#and then echo spends the next few days tossing it around in his mind and finally deciding yknow what fuck it im running away

[whateveriwant]

The 141 in a reverse harem

18+ content, GN!Reader, Reader is the ruler of an ancient kingdom

Soap

The moment you step into their communal quarters, Soap is always the first one to greet you, almost Iike he was sitting right beside the door

But nooooo, don't be silly. Of course he's not been impatiently waiting since your last visit. Though, you were 28 and ¾ minutes later than normal, not that he's been counting or anything

As you walk around their dwelling deciding on who to take back to your chambers for the night, he's following closely behind like a little horny whiny puppy

More than once, he's accidentally stepped on your robes because of just how close he likes to trail after you

Oh, but he's so terribly sorry! Here, let him make it up to you! Please, please let him make it up to you!

Because he tries to hog the limited time you spend with the men, it's earned him more than a few elbows to the ribs from his biggest “rival” in the group: Gaz. And speaking of which…

Gaz

Always trailing a little less desperately closely behind is the newest member of the harem: Gaz

Though he may be the youngest of the four, that doesn't mean he's any less experienced in these types of matters (and the young ones are always the most eager to please, aren't they)

Have you had a good day, darling? He knows you're very busy running a kingdom and all, so he for one is grateful you've taken time out of your hectic schedule to visit them

Oh, but your shoulders look so tense, darling! He can rub them for you if you'd like

And your poor feet! Those sandals of yours look awfully uncomfortable. Why doesn't he head back with you so he can show your full body the love it deserves

While he and Soap can't help but bicker when it comes to vying for your attention, on the rare occasion, the two have been able to put aside their differences and work together, if you know what I mean

Price

Unlike the two younger men, Price feels no need to fight for your time

No, he knows you'll eventually make your way over to him, swaying your hips in that way that makes him salivate like a dog

As the oldest and the longest resident of the group, he's become somewhat of a right hand of yours; almost like a concubine turned consultant, if you will

While of course he loves nothing more than to get down to the nitty gritty with you, these talks of yours are truly the highlight of his day even when they're entirely polite in nature

Why yes, he has done something different with his beard, thank you for noticing. He got some new oils from the market yesterday. Do you like it? Isn't it soft? Just wait until you feel it between your thighs

No matter who you're taking to your bed for the evening, Price always escorts you to the door of their quarters, leaving you with a kiss to the hand goodbye. Until next time, starlight

Ghost

Last but certainly not least is the man you have the most… interesting dynamic with, to put it one way

It's funny, really. He likes to pretend the sweet taste of you doesn't haunt his every waking moment, and you like to pretend that there was anyone else on your mind the second you walked through the door

But oh, he sees that you've arrived yet again... Well, this book of his is super interesting, so he's just going to sit in the corner and read, and absolutely not watch you out of the corner of his eye

What was that? No, he's not holding it in his lap for any reason. And no, his pant legs aren't shorter than normal. Why would you think that?

Oh, but the moment you hold your hand out for him, he has to stop himself from immediately tossing the dumb book aside and hauling you over his shoulder like some sort of rabid beast

Instead, he takes his time standing from his seat, almost indifferent as he takes your hand and lets you lead him back to your chambers

It's all a farce though, of course. Nothing makes his pride swell more than having you scream his name for the whole palace to hear, echoing all the way back to where the three other men are left to sit and mope

[gay-hoodie-boy]

am i gonna prince x mercenary echo and itto? maybe. you cant prove anything.

[katsu28]

Steve and hugging from behind would be so cute 🥺

anything for u my dear nova <33 the hugging from behind part is literally just a speck in all this fluff oopsie but pls enjoy

steve harrington x reader, 1.4k

There was something about Steve Harrington that made you unbelievably nervous. A good kind of nervous, of course—the kind that sent your stomach into a fluttery mess and made your fingertips tingle every time he touched you.

You shouldn’t be nervous around him, but you’d been together for three months and still found yourself fighting the urge to unabashedly stare at him whenever you spent time with each other. 

Another reason to be nervous—you were spending the night at his place for the very first time.

It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to spend a whole day together, but you always went home at the end of the night (much to Steve’s dismay). So a few hours ago when he casually suggested you just stay the night instead of leaving and coming back in the morning, you almost freaked out. 

