initials on it with a heart next to it, reminding her of your love. Your past love for her at least, everything was different now. She didn’t want to hurt you, but you couldn’t figure her out just yet. She’d tell you eventually, she wanted to, she loved nothing more than bragging about her killings, and with you, she’d finally have someone to do so with.

There was still that fear that you wouldn’t accept it though, it wasn’t exactly an easy topic to be brought up. But she couldn’t wait to prove to you that she was in fact loyal, just maybe not clean of her sins.

With one last glance, she left, closing the door behind her and walking down the stairs of the cheap building, shuffling the bag from shoulder to shoulder. She threw it in the car once she found her keys, settling herself in the driver's seat and preparing herself before driving off, her main destination in mind.

“Alright, Mar, let’s see just how well you handle it.” She mumbled to herself, her elbow slamming into the glass of the woman’s back window. She was in, the easiest part was done, and now it was just her time to have fun.

When you woke in the middle of the night, 2:43 AM reading on the clock, you searched for your lover, only to come up empty-handed. You bit back the bile in your throat and threw the blanket over you angrily, grabbing the suitcase you kept under your bed. It was meant for trips, now it was being used to kick out your girlfriend; if she even was that anymore. You didn’t know what changed her, who changed her, but you were done. If she wanted someone else then she could have them, she already used up all the chances you offered her.

Then, there was the sound of the keys rattling, she was back for the last time. You stood up with the luggage in hand, throwing the door open as you were planning to be greeted by a hickey-stained Nat with more excuses pooling out of her, but there was no one to be seen.

“Get the fuck out here, Nat.” You waited for something, but there was no sign of her. You noticed her keys resting on the ground in front of the door, covered in blood. You gulped, taking a step back from nothing.

“Nat? Babe, where- where are you?” You yelled out, your head turning in all directions to look for her. You still found no one, it was pitch black, and nearly impossible to find any sighting of anything besides the luggage by your feet. Your hands were sweaty as your body was stuck in place, you couldn’t move.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Nat, get out here right now.” Hands landed on your shoulders, a low whisper coming to your ear.

“Boo.” You jumped, turning around only to find a person dressed in all black besides their mask. The face covering looked like the design of a ghost, one that a child would draw as their mother praised them for what a good job they did, even if they knew it was horrible.

The man twirled the knife in his hands, watching your fear grow in your eyes and motions.

“Aww, did I scare you, baby girl?” You were able to really listen in on their voice this time, it sounded familiar. You suddenly regretted everything you had said earlier on, you weren’t ready to die just yet.

“No need to be scared, it’s just me.” The man went down on one knee in front of you, knife still in hand near their leg as his hand ventured to his mask, removing the plastic only to see,

“Nat?” She chuckled darkly, reaching up to switch on the light that was sitting on a small table next to you.

“What the fuck was that?” She tried to reach out for your face, only to be pushed away; she wasn’t having that. She gripped your arm tightly, your wrist starting to ache the more she squeezed. She took pleasure in seeing such pain and fear in your features, it somehow made you all the more beautiful.

“Nat- stop it, you’re hurting me.” She smiled darkly as you spoke.

“Perfect.” You thought this was the end, she was going to kill you, your girlfriend was going to kill you. But there seemed to be no move made to do so.

“If you’re going to kill me just get it over with already.” She let go of your arm and you noticed the tensity in her jaw increasing, her head turning just enough for her darkened glare to look all the more dangerous.

“Oh, baby, you really think I’d kill you? There’s no point, it’s not like anyone would miss you.” The words hurt even more than your wrist in the moment, you bit back a remark, choosing to play your cards right and not argue with the woman now pointing a knife at you.

“No, I’m not going to kill you, we’re just gonna have a bit of fun together, alright?” The cold metal pressed against your neck, the sharp tip nearly causing you to leak blood. You whimpered the further she went, your skin barrier breaking as a red substance slowly dripped down your neck.

“Fuck, you don’t know how badly I’ve been wanting this, I’ve been just dying to see you dripping in blood all at the hands of my knife.” You didn’t move, didn’t speak, the fear of what she’d do to you if so indulging you.

“You know, I was planning to come home to my gorgeous little girl laying in bed, ready to take me whenever I want. But instead, I came home to a suitcase of my clothes ready for me, you were gonna kick me out, huh?” You slowly nodded, wetness pooling in your eyes and your shorts. You squeezed your eyes shut in shame, it was so wrong to be needy after such things, she was holding a deadly object to your body and you were still turned on, were you just as crazy as her?

“But seeing that look in your eyes I- fuck, I just wanted you so much more. I was going to tell you, but I- I didn’t know how you’d react, you know?” She was practically manic as she spewed jumbled-up words, her eyes wide and her laugh being as haunted as her soul.

“I mean, just watching Maria on the floor, begging for her life to be saved- it just made me want to shove this knife so deep inside of her and watch as her life slowly drained from her eyes until there was nothing left.” Your own eyes widened at her words, trying to scramble as far away from her as you could. There was no escape though, you were pressed against the wall and she was surrounding every part of you, including your mind.

“Don’t run from me, baby.” She started. “All of this- all of it would’ve been prevented if it wasn’t for you. God, you’re just such a fucking slut, whoring yourself out to practically everyone. Do I not do enough for you? I fucking killed for you and that’s not enough?” You knew this was all the manipulation tactics that she noticed seemed to work with you, and it was working. You were ready to spit out apology after apology, praying for forgiveness, just like all of her victims.

She quickly reached for her bag, and you wanted nothing less than to know what was in there. She grabbed a small book, opening it to show the multiple photos of bloodied victims fallen at her hands. She looked proud, excited, all to show you her work.

“Maybe these people would’ve still been alive if it wasn’t for you.” You tore your eyes away quickly, you couldn’t stand seeing such brutality. It wasn’t your fault, you weren’t the one who hurt them, you told yourself. But there was that nagging thought, what if she did kill them because of you? Sure, you flirted, you had old flings but they weren’t contacted since you started your long relationship with Nat.

“Maria didn’t deserve this, none of them did.” You sobbed out, flinching when you felt her hand on your cheek. It was a soothing matter, one meant to calm you, but it did everything but. Suddenly, the same hand connected harshly with the skin, causing it to instantly redden in pain.

“They wanted you, baby, you should’ve known that. You think I didn’t pick up on Maria’s glances at your ass or these, perfect breasts of yours?” She groped your body with desire, shuddering out a breath while doing so.

“Of course, you didn’t notice, you thought she was just being ‘nice’, so fucking stupid.”

“And Wanda? She had a husband, Nat, a family.” Instead of giving you the response you wanted, an explanation to it all, she just continued to tease your nipples with the pad of her thumb through the fabric.

“You know I’d never kill you, right?” It took you a moment before you could get out a hesitant nod, struggling to fully believe her. You always trusted her, but times changed, and so did she.

“I like hurting people, it excites me. But you, I could never do such a thing, I never want to see you in pain, pretty girl.” She murmurs, moving her free hand to her crotch where she rubbed herself thoroughly.

“I just- you ever get so angry, so sick of someone, you just wish you could, like, kill them? Sometimes when we get into those heated arguments, I just wonder how much you’d be willing to beg me not to hurt you.” You watched as she slowly slid the black suit over her head, revealing her black sweatpants. She lowered them to her knees, and let her boxers make way to your vision.

“I’d never act on it, but with others, you don’t need to care about how much they mean to you, because their life costs me nothing but annoyance. I’d kill every last soul on this planet just for you, all you’d have to do is ask.” She grasped your hand, leading it to her confined cock as you palmed her length. Your breathing was ragged, shaky as you refused to look her in the eyes. You knew if you stared too deep into that emerald glaze, there would be no stopping. You wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her if you saw the care hidden deep inside of her.

“If I let you touch me, will you stop?” The killings are what you meant, but there was a hidden meaning in the words.

“I can’t promise you I’ll be able to, love.” There was a small whimper escaping her lips as you dipped your hand inside her underwear, grasping her cock in your hands as you stroked with a back-and-forth motion.

“That’s it, don’t stop.” You couldn’t believe yourself, you were sick, insane. Was this normal? No, it couldn’t be. But it felt so good, there was no stopping it. You wanted to see her face contort into pleasure, you wanted to see what she’d do to you. Would she treat you the same as Maria? Would she kill you when you were done? Did she mean it when she sputtered those words? You didn’t want to die just yet, you used to think you did, but that was until you faced death with open arms. How could a criminal, a serial murderer, a psychopath look so perfect? She still looked the same, but there was blood covering her hands and her red hair was messy, her forehead covered in trails of sweat.

“I’m- God, you’re such a good little girl, so fucking perfect.” She noticed the way your thighs clenched, rubbing together as your hips jutted into the air.

“Does someone like when daddy compliments them? Tells them how good they’re doing?” You nodded quickly, your mouth aching to land on her crotch.

“Yeah? You like being a good girl? Or do you like being a good little slut for me?” Both. The answer was both. You wanted nothing more than to prove your worth to her, but you wanted her to treat you like you had none.

“I’m cumming, baby, I’m fucking cumming.” She clenched her jaw tightly and groaned deeply as continuous spurts of cum coated your face. She looked down, grasping your hair in her hands to create a ponytail before forcing herself into your mouth. She could feel the salty tears that had traveled down to your lips spreading amongst her dick, making her grin.

“Swallow daddy’s cum, little girl.” She whispered, dragging you up and down as you gagged around her. Some dribbled down your chin, but she didn’t mind, and neither did you. It had been so long since she felt the warmth that was your mouth, you had been refusing to have sex with her until earlier today. When she finally got her hands on you, it felt magical, like a long-awaiting finale to a show.

“Your throat is so fucking tight,” She said. “I know you must be so wet, you like it when I’m rough, don’t ya’?” She extracted her length from your mouth, causing you to let out a multiple of deep breaths. She tossed your loose shorts to the side after ripping them in half, her biceps flexing in the short moment it took to do so.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you, Y/N.” She rarely ever used your name, it was almost odd to hear such a thing. She got ahold of your thighs, pulling you forward and, if it wasn’t for her your hand massaging the part of your scalp she tugged, your head would’ve roughly slammed against the wooden floor.

Your thighs were then lifted to meet your stomach, her cock standing tall as she guided herself to prod at your hole. She rubbed up and down your folds, moaning lowly at the wetness coating you. She pressed herself teasingly against your clit, watching as your lips twitched upward.

“Nat- condom.”

“Oh, no, baby, I have a little something planned for tonight.” She eyed you with a soft smile as if it was the most obvious thing, you wished it didn’t turn you on as much as it did.

“You giving me that look isn’t going to help your case, it only makes me want to fuck you even more.” She stated when you gulped, giving her a nervous and feared look. This wasn’t your Nat, this was someone else, but you loved her just as much.

“F-fuck, you’re so warm and- tight!” She mumbled as her tip slowly opened you up. It was difficult to fit close to half of her inside of you, you didn’t know how you’d manage all of her. She held girth to her, and she was proud to point it out. She loved noticing how tiny you were compared to her, how her cock seemed to stretch you out more so than anything ever has before. No toy had come close; you became dependent on her length to fulfill your needs.

Your shirt soon joined your shorts as she tore it off you, roughly grasping your breast and squeezing as if it were a stress ball.

“Don’t do that. You’re a big girl, you can take it.” You whined pitifully, but her gaze was only filled with lust as her skin managed to press against yours. You had never once been able to take every last inch of her, but you were so wet, more than you’ve ever been. This side of her brought out something inside of you, something so shameful, you didn’t want to acknowledge it. But Nat did. She could sense how badly you had been wanting to spice things up for months, it was almost starting to turn out to be boring between you two, and she never expected you to act so compliant.

“Daddy, you’re so big.” She rested both arms at either side of your head, staring down at you with an intensity you longed for. You could see how badly she was trying to hold back from hurting you, but she wanted to so much. The thought of you covered in your blood only made her cock throb and pulse. She leaned down, letting her mouth ghost against yours, causing you to pull her forward to connect yourself with her. Her tongue poked at your lips, begging to get a taste of you. You didn’t let her, only pulling back with your eyes slowly trailing from her parted lips to her forest-green eyes.

“Fuck me, Nat.” She never liked her name all that much, she thought it was basic. But hearing it come from your mouth with your voice, it did things to her.

She pulled her hips back, her length sliding out of you, only to fuck itself back into you. Your tits jumped with your body as the thrust, her gaze couldn’t leave them.

She was in a deep state of arousal, even worse than you. And her knife was right there, it would’ve been so easy to repeat her actions onto her own body, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t care if she was a killer, you still loved her, you were as sick and gross as her. If anything, the thought fascinated you. You always enjoyed gore movies, and she was more than ecstatic when she found someone who shared her deep love for such acts, and you thought it was normal at first. That was until she asked you if you ever thought about doing the same things they did. You instantly said no, a little too quickly. Nat knew you were far from innocent, but she loved this part of you more than anything. You accepted her, even if she was insane.

“That feel good?” She asked, her voice coming out in stutters and cracked moans. You had released a loud whimper when she hit that spot deep inside of you, your nails clawing at her skin. She liked the pain, it sent a thrill through her body.

You felt a sharp poke against the skin of your thigh, looking down only to find her weapon covered in the blood of a previous fool, and now you were just the same.

“Nat-”

“Shh, just- shut up and take what I give you, alright?” She let the knife cut into you, leaving red liquid behind as it trailed down your body. It was warm, yet it still sent chills down your spine.

“You look so beautiful with my design, sweetheart.” She had carved an ‘N’, waiting and hoping for the end result where it’d scar your body forever. She didn’t know why she loved it so much, maybe if she hadn’t lied to the psychiatrists, she’d know.

“You think I should do the same thing…here?” Your skin lied a red trail that followed up until your neck, stopping short as she noticed your breathing patterns change.

“I could easily kill you, and no one would know.” She chuckled, bringing her face to rest on your shoulder, her nose against your neck as she inhaled your sweet scent. The knife pressed down a little harder, letting the skin break as a droplet fell.

“I know you won’t.” You whispered, goosebumps erupting over your skin. You were close, so close. You needed her, anything from her.

“Smart girl you are, hm?” Her hips were starting to lose rhythm the longer she went, it was growing more difficult to keep the same pace. The coil in her stomach had been begging to be let free, to finally relax as she came.

“You gonna cum, baby?” You nodded, moans consuming you making it impossible to speak. She finally leaned back, placing her palms on your stomach where a bulge appeared. She gasped, drawing in your attention as you hesitantly followed her vision. You bit your lip in hunger when noticing what caught your girlfriend’s attention, you had found her loving the way she could overpower you at any moment; taking you however she wanted because you couldn’t deny it. She adored being larger than you, it fueled that pride hidden inside of her.

“Oh, daddy must be stretching you out so, so much, huh? You’re just a cute little slut, so small compared to me.”

“Please-”

“Please, what?” She felt her peak rising further, she needed to release.

“Please cum inside me.” She was already planning to whether you wanted it or not, but seeing your dislike to the thought of children or pregnancy, she thought you’d never let her do so. She grinned, throwing her head back as she tried to muster out a response.

“I am, baby, I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you. Cum with me.” She felt your juices coating her length as your legs shook violently. Pumps of her release shot into you, a deep groan caving its way out of her.

“You’ll look so sexy carrying my babies.” She had the image planted deep in her mind, she wanted to make it a reality.

“Yes! Please- God, fuck!” She didn’t stop after your first orgasm, causing your sensitivity to grow until you couldn’t take such abuse anymore. The blood on your skin had dried, and red hand marks that would soon bruise made way to your vision.

“You’re okay, just relax.” You couldn’t believe it, the murderer you had spent nights praising for their impressive kill count and multiple days fearing was your girlfriend, and you didn’t even hate her for it.

“I told you, I’ll kill anyone for you. I want us to get away from the city, find someplace to lie low for a little bit, at least until they cross me out as a suspect. We can be happy, we can have everything you’ve always wanted, together.” She kissed the back of your hand, letting them leave a pattern up your arm until she reached your face, leaving a long and passionate kiss on your lips.

You weren’t ready for this, you didn’t even have money. And there were so many things that could go wrong, but wasn’t it worse in a place like this? There, you’d have a knowing of where Nat would be, she wouldn’t have to hurt anyone anymore. But would she ever really stop? Or was she just saying that to ease your worries? You didn’t know, but you also didn’t care. You’d always have Nat, in any way possible.

“Okay.”

[pretzel-box]

STREAMER AU Masterlist here!

Tags: Jealousy, Conflicted Feelings, Comedy, Streamer AU Sequel

Words: 2,7k

The moment you found out that Sebastian was Solace, your entire worldview shifted like a puzzle clicking into place, though it left you reeling. Everything you thought you knew about him, the casual moments you shared as roommates, suddenly felt charged with new meaning. Every little detail you had overlooked seemed so obvious now—the way he tied his hair up in a messy knot when he was deep in thought, the glint of his piercings that added a quiet charm to his already magnetic presence, the familiar cadence of his voice that you’d heard a thousand times through Discord, though now it was stripped of its digital distortion.

How had you not seen it sooner? The similarities were all there: the late nights when you'd hear him pacing in the apartment or softly talking to his stream, the offhand comments he’d make that seemed too close to things Solace had mentioned during his own streams. And yet, in your mind, the connection had never formed.

It all became too clear three days ago when you received a photo. A candid picture of Solace that had been posted in your chat with him—his face visible for just a moment before being taken down. But that moment was all you needed. The piercings. The smirk. The eyes.

Sebastian.

You’d sat there in shock, staring at your screen. The realization hit you like a freight train, leaving your heart racing. Solace, the streamer you had a massive crush on, was Sebastian, your moody, sarcastic, infuriatingly handsome roommate. The same Sebastian who would steal your leftovers without remorse, who’d roll his eyes whenever you tried to make small talk, and who somehow always smelled faintly of coffee and cedar.

In retrospect, it was ridiculous how oblivious you'd been. The matching usernames—Solace and Sebastian. The voice that sent shivers down your spine both online and in person. All the late nights where you'd stay up chatting with Solace, completely unaware that the guy sitting at his desk in the next room over was the same person who had you wrapped around his finger digitally.

Now that you knew, it was impossible not to notice every little thing about him. His presence in your life felt magnified. Each time he walked by, even if it was just to grab something from the fridge or mumble a tired "morning," you found yourself hyper-aware of him.

Like right now.

Sebastian wandered into the kitchen, his hair still tousled from sleep. He was wearing one of his oversized band tees and gray sweatpants, a stark contrast to the composed, charismatic image of Solace in your mind. Yet, seeing him like this, in the morning light with soft shadows playing across his face, made him somehow even more attractive.

You had been lost in thought, mindlessly preparing your breakfast—some cereal that you barely even registered as you poured it into a bowl. Your thoughts drifted back to that photo of Solace, and how stupidly good he looked. You’d caught yourself daydreaming about how different things might have been if you’d known sooner.

Suddenly, the bowl was yanked out of your hands.

"Thanks," Sebastian muttered, already digging into the cereal as he sat down at the kitchen table, completely unaware of the turmoil raging in your head.

You blinked, staring at him in disbelief as he scrolled through his phone, completely unfazed by the fact he’d just stolen your breakfast. For a brief moment, all your earlier suspicions were wiped away. There was no way the same man who could make you swoon with a few words online was now sitting in front of you, slurping your cereal with absolutely no remorse.

“Sebastian…” you started, but your voice trailed off. What could you even say?

He looked up at you through his lashes, his face a mix of mild curiosity and impatience, as if he was waiting for you to stop staring and say whatever was on your mind. That same frown that would normally irritate you now sent your heart racing.

It was almost laughable. Here was the man who, online, could make you blush with his teasing and smooth banter. Yet in real life, he couldn’t care less about basic roommate etiquette.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch me eat, or...?" Sebastian's words were muffled by a mouthful of cereal, his brow quirking up in amusement as he caught you staring.

"Right. Sorry," you mumbled, quickly turning away to grab another bowl from the cupboard, your mind still spinning.

As you poured yourself another serving of cereal, you couldn’t help but feel flustered. There was no denying it now. Sebastian was Solace. The same Solace who could turn your insides into jelly with a well-placed compliment was now stealing your breakfast and probably didn’t even remember half the things he'd said to you online.

You glanced over at him again. He was back to scrolling through his phone, one hand lazily stirring the cereal around in the bowl. How was it possible that the same guy who could look so effortlessly cool online could be this laid-back and…normal?

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Solace and Sebastian weren’t two different people. They were one and the same, even if you were only now starting to realize it.

It was almost overwhelming, the realization that the guy you’d been crushing on for so long was already living under the same roof as you. And now that you knew the truth, it was going to be impossible to see him the same way.

As you sat down across from him, trying not to let your thoughts spiral too much, Sebastian glanced up from his phone. His dark eyes met yours for just a moment before he looked away, but in that brief exchange, you felt your heart skip a beat.

Yeah, no. There was no way that Sebastian was actually Solace. At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

But the truth was, you couldn’t deny it anymore. And now, the only question left was: what were you going to do about it?

"Can't do grocery shopping later. Have a date," Sebastian’s voice cut through the air, yanking you from the little daydream you were having. You turned your head, trying to process what he had just said. He didn’t even bother looking up from his phone, casually shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on your morning.

His tone was flat, dull, as if he were talking about something as mundane as doing the laundry. A date. The word echoed in your head, and for a moment, you couldn’t figure out if you should be surprised, upset, or... jealous. But you swallowed those feelings down, choosing to remain silent. After all, it wasn’t your place to comment. He was just your roommate, right? Nothing more.

Still, the thought of Sebastian with someone else gnawed at you. You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that you were overthinking it, but that jealousy simmered beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was lost in his own storm of thoughts, staring at his phone screen like it held all the answers he was looking for. His thumb mindlessly scrolled through his messages, and for what felt like the hundredth time, he checked the two conversations haunting him the most. One, the time and details for his upcoming date, a date he wasn’t even sure he wanted to go on. And two, his last chat with Jelly.

He had felt something special with Jelly. Their conversations were so natural, so easy, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. But recently, things had gone south. The last thing he had sent was a recent selfie, after Jelly had seemed genuinely curious to see what he looked like. It had taken him forever to work up the courage to hit send, his heart racing when he finally did. He wasn’t someone who was self-conscious about his looks, but somehow, with Jelly, it felt different. Vulnerable.

But after he sent it... silence. Jelly had gone offline. No reply. No reaction.

The anxiety twisted inside him, eating away at his usual cool demeanor. Was he not what they expected? Did he come off too arrogant, too detached? Were they disappointed in what they saw? The thoughts spiraled in his head, and before he knew it, the cereal in front of him had turned into a soggy, unappetizing mess. With a frustrated huff, he shoved the bowl away, the sudden movement making you flinch slightly.

He sighed, standing up and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, his movements tense, his mind still running in circles. The truth was, Sebastian didn’t even care much for dating. Not really. But after Jelly went radio silent, this stupid date was the only thing that gave him a flicker of hope. Maybe this person could replace Jelly. Maybe they were Jelly.

But even as he thought it, a pit of doubt formed in his stomach. It wasn’t going to be the same, was it?

You watched him from the corner of your eye as he pulled his jacket on, his movements heavy, like the weight of his thoughts was dragging him down. You wanted to say something, ask him what was wrong, but your throat felt tight, and the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you watched as he grabbed his keys, threw a half-hearted "Later" in your direction, and walked out the door.

The moment he was gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The knot of jealousy tightened in your chest. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of him going on a date left you feeling... uneasy.

And the worst part? You had no idea why it bothered you so much.

As you stood there in the silence of the kitchen, your mind drifted back to your recent discovery—Sebastian was Solace. It was still hard to wrap your head around. The guy you had been crushing on for months online, the same guy who made your heart race with his witty banter and charming smile on streams, was the same guy who just walked out of your apartment for a date with someone else.

The lines between your feelings were blurring, and it left you confused, torn between jealousy and your secret.

You ran to the door in a full-on panic, tripping over your own feet and crashing into the corner of the couch. Wincing from the sharp sting, you yanked the door open with far more force than necessary. “SEBASTIAN!” Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind racing in circles, and you couldn’t let him walk out that door—not for a date. Not when you were drowning in this mess of feelings for him, tangled between love and chaos.

By some miracle, you caught him just in time. He was standing beside his sleek black motorcycle, about to swing his leg over and ride off. The sound of your shout made him pause, his hand resting on the handlebars. He turned his head, those stunning eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of confusion and impatience.

Crap. You hadn’t thought this through. Now what?

Your brain scrambled for an excuse—anything to keep him from leaving. “You... uh... left your cereal in the kitchen!” you blurted out, cringing immediately after. Out of all the possible things you could’ve said, that was probably the lamest reason to stop someone from going on a date.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Just throw it away,” he huffed, looking even more annoyed now. His grip tightened on the handlebars, and he looked ready to leave again, already half-turning back to his bike.

"WAIT!" you yelled again, your voice edging on desperation. He stopped, but this time he rolled his eyes, clearly losing patience. "What now?"

Your mind went blank. You floundered, grasping for any reason, any excuse to keep him standing there just a little longer. “You... uh... you haven’t done the laundry yet!”

Both of you stood there for a beat, staring at each other in disbelief. Really? Laundry?

Sebastian let out a long, tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It's your turn to do the laundry,” he said, his voice flat and his gaze piercing, as if daring you to come up with something better.

Well, damn. He had a point.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, thoroughly embarrassed by the sheer absurdity of the situation. But you weren’t about to give up. Not now. Not when he was seconds away from riding off to a date with someone else. Your mind raced faster, searching for something—anything—that would keep him here just a little longer.

Before you could even process it, the words slipped out. "I—wait, I need you to help me with something!"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow again, still clearly unconvinced. "Help you with what?" His tone was sharp, but there was a flicker of curiosity.

Your pulse quickened. You were out of excuses. But instead of backing down, you took a step toward him, your eyes meeting his with a sudden burst of determination. “I... I need you to stay. ”

The words hung in the air between you two, heavy with unspoken meaning. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for his reaction, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’d understand what you were really trying to say. “God, how annoying can you be?” He groans. And then it hits you, you can't make him stay. But Jelly can.

You only needed a single moment, just enough privacy to pull off what you had in mind. As Sebastian was still standing by his bike, you blurted out the first plausible excuse that came to mind. “I can’t reach the upper shelf in the kitchen. Just get me the blue box from up there, and you’re good to go!”

He gave you an incredulous look, clearly not amused. "Seriously?" he grumbled, but after a moment’s hesitation, he sighed and headed back into the house. Exactly what you needed.

The second he was out of sight, you pulled out your phone, your fingers shaking as you opened up Discord. You quickly typed a reply to the message Sebastian—well, Solace—had sent you earlier.

“You actually look so cute that it gave me a stroke lol /hj”

Your heart raced as you hit send, hoping the humor would come across, but knowing full well it was dripping with the truth of how that selfie had really made you feel. You tucked your phone away. You could see Sebastian from the window. His expression was still distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. As he turned back toward the glass, you noticed his phone probably vibrating in his jacket pocket since he pulled it out. He paused for a second, clearly torn about something.

You held your breath, watching as his fingers fumbled for the phone, hoping, praying, that your message would be enough to make him stay.

Sebastian unlocked his screen, his face bathed in the soft glow from the device. You saw the moment it happened—when he read your message. His eyes flickered with surprise, followed by a slow smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He stared at the screen for a beat longer, and you could practically feel the shift in his demeanor. Whatever doubts he had about the date, whatever had been weighing on him—it all seemed to melt away in that moment.

Sebastian slipped the phone back into his pocket after typing a reply and instead of heading for the door, he leaned casually against the counter, arms folded. He gave you a sideways glance, his expression soft but laced with a smirk that told you everything had just changed.

“Don't tell me you're falling for me, Jelly.”

The message on your own phone screen were simple, you couldn't really write much while Sebastian was near you but you managed to secretly text him back.

“Maybe I already did, Solace.”

[idunnoanymore7]

Freezer

Description: If you get locked in the walk-in freezer with your hot boss, you need to warm up somehow.

Content: carmy x reader (no use of y/n), injury(cut finger) and mention of blood, sort of enemies to lovers, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, use of pet names

Author’s Note: I need him IN MY BONES. i wrote this before watching the ep when this happens LOL. also i love feedback if you want to leave it! <3

——————————————————

It started as a normal day of work-as in Carmy was yelling, Richie was an asshole, and Sydney was solving everything.

It ended up being an intense day for an unofficial kitchen assistant. There was a large rush of customers at lunch, leaving Carmy’s veins to protrude as he yelled at everyone to make more food. 

“50 more beef, 20 veggie, 16 everything chefs!”

“Heard, chef!” The kitchen chorused back. 

He called your name.

“Yes, chef?” 

“I need the two slabs of beef left in the fridge, and then you need to go drive and get more.”

“Heard, chef,” you say, writing the instructions down quickly on your notepad.

Carmy was already gone, at his station picking up the pound of beef. You stared as his bicep curved out, his hand flexed and gripped the bag. You were interrupted by-

“Chef! I need those tomatoes!” Sydney said. “They have to be in the pot in 5!”

Fuck-the tomatoes you were chopping for Sydney’s sauce before this meeting started. 

“Yes chef!” 

“And we’re talking about whatever that was later!” she said. You tense as you realize she saw you gawking.

“Syyyyd!” You whine. She grins.

“Get to work!” Carmy hollers from around a corner, and you dash back to the sink.

You had finished half of the ten tomatoes sydney requested. You picked up the knife and got to work on the 6th of the bunch.

You were mindlessly chopping for maybe a minute before someone slammed into your back, knocking you forward and causing you to slice your finger.

“Fuck!” you gasped. You whirled around to see who it was. “Say behind!”

Of course. Richie. He looked down at you  and his lip curled. 

“Not my fault! Pay more attention next time.”

He stalked off, rolling his eyes. 

Whatever, you didn’t have time for this. Luckily no blood got on the tomatoes, so you wrapped the cut in paper towel and got back to work careful to keep that finger away from the food. You slid the cut up food into a bowl and carried it to Sydney, placing it next to her.

“Thanks, chef,” she said, checking the tomatoes.

“Of course, chef.”

“Whoa, you good?” she said, noticing your finger. 

“Yeah, I’ll fix it after I finish,” you said.

“Okay..” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Be careful.”

“I will, chef!” You say, already heading to the freezer. “Corner!”

You reached the freezer and pulled open the door to slip inside, looking for the beef Carmy had asked for.

“Ah!” You jumped, shoulder blade hitting the metal shelf. Carmy startled from the racks he was leaning on. 

“What the fuck?” He leaned on the door to steady himself; pushing it closed. 

“Fuck-sorry chef,” You said quickly. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

“Clearly,” he groaned, tipping his head back against the shelf. You could feel the shame burning up your chest and sternum. 

“Just get your stuff and go, okay?” 

You nodded and leaned over, right hand on the metal coils as you looked for the beef on the bottom shelf.

“It’s right there,” he said angrily, gesturing to the slab. Great day so far. You cut yourself and now your workplace crush was yelling at you. Like you could focus when he was right there. You could feel his body heat.

You gripped the plastic and lifted the meat into the crook of your left arm. Hefting it up, you turned and reached for the door handle, avoiding eye contact with Carmy. 

You pulled the handle. Nothing happened. What?

You tried again. Still nothing more than a slight jiggle, and the door didn’t budge. 

“What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“Let me try,” he said, moving into your space. His wide shoulders brushed against you, reminding you of all that manliness and what you wanted it to do to you.

You stepped back, the weight of the beef (and your attraction to Carmy) already starting to burn. You switched arms as he yanked hard on the handle, bicep and shoulder muscles flexing. He added his other hand and pulled down and back. Nothing.

This could not be happening. You can’t be stuck in here with Carmy. He’ll eat you alive, and not in the way you wanted. You couldn’t stand the thought of the cause of that twist in your gut hating you.

“Fuck!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the door. “Richie! Syd!”

You both knew the door was metal, several inches thick. They’d have to be close to hear him. 

You gasped and set the beef back so you could curl your arms around yourself. Carmy whirled around.

“You fucking locked us in here!” he said, pointing at you.

“Me?!” You yelled back. “It’s not my fault the door jammed!”

“Yes it is!” he fired back. “This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t come in here!”

“I was getting the fucking beef you asked me for!” You screamed back.

He was about to respond when you heard muffled voices outside. 

“Syd!” You called out.

“Cousin!” He yelled at the same time.

“What’re you guys doing in there?” you hear Sydney say through the door. 

“The fucking door won’t open!” Carmy exclaimed. “Get us out!”

The handle shook, then shook more violently.

“I think it’s jammed!” came Richie’s yell.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you mumble.

Carmy looks at you out of the corner of his eye before turning back. “So can you fix it?”

“Um, not sure,” came his cousin’s reply. “I think we need to get Fak…”

“Fuck!” Carmy exclaimed louder, pushing his tattooed hands through his hair. “It’s lunch rush! I cant be stuck in here!”

“I’d also like to be outside!” You add.

“It’s okay chef,” Sydney’s voice responds. “I’ll keep us on task while Richie works to get you out. We won’t fall behind.”

“I got this, cousin!” Richie says.

Carmy sighs and leans his head against the freezer door, resting his hands on it.

“Good, chef. You’ll have a limited menu since our meat is in here.”

“On it Chef. We were due for a shipment anyway.”

“Thank you chef. An-“

Sydney cuts him off saying your name. “Just breathe, okay? We’ll get you out as soon as possible.”

“Thank you Syd,” you reply, feeling grateful for her ability to take charge.

“Oh! And I’ll slip a bandage under the door!”

“Ahhh thank you,” You respond with relief, looking down at the paper towel that was almost completely red.

That caught Carmy’s attention. His head whipped around to look at you as her footsteps pattered away.

“You good?”

You looked at him in surprise. “Yeah…just cut my finger.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You have to be careful. We can’t be losing manpower.”

You glared. “Richie slammed into me. My carefulness didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Here you go,” Syd said as she slid the bandaid under the door. “Fak will be here in an hour or so.”

“What?” you exclaim at the same time.

“Apparently he likes to go to a specific movie theater an hour away. I don’t fucking know.” 

You groan along with Carmy.

You slid down to sit on the cement floor and set about trying to open the bandage, but hissed when it slid across your cut. 

Carmy sighed. “Let me help you with that.”

“I got it, thanks. Isn’t it because I wasn’t careful enough, anyway?” You say.

“You can’t blame me for trying to keep the restaurant running.”

“Thanks for the sympathy.”

“Just let me do it.”

Carmy lowered himself to the floor, leaning back on his haunches. The image of this larger-than-life man on his knees for you made you slow, handing over the bandage.

He took it and began to unwrap. 

“I know you’re careful,” he says into his hands.

“Huh?” you ask in surprise.

He looks up at you, those beautiful blue eyes upping your heart rate. “I know you’re careful. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Oh fuck. New reason why you couldn’t stay in here. You were gonna fall in love with him.

The praise makes you smile, and his face seems to lighten at that. “Thanks,” you say. “I assume it helps my case that Richie has a reputation for being not careful.”

He huffs a smile. “Maybe a bit.” He reaches his hand out gently. Seeing the veins and tattoos on the backs of his hands were not helping your heartbeat. Your nerves shake as he takes your hand and undoes the paper towel with the other. 

His face hardens and you look to see why. The gash was deeper than you realized, but nothing new to kitchen staff.

“Fuckin’ Richie,” Carmy grumbles angrily.

“It’s fine,” you say reassuringly. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

He makes eye contact again. “You shouldn’t have to. Not in my kitchen.”

Your lips part in surprise, and you think you catch him looking at them a beat too long before returning to your hand. The fact that such talented, skilled hands were working on your little cut was wild to you. 

A curl fell in his face, and you had to resist the urge to push it back for him. He was finishing up the bandage, and your mind screamed keep him over here.

“How are we gonna keep from freezing to death in here?” You ask, half joking. 

He moves back to lean against the shelves on the opposite wall, legs crossed at the ankle. You immediately feel the absence of his hands on you. 

He shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

“All that means is you won’t notice when the hypothermia kicks in.” 

His eyebrows furrow. “That cannot be true.”

“Yeah, I have no idea.” You respond, stretching your legs out so they’re parallel to his.

He chuckles, louder than you thought he would. 

“How is the job so far?” He asks.

“Good,” you say. “Better than a lot of kitchens. Except when I have to sit in a freezer with my boss.” You nudge his knee with yours. 

“C’mon, is he really that bad?” Carmy teases.

You think for a minute. “No, honestly. He’s pretty fantastic at everything he does. In appearance, too. I don’t know how he keeps those white shirts so clean.”

“I meant to be in a freezer with,” Carmy responds. There’s a shameful beat.

“I-“

“I’m just messing with you,” He smirks.

You roll your eyes, still embarrassed for your lovey rant.

“I look fantastic, huh?” 

You squirm. “I didn’t mean it like that-“

“How did you mean it then? Don’t hurt my feelings.”

“Can they be hurt?” You ponder. “I’m sure many women have told you similarly.”

He shakes his head. “That’s probably the only personal compliment I’ve gotten in years. They’ve all been about my cooking.” His face is a bit pink now.

You rub your arms, the goosebumps a combination of the freezer and Carmy’s gaze on you. Speaking of, his eyes follow the movement of your arms and his jaw ticks.

“That’s almost unbelievable to me,” You begin. “That no one tells you you look good.”

“Do people tell you that?” He asks.

“Sometimes, I suppose,” You say. “When I look nicer than this.” You gesture down at yourself.

“You still look nice,” He says gravelly, crossing his arms over his chest. You have to tear your eyes away from his forearms to respond. 

“Thanks, so do you,” You say lightly, hoping it’s not obvious how much you mean it.

You can tell from his eyes he sees through you, though. 

“I know you think so,” He says lowly.

“Oh yeah?” You ask nervously.

“Yeah,” he almost groans. “The way you look at me when I cook-it’s so distracting.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper. 

“Yes you do,” he says, eyes hard. “But you’re so focused, and careful, that you never see when I’m looking the same way at you.”

You swallow hard. There was no way this was real. Carmy being into you? Impossible.

“Yeah, right,” You respond.

His jaw ticks. “What, you don’t think that’s true?”

“Carmy, look at you. Then look at me. Of course I don’t think that’s true.” You shake.

He pushes his hands through his curls again. His shirt rises up an inch when he does, and you can’t help but glance at the bit of happy trail-

“See,” He groans. “I cant think straight around you. Especially when you look at me like that. Like I’m worth your attention.”

“Of course you are, Chef,” you say, looking into his eyes as your voice went lower. 

The name seemed to do him in. His frazzled look shifted to feral, eyes bright and hair in every direction. 

“You never answered my question,” You said lowly.

“What question?”

“How are we gonna stay warm in here?” You say, tone suggesting there was more to what you were saying. “Because I can think of a few ideas…”

“Oh, so can I,” He said gravelly, dragging his eyes down your body as you rose up on your knees. “All of them require you getting over here.” he said.

Didn’t have to tell you twice. He uncrossed his legs, his perfect thighs framing a seat for you. Before you could sit, his large hands crept onto your back, grasping you as he put his face onto your belly.

“Is this okay?” He asked, tone serious.

“Yes, yes,” you almost whine, hands reaching the back of his head. 

When you run your fingers through your hair like you’d been dreaming about, he groans.

This giant, muscled man groans into your stomach. You feel like jelly. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”

You had heard about his nonexistent dating history. But you didn’t care. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” You say, looking down at him.

“No,” he groans, looking up at you, the angle of his eyes and his hands gripping you making you even wetter. “I want.”

You gasp and that reaction seems to spur him on. He slides his hands down your thighs and pulls you into his lap.

You groan quietly as you feel his cock through his pants, already hardening just from you being close. You couldn’t believe it. 

“You feel that? What you do to me?” He asks, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You think it’s true now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you gasp. “Wanna feel what you do to me?”

He groans in your ear. “Oh, we’ll get there.”

Then, he kisses you. And not a polite one. He kisses you like you’re a new recipe he made: new and delicious and ready to be devoured whole.

You moan and his grip on your shirt tightens like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. You tug on his hair and your hips involuntarily buck against him. 

He pulls back and moves his mouth to your neck. “Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“I could-“ His teeth scrape your neck. “I could say the same thing about you.”

His hands grasp your face and kiss you again, holding you and taking you. 

You reach your hands for the hem of his shirt, needing something to ground you with the heat running through your body. As soon as you reach your hands underneath his shirt and scrape your nails up, he seems to go haywire.

His hands grip anywhere they can reach, your back, your hips, your shoulders, your hair. Not quite where you want him.

You pull back and he looks worried. But that look dissipates when you reach for the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.