Now you were here, standing in his bathroom fresh out of the shower, staring at yourself in the fogged up mirror and willing yourself to just be normal. It was Steve. There was nothing to worry about. 

Steve was sprawled out on his bed when you finally mustered up the courage to make your way to his room, tossing a raggedy baseball above his head and catching it.

Well, trying to catch it was a more apt description. His focus immediately shifted to you as you padded in, the ball bouncing off the mattress next to his head and nearly hitting him in the face in the process before rolling onto the floor. He scrambled to his feet, ball forgotten. 

“Hi.” He said softly, smiling at you with the brightness that rivaled the sun. You echoed his greeting, clutching at the towel around you. “Uh, here. This is for you.” He held out a well worn looking shirt, soft cotton brushing against your fingers as you took it gratefully. “I can—I’ll turn around while you get dressed.” 

“Thanks, Steve,” You mumbled, suddenly feeling shy. There were those damn nerves again. Steve turned around like he said he would, rocking back and forth on his heels while you pulled the shirt over your body. It smelled like laundry detergent and cologne and so very Steve you decided right then and there you were definitely keeping this shirt. “You can turn around now.” 

He whirled back around, letting himself take in the sight of you in his clothes. It was something straight out of a dream he’d had a few times. “You’re so pretty.” 

“You’re not so bad looking yourself.” 

Steve preened at the compliment, looking mighty pleased. He’d already changed while you were in the bathroom, clad in only a pair of old Hawkins High sweatpants slung low on his hips. 

His chestnut hair was free of product, fluffy and a little all over the place with a artful curl hanging over his brow. You had to fight the urge to brush it out of his eyes, though you suspected he probably wouldn’t have minded one bit if you did. 

“C’mere,” He murmured, stretching out an arm towards you. The look in his eyes held so much warmth, so fond and sickly sweet you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d ended up with a toothache come morning time. It spurred you forward, folding yourself into Steve’s embrace like it was second nature. Like it was where you belonged. His nose dipped into your hair and he inhaled, arms wrapping around you tight. 

“Did you just sniff me?”

“You smell really nice.” He defended meekly, cheeks turning an embarrassed pink. You kissed him to remedy it, smiling against his lips when he kissed you back immediately. His hand rubbed along your back whilst he maneuvered the two of you towards the bed without managing to break the kiss, but the need for air unfortunately won out. 

Steve pulled the covers over the two of you swiftly, settling close—but not too close, in case you liked to have your own space while you slept. 

You tucked yourself snug against his side instead, cheek pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you again, and you were content there. The sound of his heartbeat hammered a million miles a minute in your ear, and it made you feel a little better knowing that he was just as nervous as you were. It actually eased your own nerves a tenfold. 

“Is this okay? Are you comfy?” Steve asked worriedly. It was cute how attentive he was. You wanted to tell him that being wrapped in his arms was one of the comfiest places in the world, but just opted for a nod, nuzzling a little closer to him in lieu of an answer. Steve still got the message loud and clear, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

It didn’t take long for either of you to fall asleep, you because of the steady rise and fall of Steve’s chest, and him because of the soothing warmth you radiated. He could fall asleep like this every night and still never get tired of it. 

-------

You were expecting Steve to be next to you when you woke up the next morning. But when you opened your eyes and rolled over to look at him, the space beside you was empty. 

He was in the kitchen when you finally found him, standing at the stove when you padded in, humming along to the song playing softly from the radio over on the other counter. His back was towards you as he poured batter into a pan on the stove. 

A sizeable stack of perfect pancakes sat on a plate beside him, with crispy edges, just the way you liked it. You wondered how he knew that, seeing as you’d never told him before. Then again, Steve always seemed to know what you liked. 

You crossed the room quiet as a mouse, sliding your arms around him once you were close enough. 

Letting out a surprised noise at the feeling of your embrace, it only took him a second to realize it was you.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He hummed, settling his free hand over your linked ones at his navel. You pressed your forehead between his shoulder blades, reveling in the warmth of his freckled skin and stayed there for a while, feeling him inhale and exhale with every breath he took. It was quite soothing. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Good. Really good.” 

“Sure sounded like it, what with the way you were snoring in my ear the whole night.” 

“I was not!” You gasped, rearing back. Steve’s body shook with laughter, and you realized he was just poking fun at you. “You’re an asshole.” 

“An asshole who’s making you breakfast right now.” He pointed out, flipping the pancake for good measure.