“Oh…pretty girl…” he mumbles, hands sliding up from your hips and across your stomach. 

You smile and reach your arms to the back of your bra.

“You want this off too?” You ask.

“Yes, oh god, please-“

Your thighs try to squeeze together from his desperation, but his hips are in the way and he notices. 

“You like that baby? You like when I beg?” 

You whimper. Oh god. And he heard it.

“I can do that, pretty girl, I can beg,” He says, his blue eyes in yours.

“Fuck, Carmy-“ You groan.

His hands move up, sliding seductively up your skin. “Can I take it off baby? Want it to be me that gets to undress you.”

“Yeah, you can,” You nod, unable to form sentences. He was gonna kill you.

He undoes the clasp on the first try, and his eyes get wider as the bra falls away. Your nipples turn into points from the cold freezer.

“Ohhh pretty girl, look at these,” he says in fascination, running his thumbs over your peaks.

The rough skin against you makes you moan, head falling back as he grasps your tits in his hands.

“So, so pretty,” he says, and then he scrapes his teeth against them. You gasp, as he continues to suck and bite at your breasts. “Wanna hold ‘em every day-“

“Fuck-so glad you like them Carmy,” you groan. “Please, please can you take this off?”

You grasp at his shirt. “Of course, baby,” he says, hair even crazier than normal from your tugging. He helps you lift it up and over his head.

“Oh, god,” you say, eyes widening as you finally see him in his full glory. Seeing his defined biceps next to his pecs and happy trail might knock you out cold. “Oh Carmy you are fantastic.”

That makes him laugh, and you grab his neck to kiss him again, and he moans into your mouth. Your other hand runs down his chest, dragging along the waistband. His hands grasped your boobs, and it felt better than you thought it would.

His desperation and muscle was making you soaked. You needed him to touch you. 

“Carm-“ You squirm in his lap, looking for friction. 

“I know, baby, I got you,” he says. “C’mere.” 

He holds you into him with one arm, and you bite at his shoulder as he looks for the shirts on the hard ground, making a makeshift pillow for you. 

He lays you back, and you watch him as he slowly kisses and nicks his way down your body, getting more teethy and possessive as he gets lower.

He reaches the waistband of your pants, and looks up at you for assurance. You look at the door nervously, and he catches it.

“I’m not gonna let anyone see you,” He says. “This is for me,” he grabs your ass. “Understand?”

You nod desperately and wiggle your hips.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“Heard, chef,” you tease, and he tsks at you, smirking.

He pulls your pants down and over your ankles, adjusting himself to breathe over your thighs.

You inhale sharply as the cold hits your legs, goosebumps forming. Carmy’s hands soothe you, running up your thighs slowly.

He rubs his thumb over the wet spot on your underwear and looks up at you. “All this for me?”

“Told you you’d feel what you do to me.” you say.

“Ugh, pretty girl, you’re gonna kill me.” he groans into your thigh, biting down and you whimper. 

“Please, Carm, don’t tease-“

He pulls your underwear down in one swift motion, looking at you for reassurance before pulling your thighs over his shoulders and diving into his meal.

You can’t help your load moan as he licks a stripe all the way up your folds, circling your clit when he gets there. 

Your hands twist into his hair but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, his hands clamp harder into your thighs as your taste spurs him on.

“Fuck,” His nose- that perfect nose- rubs your clit over and over and you almost squeal just from the visual: his tattooed hands on your thighs, his curls in your fingers, his blue eyes looking straight into yours.

He pushes his tongue into you and your hips buck as you moan when he curls it up. The absence of it inside you makes you whimper, until his middle finger enters you and you really do squeal.

“Carmy- ah-“

“Yeah, baby, lemme hear you.”

He curls his finger and hits that spongey spot inside you, making your hips buck again. His eyes look scoldingly at you before he removes his right hand and presses down on your lower stomach. 

“Shit-!” Your head lolls back. “That’s a nice trick, Chef-“ You can feel him smirk.

The pressure makes the finger pumping inside you pleasing in a whole new way. Still sucking on your clit, Carmy curls another finger inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-“

“I got you, c’mon, come for me, wanna see you come all over my fingers,” Carmy says desperately, and you listen, snapping loose and releasing all over him. 

Your boss made you cum. Hard. Did you need to call HR? 

Nope. All you needed was to see him rising back over you, kissing up your stomach and over your breasts. 

His mouth was covered in your wet, and you grabbed his jaw hard to kiss him, your tongue in his mouth to taste yourself on him.

“Fantastic?” He asks.

“Fantastic.” you respond, meaning it. “Let’s hope Fak gets stuck in traffic,” you whisper into his lips. 

“Why?” he responds, teasing. You slide your hand down his chest and over his ass.

“Because I want you inside me,” you say. He moans and kisses you again, hard, whilst reaching for the fly on his jeans. 

“I was thinking the same thing,” he smiles into your lips. “Hands, chef, hands.”

You giggle and go to help him pull his pants down his legs and over his feet, kissing his jaw. You run your fingers over the happy trail you had been ogling, and grasp his cock over his boxers. He grunts in your ear, and takes your hand away. 

“Gonna come too fast,” he says, holding your hand above your head and kissing you.  “You make me crazy.”

“Same here, Carm.” You say, nipping at his neck. Your other hand teases at the waistline of his boxers.

He looks into your eyes. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes, Carmy, fuck, please.”

“Good.” He says, tugging his boxers down and you finally get to see him in all his glory. God, you didn’t think he could get more beautiful. Seeing him entirely naked sent another wave of wetness between your thighs.

“You’re so pretty, Carmy,” you mumble. He slid his hands up the outside of your thighs, keeping his eyes locked on yours. 

“All for you, baby,” his hand goes to his cock, and as the head slides inside you your head lolls back and groan.

“Hey, look at me.” You look back up to stare into his icy eyes. “Don’t stop.” He says.

He slides further into you and your jaw hangs open, trying so hard to keep eye contact with him.

You both groan as he bottoms out, every vein and ridge of him inside of you. Your pussy is still sensitive from the previous mind-blowing orgasm, and-

“God, pretty girl, you feel so good,” he groans in your ear. “Taking me so well.”

You pulse at the praise, and he feels it. You feel his smirk on your jaw. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, your nails find purchase on his back.

He rolls into you, and it has your thighs squeezing around his hips immediately. 

“Shit, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, Carmy, feels so good,” you moan as he starts his rhythm, every ridge of his cock dragging inside your walls. The cold of the freezer vanishing against the hotness of your bodies.

His forearm is on the floor next your head, his other hand grasping your ass as he pummels into you. 

Your back scrapes on the floor, to match the marks you’re making on Carmy’s back. 

“Look so good with me inside you,” he grunts and you choke. His hand on your ass moves between your thighs and he circles your clit.

“Fuck- too much,” you gasp, clit sensitive. 

“You can take it.”

“Ah- Car- I’m gonna-“

“Me too, pretty girl, cmon-“ The nickname gets you every time, and you gush over him, squeezing around his cock.

He makes a choked sound and falls over the ledge after you, collapsing on top of your chest. 

You both breathe heavily, you rubbing up and down his back.

“That might have been more fantastic than your cooking,” You smile to the ceiling. He chuckles into your neck.

“Heard, chef.”

You were both dressed by the time Fak finally arrived, half an hour late complaining about unmissable after-credit scenes. 

Parting, you had gained a cell phone number and an address from Carmy, a kiss goodbye, and a “see you later” that promised many more. 

[k9iriz]

𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐦𝐞

18+, [ ♫ 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤 - 𝘬𝘦𝘩𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘪 ]

𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳/𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘦

𝘴𝘺𝘱𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘹𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 & 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, (𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 “𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺” 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹!/𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘶𝘱-𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘴𝘦𝘹)

i entered the house silently as i threw my pink-designed purse on the counter, my pink steve madden heels clicked on the marble floors as i heard a bag being thrown on the floor, a pissed sigh and a rough opened fridge door in the distance as i walked upstairs, slamming the door shut, locking it.

“what happened?” you ask.

travis was mindlessly talking to a woman—who was clearly flirting with him, attracted to him.

noting he was already neglecting me, in my mind, he was more busier than usual, on the road 24-7 even on his free days.

it raised so many eyebrows, the mindless kind and sweet gestures stopped, the phone calls got shorter, not even a full “i love you” would come out, or his responses would be dry and simple.

behind that anger was me, the love of his life,his wife who just wanted some affection, some tlc.

but hey, who’s marriages are perfect?

i showered alone, soonly lathering myself with lotion as i heard the doorbell jangle, soonly it got rough, like he was gonna break the knob off the door.

“y/n, quit fuckin’ playing and open the door.” travis blasted from behind the door, making me jump, rolling my eyes as i traveled back into the bathroom, combing my hair down.

“get away from the door, i don’t got shit to say to you.” i smartly responded, before he began picking the lock, randomly.

i sat in a white beater, my nipples grew harder as i stared at him, rolling my eyes.

“why do all of that if you was gonna pick the lock, stupid?”

travis chuckled as he walked towards me, picking me up as he sat me on the counter, standing between my legs.

i froze.

“you been bitchy with me all fuckin’ day. what’s the issue?” travis spoke simply, not breaking eye contact with my eyes at all.

i felt something tingle at the bass in his voice, the firmness and seriousness.

“you should know why. flirting with bitches in my face. then on top of that, you got the nerve to come in like nothing hadn’t happened. mistreating me, like i don’t got feelings.” i completely sassed back, folding my arms, my eyes still gazed on him.

the tension intensified, apparently just leaving it silent.

“that’s what you’re mad about baby?” travis spoke again as if it was ironic i was pissed about the obvious.

“no fuckin’ shit.” i barked back as travis gripped my neck, pulling me more towards him, our chests touching.

“oooo, you’re so sassy aren’t you? calm down.” travis annouced, making my eyes advert away from him.

“look at me y/n. just listen.” he spoke out as i huffed, rolling my eyes.

“no, let me go. go flirt with whoever the fuck—she was?” i smartly shoved his hand off my neck, jumping down from the counter as i bent over, looking in the sink cabinet.

“maybe i should do the same thing, go out and ask a dude questions who’s actually in love with me—or maybe flirt with him in your fucking face.” i ranted along as travis eyed me after the last statement.

“stop it y/n.” travis warned under his breath.

“or maybe kiss him, but nooo, I made vows to stay loyal to you, you! then neglect you in the process and not give a fuck about whatever is waiting for me at home, hm?” i ranted, pushing at his chest as i slapped it, soonly the anger turned into tears.

travis took it in, and realized what ive said…knowing he was wrong, but your attitude was just clogging his head in order to comfort you.

“im sorry baby, and you know it. listen to me, quit cryin’.” travis sighed as he pulled me into his chest, just sniffling into it.

“imma make it up to you. i won’t do it again, i promise. just let me.” travis smoothly talked to me as i nodded, easily forgiving him once again- before pulled away quickly.

“ugh, why did i just forgive you that fast?” y/n shook her head, mouthing to herself, wiping her tears as she leant over, travis coming from behind pushing me all the way down.

“trav, let me up!” i whined loudly as i instantly got quiet, the slap on my ass was enough to quiet me within one.

“y’aint gonna be satisfied until i put that ass in place, hm?” travis gritted as he ran his hands all up and down my ass, gripping it, caressing it all in one.

i bit my lip to silence my moans, or any sexual that could possibly come out.

“lift up, and spread em, baby.” travis mumbled as i obeyed, practically falling more in love with my husband, and he hadn’t even did shit yet.

travis slowly began stripping himself as i slightly grabbed onto the counter, feeling himself slightly fill me up & stretch me in the process as he shoved my hand off the edge.

“don’t hold onto nothin, i got you.” travis grunted as his strokes started off mildly slow—my light moans leaving my mouth.

“oh baby…” i hissed, as his eyes never left mines from the mirror, skin clappings filling the big bathroom, bouncing off the walls like music.

travis didn’t let up, slightly gripping the ends of my hair, smoothly gripping my neck as my hands touched the mirror, my mouth falling at all the pleasure I had felt in that moment.

“mnm, you see that? that fuckin’ ring? that’s all fuckin’. mines. say it.” travis gritted in my ear as his hand collided with right ass cheek, making eye contact from my upside down vision, whimpering, gripping his hand.

it felt like heaven.

“mnm…it’s yours baby, all fucking yours! ouu—ouu shit!” i whimper-moaned the last part, gritting my teeth as my mouth gaped open.

travis kissed me every chance he got, as he slapped my ass again, as i began matching his rhythm even on all fours standing.

“uh—-uhhh huh-im gonna cum.” i groaned out, as a whimper, feeling myself push back at his chest, grabbing my arm, holding it in place.

i lost it.

“what?”

“im gonna cum, i w-wanna cum.”

“y’ain’t loud enough for me, baby, what’s that?”

“im finna cum!” i whine-cried, closing my eyes shut as he slapped my ass cheek once again, groaning at the sight of me painting his dick pure-white, soonly hearing droplets hit the marble floor.

“you squirtin’ baby?” travis was suprised but wasn’t, as i went silent, my eyes rolling into the back of my skull, just babbling sweet nothings as i let it all out, saying his name under my breath.

“let it all out. mhm. such a good girl for me.” travis encouraged and praised me as felt him pull out, slapping my ass as i weakly held onto the counter, feeling him take me onto the bed.

A SHORT TIME LATER, the skin clappings surfaced the room as my knees touched my chest, my legs opened wide as i the white creamy-wet sight glistened my vision as i held onto his hand, as his other was forcing my head to watch the sight underneath me.

“ouuu—daddy! fuck me just—like that! mhm yes!” i cried out as he didn’t allow me dip my head back not once.

he was enjoying this all at once.

“you like it huh?”

“mhm, it’s so big baby.” i teased as i but my lip, looking up at him. just a undone slut.

my eyelashes were practically sweating off with my makeup and hair, i looked sweated out, along with him.

“you gonna cum for me again, baby?” travis bit his lip at me as i nodded, his hand collided into mines as his strokes remained rough and tact.

“yes daddy, mnm it’s all yours, i love the way you fuck me, mhm.” i whined again as i looked up at him, feeling him swirl his hips, slightly his strokes got sloppier.

his grunts, groans and moans grew louder with every messy stroke he sent as his chest touched mines, feeling him sloppily kiss me, mixing some salvia and tongues with it as well.

“cum in me, give it to me daddy.” i moaned in the kiss as i wrapped my legs around his waist as he grunted fully in my mouth, before sitting up, pulling out, letting a loud “pop!” sound full the air.

straight creampie. “you still gotta attitude with me?”

i shook my head as i smiled, looking down at the oozing cum from my thigh. “no.”

[ HEY YALL. MERRY CHRISTMAS. 🎄 I HOPE YALL GOT YOUR NFL MAN UNDER YOUR TREE BC I DID! ]

not proofread — • so excuse mistakes.

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Warnings: Suggestive Content, Revealing Clothing

Summary: Having all of 141 over for Simon’s birthday isn’t the problem, it’s what you got him. 

A/N: Based on the old beer poster trend on tik tok.

Word Count: 1.2k (Barely Edited)

It was only supposed to be a gag gift. Honestly, you forgot about it right after getting it framed and printed. It was stuffed in the back of your closet for so long that you had to wipe away dust from the wrapping paper. 

You were scrolling mindlessly on social media while Simon was away on the job, and the video had popped up. At first, you only giggled at the idea and continued on. But as the day went on, it kept popping up in your mind. It really was just a spontaneous idea, something you and Simon would laugh at and then forget about after you showed him. 

It just so happened to be a few months before Simon’s birthday, and you told yourself you would randomly give it to him as you both sipped on some drinks with a movie playing in the living room. But, since you totally forgot about it, you had decided to invite Simon’s coworkers over to celebrate with you. Simon, of course, had grunted when you told him to invite them over. But after a few pleading looks (and telling him he wouldn’t be able to touch you at all for a week), he relented and agreed. 

They all sat around in the den, reminiscing over old stories while a game played low on the TV. Food was free for grabs in the kitchen for the boys to get up and grab plates of while they sipped on beers and glasses of hard liquor. Gifts were placed on the coffee table, waiting for the time when Simon would need to open them. Honestly, everything was going fine. The boys were in high spirits despite finishing a gruesome mission less than a week ago, and Simon was more relaxed than he would ever admit. 

But then, after Simon sat awkwardly through an out of tune rendition of happy birthday and blowing out candles, it was time for gifts. You had kissed his cheek and carried the rest of the uneaten cake back to the fridge for storing, leaving the boys to their whoops of excitement every time Simon opened a gift. By the time you got back, Simon was on to the last gift. You sat next to him on the sofa and tried not to laugh when Simon unwrapped a pair of socks with Soap’s face printed over the entirety of it. 

As Simon grumbled about them through the boys’ laughter, Price turned to you with a soft smile. “How about you, kid? What did ya get Ghost? Didn’t see a gift from ‘ya,”

That instantly caught the other boys’ attention, the boys started asking the same question while Simon stared at you silently. Your brows were furrowed in confusion about why your gift wasn’t with the rest when the memory of it hit you. Your face instantly went a deep red and you picked up Simon’s glass to take a nervous sip. 

“Oh, um.. It’s in the room but, y’know… it’s fine really. I can just get it later.” You mumbled into the glass, not meeting their eyes.

All the boys groaned in protest, complaining how unfair it is that all they got to see was ugly Soap socks. You could only chuckle nervously while Simon leaned slightly towards you, “It’s okay, lovie. Go get it.” 

The soft look in his eyes made you a goner. You gulped nervously and got up, walking to you and Simon’s shared bedroom before opening the closet. You pulled out the rectangular gift and walked back to the group. They instantly shouted their excitement when they saw you with the gift in hand. 

You sat back to Simon, a shy smile on your face as you handed it to him with a small Happy Birthday, Si. With the gift covering both of you due to the sheer size, he mumbled back a thanks with a small kiss to your cheek. He opened it slowly, brows furrowing as he got more and more confused as he revealed it. When he ripped enough of the wrapping paper off to get a clear image, he froze and tensed with a soft curse. Fuck.

Through the hole in the wrapping, a picture of you in a skimpy (and impractical) military outfit was revealed. It was more of an army green bikini, fake weapon holsters wrapped around your thighs like garters. A cropped military jacket was draped over your shoulders and knee high black boots traveled up your legs. You looked like an overly sexualized video game character, standing in an open legged and confident pose in front of a fake desert background. Simon pushed a bit of the paper away from one of the sides, revealing a skull mask in your hand resting against your leg. Simon gulped as he focused on it. 

“Is it that bad L.T? Let us have a peak!” Gaz spoke up, trying to lean closer toward Ghost to take a look at what he was staring so intensely at.

Simon instantly growled at him, pushing the gift into his chest and away from any peering eyes. He turned his head to you, a glare on his face. Now he understands your hesitance to give him the gift in front of his friends. You gulped and mouthed out a sorry. He turned away from you again, pushing Gaz’s face away from him with a strangled, “No.”

The boys complained again, trying to convince their lieutenant to show them what you got him. He instantly shut it down, telling them to back off before going back to the bedroom to keep the picture away from them. When he left, everyone tried to get you to tell them what it was. You only shrugged and sipped sheepishly on Simon’s drink. 

Soon after, you were showing everyone out. The game was over and barely any food was left. The boys thanked you for inviting them over, clapping Simon’s back with the last of their birthday wishes before closing the door behind them. When the last of them left, Simon shut the door and turned around to face you. 

“Hi,” you whispered shyly, watching as he folded his arms and leaned back against the door.

“Hi,” was his gruff response back. 

Silence developed between the two, causing you to shift on your feet nervously. You were thinking about what else to say when Simon spoke up: “Who else?”

You blinked, surprised he was the first to speak and confused at his question, “Wha-”

“Who else saw that picture?” He clarified, pushing off the door and walking towards you.

You gulped at his closeness, watching nervously as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear gently. “Uh, my friend, you know the one who does photography during her free time, took the pictures and edited them. But I printed it at the self-printing center.”

Simon hummed in acknowledgement, lazily running his fingers up and down your neck and jaw. “Good.”

Another wave of silence stretched after that. You stood quietly as Simon continued lightly tracing the skin around your face before you spoke up again. “Did..did you, uh, like it?”

Simon chuckled lightly, bending down to place his face in the crook of your neck. You shiver as his warm breath and lips graze the sensitive skin of your throat. Simon’s hand runs down the side of you, until he grasps your hand. Ever so slowly, he drags your hand up to the front of his pants, holding it to the bulging fabric of his jeans.

“You could say that.”

The writing is BAD! I'm so sorry this is literally rushed and Simon is so OOC.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Study

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: Doing schoolwork while the team is round is not a good idea

The sun patch you were lying in was delightful.

The noise around you, was not.

You opened your eyes blearily, narrowing them to slits in annoyance.

Lucy stared at you and then pointedly turned the tv up in volume, laughing at your disgruntled look.

"Turn it back down," You said.

"No."

"Lucy," You whined," Please turn it down."

"Sorry, kiddo," Keira said as she appeared," But the rest of the team are coming over soon and you've got an essay to write."

You groaned at the reminder but sat up. The whole reason you had taken a nap in the first place was to procrastinate about writing your essay.

"Keira..."

"No, y/n," She said," Part of the agreement we made with your parents was keeping your grades up. I won't make you sit at the kitchen table to write it while the team is round but you have to get it finished today."

You groaned again but relented, grabbing your laptop from where it was charging nearby and pulling up your plan.

Your teammates flooded in through the next hour.

Asisat tapped you on the head as she passed to get to the kitchen. "School work?"

You rolled your eyes. "What gave it away?"

She laughed. "The fact that you've been staring at the screen for nearly twenty minutes and haven't typed a thing."

You darted your eyes across the room to look at Keira, who clearly hadn't noticed. You sent an awkward smile Asisat's way. "Don't tell Keira?"

"Your secret's safe with me."

The more people that arrived, the less you wanted to write your essay. The whole apartment had filled up with noise and even if you wanted to start typing, you were much more interested in hearing Claudia talk about the date she went on with her girlfriend.

You start typing your introduction before deciding you really can't be bothered right now and switch to writing about how Mark Antony's relationship with Cleopatra was the worst thing he could have done from the perspective of other Romans.

You were mindlessly typing and deleting your work when Frido and Aitana joined you on the sofa.

"How is your studying?" Aitana's English was getting much better now that she came around routinely to learn from Keira while you were forced to sit at the table and do your science work.

You gave her a deadpan look. "Oh, just great."

Frido laughed at your sarcasm. "Anything we can help with?"

"Unless you understand the intricacies of Mark Antony and Octavian's war for power after Caesar's death, then no."

Frido pulled a face. "You're studying that?"

"In theory."

Marta and Caro joined a moment later with cans of lemonade and snacks. You snatched up a KitKat quickly, anything to distract you from your next paragraph about Octavian's slanderous propaganda against his rival.

"How is our little student faring?" Marta asked, peering at your screen where you had repeatedly typed out 'I hate this class so much, I wish I could drop out'.

"Not good by the looks of it," Caro said even though it was obvious," What even is this?"

"Ancient Roman politics," Frido replied," It looks very boring."

"It's interesting," You said," Until you have to start writing essays and decide which of these horrible men was better."

"Who is better?" Aitana asked.

"...Octavian, because he won," You replied," But not because he was a better person. This is Rome - if you're not a bad person then are you really an Ancient Roman politician?"

The little group around you burst into laughter and Marta ruffled your hair. "You'll get it finished," She said," You're a smart girl."

Team bonding happened around you for the evening as you mindlessly typed and typed and typed until you were finally finished with your essay.

You stretched out in delight and headed into the kitchen where a to-do list hung on the fridge.

Irene, Sandra and Mariona were already there, studying it curiously as you grabbed a pen from the top of the fridge (standing on your tiptoes to reach it) before you crossed off your Classical Civilisations essay.

"That's a lot of work," Mariona said," This is for the whole month?"

"This is for the week," You replied, taking in her shocked look at your words," But I'm nearly done." You crossed off the Physics homework you finished last night along with the Maths worksheet you got done before practice this morning.

"It gets this bad?" Irene asked," I worry about when Mateo starts school properly."

You frowned. "I'm pretty sure that Mateo getting homework will be doing a drawing rather than writing essays."

"Well, if it helps," Sandra cut in," At least you've finished your essay now! You're free!"

You shook your head and pointed to the only thing Lucy had contributed to your list.

FINISH YOUR FUCKING PSYCHOLOGY ESSAY

"It's about language development in infants," You said, opening the fridge and grabbing some more lemonade.

When you finally made your way back to the living room, your seat had been taken by some of the girls so you ended up sitting in front of the armchair that Ingrid and Mapi had taken refuge on.

Instantly, Ingrid's hands threaded through your hair, massaging your scalp before pulling strands out of your face and pulling them into an intricate braid.

Apart from ever so slightly making you move your head to different positions, you were left mostly alone as you typed away about more research studies using brain imaging.

Mapi shifted behind you and you could tell she was trying to read over your shoulder.

"Why do you need to learn this?" She asked.

"It's interesting," You replied," I thought about doing psychology at uni before Barca signed me. I just hate writing about it."

"It looks boring."

"It's not," You said. Ingrid tied off your new braid and you turned to look at Mapi with a wolfish smile. "Besides, is it boring for you because it hits too close to home? Since you're such a child?"

Mapi swatted at you jokingly, lightly kicking you in the back until you shifted away from her with your laptop.

You refuge came in the form of the pile on the floor in front of the tv. Bruna and Jana welcomed you into the group instantly and you found yourself sandwiched between Ona and Esmee, who were viciously going against each other in FIFA.

"Is your essay finished?" Esmee asked," Keira told me not to text you after practice because you were writing your essay."

"Nearly," You replied," I've just got one more paragraph and then the conclusion. Ona's about to score, by the way."

With your words, Esmee just managed to block the shot as Ona shoved you in annoyance.

Jana and Bruna broke into laughter and peered over your shoulder.

"You used the wrong word," Jana said, pointing to where you had been writing about Piaget.

"It's kind of embarrassing that you're correcting me on my own native language," You said to her even as you corrected yourself.

"Learn Spanish," Bruna said," She makes a lot of mistakes in that."

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do!"

"You so do," Ona said," And y/n, you've got your tenses wrong."

You hadn't even noticed that the match had ended and that Ona was studying your essay until she spoke. Esmee looked over it as well, pointing at another grammar mistake.

You slapped their hands away and pointed to each of you. "Stop it! It'll get spellchecked at the end! You're ruining my creative process!"

"What creative process?" Jana laughed," You're writing an essay!"

"I hate you!" You declared with a laugh," Each and every one of you!" You pointed at them each in turn.

"Don't lie!" Bruna said," You love us."

You bat your eyelashes at her. "Write my essay and you'll have my undying love!"

"No chance!"

You finished your essay soon after without any of their help (although you would be the first to admit that your conclusion wasn't exactly the best) and hurried to cross it off the list, snatching it off the fridge. You sought out Keira in a group of the older girls. You showed her the list.

"I'm done!"

She took it from you, looking it over sceptically.

"And your psychology essay?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Keira, promise!"

"She promises, Keira!" Patri mocked your tone with a smile as Claudia and Gemma laughed.

You were one second away from stamping your foot but you refrained because you would never live down the 'little kid' allegations from your teammates if you did so.

"Look at this face!" Gemma said, cupping your cheeks," How could you be mean to this one?"

Keira had a contemplative look on her face.

"Come on, Keira," Claudia said," It's the weekend. We have a match in two days. She's been doing her work since we arrived. Let her have this."

"She could have had it finished before you all arrived if she hadn't taken a nap after practice."

"She's a growing girl!" Patri declared," She needs her nap so she can be big and strong like me when she grows up!"

An arm was thrown over your shoulder and you bit back your retort that the world couldn't handle two versions of Patri.

"Oh...fine, then. y/n go let Narla out of your room and then you're free for the rest of the day."

"Yes!" You pumped your fist into the air and hurried off.

Narla had been shut into your room the moment you came home after Keira watched you play with the little dog instead of doing your homework so she seemed very happy to be free, leaping into your arms like a little princess and making you walk her into the living room.

Salma and Cata intercepted you on the way, cooing over Narla like they had never met her before even though they had.

"It's strange to see you without your laptop," Cata said to you as she tickled under Narla's chin," I thought that it was surgically attached to you or something."

You would have shoved her if you had access to your hands but you didn't so settled for an unimpressed eyeroll. "Ha, ha, very funny. Make fun of my massive workload. I don't see you studying while playing football!"

"You know," Salma said and you already knew she was going to say something to tease you," When I was your age, I didn't have to worry about deadlines because I just did my work the day it got set."

You scoffed. "You're only three years older than me!" You stuck your tongue out at her. "If you want to write my essays for me, Salma, you should have just asked."

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "That sounds like hell on earth."

You laughed all the way back to the living room, placing Narla on the floor and grabbing some snacks from the table when nobody was looking. You ended up on the floor for the most part, sat by Lucy's chair as the older woman sat above you, occasionally reaching down to feed you chocolate when she was sure Keira wasn't looking. But as it got later in the evening, you ended up migrating onto the sofa with Alexia.

"I heard you finished all your schoolwork for the week," She said as you lazed against her side, watching whatever Spanish soap opera Patri had forced onto the tv.

"Uh-huh." You were only half listening as you dozed off. Her nails scratched lightly at your scalp and the blanket that had been thrown over the pair of you made you feel all cosy and warm.

"Well done, y/n. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you," You slurred slightly, head dropping to her shoulder as your vision got blurrier and blurrier.

"Are you tired, bebita?"

"No..."

Her chuckle jolted her body slightly but it was a little like the vibrations from being in a car so your eyes just drooped lower. "I think you are."

"Not...Not tired."

"You are. I think all that studying took it out of you."

"No..." You whined slightly and Alexia pulled you in a bit tighter. She manipulated your body in some way you didn't realise because you blinked and suddenly you were lying stretched out with your head in her lap. "I'm...I'm not tired."

You had already missed out on team bonding because of your studying. You didn't want to miss out on any more.

"You are very tired." Alexia's tone was firm but still somehow soothing and her nails drew patterns on your arm comfortingly. "You just need a little nap."

You tried to protest but Alexia's voice just got a bit firmer and a bit more like her captain voice so you knew that you couldn't argue back.

"Come on, bebita. It's nap time for good students like you. I'll wake you up when the food gets here."

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Smut Challenge - Neighbor Series] Simon “Ghost”Riley*Fem!Reader

Simon with a Cam girl!Reader neighbor.

Word Count: 2.3K

CW: 18+, mdni, pet names, streaming, masturbating, I’m practicing writing smut :)

pls tell me if I forget to tag something in CW! tyvm!

Simon Riley is obsessed with you.

If someone told him that he would be crazy for a cam girl one day, he would definitely snort in their face, but here he was, clicking on your name to join the stream, watching you riding a pink dildo, thighs trembling and eyes rolling back when it hit the spongy spot.

Your eyes darted, shooting the screen a glimpse when you heard the sound effect you set just for him when he joined the stream.

“Simon! Welcome back!”

Oh, how much he missed your honey-soaked voice calling his name sweetly. Simon took his cock in his fist, which already hardened once he heard you moan out when you head back to pleasure yourself, pretty cunt swallowing the dildo too perfect that he wished it was his cock instead.

‘Simon donated $200: Missed me, baby girl?’

Simon mindlessly stroked his cock with his left hand while he donated, he saw your eyes widen at the notification and shifted closer to the camera.

“I missed you, Simon... hmm...Can’t you see...?”

A moan slipped through his clenched jaw when you showed him your puffy pussy, thighs stained with your juices, and you started pumping the dildo in and out of your cunt again, that’s when he started losing his control, moaning and grunting with you, making a chord in his room, and his pace quickened when your voice getting louder and higher.

“Simon! I'm coming... I'm coming...!”

He whispered your name when you hit your high, his cock shooting spurts and spurts of hot cum when you called out his name while orgasm rushed through your body, as you collapsed onto the floor.

A few minutes later, Simon watched you regain the energy to sit up and say goodbye to chat and of course — him.

“Simon, see you next time!”

Your stream room became a dark screen, Simon’s room only illuminate by the light of his laptop, and he stared at his fist, white cum scattered.

His mind wandered to the time you moaned out his name a few minutes ago.

He was down bad.

Simon became extremely grumpy the next week.

You hadn’t streamed for over 5 days, first two days he assumed you might just want some rest, but when he looked at the ‘offline’ on your streaming status on the third night, he started becoming anxious.

The paperwork forming a pile on his desk made him additionally angry, he yelled and scolded the stupid recruits harsher than he used to, even Soap became attentive when joking with him, noticing his lieutenant's bad temper lately.

Maybe you were sick, maybe you went on a vacation with someone.

Someone... What if they were your boyfriend?

Simon never thought about the idea you might have a partner, but now he reminded himself, and he felt more and more annoyed when this idea kept running through his mind.

He ruffled his messy hair, it was finally weekend, giving him some time to relax, but there was no chance he could truly relieve all of his stress when you weren’t streaming. The only methods left are smoking, drinking, becoming a couch potato, and maybe eating some microwave food.

but seemed like the whole world was fucking with him right now, because no food or beer was remaining in his fridge, so he needed to go on shopping.

What he never expected was the sight in front of him when he opened the door of his flat.

There was you, his dream, carrying a box and standing at the next door, where he knew there would be a new neighbor.

His pupils dilated, eyes locked on you, as you recognized his presence and turned around, face delighted with an adorable smile.

“... hello? Hello? Sir?”

He snapped out of his trance when he realized you — now only a few inches next to him — head tilting up to face him with concern on your face.

“Hello.” He simply nodded.

“I’m moving into the flat next to yours today, nice to meet you.” He stared at your plump lips, glistening with the lipstick you used, while trying not to form a fucking boner in front of his new neighbor when you told him your name. “What’s your name, sir?”

“Just call me Simon.”

“Simon?” He noticed you crooked your eyebrow at his response.

“Any problem, love?” The pet name floated out his mouth fluently, as if it was what he said to you every day.

“Oh... nothing! just have an old friend whose name is Simon too, but it’s quite a common name.”

You waved your hands, but it only made Simon wonder if that ‘Simon’ was him.

“Well, I need to finish placing everything in their place, let’s chat next time, or maybe you can come to my flat and have dinner together.” You reached out your hand, “again, glad to know you, Simon!”

He watched you step into your flat, the door shut behind you, and now he could finally let out the sigh he held once he saw you.

Your hands were so, so soft, and he could smell the shower gel you used when you turned around and walked away, unknowing your movement drowned him in your scent.

He wondered whether you would stream today.

He didn’t need to open the streaming website to know if you were online now, he now could jerk while hearing you whining and moaning his name while he sent hundreds and hundreds of donations, calling you a good girl or pretty doll.

Speakers ruined your beautiful voices, he listened to you tumbled over your orgasm directly now.

You should be happy that only you two lived on this floor.

but what he noticed is that you would masturbate when you weren’t streaming, and it was a huge discovery.

because he realized you still called out his name when you weren’t streaming.

“Simon... oh god... you’re so big…”

He made sure to memorize this beautiful melody, whilst he fisted his cock furiously, how eager he wanted to break this common wall, pressed you onto your bed and fuck you until you couldn’t walk straightly the next day, gave you what you truly want, what you truly deserved.

but for now, your relationship only stayed as friends, you sometimes invited him to your place for dinner, and this became a little habit that you two shared.

“You need to leave for two weeks?” Your voice raised at his words, while he picked up the last broccoli on his plate.

You already knew he work in the military, and he fucking loved that you greeted him with home-cooked dinner whenever he came back from deployment, at the same time, he hated seeing the sadness on your angelic face every time he told you he won’t be here for a while.

“two weeks, it will pass very quickly.”

“Okay...” you compromised to the reality, but the unhappiness on your face still lingered. “Just be safe and take care of yourself, please?”

He swallowed down his broccoli when you stood up so you could hug him. You always did this before missions, after the time he told you he had no family members anymore.

He melted in your arms, eyes closed when he returned the embrace.

“I will.”

Just as Simon said, two weeks flew in the blink of an eye, and his craving to finish the mission as quickly as possible so he could return to you was obvious, even Gaz started asking him if he had someone waiting for him at home, which he shot him a death glare to shut the sergeant up.

but hell, seeing you again literally was the only thing he wanted to do after the mission was completed, so he jumped on the earliest Uber he could book and rushed home immediately after he was able to leave.

Well, he really just thirsted for a dinner time with you, or maybe jerk to your sugary sounds behind his door, wholeheartedly, but all his plans changed when he stepped out of the elevator and heard you cry out his name in pleasure.

All his restraints were gone in the millisecond, and he carelessly threw the bag aside.

Around half a minute after Simon knocked on your door, you finally came to the door, clothes wearing sloppily and shallowly panting, he could even see your nipple perking through your t-shirt.

“Oh! Simon! Welcome back!” bloody hell, even the same word you always said to him when he joined the stream.

Without answering, Simon pushed you into your flat, and closed the door behind you two, locking any rational thoughts outside.

“Such a needy girl, moaning my name while pleasuring yourself when I’m deployed, eh?”

He leaned down to nip at your earlobe and saw your face blushed due to embarrassment.

“Sorry- I’m just... you are too similar to my friend, I...” Your eyes shifted, unable to meet his, but he chuckled when he heard your poor defense.

“your friend... or do you mean your supporter? hmm? On that streaming website which you shamelessly ride a dildo and moan out my name?”

Now you finally meet his gaze, stuttering as you connect everything.

“You are the Simon from my stream?!��

Simon didn’t answer you, instead, he bent you over the counter, hands traveled across your thigh, went north to your core, and cupped it in his samely heated palm.

“You know how much I want to fuck you when you play with yourself just a wall from me? how much I want you to scream out my name until everyone knows you belong to me?”

He tore your pants off and smirked at your lack of underwear inside.

“you know you could always ask me when you’ve missed me so much, love.”

His callused fingers slipped between your folds, and you didn’t even need lubes, previous masturbation and his words already made your pussy drool with prominent juices.

“Please... I need you, Simon. Please fuck me.” You look over your shoulder, and the man gives you an open mouth kiss at your nape.

“I’ve got you, princess.”

You yelped when he suddenly scooped you into his arms and carried you inside your room, but he didn’t bring you to your bed, instead, he set you down at the place you usually stream at.

“go live on the website, baby.” When you were still processing what he said, he already reached out his arm to open your laptop.

“Wait... Simon, you want me to stream?!”

“yeah, let the world see only I can make you feel the best.”

Your hands quivered when you took over the mouse, and just as you clicked on ‘go live’, you felt Simon nudging the tip at your entrance.

“He-Hello... guys, today we have a special guest, he’s- ahh!” Just as the viewers started joining the stream, and you were about to explain the difference of today’s stream, Simon suddenly push all of his shafts into your cunt, hitting your cervix and forcing you to squeal out to the heavenly bliss, you spare a mind to check the camera could only record you and Simon’s lower body before you got pulled into a glorious state by him.

You can’t even form a proper sentence as Simon’s hands anchored at your hips, and he moved his hips at an inhuman speed, the slightly up-tilt of his fat cock made it able to hit the right spot every time he rammed into your tight pussy.

“Simon! Simon! Oh god, you’re too big! I’m gonna cum!”

Your eyes rolled back at Simon’s brutal pace, and his grunts only made you climb to the peak much quicker than usual.

“yeah? Only I can make you feel good, cum for me, love, cum for your best supporter.”

His coos and a hard thrust sent you over the edge, you squirted all over the floor, screaming out Simon’s name when he kept his thrusting, and you became a whining mess.

you could hear donations flooding in your stream like pouring rain, but you couldn’t thank each of them, not when the man you lusted for so long still maintained his pace and overstimulated you till you started squirming.

“bloody hell... you’re so tight, doll. Do I fucking you in front of your viewers make you so excited?” You could hear Simon taunting you, but all you could do was ramble an uncoherent answer to him.

“Yes! You make me feel so good! ahh... Simon, stop! I can’t! I’m gonna cum again!”

Not only you felt like you were in paradise, Simon’s frequent grunting and the kisses he continuously planted on your shoulder allowed you to know he was enjoying too.

“fuck... gripping me like a vice, you can do it, baby, cum with me, I’m gonna mark this pussy as mine.”

When Simon’s hand reach down to rub circles at your clit, he finally granted you the orgasm, and your tight cunt forced his out too, hot cum painting your inner walls in white.

Recovering from the orgasm, Simon looked down at you — unable to lift yourself up, body shaking at the aftertaste.

He smirked, and shut down your laptop.

“Stream’s over, goodbye.”

With a smash of his hand, your stream room became black again.