“True. You’ve been promoted to just a little shit then.” 

“Lucky me.” Steve snorted. “As much as I love this, you’re kinda cramping my style. I don’t wanna accidentally elbow you when I try to wow you with my triple pancake flip. Go sit at the counter and do what you do best—look pretty.” 

You obliged, but not before sighing overdramatically. “Trying to get rid of me already, Harrington?” 

“Dunno…is it working?” 

“Just for that comment, no, it isn’t working.” You huffed, propping your chin up in your hand. 

“Oh, good. Was kinda planning on keeping you around for a while.” 

“Just a while?” 

Steve shrugged without turning around. “Maybe forever.” 

You sat in silence with his words, maybe a little longer than you meant to, because Steve whirled around, brows crinkled with worry. 

“I’m sorry. Was that—that was too much, wasn’t it?” He blurted, shuffling over to where you were. “Did I just make things super weird? I didn’t mean like forever forever, I just thought it sounded smooth. Which, obviously it didn’t ‘cause—” 

Leaning over the counter, you slid your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. This one was sweet and firm and had Steve melting faster than the pad of butter he’d placed atop the pancake stack. 

You let your forehead press against his when you pulled away. “I like forever.” 

“I do too.” He grinned, nearly going cross-eyed trying to look at you up close. He dotted another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Y’know, I’m really enjoying the whole shutting me up with kisses thing you’ve got going on lately. I think you should keep doing it.” 

“Oh, do you?” You chuckled, sitting back down in your seat. Steve came around the counter to slide onto the stool next to you, scooting your own stool close enough to his that his knees bracketed yours. Now it was his turn to bring you in for a kiss instead of an answer. 

Forever with Steve suddenly seemed like the best idea in the world, especially if it meant you’d get to have mornings like this all the time. 

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[thelargefrye]

CHRISTMAS BLUES  …  one - shot

pairing : poly!ateez x idol!f!reader

genre : angst + hurt / comfort + really really light smut

warnings : language + insecure thoughts + y/n celebrates christmas + mentions of shower sex

word count : 2.3k

notes : this is a repost on my actual blog bc my other blog @/atztv has gotten shadowbanned 😕

after your flight home gets cancelled last minute, you spend the holidays alone and you take this moment to think about your relationship with the boys.

DEC. 23, INCHEON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, SOUTH KOREA, 10:49 PM

“cancelled?” you echo the words the airline worker had just said to you. they nodded and once again offered an apology to you, but you brushed them off. “that’s alright, thank you. happy holidays,” you say softly before picking your bags up, luggage towing behind you as you get out of line.

your flight home had been cancelled last minute due to the weather, which means that you would be spending the holidays by yourself.

the boys had already went home. all miles away from seoul and from you in order to spend the limited time they had with their families before they had to go on tour again.

well, might as well go back to the dorm, you think before trudging your way out of the airport to haul a taxi.

DEC. 24, ATEEZ DORM, 12:03 AM

the dorm always felt odd when the boys weren’t here. even when they were on tour and you remained in korea, it felt weird.

something just… unsettling about how quiet it was. that’s why you usually opted to stay in your own apartment when they were gone.

leaving your luggage by the door along with your shoes, you make your way through the dorm. winter jacket being ditched at the edge of the couch mindless as you make your way to one of the bedroom.

smack, you turn to see your coat now on the floor and your shoulders slump at the sight. shit, i’ll get it later, you think before continuing to seonghwa’s and hongjoong’s room.

changing your clothes, you throw on one of seonghwa’s hoodies. allowing yourself to be engulfed with his scent, you think this makes the dorm a little less cold.

you make your way back to the kitchen to fix you some ramen after realizing you hadn’t eaten in a few hours.

honestly, making ramen wasn’t your favorite thing to do. you know that if wooyoung was here, you would just harass him until he caved in and made it for you. he would complain about making it, but you knew if it really bothered him, he have a small smile on his face as he made.

yeah, his ramen is better.