[whyse7vn]

MIN YOONGI & KIM SEOKJIN

NICER:

“You know….” Jin looks over to Yoongi he’s sprawled out on a black couch thats sits in middle of the room they’re both in mindlessly scrolling through his phone. “It’s almost time to renew our contracts”

“So?” Yoongi replies his full attention still being held by his phone.

“Well, don’t tell her” Yoongi pauses “I told you this but y/ns been kinda on the fence about it all”

“About renewing her contract?”

“About being in the group all together”

Yoongi’s phone falls flat to his chest. Jin bites back a smirk.

“What?”

“Again don’t tell her i told you this but she said being in the groups gotten a little suffocating that we all argue too much and tha—”

“Bullshit”

“I’m not joking you know she comes to me about stuff why would i lie?”

Yoongi pauses for a moment. Why would Seokjin his good friend of over 10 years lie to him?

There are many reasons actually like that one time he took that sandwich out the fridge that was clearly labelled “JINS DO NOT EAT” and ate it right in his face or that other time when he tripped Jin up during rehearsals for no reason at all or that time—

“Trust me she was like really serious about it and—”

Yeah Yoongi doesn’t believe him, not one bit.

“So why are you telling me this shouldn’t you go talk to Joon about this stuff?”

“You know how Namjoon is can’t say no to her like… ever she would be gone before we know it and i thought about bringing it up with Jungkook but you also know how he is..”

“What about Jimin? Hobi? The fucking company, why me?”

“It’s just ‘cuz she said- never mind it’s not important forget i mentioned this”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing… i just i- i don’t want you to think it’s your fault or anything”

“So it’s my fault”

Yoongi now sits fully up right on the couch he was once slouched on with his eyebrows furrowed and gaze locked on Jin.

Jin bites back another smirk.

“No! not at all she just said some… stuff don’t worry about it!”

“What did she say” It’s not a question anymore.

“Well just that maybe you could uh.. be nicer or something?”

“Nicer?” Yoongi is now fully stood up one fist clenched and a head full of questions.

“Me? …Nicer?”

“That’s what she said” Jin shrugs.

Yoongi knows he isn’t the best to his fellow members often rejecting their various displays of affection and saying somewhat mean things to them on occasion. Sure he might of ‘lovingly’ punched a few of them a couple times called them some unkind names but not you! well he did call you a bitch once … or twice but you knew he was joking right? And he says sorry… sometimes, so Yoongi’s not even that mean, not at all, like it’s tough love or whatever. Yoongi can be nice. Yoongi is nice.

Yoongi stares back at Jin.

“Do you… think i could be nicer?”

There’s a pause.

“Well…”

Oh. Ok maybe Yoongi isn’t as nice as he thought he was. But it wasn’t that bad.

“…just considering she wants to leave the group because of it…”

Right. It’s is that bad.

Yoongi’s gaze drops the floor momentarily. He notices his phone that once held his attention now resides ontop of the fluffy carpet beneath his feet, but that’s the least of his concern right now. He feels a little sick and a whole lot embarrassed.

“Did she uh say anything else… about me i mean” He looks everywhere but Jin another wave of embarrassment taking over him as the question leaves his mouth.

Jin cocks his head at Yoongi in clear amusement, Not that Yoongi could catch onto it anyways too caught up in his own mind at the moment.

“How about we discuss this over coffee my treat! I think there’s a way we can sort this all out”

—

part 2 HERE

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @blairebangtan @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks @futuristicenemychaos

[iliketangerines]

I need some absolute deviousness rn but, hear me out;

Yandere god Raiden getting mad when you get bored of playing mortal kombat, like he knows he's in a game and so does all the others and sometimes you could see his character look at you through the screen eugghhh

And then he overrides the new game you're playing and snatches you up :33

stuck in a dream

a/n: god i need him so bad it isn't even funny

pairing: lord raiden x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), nipple play, pussy eating, finger fucking, electrostim, creampies, size kink, praise kink, slight overstimulation, not proofread

you stare at your desktop, trying to decide whether or not to play the new Mortal Kombat 1 game or to play Mortal Kombat 11, and you flick between the two of them

the appeal of the new game is tempting, but you had a soft spot for Mortal Kombat 11, especially Lord Raiden

you had painstakingly unlocked every skin and detail and item for the god, had bought stickers of him that decorated your water bottle and laptop, had pins of him on your bag, had hung charms of him from your keys

your friends often joked about your obsession with lord Raiden, and it never failed to make you blush and smack them out of embarrassment

sure, maybe the obsession you had with him was a little unorthodox, but it wasn’t like he was real or anything

staring at the screen, you purse your lips and click purchase on the new game, watching the little icon load and give you a loading time

a couple of hours, enough to get some dinner and then take a nap before you play

you set down the controller and get up out of your seat, stretching out your stiff muscles and walking over to the door, ready to go and microwave something from the fridge

the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as a feeling of unease creeps up your spine, like someone was watching you, and you turn around

your bedroom was still empty, the window blinds open, and you place a hand over your beating heart and walk over to the window and make sure it’s locked before you close the blinds

seems like you were on edge for no reason, but it was a tad strange still for you to be on edge so sudden

you shake off the feeling and pad off to the kitchen and microwave some leftover rice and side dishes, scrolling through your phone mindlessly and avoiding spoilers left and right

as you finally wash the last dish and leave it in the drying rack, you fill up your water bottle and walk back to your bedroom

sparing a glance to your computer, you nearly have a heart attack when you see the Mortal Kombat 11 game open on the character select screen, Lord Raiden staring right ahead

okay, you most definitely didn’t open the Mortal Kombat 11 game when you left your room, and you sit back into your chair and take hold of the controller

Lord Raiden stares ahead at you, and you purse your lips

something felt different, like he was actually staring at you and not just forward, and you quickly exit out of the game, watching your screen load and then finally close the game

static shocks your fingers and you drop the controller into your lap, rubbing at your fingers and staring at your controller

that…that most definitely was not normal, but maybe you were just tired and needed some sleep, that nap sounded really appealing right now

you check on the progress of the game, halfway done downloading, nothing seemed wrong with it, and you rub at your eyes and sigh

yeah, you were definitely just tired, work had just been long today

standing up from your chair, you just flop onto the bed behind your chair and don’t bother with covering yourself in the blanket as you close your eyes

it’s easier than expected to fall asleep, and you sigh and snuggle, letting yourself drift into the land of dreams

a jolt wakes you up, and you twitch violently, eyes snapping open, except you’re not in your room

the room resembles more a temple rather than your apartment room, and you blink for a second, sleep still heavy over your body

oh, you were probably just dreaming

getting up off the bed, you open up the door, heavy and sturdy beneath your fingertips and walk through the compound

it’s like you’ve been transported into a historical c-drama about monks, the temple vast an gorgeous and clearly built with a lot of respect and love and money

something buzzes in your brain, the temple looked so familiar, but you’re sure that you’ve never seen this building in real life

turning another corner, you find someone large and much too tall to be human standing in a room, talking with two others

wait, no, was that Liu Kang and Kung Lao? were you so deep into Mortal Kombat that you had started dreaming about them?

Liu Kang glances over to your and his eyebrows draw up in surprise at your appearance, his mouth slightly opening as he repeats your name

oh yeah, definitely a dream, but your heart still stutters in your chest when the tall imposing figure turns around and reveals himself to be Lord Raiden

heat rushes up to your cheeks, and you clear your throat and say hi to all three of them, hoping that you didn’t look as flustered as you felt

Lord Raiden stares down at you, hands twitching at his sides, and he steps toward you, making you crane your neck up to stare at him

you don’t expect it when his hands come up to cup your face, almost as if inspecting you, bright eyes wide with wonder as he touches your face

he squishes your face slightly and then murmurs something underneath his breath that you can’t quite hear over the beating of your heart

his eyes seem to glow as he stares at you and a shiver goes up your spine, the same one from before

strange, but the thought it swept away when he grabs onto your waist and hoists you over his shoulder, making you squeak and your hands to try and steady yourself

the last glimpse you see of Kung Lao and Liu Kang is them looking at you with a terrified expression before a flash of lightning overtakes your vision

you blink away the white, nearly losing your breath when Lord Raiden throws you onto the bed and just towers over you, just staring at you and breathing heavily

he mumbles that he’s been waiting for this for so long, to finally have you in this bed, and your brain swims with this self-indulgent fantasy

well, you might as well enjoy this while you can, and you smile up at him, telling him to show you just how much he had longed for you

his lips part and then he leans down and kisses you, warm and heady all the same, broad chest pressing firmly into you, only his own arms holding himself up

you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back, humming into his mouth at how warm and real this felt

brains truly were a wonderful thing

his lips are desperate, never stopping, barely tilting his head back to catch a breath before he’s back on you, groaning about how he wished for this ever since he had laid eyes on you

a slow warmth fills you up as he continues to kiss, and you tug off his hat and his cowl, threading your hand through his hair and slightly opening your eyes

bright white hair that seemed to glow in time with his heartbeat, how interesting

he pulls away, blinking slowly at you, pushing his hips toward the bed, forcing you to part them open to accommodate for his size

you continue to play with his hair, mindlessly playing with it, and he lets you, staring at your lips, your eyes, your neck

he leans down and presses light kisses to your neck, slightly nipping at the skin, and you let out a surprised sound when his teeth are sharper than you had expected

Lord Raiden doesn’t acknowledge your surprise, shoulders simply flexing as he kisses his way down your neck until his lips reach the edge of your clothing

one of his hands lift up to remove the offending piece of clothing, and you smile at him and tell him that you can get it off yourself

his lips downturn into a frown at the thought of having to get off of you, and he shuffles back up just enough to place another kiss on your lips before slowly peeling himself off of you

you sit up on the bed, grabbing onto the edge of your shirt and slowly taking it off over your head, teasing him with your skin

he focuses right onto your chest, the skin unmarked and all for him, and twitches toward you ready to get back on you and adorn you with his worship

slapping at his hand lightly, hs eye twitches, almost offended that you had told him in essence to stop touching you

but the expression quickly fades when you hands travel down to your pants, and you slowly take them off along with your underwear

his chest heaves up and down as he stares at you, completely enraptured with how you look, and one of his hands come toward you, squeezing at the soft flesh of your thigh

Lord Raiden looks back up to you, breathless and then mumbles that he truly had made the right decision, and before you can question him, his lips press to your chest

one of his hands palm at your chest, taking your sensitive nipple in between his rough fingertips and pinching lightly

you bite your lip and let out a small sound, one hand going over your mouth as you watch your favorite character kiss and lick at your chest

truly, this dream was a blessing

he sucks at your chest, drawing hickeys to the surface and then pressing the flat of his wide tongue over the mark and then lightly biting it

it makes you jolt and gasp, and the god looks back up at you and then closes his eyes as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples and sucks on it

his moans travel through you, making you gasp and let out a small whimper as your hands finally make your way into his hair

Lord Raiden just sucks harder, pressing his tongue into your nipple and flicking it back and forth before lightly nipping at it

his hand teases your other nipple, pinching and rolling it in between his rough fingers, and you whine out his name, hips jutting upwards

he opens his eyes to look at you, detaching his mouth from you for just a second, a string of spit connecting your nipples to his mouth, and he looks up at you expectantly

you suddenly feel embarrassed as he asks you what you want, his low voice making your head buzz, and you just manage to squeak out for him to go easy on you

rather than answering you, he simply switches his mouth to your other nipple, sucking on it and lightly nipping at it to make you whine and gasp while his other hand goes back to your spit-slicked nipple to roughly squeeze

squirming underneath him, you feel him groan into your chest as your hips rut upward for some type of friction on your clit, and he finally moves on from your chest to kiss down your stomach

his hands grab onto your thighs and bring them into his shoulders as he stares at your pussy, taking two of his fingers and spreading your folds apart to look at the mess you had made

heat spreads through you as he just stares, mouth slightly parted, and you frown and tug at his hair, asking him to please touch you in a hushed voice

for a dream, Lord Raiden sure liked to take his time

he flits his gaze to you before looking back to your dripping pussy and finally pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit

you moan and tilt your head back and close your eyes, mouth slightly parting as you let him taste you

it feels better than anything you could have imagined, the wide flat of his tongue lapping at your desperately, sending you spiraling into a pool of pleasure

the heat spreads throughout your body and fills your body with cotton, only your fingers firm as you hold onto his hair, trying to keep yourself grounded into reality

soon enough, your grip on reality disappears when two of his fingers slip in between your folds, collecting your wetness and then stretching open your cunt

you whine and squeeze around his fingers, gasping at how thick he is and panting into the air as you try to regain your sense of self

Lord Raiden grins into you, wrapping his lips around your clit and sliding his fingers in deeper, crooking his fingers upward to try and find your sweet spot

he doesn’t take long to find it when you whine loudly and then snap your mouth shut when you realize just how loud you had been

his fingers press into that spot insistently, sending pulses of pleasure echoing through you, and your legs squeeze his head, as if trying to get away from the stimulation

but it’s addicting, how he presses into you, how his tongue lavishes your clit with attention

you let out a sharp sound when a jolt of electricity runs through your sweet spot, your vision going white for a brief moment, and your hands twitch in his hair

another jolt goes through your sweet spot, and he brings his head away from you and slightly adjusts your position so that his other hand can press his thumb into your clit

realizing just a second too late what he’s going to do, you’re helpless as he runs electricity through you, blinding pleasure racing through you

your back can’t help but arch off the bed as you whine and whimper, mind going blank as you cum on his fingers, hips desperately rutting upwards to get away from the stimulation

the electricity running through your clit stops first and then his fingers buried deep in you finally relent on the electricity, opting to instead scissor them inside of you

you stare up at the ceiling of the bedroom, mind still reeling from what was probably the most intense orgasm of your life

he slips his fingers out of you, and your head lifts up just in time to catch him tasting your release on his fingers, moaning at the taste of you as he cleans his fingers off with his wide tongue

somehow, you think you’re more aroused at the sight, and you clench around nothing

Lord Raiden looks back at you and shuffles back upward, pulling his pants down just enough to reveal his cock, and you suddenly thank whatever god was up there that this was a dream because that would most definitely not fit inside of you in real life

it was flush at the tip, leaking pre-cum and you probably wouldn’t be able to make your hand wrap completely around it if you tried and you swear that it was longer than your forearm

he brings your attention back to him as one of his hands cup your cheek, and he tells you he’ll make it fit, that you and him finally have all the time in the world

odd comment, but you just smile back up at him and tell him to kiss you

smiling at you, he says he gladly will and leans down to kiss you, and you reach your hand down to try and give him back some modicum of pleasure he had given you earlier

his lips frown against yours, and he pulls back and slaps your hand away, telling you that he was going to enjoy his spoils today, that perhaps another time he’ll have you suck his cock

you frown at him, wanting to at least get a taste of him before you woke up, but he leaves no room for argument as he kisses you again and brings your legs to wrap around his waist

his cock grinds into you, dragging deliciously against your clit, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth at the feeling

it’s all he does for a moment, just kissing you, and your hands grip onto the back of his shirt, wanting to pull it off, to feel his skin underneath yours

he ignores your silent request and pulls away from your lips only to get up onto his knees, lifting your hips with him into the air and lining his cock up with your pussy

slowly, he pushes his way in, and you squeeze your eyes shut and claw at the sheets at the sting of pain that rushes through you

Lord Raiden doesn’t stop, simply pushing in further and further, and you gasp and whine out his name once again, trying to say that it was too much as you clench around him

he simply adjusts one of his hands so that his thumb covers your clit, and he slowly rub it back and forth to get you to relax

the pain and pleasure mixes and swirls in you, your body unsure of whether it wants more and if it wants to get away

pleasure wins as you hear the squelch of your pussy struggling to accommodate to his size, and he only stops when there’s too much resistance

finally, Lord Raiden speaks, telling you that you’re doing so well taking him, so so good for him, letting him taste you, to test on you, to kiss you

he glances down, saying that you still a little bit left, but that was okay, he would make sure to stretch you enough so that you could take him all one day

his words muddle and turn into a puddle in your brain as you let out labored breaths, still trying to adjust to his size

thankfully, he moves his thumb insistently against your sensitive clit, keeping you relaxed and slick as the sting of the stretch finally morphs into pleasure

you whimper for him to move, and there’s a slight pause before he finally draws his hips back slightly and thrusts back in

it still slightly stings, but you bear through it as he praises you, telling you that you were doing so well, so good for him, taking his cock so well

his thrusts slowly get longer and longer, rougher and rougher, until he pulls back so that just the tip remains and thrusts in, the wet sound of your pussy echoing in the room

your breathless pants fill the room with you whines and moans, and Lord Raiden is quiet, only letting out a few groans here and there

his lips are pursed together, as if he wanted to hear you better, to hear how he pleasured you

in the haze of pleasure, his cock stretching and pressing just right against that spot that makes pleasure flood through you, you don’t notice how his hands grip on tighter and how he mumbles under his breath that he finally has you forever

he fucks into you, and you whine out that you’re going to cum, hands gripping onto the sheets

Lord Raiden tells you that he knows, and he continues to rub his thumb against your clit, waiting breathlessly for you

you whimper and moan out his name, tilting your head back and letting out a long moan as you cum on his cock, hips slightly twitching in his grip

he groans as your pussy squeezes around him, and his own hips finally stutter as he buries in himself as deep as he can and groans out your name

his hips shallowly thrust into you to fuck his cum deeper into you, almost hesitantly like he didn’t want to leave your warmth

opening your eyes, you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, and he presses his lips together as he slips out of you, looking almost mournful at the loss of your heat

you only groan, overstimulation starting to kick in, and close your eyes again, feeling his hands brush up against your skin and then cup your face

his lips press to yours again before he tells you to rest and that he’ll get you cleaned up, and you let out a hum as you turn to your side and slightly curl up to get comfortable

when you take up, your vision is still slightly blurry with sleep, but you recognize the bedroom from your dream

you’re still not in your own bedroom

okay, so that was a little strange, and you lightly pay your face with both hands, trying to wake yourself up

you get up out of the bed and then fall down to the floor when you your legs don’t work, your body sore and tired from earlier

panic slightly sets in when the pain of falling down to the wooden floor doesn’t jolt you awake back into your own world, and you force yourself to stand up, using the nightstand next to you to grab onto with your hands to help yourself up

the door to the bedroom slides open, and Lord Raiden rushes over to you, saying that you were not nearly well enough to get up out of bed yet

you stare at him, complaining underneath your breath that this was some dream, and Lord Raiden quirks his head at you

he says that this was no dream, you were in his world now, for good

in his world

what the fuck

his smile unnerves you as you start to struggle, words sputtering and failing as you try to ask what he meant, and he only settles you back into the bed and says that he and you had all the time in the world since you were finally his

now that he had brought you from your world into his, everything was finally perfect, and your brain struggles to comprehend the weight of his words

he hums at your dumbfounded expression as he sits down on the bed, the mattress creaking and tipping toward him as he says that he has spent many many years here now

and you, his god, the player, his only solace were finally here in his arms, he wouldn’t be letting you go now

you start to understand why Liu Kang and Kung Lao had looked so terrified when he had whisked you away when his eyes slightly crackle red as he stares at you

[maximumkillshot]

I Can't Lose You

Warnings: Ok... this is gonna be a long one. Cursing, Lying, pain really... as far as the eye can see. Panic attacks. There is also another warning that I really wanna give but it'll also give a big part away.

Pairing: ? xReader (Another spoiler come on!)

Characters: All of the Stray Kids, OC Soo, Reader

A/N: This is my first posted Stray Kids fic, so if you like it I'll be happy to make more! Feedback is always appreciated! And if you like Supernatural as well here's my masterlist!

Overall Masterlist- Click Here

I Can't Lose You Masterlist-Click Here

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

Things started off small, a missed call here, and a late text there. Then, they started to get more sporadic… More suspicious. Most of all, it’s in his eyes. When he’d see the dinner made and packed in the fridge for him. The laundry and dishes done, you passed out on the couch, waiting for him to come home. You didn’t see it, but his face had guilt written all over it. 

You weren’t blind. You saw the lipstick on his collar, and the scent on his clothes. The times that you kept saying, “I know you’re busy” and pecking him on his lips, despite the perfume attacking your senses. 

You figured one of his sister idols hugged him, that’s how it transferred, yeah, that was a comfy thought. It even made complete sense since hugs were a must. 