DEC. 24, ATEEZ DORM, 8:09 AM

woo-bug : hey bby! let us know when you land and make it home!!

joongie : ^^ love you! have fun and call us when you get settled! 😙😙😙

you smile at the texts you got from some of the boys. you woke up this morning to see the text from them and it makes your stomach full with butterflies.

you : hey loves, i’m home 💕 will call you later when i get the chance!! have fun with your families.

you toss your phone to the side as you get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom for a quick shower.

you figured you might as well go out and do some things then be trapped in the dorm for two days by yourself.

as you’re in the shower, you can’t help but let your mind wander to the boys. how seonghwa would be arguing with san about joining you in the shower, the eldest telling the younger to let you shower in peace.

however unknown to the fact that hongjoong had already snuck in and joined you. you would be like putty in his hand as his hands roamed your body, feigning innocence and claiming he’s “helping you wash” and the next thing you know he has two fingers shoved into your pussy.

you try to hold back your moans, but he would encourage you to let them out as his free hand fondles your breast. “let it out, pretty. let them here how good i’m making you feel.”

his fingers move faster, the feeling of you clenching around his fingers let’s him know you are close. you finally do reach your climax with a high pitched moan, you are hit with the sudden realization that you are alone.

the now ice cold water feels weird hitting against your hot skin.

DEC. 24, SEOUL, 2:30 PM

your converse against the sidewalk make a nice rhythm as you walk through seoul.

it’s been a while since you’ve traveled to this part of the city and you’re hoping to find a new café to take yeosang to before they leave on your.

hongjoong’s jacket, that you definitely didn’t steal from his closet, engulfs you nicely along with the thick sweater you have underneath. you knew hongjoong would love your outfit.

you need to make sure to take a picture and send it to him later.

as you walk, you take note of the a new café you haven’t seen before. the aesthetic of the place was cute and warm and you knew you would have to bring yeosang here.

and maybe even jongho. the maknae always made it seem like he was rather indifferent about coming to cafés with you and yeosang, but you knew he secretly loved coming on those kind of dates with you two.

you once overheard him tell yunho about a café he wanted to take you too. you remember the gummy smile he had and the fond look yunho gave him.

now that you think about it… that was around the time you wanted a break from the relationship because of hongjoong and that producer.

you feel a sense of guilt settle in your stomach as you think about how he never took you to that café or even mentioned it.

during that time, you felt like you just ruined everything for them. that’s why you wanted to take a break. you remember how miserable you felt and how you would actively ignore their longing looks when you ran into them at the company.

you try not to think about how miserable they must have felt too.

DEC. 24, SEOUL, 5:30 PM

“why are you doing here, young missy!” the familiar voice of the grandma at the bbq restaurant yells as you walk through the door.

you can’t help but smile as you walk over to her hunched form and allow her to hug you. she’s warm.

“gosh, missy, why are you so cold? and where are the boys at?”

“my flight home was cancelled and they boys are with their families,” you explain to her as she leads you to a table.

she doesn’t hand you a menu, already knowing yours and the boys orders by heart. you’ve been coming here since your trainee days. you look at the walls to see pictures of you and the boys decorating one wall and her collection of signed albums on display for everyone to see.

grandma makes you feel proud of all your hard work. she’s witnessed you grow from a rookie to someone who has fans all over the world.

“oh, grandma, here,” you say handing her the present your bought her once she brings you your food.

“thank you, dear, you always did have such a warm heart.”

DEC. 24, HONGJOONG, 9:30 PM

“huh? what do you mean she didn’t go home?” hongjoong was confused as he spoke to his manager over the phone.

“i seen her while i was out. she was wearing one of your jackets you designed. i contacted her manager and apparently her flight was cancelled last minute. figured i would at least let you know,” his manager finishes and hongjoong thanks the man before he hangs up.

why didn’t you tell them your flight was cancelled? if you had told him you were still in korea, he would have immediately went to go get you and bring him home with you. his parents love you, they wouldn’t have minded.

the question still lingered in the back of his mind as he tries to figure out why you didn’t say anything. he lets out a sigh before picking his phone back up and going to his contacts.

“hey, do you have a second?”

DEC. 24, ATEEZ DORM, 11:30 PM

this is nice, you think to yourself as you snuggle on the couch, favorite blanket wrapped around you as you watch a christmas movie. a bowl of popcorn nestled right next to you.

the christmas movie was one of those cliche love story ones. the type that always got mingi emotional by the end of it.

“i’m just so happy they found each other!” mingi would say as he wiped his eyes away before cuddling into whoever was the closest to him.

you’ll have to rewatch this movie with mingi when they come back. you know he’ll really enjoy watching it with you.

you let your head rest against the back of the couch, eyes following the characters on the tv. letting out a few chuckles here and there because of their shenanigans. by the end of the movie, you were starting to grow tired, but decided that one more movie wouldn’t hurt before going to bed.

looking at the clock you notice it was 11:30, only thirty more minutes until christmas. you remind yourself to send the boys a text once it hits midnight.

your first pad softly across the floor as you make your way to the kitchen to fix another bowl of popcorn.

while you’re waiting, you begin to hum to yourself. a song you and hongjoong have been working on while he’s been away on tour, sending the song back and forth between each other.

it was something you were proud of.

beep, beep, beep! you take the popcorn out of the microwave and dump it into your bowl.

thump! you turn around at the sound, bowl in hand you begin to walk near the door. “that damn jacket, i swear to—

you cut yourself off when you notice yunho standing at the entrance. you can’t help the small gasp you let out as the two of you make eye contact.

yunho smiles at you warmly, setting his bag aside he immediately comes up and engulfs you into a hug.

“my pretty baby, why didn’t you tell us your flight was cancelled?” he asked, hand running over your hair as he holds you close to his chest. you can feel the coldness of outside lingering on his jacket as you snuggle into him more.

“i didn’t want to bother you guys,” you mumble once yunho pulled away a little bit. you refused to look him in the eyes, ashamed of not telling him.

he took the bowl of popcorn from your hands gentle, setting it aside before cupping your face. you didn’t even realize you had tears forming until he forced you to look at him.

“you should know by now how important you are to us and this relationship. you will never be a bother to me, or hyung, or any of us. i love you so much,” he confesses and you feel your heart thumping hard in your ears at his words.

“i’m sorry!” you cry, tears finally falling as you shove your face back into yunho’s sweater. “i’ve been so miserable since you guys went on tour. seeing you all perform and do lives together made me feel so… i don’t know, like i don’t belong in this relationship.”

“and being here alone for christmas just made all those feelings come back?” he asked softly, he felt his heart ache when you nodded your head.

yunho didn’t say anything as he tapped the back of your thighs, a signal for you to jump, to which you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“go ahead and cry your heart out, baby, i’m not going anywhere,” he says once he moved the two of you to the couch. you felt your blanket drape over your shoulders as yunho started rubbing circles into your back.

DEC. 25, ATEEZ DORM, 12:05 AM

when you woke up, you felt overly warm. your cheek was squished against something soft, too soft to be the couch cushion. and when you go to move, that’s when it hit you.

yunho had come to the dorm.

you sit up quickly, pushing your body away from your boyfriend to see him looking at you in shock.

“whoa, you okay, baby?” he asks still a little surprised by your sudden movement.

“i-i’m fine…” you say trailing off as you feel yourself relax a little bit.

“do you feel a little better?” he ask, hand coming up to caress your face.

“why didn’t you stay with your family?” you ask completely ignoring his question.

“what?”

“why did you leave them to come here?” you rephrase your question, looking down at your hands instead of meeting his eyes. for some reason you were afraid to meeting his eyes. why? you weren’t too sure on.

“because someone needed to be with you during the holidays,” he answers quietly, his fingers coming and intertwining with yours lazily. “i told my parents and brother that you were alone at the dorm, and my mom practically shoved me out the door to get here quicker.”

you looked at him a little surprised, “really?” he nodded with a smile. “my mom really likes you, she wants to meet you soon. i think she might be a bigger fan of you than she is of me,” he adds with a laugh and it makes you laugh as well.

then something hits you, “what time is it?”

yunho looks at his watch, “a little past midnight. merry christmas love,” he says before leaning over to kiss you. “thank you for loving us and sticking with us through everything,” he whispers in your ear as he pulls you back to his chest.

you smile as you snuggle into his chest, “merry christmas to you too, yuyu. i love you.”

[eksvaized]

[ Previous ┃ Next ] part 10

Simon’s muscles ached by the time he finished disposing of Matt’s body. His hands were covered in painful blisters, and his shirt was drenched with sweat, sticking uncomfortably to his back. Every inch of his skin was coated in a layer of grime and dirt, but as he returned to the shed and tossed the shovel on the floor, he knew that there was still a lot that needed to be done.