It was your 3rd anniversary, you had everything planned. All that you asked of him was to show up at said place at said time. That’s quite literally it. You had been planning this for months, even going as far as talking his manager into giving him one weekend off… just one. You also asked him what you could do to make his life just slightly easier. 

Now here you are… alone… at said place at said time. Texting. Calling. No answer. 10 minutes turned into 20 minutes, 20 to 40, 40 to an hour and a half. You sit here on the verge of tears, calling the only person you could. 

“Hey Y/N why are you calling? Is everything okay?” Minho asked. 

“He never showed,” You started crying as you mindlessly picked the petals off of the roses on the table, staring at the card you had gotten him. 

“He’s your husband, what do you mean he didn’t show?!” He yelled. 

You heard in the background, “WHAT?!” there was no mistaking that voice, it was Changbin. 

Then you heard the phone being snatched. 

“Y/N where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

You gave him the address as you tried your best to breathe. You had taken a cab here and nothing is more awkward than breaking down in the back of an Uber. About 20 minutes later you heard Bin behind you. 

“Y/N?” He asked so gently like you’d break… But you already have.

You looked at him, not knowing what to say. “Your best friend’s been lying to me?”... No. You elected to just say, “I don’t know where to go.” because it’s true. You had no clue where to go. 

Binnie smiled at you. A sad, empathetic, whisper of a smile as he said “Let’s start with home, yeah?” He asked. 

You nodded, grabbed the card off of the table, and off you went. 

You had asked the guys to give you guys alone time in the dorm, so everyone was scattered through the city. Bin just happened to be at the Danceracha house when you called. 

You had no clue, but before Bin had even gotten in his car to get you. He texted everyone to meet at the 3Racha house, but NOT to go in before Bin made it to the house with you. He could tell by the look on your face that something was very wrong, and you’d need all of the support you could get. 

When everyone was there, you unlocked the door and Bin was the first to go in. Immediately his jaw dropped as he hung his head. When you came in you heard it.

Moaning… loud moaning. You looked at the floor near the front door, seeing a pair of heels you didn’t recognize. You welcomed the boys in with a pointer finger to your lips. Everyone quietly came in as you toed off your heels, eventually sitting on the couch.

You as well as the boys heard everything… The “I love you” s, the “Feel so much better than her” and finally the nail in the coffin, “I can’t wait to leave her.”

Everyone’s jaws were on the floor at what he was saying and at your reaction to them. You just stared at the wedding photo hanging on the mantle. The thought of losing the boys paralyzing you with fear. 

He continued, “never wanted her…only you… always you,” then, “m’close Baby.” You couldn’t even look at the boys. It wasn’t embarrassing, after all, you aren’t the one cheating on your husband with someone while he’s waiting to celebrate your anniversary.

You couldn’t look because of the overwhelming sadness. It was numbing, aching, sadness.

Another thing you could say is that you should’ve seen it coming. Some of his most popular songs have lyrics about someone else catching his eye.

You can hear his moans getting louder, that's a sign that he’s close so you put the card down, get up, and walk down the hallway. You look at the door that used to mean serenity and happiness, now colored a nauseating dark and gloomy gray.

You open the door and walk in. You see them, your husband and your best friend, writhing around on the bed as they both reach their highs together. You couldn’t find it in you to cry. Not even a little. 

Finally, your husband rolled off of her, giggling and enjoying the high.

The only one who noticed you were there was your best friend, Soo, who has been your friend since you moved here 6 years ago, so you could be closer to the boys. When she saw you, her face turned ghost-white… 

You just put your wedding band on the dresser drawer.

“Fuck you’re so much better than her.” he breathed out… When she didn’t respond, he opened his eyes. The pure chocolate orbs scanned you and wished, just like you, that this was a nightmare.

“Y/N/N” he breathed, you could see the weight on his shoulders as he threw his head back onto the pillow, putting his hands to his face, knowing that he was caught.

“Soo… you have 3 minutes to get dressed and to get the FUCK out of MY HOUSE…” You gritted your teeth as you threw her clothing at her.

As soon as she left you turned your full attention to your husband.

You calmly started changing clothes, taking off the skin-tight black dress that you knew would do something to him (Well thought you knew, rather). You didn’t face him as you changed, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing your body. Halfway through pulling down the dress you grabbed a big sweatshirt and put it on, so when the rest of the dress slid off, He’d never see a thing. You put on sweatpants afterward. 

In your mind, you already know. The last time he will ever see your body was 3 days ago. When you both took a shower together. 

During all of this, he was frozen. You see, when your relationship started you told him, you don’t tolerate cheaters. He knows that and that you are pissed, and rightfully so, but he is also terrified of losing you. As a matter of fact, at this point, that is the only thing he is thinking about. He can’t lose you.

After you changed you started with, “How long?”

“Y/N/N I..”

“HOW LONG?” You barked. Your voice taking a stern and powerful tone.

“Physically, 2 months. Emotionally, almost a year.” His face fell.

“Do you remember what today is?” 

“What?”

“Do you remember what today is?” you asked in a docile tone as you took off your earrings, ones he had gotten for your first anniversary. 

He checked his phone and cursed under his breath, “Baby I--”

That was when you lost it, “YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT! NOT AFTER YOU SAID IT OVER AND OVER TO HER WHILE YOU WERE FUCKING HER IN OUR BED! IN OUR HOME!”

You tried to stop it from boiling over, but you couldn’t help it when visceral sobs left your throat. You grabbed a duffel bag out of the corner of the room, trying to do your best not to completely collapse. 

“Y/N, what are you doing, talk to me.” He finally got up and put some sweats on. “I know you’re hurting.”

You yelled, “This is beyond hurt!…”, Then your voice cracked as your volume plummeted, sounding and looking so small as you continued, “You have no fucking idea what you just did.”

You started hyperventilating at the gravity of his shitty decisions and the effect it will have on your life. You needed to get away from him. You stumbled out of the room and into the hallway. You couldn’t even call out to Hannie, too close to passing out from hyperventilation. 

Hannie’s ears perked up, your raspy and rapid breathing meant that you were hyperventilating. The next second he’s running to you. 

“Hey hey hey Y/N/N. You need to breathe honey, come with me.” He immediately supported your body, halting all possibility of you diving face first into the floor if you do pass out. Then he essentially dragged you back to where you were sitting. 

You grabbed the card and held it to your chest as Han kneeled in between your legs. He was trying to get you to focus on your breathing and to focus on him, to ground yourself.

As much as you wanted to focus on Han, you couldn’t help but look at that damn photo on the mantle. You wanted that photo so badly to be true again.  You couldn’t help the sobs that came out of your mouth as you hugged the card to yourself. 

When your husband, Chan, finally made his way to the living room he saw everyone there and his face turned nearly colorless. Everyone stared at him except for Han and Bin, who were worried about you more than anything. 

“You don’t understand” and “he doesn’t understand” were all you could repeat as you wept. Rocking back and forth, because no one really could understand, the gravity of what he has been doing. 

Bin tried getting through to you by saying, “Help us understand Y/N/N.” You handed him the card as you continued sobbing, consumed by the sheer pain of what Chan’s done. 

Bin opened the card and his face went from confusion to rage-filled, his features reminding Han of hardened steel. Unwavering, strong, and in this case, pissed off. 

Bin tried to sound as calm as he could, for your sake, as he said, “Hannie, put together an overnight bag for Y/N, don’t forget anything. Innah, take her to my car… she needs to calm down if not we have to go to the hospital.”

As soon as he heard the car door slam, he went off.

“You know out of all of the people I could ever conceive doing this, you would be the last of them!”

“Bin” Chan tried to say something but Changbin cut him off.

“NO! YOU DON’T GET A SAY HERE, CHRIS! YOU FUCKED UP ROYALLY AND NOW YOU DESTROYED YOUR FAMILY!” Bin was visibly shaking with rage as he walked up to Chan. Tears were starting to form in his eyes.

LeeKnow looked visibly confused as he looked to Bin, “What are you talking about?”

Bin threw the content of the card at Chan’s feet. 

Chan looked at what the card had in it, it was unmistakable.

Bin sounded broken as he responded, “Y/N is pregnant.”.

_______________________________________________________

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[tange-my-rine]

borrow some sugar || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: You were living in the city, on your own. It was your dream though, you'd known it was far from home but you needed the space. Well, wanted the space. Didn't mean it wasn't lonely. The one time you actually met your neighbor, of course, you put your literal whole life in danger.

TW: blood, guns, murder, threats, cursing (it's Tangerine), protective!Tangerine (eventually), kidnapping, threats, and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: love a good normal person × Tangerine, and this is the epitome of that. Except you get way too wrapped up in it.]]

"Yeah, I know," you echoed out, fetching your keys out of your pocket -mindlessly walking through the hallway, "-I'm always safe, you know that."

Pressing your phone onto your shoulder, you heard a sort of bang -a heavy thud really, on the wall.

You furrowed your brows, the neighbor on that side was usually quiet. Like unusually quiet. You'd seen him, maybe once or twice in the hallway -he'd never said a word to you. Always wearing a suit and a super serious face, you'd assumed he was some sort of corporate worker with insane hours.

"Look," you spoke, unlocking your handle, "-I have to go, but I'll call you back tomorrow. I'm home already."

Slipping into your apartment, you sighed, pushing your phone into your pocket, dropping your keys, and taking off your shoes by the door. With the familiar thrum of your fridge, you mindlessly wander up to your couch and drop your bag.

It had been a terrible day at work, your boss was... well, your boss. And your work was exhausting, your feet hurt and your brain was working on the migraine of the century-

You just wanted to eat and watch your comfort TV show and turn your brain off -for an hour, at least. If not for the last few hours before you went to sleep, that was dream case scenario. Finally, when your brain was succumbing to the buzz of the voices, your eyes drifting shut, and the couch seemed so fluffy, there was a noise.

At first, you ignored it -figured it was your brain or something out in the hallway.

But then, it came back -a clear, harsh knock.

'2:30 am,' flashed across your screen as you looked at it, and then again, seriously, you thought you imagined it. Because who would that be?

You were fully awake now, leaning up on your couch, staring at your door -waiting, testing if it was real.

Knock.

Huh, you stood up -wiping at your eyes, and slowly slinking to the door.

"Hello?"

You don't know what you expected, but it certainly wasn't what you saw.

It was your neighbor, sweaty with ripped clothes (a suit, you think) -was he ever in anything else? His eyes were lidded, nose bleeding, it stained his mustache, and you were pretty sure there was a knife in his shoulder-

"You 'ave any first aid?" He had an accent, a crazy accent that somehow suited him but you didn't expect at all.

"Are you-" you were in disbelief, "-Are you okay?"

He paused, before retorting -frankly, "Did you hear a fuckin' word I said, love?"

"Sorry, sorry," you swallowed, beckoning him inside, "-I think I have one in my bathroom. Just- Just sit at the counter."

"Right, thanks."

You weren't even sure your feet were touching the ground at this point, but still, you were quick -sifting through your cabinets.

A man is bleeding out in my kitchen, your brain panged, -a man is bleeding out in my kitchen.

Blinking, you mindlessly -in an entirely different way now- but directly made your way to the kitchen. A kit in your hand, you pinched yourself for a moment -this would be one weird fucking dream.

As you said, the man sat on a stool -blood dripping down onto your tile. You briskly wondered how to get that out, before sliding all the supplies across the countertop -the clatter filling the quiet air.

Pulling yourself onto the stool opposite him, you licked across your lips -fidgeting with some packaging.

"You couldn't just borrow some sugar?" you mumbled, taking out an alcohol wipe.

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows, frown still present on his lips -it seemed like it stayed there.

"This-" you motioned to him, "-is the first time we've met. You couldn't do a normal neighbor thing? Like borrow sugar-"

"Sorry, love," he rolled his eyes, "-I'll think of it fuckin' next time, yeah?"

"You should," you scoffed, "-I don't think every neighbor would appreciate bloodstains."

"And you do?"

"No," you stressed out, dabbing at a cut along his cheek -not the worst one but the first one you could handle right now, "-I am barely awake right now, and I'm half convinced you aren't even real-"

"Very real," he tsked, less biting this time.

You digested that information, swallowing dryly. A man, in some business, was on your stool, bleeding.

"Honest question," You pursed your lips, before focusing on another cut above his eyebrow. You were blatantly ignoring the knife, you literally had no idea-

"Go ahead," he huffed out, breaths puffing out of his chest.

"How the hell did you get stabbed?"

The man paused, thinking over his answer (why did he have to think?), "Break-in?"

You raised an eyebrow, tossing out the wipe, "You sure about that answer?"

"Better if ya didn't know, love," he mended -blue eyes slinking over your kitchen.

You hummed, picking through the material -thank god you took that sewing class, "Kind of expected that, mysterious suited neighbor."

"Tangerine."

You flicked up your eyes, confused, "Is that... Is that your safeword, or...?"

"Fuckin' hell," he sighed, using a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, "-'s my name."

"Your name?" you questioned, tone raising.

"My brother-" he began before shaking his head -solidly, "-Doesn't fuckin matter, are ya gonna get to the knife wound or?"

"Listen," you spoke -a little pressed, "-I'm not one to stitch up wounds, Tangerine. I have to remember my sewing class-"

"You gonna stitch up my fuckin' shirt then, love?"

"Oh my god," you exhaled through your nose, "-no wonder you had to come to a stranger."

He opened his mouth -eager to bite back, but you promptly interrupted him.

"I have no experience," you said, taking the knife handle into your hand, "-but I'm pretty sure this is going to hurt like hell."

"Lucky for you, love," he spoke through labored breaths -wrapping his fingers around yours, "-I'm very fuckin' experienced."

And then without hesitation, he tugged it out.

The next few moments were bloody and unreal to you -your hands working quickly but your brain significantly falling behind. You could cross 'stitching up a wound on a handsome man' off your bucket list if it was ever even on there.

Now, you sat on the stool -hands sticky red, and your shirt (one of your better pjs, sadly) stained just the same. With a roll of bandages, you wrapped his shoulder with tedious little movements -eyes focused only on the skin. Only looking up when you'd tied it off, mind finally settling.

"Is that everything?" You asked, careful to not put your hands anywhere except your shirt.

"Yeah," he spoke, softer, "-just some bruisin', I think."

"Let me get you some peas," you echoed, sliding down from your stool -steps slow, you were just tired.

He didn't speak a word, as you dug through your freezer -finding one at the very bottom, of course.

You extended your hand, the cold sensation keeping you up -aware. Right now, your brain was in overdrive, probably ever since he'd shown up at your door, and your body merely just followed behind.

He shifted, grabbing it from you -you saw a kiss of a tattoo that you were curious about but not enough to ask. Your eyes sunk along his shirt, which was not a shirt anymore, all bloodstained and ripped up.

Before you could stop it, you were asking, "Do you need new clothes?"

Tangerine paused, looking at you like you grew a third head. You were past that point, you had his literal blood on your hands -there was no need to be shy now.

"'Had a boyfriend about your build," you clarified, "-I never gave him back like 10 shirts, so-"

"10?" He interrupted and you thought you might've seen a smile quirk onto his lips.

"He smelled good," you offered, before spinning to the kitchen and proceeding to scrub your hands with no hesitation, "-You want one or not?"

"Yeah," he sighed out, a little awkwardly, "-Yeah, thanks."

"While I'm at it," you spoke over your shoulder, "-do you need a place to stay?"

He pursed his lips, hand pushed into the peas against his ribs -you imagined it would be a big bruise in the morning.

"I'm pretty sure whatever happened," you emphasized, "-left a mess. I have a couch if you need it."

"Bein' awfully fuckin' nice to a stranger," he hummed, eyes tired.

"I figured you would've killed me way earlier," you remarked, finally drying them on a nearby towel, "'Had some good opportunities."

He smiled then, you actually saw it with your own two eyes -you almost thought you were hallucinating. His head tilting back, as his shoulder pressed against your counter -he looked kind of like a painting, all twisted angles and sharp jaw.

"What's yours?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "My what?"

"Your name, love," he answered, soft and attentive -much different than before (you kind of thought he might've lost too much blood).

"You wanna know that now?" You laughed, but even still you told him -there was something about him that made you feel at ease. He really shouldn't have.

He stayed that night, cozied up in your ex-boyfriend's shirt (which he looked surprisingly good in) and freshly showered. You didn't see him when you woke up that morning, and you didn't know why you had expected it.

A few weeks go by, and you were pretty sure that he moved out. Which, in retrospect, made sense, even still something in you felt kinda disappointed. He was the first person you'd actually talked to in months.

Coworkers didn't count.

You shook your head, he was literally covered in blood. In a business he couldn't talk about, and you missed him? You were officially losing your mind.

"Stupid," you muttered, eyes dipping across the TV -some sort of cheesy romcom that you'd never seen before in your life but still felt nostalgic to watch. It wasn't the worst thing you'd ever seen.

Good enough to sit and eat your favorite meal to, it was interesting enough to keep you awake.

When you finally slinked off to bed, and tossed into your fluffy comforter and soft pillows, you were exhausted. Far too exhausted to stay awake any longer. So, you didn't.

The sun was creeping through your window when you woke up, but not a morning sun -a too early sun. You groaned, looking to your phone and seeing without a doubt, it was 4:15 am. At first, you didn't know why you'd woken up so early but then you heard it.

A knock.

Initially, you were not going to move because it was warm here and you were tired.

But then you thought about if it was him, and if in the morning you'd see him dead on your doorstep. That would be suspicious, and you'd probably end up in jail-

You sighed, pulling yourself out of the bed and pattering to the door. And when you swung it open, you were met with familiar blue eyes.

Before you could stop it, you asked, "Don't you have any friends?"

He barked out a laugh -chuckle really, but something in him seemed nervous (like he wasn't sure if he should have come), "Lovely to see you too, love."

"Right," you agreed, before shuffling to the side and letting him in. He relaxed ever-so-slightly.

The first thing you noticed was a split on his forehead, just a cut -it wouldn't need any stitches (thank god, these pajamas were your favorite), and then you dipped to his clothes which were actually in tack. It was a blue suit, really complimented his eyes, and you wondered distantly if he did that on purpose. He seemed the type.

His pants though were dirty, and you could see him limping -only slightly. He was definitely not in as bad as shape as before though; you really wondered why he was here.

"Sit," you motioned to the stool and disappeared into your bathroom.

You got much of the same things and climbed onto the stool beside him, eyes sweeping across his face. Now that you were closer, you could see little cuts along his skin -teeny tiny.

"Glass bottle," he offered before you could say anything.

You hummed, nonchalantly, "Coulda guessed."

Your brain was numb at the moment, still sleepy and you once again thought this might've been a hallucination. He was handsome after all, and you did daydream about handsome men so it definitely could be. And you guessed you could have a saviour thing-

You stopped your train of thought, interrupting the silence as you dabbed at his forehead, "You know I'm not a doctor, right?"

He spoke, frankly, "You talked about a sewing class when you needed to stitch up my bloody fuckin' knife wound, love."

You nodded, fair point, before continuing, "Then why are you here?"

Tangerine paused, and you thought distantly he didn't have an answer, until he answered, "'Hard to do myself."

You thought for a moment, before replying, "What about your brother?"

"Not in the fuckin' country," he answered simply -something frustrated in his tone. But then again, when wasn't there?

"Hmm," you hummed, before rubbing the rest of the tiny cuts -he hissed slightly, "-different job?"

"No," he exhaled, "-just a different... mission."

"'Make it sound like you're a super spy," you laughed, "-but Tangerine isn't a very cool codename."

"Fuck you."

"You are such a joy," you remarked, debating bandaging the top cut, "-Are bandaids too baby for you?"

"Plasters?" He asked.

British, right, you nodded -waving one in your fingers, "Yeah, I think it's all I've got for your wounds. Well, unless you want it wrapped around your head-"

"'s fine," he muttered -low but you still caught it.

"Good," you assured, sticking one to his skin -fingers fluttering along his skin (when was the last time you touched someone?).

"Alright," you leaned back, gathering up your supplies -promptly ignoring the thought, "-all done here. Your leg-"

"Bruised ankle," he clarified -explaining the limp.

"Oh," you spoke, "-I'll get the peas again."

Your eyes dipped to his pants, covered in... something (maybe a mix of blood and dirt?), "And a pair of pants."

He didn't say a word, merely staying seated, as you grabbed the peas -sliding them across your counter. Before stalling slightly, asking-

"Do you even still live here?"

He pressed his lips together, apparently debating telling you -which you were slightly offended by, "No."