He had to return to Matt’s house to ensure that absolutely no evidence of his presence remained there. Afterwards, he had to get rid of Matt’s car; he couldn’t leave it on his property. Lastly, Simon had to devise a way to make it seem as though Matt had vanished without a trace. He thought that the best way to do it was to post on Matt’s social media, make everyone think he had gone to some party, drank too much, and disappeared. No one would notice Matt’s absence until a few days had passed. By then, Simon would have made sure there was no lingering evidence that could tie back to him, clearing him of any suspicion.

There was one thing, though, that he couldn’t get rid of. Matt’s phone. He wanted to break it, smash the screen into a million pieces, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The phone’s gallery was filled with pictures of you, which he wanted to keep for himself. So, the phone was going to end up in the black box, which was in his office, in his home.

It took Simon exactly two days to deal with Matt and take care of the mess he found himself in. But once he was finally done, his thoughts kept circling back to you. He resisted the urge to text you because the nagging guilt, like a voracious beast, tore at Simon’s conscience, despite his conviction in his choices.

After what had happened at the shed, he spent a long week trapped in a sleep-deprived haze, his eyes weighed down by the sheer intensity of his exhaustion. He could only doze off for brief periods, and his body was essentially functioning on nothing more than a mix of black, overly sweet coffee and bitter nicotine. Whenever his thoughts grew too loud, he would find temporary relief in cigarettes. Their scent would mingle with the fading echoes in his mind as he chain-smoked.

The days blurred into each other.

He found himself plagued by an inescapable feeling of filth that seemed to cling to him. Regardless of the many showers he took throughout the day, and the countless hours he spent standing under the running water, hoping it could wash away the grime... it was all for nothing. Even when he scrubbed his skin until it was raw and hurt in desperate attempts to cleanse himself, the nauseating sensation in his stomach persisted. It made his head spin and his vision blur, as though he was on the verge of vomiting at any moment.

He tried to persuade himself that what he did was necessary. Matt was dangerous. He only used you to get what he wanted. He had to be stopped, and Simon had no choice but to end his life after Matt took off his mask, revealing his face. If Simon had let him walk free, Matt would have reported everything that transpired to the police, who then would have arrested him. Simon could not let that happen. There was no way he could have continued seeing you if he was locked up.

The weekend was approaching and Simon could no longer bear his own imposed solitude. He was consumed with thoughts of you. One morning, after a night spent staring at your number on his phone, he called you.

When you answered the phone, he could tell by the tone of your voice, even if he couldn’t see your face, that something was bothering you. He wanted to inquire what was wrong, but he feared the answer might involve Matt. So instead, Simon asked you out on a second date. You paused, and Simon’s heart sank, thinking that you were about to reject him. However, after an agonizing five seconds, you said you would love to see him again.

“Does Friday work for you?” he asked, pacing around the room.

He knew that day was usually reserved for spending time with your girlfriends. But he desperately wanted to distance them from you, to make sure that in the future you could only rely on him. And this was the first step to doing so.

“If you had asked this yesterday, I would have said no. But Mandy is out of town and Liz doesn’t like going out with just me... Well, actually, never mind. Forget all that, it doesn’t matter. I won’t go into unnecessary details,” you giggled, making Simon smile as well. “My answer is yes. I’m free on Friday. And I would love to go on a date with you.”

The conversation lasted for a couple more minutes. You were curious to know where he planned to take you, however; he insisted on keeping it all a surprise. By the playful glint in his voice, you could tell he was enjoying keeping this a secret, and that no matter how much you ask, he wasn’t going to tell you anything. So, ultimately, you relented. The call ended after he asked for your address, which was simply a pretense on his part, as he already knew where you lived.

Friday arrived quickly. Simon had initially planned to take you to your favourite restaurant, but as the day came to see you, he realised he wanted it to be more special than you two simply going out for dinner. So, before coming to your house, he made a detour and ended up ordering nearly the entire menu from the place he knew you loved, ensuring he bought enough to satisfy your every possible craving.

Standing at your front door, Simon realised he was nervous, his palms were sweaty and he couldn’t stop gnawing at the inside of his cheek. This was definitely a new experience for him because men like him don’t get anxious when going on dates. However, it seemed like you had the ability to make his head spin and make him want to fall at your feet.

Instead of ringing the doorbell, he knocked three times, his knuckles softly hitting the wood. In one hand, he held three bags full of food and a wine bottle that clinked with his each movement. In the other, he had a bouquet of vibrant red roses that smelled wonderful.

He could hear the soft patter of your footsteps growing louder as you approached. A second later, he saw you. The moment your gaze fell upon him, your lips curled into a bright smile and he couldn’t help but mirror your expression. Your eyes shifted downwards, landing on his hands, noticing how full they were. He watched as your smile grew, and how you titled your head, your eyes filling with a slight confusion.

“What is all of this? I thought we were going out,” you said, pleasantly surprised yet slightly perplexed as he handed you the flowers.

“I changed my mind,” Simon said, as you stepped aside to let him pass. “Instead of taking you out on a typical date, I wanted to do something special.”

“You could have told me so!” You giggled, rolling your eyes and nudging him with your shoulder. “I wouldn’t have wasted so much time getting dressed up then.” A heavy sigh slipped past your lips as you feigned exhaustion.

You were wearing a little black dress. The dress was not overly excessive or flashy — it was quite short and plain, yet it clung to your body in all the right places. You look absolutely stunning. As Simon followed you from the hallway to the living room, his eyes shamelessly glided down your back, his gaze lingering on the curve of your ass just for a moment too long.

“...so I pretty much ordered everything on the menu. I probably shouldn’t have, and under normal circumstances, I would never do that. But... this is my favourite restaurant and the food there... is bloody delicious,” Simon explained as he unloaded an assortment of different-sized containers from the bags onto the coffee table; he embellished some details in his story because, after all, it wasn’t his favorite place, but it was yours.

“Wait. I know where this is from!” You exclaimed, your gaze fixed on the logo imprinted on one of the lids. “I absolutely adore that place!”

“It’s a lucky coincidence then,” Simon said, grinning as he popped the cork of a bottle of wine.

“I’m going to be right back,” you mumbled, leaving the living room. Moments later, you returned from the kitchen, carrying two glasses, a couple of plates and the silverware: just because you weren’t going out that didn’t mean you needed to eat out of paper plates.

You confessed you didn’t expect Simon to ask you out again. When he naively asked why, he immediately regretted the question because you mentioned Matt. Simon didn’t want to talk about him; he didn’t want to think about Matt tonight, fearing the guilt and regret he felt all week would resurface and dampen his mood. However, it appeared like you felt the need to justify yourself and assure him you weren’t some kind of man-eater.

“I know the last time we saw each other, I mentioned I was seeing someone. But I promise I’m not two-timing you,” you said, taking the glass of wine and curling up on the couch. “The guy — Matt, not that you care what his name is — he’s been avoiding me, ignoring all my calls and texts.”

You took a sip, pausing for a bit. You pulled the bottom lip in between your teeth, biting on the soft flesh as you hesitated, not sure if you wanted to continue. But Simon remained silent, so you resumed pouring your frustrations out.

“We have a history together. I used to date him in high school. We were close, and he was always so patient with me, never pressuring me into doing something I wasn’t ready for. But then he had to move, and we broke up. I thought that since he moved back into the city, we could pick up where we left off. He seemed to want that too, but I guess he changed his mind.”

After a low sigh escaped you, Simon placed his hand on your knee, giving it a comforting squeeze. The warmth of his touch spreading throughout your body.

“Now, I’m beginning to see what I desperately tried to ignore. The thought of dating me never even crossed his mind, and he only used me to... to satisfy his urges.”

Simon nodded his head. His lips were sealed but a thousand thoughts were racing through his mind: yes, you were naïve, but now he could see that you were smart, too. Matt was mistaken for thinking he could exploit your innocence.

“It’s his loss,” Simon finally spoke, his voice soft. He peeled his hand away from your knee. His fingers moved up your arm, lingering as they slid underneath your jaw. His thumb circled your cheek once before he reached out to a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, pushing it away from your eyes, carefully tucking it behind your ear. “A woman like you deserves better. You shouldn’t settle for some douchebag who doesn’t know how to treat you.”

The air was stuck in your chest. Your lips were parted, and your gaze never left his brown eyes. You hadn’t realised how tense your body had become. The wine glass you held in your hand felt heavy, your fingers wrapped around it so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Only when Simon averted his gaze, allowing his hand to fall back into his lap, your muscles relaxed and you could finally breathe out, the air rushing out of your lungs in a soft sigh.