"So you're staying?" You asked, neutrally.

"Don't 'ave to," he spoke -not combative, and you really thought you were hallucinating then.

You tilted your head, confused, "You can stay, didn't I say that before?"

He nodded, still so wordless, and you were honestly the most confused you ever could be. Tangerine was quieter, softer, and it was nothing like the time before; he even seemed grateful.

"Honest question," you started.

"Yeah, love?"

"Are you okay?" You decided, careful wording with eye contact strong. You two were kind of close, he left his life in your hands -it was strangely intimate. Your relationship was very confusing, but it felt right to ask.

"Yeah," he answered -furrowing his brows, "-these wounds are fuckin' nothing, love. I have been far, far closer to death."

"No, I mean-" you clarified, "-like mentally. You're being too nice."

He raised his eyebrows, "Too nice?"

"Yeah," you stressed like it was obvious, "-you are like grateful and shit. You've barely cussed at me."

"You saved my fuckin' life, love," he questioned, "-shouldn't I be kind for 'at?"

"You should," you agreed, before contradicting, "-but you don't."

He was quiet then, eyes not meeting yours as his fingers tapped against your counter -seemingly running things over in his mind. It was awhile that he was doing that, but you patiently waited. You suspected opening up at all wasn't his forte.

Finally, still looking around your living room, he mumbled, "'Needed to see someone."

You took him at his word -not dwelling because it really felt like he didn't want to, and the rest of the night was the same. He took the pants, slept on the couch, and was gone in the morning -even though he couldn't have slept more than a few hours.

It started happening pretty regularly after that. You'd fix him up, he'd talk, you'd talk, he'd stay over. You started loosening up, talking about your job, and your life -nothing super specific. He stayed clammed up about his job, but his personal life he did talk about -there wasn't much, but he did talk about his brother.

You felt like that was a big thing.

And then, after quite a few months between visits, you heard a knock at your door. Super late as always, you made your way to it -expectant and in routine. This time though, there were two of them: a familiar Tangerine, and a man with bleached tips and a surprisingly big smile.

"Hello," he smiled and it was very odd -Tangerine hardly smiled, "-lovely to meet ya, I'm Lemon."

You could assume from the name, even still, you felt a little out of place, "Nice to meet you."

"Brother," Tangerine motioned to him -frustration nearly radiating off of him, as he made his way inside.

"Rude," Lemon spoke, "-can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course," you exhaled, letting him in.

Tangerine was relatively well -bruised knuckles, a busted lip, and a mild slice on his collarbone. Lemon was even better with just a black eye, atleast on the surface.

Instead of on the stool, Tangerine beelined straight to the bathroom -slamming the door.

You pursed your lips, turning to Lemon for answers, "What the hell is wrong with him?"

"Annoyed 'im into takin' me 'ere," he answered simply, "-'Wanted to meet who my brother was talkin' about."

He talks about me, you thought for a moment -you fully believed that you were a little miniature part of his life, not something he'd talk about. Especially to his brother.

He must've seen your confusion, because he continued.

"Oh, he never shuts up, love," he laughed, "-'Feel like I already fuckin' know ya."

"Huh," you responded, puzzled.

You thought about it for a second, running over the idea in your mind. What did he have to talk about? Your life? Your boring job, your lack of love life, your favorite cheesy movies? He told that to his brother? His brother with the same unbelievable life?

Why the hell would he do that?

"Please, sit on my couch," you finally spoke, wandering towards the kitchen with intent, "-I'll get you something cold for your eye. And then, I'll deal with the tantrum."

"Thanks," Lemon smiled, tottering off to your TV and without hesitation, popping it on.

He really was very comfortable for not knowing you. How much had Tangerine said?

You stepped into the living room, offering the same peas to Lemon (did you even like peas?) that you often gave Tangerine. He smiled gratefully.

"Do you need any like Tylenol?" You asked, further -eyes swiftly drifting over his eye, it was a nasty sort of yellow, "-that one is a shiner."

"So nice," Lemon hummed, "-no wonder my brother was hoggin' ya. But, I'll be alright, 'ave had worse."

You nodded, before slowly making your way toward the bathroom. Raising your hand, you gently knocked -nothing compared to his on your door in ungodly hours of the morning.

"Tangerine?" You offered.

The door slid open, and your eyes swam over him -taking in his wounds that you had before like in confirmation. He really wasn't hurt bad, not like other times.

Turns out, you didn't care and still wanted to help.

He was leaning against the counter fidgeting with his hands -you think there was blood on his rings. You spoke before you could think about it.

"You want me to wash those?"

He quirked an eyebrow, "What?"

“Your rings,” you clarified, mentally cursing yourself, “-or… do you need help with your wounds?”

He seems to think about it for a moment, eyes dashing across his knuckles -his rings, really. You only watched him for a few moments, half convinced you had dreamt this all up, that maybe he didn’t even exist. Maybe he was a figment of your imagination, he was certainly handsome enough. And his name was Tangerine. This could definitely all be a dream.

“Think I can do the rings myself, love,” he laughed a little -you still weren’t used to that sound, “-and the wounds aren’t ‘at bad.”

You looked at him for a moment, peering along the busted lip and the slice on his collarbone, “You sure? It’s kind of all I do, is it not?”

He smiled, mustache quirking up, “If it makes you feel better, you can clean the cut. But really, love, I’m fine.”

You pursed your lips, taking in his breaths that swirled with yours -the bathroom was small, “I’ll just get you some ice for your knuckles. But if you die from infection, it’s not on me.”

He really laughed at the one, as you spun on your feet back to the kitchen -digging out some other frozen food you hadn’t gotten around to eating yet. With a solid motion, you extended it forward (it was maybe tater tots?), offering it to Tangerine.

“Sorry it’s not the peas,” you spoke, pointing to Lemon -who at the time seemed to be half asleep on the couch, “-your brother stole those.”

“The fuckin’ twat,” he hissed out, a little too personally -you thought it was probably about something far bigger than your frozen peas. He could definitely be that petty though. So, it was possible.

"Woah, somebody's pissy today. Bad day?"

Tangerine seemed to pause, eyes swimming over you -like he was committing you to memory, you briefly wondered why.

"Yeah," he said, solidly -not elaborating. You knew better than to expect him to.

"Well," you spoke, a little awkwardly -not sure where to go, "-I've got... icecream?"

He looked at you like you were insane, but then again, when wasn't he? You said a lot of things without a filter in front of him. Handsome men, what could you say?

"Like..." you clarified, clearing your throat, "-to eat."

"Yeah, love, I fuckin' got 'at part. Why the hell would I want icecream?"

There it was. Tangerine in his true form.

You opened your mouth to respond, but someone else cut you to the chase.

"Sorry," Lemon perked up, "-did you say icecream? Because 'at would be really lovely with this movie, a great pair-"

"Yeah," you turned to him -his presence was a lot warmer (why was his name Lemon?), "-I've only got one flavor, but..."

"Fine with me," Lemon responded, with a big smile, "-brother, are you gettin' any?"

Tangerine huffed out of his nose, genuinely frustrated apparently -much different than a moment ago. What was he even angry about? There was nothing-

"No," he spoke through a snarl.

"Ouch," Lemon put his hands on his heart, replying flatly, "-really hurts, mate. Not used to your shitty behavior at all."

You decidedly left the room (not really it was all open concept), waltzing toward your kitchen with a focus in mind. As you were digging around, trying to find the pint you'd hidden from yourself, you were interrupted.

"Do you..." you turned at his voice, Tangerine, he didn't look very certain of his words, "-Do you need any help, love?"

"Help?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow, "-With icecream?"

"Well," he was suddenly very grumpy -probably embarrassed, "-you help me all the fuckin' time, so I just thought- Excuse me for fuckin' offering."

"You..." you started, standing and now facing him, "-You were going to repay me for saving your life, by helping me with icecream?"

"'S hardly saving my life," he grumbled, under his breath -you still heard it.

"You had a knife-" you motioned harshly to stress the word, "-in your shoulder the first time we met."

"Not deadly," he retorted, a bit pompous.

You rolled your eyes, "Look, give me the benefit of the doubt-"

Tangerine quickly said -almost on instinct, "I certainly will fuckin' not."

"-let's call it even," you continued, ignoring his remark, "-I save your life, you save mine."

"That's..." he started, "-That's makin' it even?"

"Well, yeah," you tilted your head, "-a life for a life."

He furrowed his eyebrows, you took it as him not understanding.

"Let's say that I'm getting chased down an alley," you clarified, before interjecting, "-Ooh wait, or maybe I'm getting robbed-"

"Are you fuckin' excited at the idea of gettin' robbed, love?"

"No," you quickly mended, "-it's just a better story. Plus, that's not relevant-"

His lips quirked up into a little smile.

"-What I'm saying is," you started, "-If I'm in trouble, you have to save me. To make it even."

"And how am I supposed to know when you're in trouble, then?"

You paused, pursing your lips -good point, "Uh, I don't know. Do you guys have like a bat signal? Like I hold up a fruit stand sign to the light-"

"Very funny," Tangerine interrupted -flatly, "-Look, just take my phone number, yeah? If you're ever in trouble, you can ring me like a fuckin' normal person."

"You're one to talk," you responded, before furrowing your eyebrows, "-Wait, you guys have phones?"

"Yeah," Tangerine stressed, "-who do you think we are?"

"Well, I don't know," you explained, "-don't phones have trackers? Won't that out you guys? When you're on... jobs?"

"Burners," Lemon quickly clarified, "-well, kind of. 'S on a secret network, basically."

"So," you started, processing, "-you want to give me your secret phone number?"

Tangerine hummed, realizing but seeming to settle, "Well, it's not like you've given me a reason to not trust you, love. Should I not?"

"True," you responded, "-I have not snitched on you. Even with... all the blood, and the knife, and the job you won't talk about-"

"We get it, love," he groaned out, "-just give me your fuckin' phone, yeah?"

You without hesitation gave it to him, he seemed to quickly put your phone number in his, and then his in yours -handing it back to you open on the contact. With a smile, you made his name the tangerine emoji.

"You put me as the damn emoji, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah," you laughed out, pocketing your phone in one fellow swoop.

You ended up seeing them both a few more times after that with varying injuries. (Once Lemon had a broken nose, and Tangerine had a broken finger. No more knives, thankfully.)

They were starting to be familiar to you -friends even. Despite not telling you about their job, you had gotten to know them well; you hate to brag but you were pretty good at settling their arguments. It made you integral to their dynamic.

You probably should've known one day you helping them stay alive would come back and bite you in the ass.

See, if you were asked, you'd probably assume they had many enemies. They were, at least, fighting people on a daily basis -you don't do that if your job is a positive one. And fighting people, almost regularly, is a surefire way of saying 'somebody hates me'. They probably had an enemy in every other city, if you were realistic.

You don't know why you hadn't thought of that.

That day, it was just a normal one. You worked until the sun went down, and then went home. Or you were supposed to.

Your shift at work was long and exhausting and you kind of wished your bed was right in front of you -so, to be honest, you weren't in your most aware state. It was always dangerous walking the streets tired, you knew this, so you usually had someone walk home with you. This night, in particular, was a lone shift (hell on earth) with a manager you didn't like, so you didn't ask.

And maybe that was stupid of you, but you doubted they would say yes.

Your feet pattered along the sidewalk, street lamps fading in and out of your view. Every few steps it'd get dark and then light again; to be honest, you were too tired to feel scared when it was dark.

And then, right as you stepped into the light, you heard the screech of car breaks (which you were kind of used to) and then suddenly there were hands all over you. Gloved hands, black-gloved hands.

Before you could say a word, you were thrown into the back of a van -no seats by the way, and enveloped in darkness.

It took you a minute to adjust, head spinning and hands shaking against the cold metal underneath you. It kind of felt like when you met Tangerine for the first time, like you weren't really there. Like you were experiencing something so bizarre, it couldn't be real-

Shit, you thought to yourself, Tangerine.

You patted yourself, ruffling over your pockets -trying to find your phone. It was dark and you couldn't even see. You guessed that was why, your phone went clattering onto the metal, away from your hand -loud.

There was something in you that hoped that these guys were stupid. That they'd look over the noise and ignore you until they took you wherever the hell they were taking you.

You weren't that lucky.

The van was distinctly pulled over, tires even scraping along the bumpy texture. And within minutes, the door to the van was flung open.

They were just a shadowy figure, light framing them so you couldn't see any of his features at all. He was just a shadow. You didn't know if that made him any scarier.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" His voice was low and gruff -like a smoker.

"I didn't-" you started, trying to avoid your phone -it was shadowed in the dark. You doubted he could see it-

And then his eyes flicked directly to it.

You literally could not have had a worse day.

Instead of reaching for it, he eyed for you to instead. And for a second, you thought he might've been trying to help you. That was wrong.

With your phone in your hand, the man promptly put a gun to your head. From a distance, yeah, but still trained directly into the center of your forehead. Was he going to kill you? Just like that?

This was suddenly very real, you swallowed back tears and nearly dropped your phone -trying to raise your hands up.

"Please," you begged, slowly and shaky but clear enough for them to hear.

"Shut up," he hissed out, "-listen. Take your phone, and call 'em."

"C-Call who?"

"Don't play dumb with me," the man echoed out, and you heard the click of the trigger pulling back -dear god, "-we know you're close to the twins, we've been watchin' your place for months."

"Okay, okay-" you breathed out, it felt like your lungs were full like you were suffocating-

Tears burned at the backs of your eyes, as your fingers, shaking, scrolled around the contacts app -he hadn't texted you or anything so all you had was his contact. Only for emergencies, he'd said.

You almost wanted to scare him once, but the idea felt so very stupid now.

Clicking call, the man nudged your hand, speaking lowly, "Put it on fucking speaker, now."

You dutifully did so, even if it took a few tries to hit the button -your hands were shaking enough to blur the screen. Your head was spinning, and the only thing your could feel was the cold metal beneath your legs.

Why did you ever think this was a good idea? To get caught up with... with bloody men who had a mysterious job?

You were moving back home if you made it out alive -the city wasn't worth this.

"'Ello?" His voice was spent, and you could hear the raggedy breaths puffing out of his chest -somehow hearing his voice calmed you just a second.

The man nudged you again, so you spoke, "Tangerine?"

He must have not been paying attention, because your shaky whisper -wet from your tears, you were crying, went relatively unnoticed.

"Little busy at the mo-" you heard a solid hit and what sounded like a crack, "-ment, you sure this is important, love?"

The man kept his eyes laser-focused on you, you took it as a sign to keep talking.

"T-Tangerine," you repeated, more inflection -the shake in your voice unavoidable.

The noise on the phone, suddenly got very quiet -you heard him mumble something to Lemon 'you got 'im?' before seeming to pull his full attention to you, "Everything okay, love? You sound... Is somethin' wrong?"

The man looked at you, expectantly. You took it as to tell him what was happening, clenching your nails into your skin -it might bleed. The pain was distracting, even just for a moment.

"I-I'm," you tried, but your voice cracked, and your breath turned into a sob, "T-There's a man, he has a gun to my head, I don't- I don't know why-"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Tangerine spit out, something fierce in his voice, "Lemon-"

The man snatched the phone from your hand, voice low and in a growl, "Seems I got something you want, Tangerine. It's only fair."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Doesn't matter," the man deflected, "-all that matters is that I have your little nurse, and you have no idea where we are."

The van, suddenly without warning, started up again -swinging back onto the road. You braced yourself against the wall, mindlessly blinking -this isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real.

You could hear the pounding of his footsteps -rushed, like he was trying to get somewhere, "If you lay a hand on 'em, I will fuckin' rip you apart, piece by excruciating piece. Slow and fuckin' steady, for hours-"

"You say that as if you know where we are," the man responded, "-as if you have a chance of finding them in time."

In time? your brain chimed, and everything felt so far away now.

"I swear to fuckin' god-" he spit out, venomous, "-if you hurt 'em-"

"Yeah, yeah," the man retorted -confidence in his tone, "-I got that part, fruit."

You breathed out, swallowing back tears, and wiping your eyes so hard that you were seeing spots; maybe this was all a dream, maybe you had just fallen asleep at work-

"Hate to do this to you," the man echoed out, "-but we have to go. Let's hope we see each other later, for your sake."

Tangerine nearly yelled through the phone, but that didn't stop him from hanging up.

At the next stop, the man moved back to the front -taking your phone with him. You sat alone, in the back of a van, in complete darkness.

Would this be the last thing you ever see? Really?

It was just like you were in the city, so incredibly alone. At least you had a chance then, to remedy it. Now... Now you weren't even sure you'd be breathing in a few hours.

"Oh god," you breathed out a big exhale, a sob bubbling up your throat -you had so much left to do, "-oh god."

The van didn't stop for what felt like forever, bumpy roads and quick turns -they were speeding the whole time, and you had no idea how they weren't pulled over. But maybe it was because of the hour, it was fairly late.

The door swung open before you could think about anything else, two men rushing in and grabbing you by the shoulders -dragging you out.

"If you scream," you felt cold metal to your neck, "-you're dead."

"Aren't you going to kill me anyways?"

"Only if your friends," the other man retorted, "-don't behave."

They tied something around your eyes, leaving you completely in the dark -gloved hands squeezing your shoulders so tight, they were definitely going to bruise. Three sets of feet pattered along what sounded like concrete, as your mind went numb -the cold, bitter air filtering over your skin.

It was echoing now, after you heard the swing of some heavy doors opening -must have been a big place. Your mind was reeling, you felt like you weren't even really there.

Then, without a word, they threw you forward directly into a brick wall -seemingly latching a door behind you. Your head spun for a moment as you tried to reorient yourself -blindfold still on, as you pulled it off you felt a stickiness on your forehead.

Pulling your hand in front of your face, you realized it was blood. How hard did you hit your head?

Your fingers flitted across it again, and you hissed. Apparently very hard.

You tried to look at your hands, see how much blood, but it was all shadowed -the darkness didn't change much from what you saw in the blindfold.

Hands shaking, you leaned yourself against the wall -tears steadily making their way down your cheeks. You could cry now, freely, as you finally were brought back down to your body.

This was really happening. You were in some dingy old room, and there were men outside who wanted to kill you to get at someone else. You were expendable, a pawn.

Any moment, any feeling, and they could just kill you. You'd die here, and nobody would know what happened to you.

You'd be one of those news stories you couldn't believe.

The brick scratched against your head, but it was kind of numbed by your headache -pounding where you knew the split of skin to be. Or where you could've guessed it was anyway.

That couldn't mean anything good.

Your breaths were starting to hollow out, low and slow, your body coming back to the cold concrete floors. You were grappling with your helplessness, what the hell would you do? What could you do?

You were... you couldn't do anything. You were done. This was it, all that work for... for you to die in some dingy old room alone.

And then, you thought of something you hadn't thought to. Something you'd never let your mind dig into, not really, because at the time it seemed stupid.

Tangerine.

You'd always known there was something there, something bubbling under your skin. Even with everything, you still... there was something.

Something warm in your chest at the idea that he came to see you. That it wasn't just for the help anymore. And he was handsome, and he promised to save you and his eyes and his arms and his hands-

Before you could think about it for too long, something interrupted you.

Boom.

It made your ears sting, the noise bouncing along the walls -you flinched where you sat. Breath sudden in a gasp, you stilled. Almost like as if someone could see you, like you were hiding.

There was some shuffling outside, someone messing with the latch on the door -they were struggling. Maybe because their hands were shaking? They were trying to get in-

And then, right outside the door was an even louder-

Boom.

It makes your head sting, squeezing your eyes shut so hard that you see spots. You swallowed, trying to calm the pounding in your head, rubbing at your temples.

Gunshots, you recognized, suddenly, they were gunshots.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, they were right outside the door. With a gun. With a gun-

Before you could think of anything to say, the rattling at the door started again -the scratch of metal against metal. It sounded more frantic now, somehow, and your whole body froze. Maybe if you didn't move they wouldn't hear you?

The door swung open, light pouring in that made your eyes sting. The door pounding against the wall -loud and opposing.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you held your breath, staying completely still -hoping the shadow hid you against the walls. One hand covering your face, waiting until a figure steps into the room.

And when one did, cast in shadow, you sat very still. Watching their head twist around the room, back and forth -looking, searching.

You bit back a sob, let me live, let me live.

Then, they spoke.

"Love? Are you in 'ere?" He echoed out, "-Or was that fuckin' twat lyin'-"

"Tangerine," spilled out of your mouth as you rushed forward -wrapping your arms around him in a huff, "-holy shit, Tangerine-"

He stood frozen for a second, unfamiliar with the affection, you assumed. You inhaled a shaky breath in, the whiff of his cologne keeping you stable, there. You were safe-

His arms slowly met around you, unsure, but settling comfortably. Holding you for a second, just a second.

"Are you alright, love?" He pushed back a little bit -blue eyes scanning over you, "-Did he fuckin' lay a hand on you?"

"No, just-" you breathed out, pushing through the pain, "-he slammed me against the wall, I hit my head pretty hard, but that's-"

"Your head?" He asked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into the light, "-Come out 'ere, love, so I can see."

"It's not really-"

Tangerine let out a big sigh, turning back to you, "Let me help you, yeah?"

You pursed your lips, eyeing him for a moment -he was relatively unscathed, just a blood stain on his shirt and maybe some busted-up knuckles. His hair was still in place and his suit jacket uncreased, he felt composed -sturdy. Stable, really.

"Okay," you whispered out, letting him guide you out the door -you hissed at the little light you did see, almost instinctively squeezing your eyes shut.

"Sorry, love," he spoke, soft and gentle, "-can't control the sun for you."

"You could block it," you remarked, "-god made your shoulders insanely broad for a reason."

He laughed, moving in his place so less light shone on you -hands moving to hold your face (tilting the wound into the light), "You think my shoulders are broad, then?"

"Duh," you responded, something in your head woozy -you stumbled a little in place.

"Shit," he reacted, hands smoothing to your shoulders, holding you up, "-Can you 'ear me? Stay fuckin' awake, yeah?"

"Okay," you blinked heavily, trying to see him clearly.

When you did, he stood there eyes desperately searching yours -looking at you, concerned. They scattered all over you, settling on the split on your head for a bit too long -it was still pounding in your head, made you flinch a little.

"Do you think-" you started, "-Do you think I need a hospital?"

"No," Tangerine breathed out, fingers dusting along your wound, "-just need someone to watch ya overnight. And to clean you up a bit."

"Wouldn't..." you echoed, "-Wouldn't a hospital do that?"

Tangerine met your eyes, his lips quirking into a smile (just barely), "You think you're fuckin' funny, yeah?"

"I'm just making a point," you deflected.

"Just-" he sighed out, before connecting your eyes again, "-let me help you. I want to, yeah? I really fuckin' want to."

"Okay," you echoed out, relaxing into his touch -relaxing finally, "-fine."

"Good," he tsked, and without hesitation wrapped his fingers around your wrist, "-now, let's get out of 'ere, shall we?"

You did so, eyes squeezed shut tight because all the light did was hurt. But Tangerine soothed you, hand still on your wrist, ("Close your eyes if it hurts, love, I've got you.") and guided you along, even sitting you down in the car and pulling the seat belt along your body.

"You know I could do that myself, right?" You spoke, eyes squinted open -the car was much darker.

He didn't dignify you with a response, sliding into your side and shutting the door behind himself. He silently settled into the seat beside you, like the passenger seat was taken. Which it decidedly was not.

His blue eyes kept darting to you, and you could feel his leg pressed against yours.

"You know that I'm fine, Tangerine," you exhaled, looking to him, "-don't you?"

He didn't respond, so you continued.

"You looked at my wound, I'm alright-" you laughed a little, "-I can sit in the backseat by myself."

Tangerine seemed to think for a second, before speaking decidedly, "If you go to fuckin' sleep, love, you won't wake up. I'm 'ere to keep you awake."

You could feel his breath fan over your face, and you swallowed. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as your eyes stayed on his (blue, blue-). With another intake of breath, you snapped them away -eagerly looking out the window.

Well, you thought to yourself, you're doing a really good job, Tangerine.

The city blurred by, as it made way to more familiar silhouettes but not... not yours. Not ones near your home.

"Um," you spoke, particularly to Lemon (who was driving) "-are we not going... home?"

"You serious, love?" Tangerine offered, blue eyes decidedly matching yours.

"Are we not-"

Lemon interrupted -catching your eye in the mirror, "You were kidnapped, mate. Do you not remember 'at?"

"No, I do," you huffed out, eyes dashing between the two of them, "-they didn't get me at home though, they got me off the street."

"Doesn't mean anythin'," Tangerine countered, jaw twitching ever so slightly -he really didn't like talking about them, "-'Ey 'ave eyes on your home, 's how they made the connection to us."

"Tangerine-"

"He's got a point," Lemon responded, fingers tapping along the wheel, "-takes too much effort to prove 'im wrong, trust me."

"Lemon-"

"Why do you even want to go home, love?" Tangerine interrupted, eyebrows furrowed -genuine curiosity.

"Because it's my home," you reiterated, "-it's familiar. I know you guys may have forgotten the feeling, but it... it would make me feel a lot better to be home."

Tangerine sighed, a deep heavy sigh, "How about a compromise?"

You pursed your lips, eyes flickering across his face (god, was he pretty), "I'm listening."

"We stay at the hotel a few nights until they cool off," he offered, "-and then, you can go home."

You sighed out in relief.

"But," Tangerine clarified, "-me and Lemon need to stay with you for a while. There's not a fuckin' chance you're goin' alone after this. Especially so soon."

"What so-" you started, "-you guys are going to constantly be around me? I have work, and I... I need to get groceries-"

"We 'ave to be, love," Tangerine spoke in almost a whisper, soft, "-these people, they're not goin' to be as fuckin' nice next time. Lemon and I know 'at."

Right, you thought to yourself, mysterious jobs. They've probably done something like this before.

You involuntary shuddered, thinking about the darkness and the gun and your life-

Tangerine looked at you, eyes darting around your face -a slosh of concern sliding over his features, flickering in his eyes. It was no wonder those thoughts had come to the forefront of your mind, he was so protective of you. There's only so much you can resist feelings for someone who so very much values your life.

A handsome someone, your mind tsked.

Before he could open his mouth though, you turned your head back to the window. A familiar swirl bubbled into your stomach, you couldn't chance looking at him. Afterall, getting flustered with him was surely a dead giveaway and there was no way in hell Tangerine felt anything remotely the same.

And that was plain embarrassing.

You felt suddenly like you were in school again, and were crushing on a jock -that never even looked your way. It felt pretty hopeless, and even though it did, it didn't stop you from going to every game -just to pretend for a little while.

Was that what patching him up was? Your own sort of way to be close to him, to pretend for a moment that everything was different.

Shit, you thought, that is embarrassing.

Luckily, you severely doubted Tangerine would ever know. You were pretty good at keeping secrets. Hence, well, the whole reason you were even here in the first place -you regularly housed assassins.

It took only a few minutes after that (feeling blue eyes boring into your side the whole time) when Lemon pulled into a parking spot and you arrived at the hotel. Lucky for you, it was far from a dingy old place on the side of the road.

This place was way above your paygrade. You had never even dreamed of living such a luxury; all golden accents and marble floors. You hardly even knew this place existed in your city.

"I take it back," you whispered to Tangerine, as Lemon strode up to the front desk to request a room change, "-we can stay here forever."

You saw the woman point to you, clearly in concern and you suddenly remembered the wound on your head. Your fingers smoothed along it, and you grimaced, Lemon seemed to come up with some sort of explanation, though. And she promptly looked away.

Tangerine laughed at your words, a quiet little chuckle, and fell rather silent. You peered over at him, wondering why he hadn't said anything back; and when you did, he seemed to be stealing little looks at you -silently fidgeting with his rings.

You pursed your lips in thought for a moment, debating asking him about it.

Before you could, he opened his mouth to say something -eyes lingering on your face, like he was trying to memorize it (something in your chest fluttered), "Love, I-"

"Sorry, mates," Lemon interrupted, eyes dashing between the two of you for a moment, "-rooms are booked tonight. Lady says we can try again tomorrow but she doubts it'll 'ave changed."

"So," you swallowed, "-just two bedrooms?"

"Yep," Lemon popped the p, "-and hate to say it, but I'm gettin' one by myself. You lot can figure the rest of 'at out yourselves."

Something was gleaming there in his eye -something mischievous; you frowned -heartbeat stuttering in your chest.

Maybe there's a couch, your mind chimed -a little patheticly.

As fate would have it, there was. And an entire kitchen and living space -an expensive kitchen and living space. You were truly floored by this place.

"This is a hotel, right?" you questioned, eyes lingering on the high ceilings (you decidedly did not have those).

"For rich blokes," Lemon clarified, "-the kinds 'at hate to 'ave anythin' besides luxury."

You spun around, eyes darting between the two of them, "Like you two?"

Tangerine frowned, and Lemon snorted -disappearing off into the kitchen; leaving just you and Tangerine alone in the living space. That being said, each room was actually divided, with no open concept -just archways.

You slung yourself onto the couch, inelegantly (but when were you ever elegant) and were pleased to find it felt like clouds, "Why, if you could pay for this, did you ever come to my apartment? They probably have an on-staff nurse you could page, good god-"

"Eh," Tangerine mended, voice calm and confident, "-like the company better 'ere."

You smiled to yourself, small and quiet, heart fluttering in your chest. You are not making this easy, fruit man.

You cleared your throat, about to shift the subject because you frankly could not address the fondness in his eyes. Instead, Lemon came to your rescue with a smile.

"Well," he spoke, "-I'm fuckin' exhausted, I'm off to bed. If you need anythin', ask Tangerine."

And then, with that, he left -disappearing behind one of the doors down into the hallway.

"You can't sleep," Tangerine said suddenly, "-your head... We've got to get you to a doctor in the mornin', so they can look at it."

"Why not tonight?"

"I truly fuckin' doubt anyone of credit would be open this late," he explained, sauntering up to your side and sitting down (when he had the whole couch).

"Tangerine," you spoke, "-the emergency room doesn't just... close."

"I just," he sighed out, leaning back into the couch "-I want you safe for tonight, yeah?"

"I doubt they'd show up to a hospital," you reasoned, weighing your words.

Tangerine frowned.

"Look, I just-" you paused, "-you don't have to be on watch duty. You need sleep. Just take me to the ER, and I'll-"

He scoffed, repeating, "There's no fuckin' way you're going alone, love."

Swiping the keys off one of the tables near the door and shooting Lemon a text, he grabbed your hand and guided you outside.

The night was a surprisingly quick one, as you were taken into the ER and looked at. They quickly bandaged and stitched your wound, even sending you in to get your brain looked at. Tangerine was dutifully by your side, all night, even when they told you they'd rather keep an eye on you tonight. Something along the lines of what Tangerine said, keeping you awake.

He did, however, end up getting some sleep -slouched over in a hospital chair. One of those plastic ones that really could not be comfortable, and you knew his back would ache in the morning. But when you asked him to, he straight refused to leave ("No fuckin' way, love"); so, you were sort of glad he had gotten some sleep after all.

Then, the next morning, they set you on your way. Quickly reminding your husband (it was the only way Tangerine could stay overnight) of all the bandage changes and consistent eye he should keep on you; he seemed rather serious when listening -eyes intent, and almost as if he could, he would take out a notepad and write each thing down extensively.

You were touched, something in your chest swirling widely.

Was this how he felt when you took care of him?

Well, you sort of doubted so, because they were different circumstances. Despite the closeness and the fingertips on the skin, it was less protective and more domestic. Something very different in the closeness there, and the presence of him now.

Even now, as you leaned onto the couch, scrolling through channels -you felt his eyes solidly on you.

"Tangerine," you tsked, bandage smoothed across your head, "-I'm fine."

He blinked, as your eyes swam over his face and a pink dusted along his cheeks, "That's not what I- I was just... just lookin', love."

You furrowed your eyebrows, curious, tilting your head, "Why?"

Tangerine paused, blue eyes bubbling along your skin -like he was considering his answer, or maybe deciding on one. You thought for a second that he wasn't going to say anything -wordless, as always.

"Need to change your bandage," he deflected, getting up, grabbing some supplies, and roaming over to you on the couch.

You groaned, leaning your head back against the cushions -so soft and cloudlike that you almost couldn't stay frustrated, "We just did that."

"'At was yesterday, love," Tangerine hummed, smiling ever-so-slightly, "-the doctors said-"

"The doctors said," you mocked his accent, shaking your head with the words, "-spare me the speech this time, Tan."

He smirked, face so close to yours now (peeling the old one off, rough fingertips dusting along your forehead), "Fuckin' argumentative today, yeah?"

You swallowed, eyes darting between his -back and forth, responding shortly, "Maybe."

Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at the quickness of your response, dabbing at the wound quickly -cleaning it. He was gentle, with tiny little movements; it was hard to imagine these were the same hands that hurt others. He was so soft with your wound, why-

"You alright, love?"

He was a breath away, blue eyes (upon finishing the bandaging) matching yours, intensely. Tangerine just had an intense stare, like you simply held the world in your hands. It was like he didn't blink, even though you knew he did.

You swallowed, for a moment, eyes dashing along his face -it really was totally unfair. Your cheeks grew a little hot at the closeness, you saw his eyes dart to it -eyebrows furrowing together.

Good god, it really was like high-school again.

"What, yeah-" you laughed, awkwardly -eyes darting away from him, "-why would I not be?"

Tangerine hummed in thought for a second, and you could nearly hear the gears in his head turning, "Love... you're actin' really fuckin' odd right now."

You fidgeted with your fingers, watching them in your lap -you couldn't think straight right now. This was all new in your brain, and when was the last time you had feelings for someone-

"I'm not," you answered, finally -a bit like a toddler who was getting in trouble but the meaning all the same.

He sighed out a breath, seeming to settle on something and you could almost feel his eyeroll.

And without another second, you felt his fingers on your chin. Rough fingertips brushed against it, as he tilted you back to face him.

You blinked.

His blue eyes flickered along your face, slow and tedious, "You know you're safe with me, yeah?"

"Tangerine," you exhaled.

"I'd-" he started, eyes dipping away before coming back to yours -so genuine, "-I'd save you without the deal, you know 'at? Anytime, anywhere-"

"Tangerine, that's not-" you faltered, he was so broken open, vulnerable, to you right now. Something in your chest heavy, and your heart ready to spill on your tongue.

"I'd shoot 'im over and over again if it made ya feel safe, love," he continued, fingertip brushing along your skin like he was cradling your face, "-I'm sorry I ever let 'im put a fuckin' hand on you, you 'ave to know 'at."

"Tangerine," you sighed out, soft, "-That's not your fault."

"It is."

"Tangerine-"

"You're afraid now, aren't you?" He echoed out, a soft sort of whisper but filled with intent, "-How does 'at not mean I'm responsible? I never should've-"

"Tangerine!" You exclaimed, resorting to using your hands to cup his face -bringing him back down to earth, "-I'm not... afraid."

He paused.

"Well, yeah, I am, but it's not-" you tsked, before sighing, "-I know you'll keep me safe. I don't know how I know, I just... do."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "Then why-"

And then, as normal, your brain stopped functioning, words coming out before you could think them over, "You're very pretty."

He opened his mouth, a smirk smoothing onto his lips. You didn't let him continue.

"And I'm not immune to a pretty man caring about my well-being," you clarified, swallowing -somehow maintaining eye contact, "-I'm not... good at handling it."

"You're..." he started, a quirk of a smile on his lips (not that you were looking), "You're fuckin' flustered, love?"

"Mortifyingly embarrassed," you corrected, your voice squeaked out.

Tangerine laughed a little, "Ya sure you didn't hit your head too hard?"

"Ha ha, laugh it up, mustache," you responded, rolling your eyes -much more comfortable. The banter was easy.

"Well," he tsked, and you were suddenly very aware of how close his face is to yours, "-you apparently fuckin' like it, love. What's 'at say about you?"

You swallowed, "Didn't say it doesn't suit you."

"Hmm," he hummed, and there was a flicker of something in his eye -mischievous, "-guess not."

"Nope," you popped the p -awkwardly. Your eyes darting between his frantically, you felt something building in the air a moment -heavy as your eyes sat on his, and his on yours.

It was almost as if, a look, one glance held your entire being in the balance.

"I think you're quite pretty too, ya know," he echoed out, low and gravelly -you could feel his breaths scattered across your face. He was suddenly very close to you again, the fuzziness that banter provided snatched away.

Something twisted in the bottom of your stomach, as you opened your mouth -letting out a very quiet, "Thank you."

He seemed to take those words, just absorb them in the heavy silence that had bestowed upon the room. There was a part of you that wished Lemon was still here, that he could pull you apart but he left early that morning. And now, here you were, and all you could think about was his lips and that stupid fucking mustache-

You blinked, clearing the fog, and clearing your throat -backing up and standing to your feet.

Tangerine slowly came to the realization, the haze drifting out of his eyes, as they came to default onto yours -still intense but not as close. You could handle this.

"Anyway," you bit your lip, "-I'm kind of starved, do you... want anything?"

"Do I fuckin' want anythin'," he mumbled to himself for a moment -hands carefully putting the old bandage on the table and arranging all of the supplies so they wouldn't fall off.

And with a slow measured breath, he rose to his feet -steps teetering closer to you. His hands found solace in his hair as he rifled it up a bit, and on the cuff of his shirt -you saw a little blood. Was that from you? From your bandage-

"I've got somethin' in mind," he finally said, a little distant from you, but nothing like before (maybe just a few steps away from the closeness of the couch).

"Yeah, um," you cleared your throat, but it still felt dry, "-what do you... want? I think we've got like some... fancy tortilla chips and salsa, which... is a good one, or-"

He laughed a deep sort of low chuckle, erasing those steps you talked about before. You swallowed, words trailing off; there was a little spark in his eye when he noticed that you had -pride.

"You are really un-fuckin'-believable, you know 'at, love?"

"I think you've told me before."

He laughed at that, shaking his head, and you felt the breaths of each one scattered along your face -brushing onto your lips. You snapped your mouth closed at the thought.

Deep breaths, you thought to yourself, deep, deep breaths. You can do this.

Tangerine grew rather silent, before words seemed to bubble out of him without thinking, "You."

"What?"

"I want you, love," he clarified, "-in particular, I'd really love to fuckin' kiss ya right now, is 'at alright?"

"I didn't think you were the type to ask," you quipped, before you could really think about it, again.

He furrowed his eyebrows, a bit in defense.

"No, I mean-" you scrambled for a minute, "-you feel like the kinda guy that does it-"

"It?"

"-in like an emotional rush. You know? Like no words, just... just..."

Tangerine sighed, but you could see the quirk of a smile on his lips -you hadn't scared him off yet apparently.

"Sorry," you squeaked out, and you definitely saw a smile smooth across his lips.

"I'm fuckin' askin' ya, love. Say yes or no, yeah?"

"Yes," it came out in a rush of breath, a little like it clawed up your throat with desperation, "-yes."

Tangerine didn't hesitate a second longer, pushing forward with a force unmatched -big hands coming to cup your face at the hinge of your jaw. It was desperate, almost like he'd been waiting to do this awhile and the idea of that, made your breath catch.

You briefly wondered when it started, before he pushed into you further -hands righting themselves just below your ears on the back of your neck. He made you bump into the wall behind you. Tangerine promptly swallowed your squeak at the sensation, as easy as breathing.

Of course he was good at kissing too, your mind chimed, so unfair.

And then a more coy voice spoke up, but hey, he does want to kiss you though, I'd count that as a win.

Yeah, you decided as his mustache scratched ever so slightly at your upper lip and his hands dropped to your waist, definitely a win.

He pulled back a moment, breaths ragged and slow -eyes darting over yours, "Was good, yeah?"

You decidedly didn't answer him, pushing forward to kiss him again -this time a little slower, less rushed. He was just as slow, fingers holding your waist just slightly tighter like he didn't want you to leave.

Why the hell would I leave?

Tangerine was the one to part that time too, eyes slow to open like the kiss had affected him just as much. Your heart beat a little faster at that.

"Take that as a yes, yeah?"

"Oh, definitely," you laughed, hands coming to rest between his chest and shoulders.

He's strong too, your mind unwillingly retorted.

He didn't move, like he was simply absorbing your breaths and to be fair, you were pretty sure you were doing the same. He was nearly panting after all.

Words slipped out before you could stop them, "When I told you to borrow sugar, this was not what I was expecting."

Tangerine paused for a moment, gears working. Before his face flickered into something of annoyance, frown so prominent.

"Good god, fuckin' shut up, love."

"Make me," you offered, laughing.

And he certainly did.