There was an invisible string that seemed to connect you to Simon, pulling you in and drawing you closer to him. And maybe it was just all the wine dulling your senses, and the fact that you finished half of the bottle by yourself (Simon only pretended to drink), but a part of you wanted to kiss him.

You placed the glass on the coffee table, creating a gentle clicking sound as it made contact with the surface. The sudden noise in the otherwise quiet living room made Simon turn his head and look at you. When his gaze locked with yours, an electrifying tension that was almost palpable filled the air. Taking in a shallow breath, you leaned in, closing the gap between you two. Slowly and gently, you pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you.”

Simon’s heart hammered against the walls of his ribcage, each beat echoing in his ear. Your touch sparked a wildfire on his skin, causing warmth to spread throughout his body, as if a million tiny flames licked at his nerves, searing his senses. Your presence, like a magnet, drew him closer towards you, and he couldn’t make himself pull away. You had only planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Yet that insignificant gesture meant more to him than you could have ever realised.

The softness of your lips against his skin felt like a revelation. That kiss made him feel as if everything he had done so far, the way he acted, was justified. Even though his dark impulses had taken over more than once, it was all worth it because now, he was here, and you were by his side.

[stainedglasstruth]

TIMING: May, After Get Glad LOCATION: The Wormhole PARTIES: Arden (@stainedglasstruth) & Zack (@zackbanes) SUMMARY: Zack and Arden have a drink together and have a moment of queer solidarity. They talk about their feelings on relationships CONTENT WARNINGS: Casual drinking

Going to the Wormhole still felt a little uncanny to Arden. She’d been back for several months now, but going to some of her old haunts still gave her, well, a haunting feeling, and she’d only just started going back to the Wormhole after moving to Worm’s Row. The bar still looked almost exactly how she remembered it, the scratched and stained bar and tables, the shitty wobbly stools, the obnoxious neon signs on the wall, a colorful cast of patrons ranging from broke college students to slimy guys with terrible attitudes, and the overwhelming smell of alcohol. The latter of which, was a relief these days. She’d take the shitty dive bar over the ever present smell of sulfur hanging in the air, thanks.

She looked down at her phone, checking her text thread with Zack before peering around the bar. Where was… There. Spotting the familiar head of hair, she weaved her way between a few students and made her way over to a small booth in the corner. 

“Hey,” Arden greeted, an apologetic smile on her face. “Sorry I’m a little late, I got caught up at the library.” She plopped down in the seat across from him, tossing her bag and jacket down next to her. “I’ll get the first round to make it up to you.”

—

Zack popped his head up from his tablet at the sound of Arden’s greeting. “Hey!” he echoed back. He swept the device into his bag without a second thought – he had just been flipping through some designs that would be off to clients the next day or so. Besides Arden wasn’t that late and even if she had been, Zack never minded spending time in a bar. Despite not being much of a drinker, he did find that he loved the ambiance of them. 

“It’s all good,” he assured her with a wave of his hand. “Chasing a big lead or something?” he asked with a trying grin. Zack didn’t know much about what Arden did, aside from media portrayals of journalists. Did Arden even do that kind of investigative work? Who could say. Not him, that was for sure. Either way, he was sure to be careful around her, just in case. Just in case she thought to look into anything about him and where he had come from.

“Hell yeah,” Zack agreed with a grin, gesturing for the bartender. He ordered a shot and a beer back for both of them, happily announcing that Arden would be paying for this round. He lifted the shot glass to toast at his roommate and friend. “What’re we drinking to? Queer solidarity?”

—

Zack always had such an infectious energy about him that Arden found it hard not to smile whenever he was around. The man was infuriatingly likeable in a way that she was always striving to exude in her day to day. What required so much of her was seemingly effortless for him; it made her just a little jealous, not that she could hold it against him. He called himself a fellow trash raccoon, but he really was a ray of sunshine in his own right. 

“No leads, unfortunately,” she grinned, “more research than anything.” Still stuck without any leads on Erebus or the situation in mines, she had continued looking into anything remotely related. Her searching had not gotten her very far. 

Arden grinned, amused at his enthusiasm. “Hey,” she said, raising her glass, “I will always drink to queer solidarity.” 

—

“What are you researching?” Zack asked, “Anything interesting?” He wondered, not for the first time, whether Arden held the same ideas about the town as Zack. That there was something else. That was why he had come, after all. And it had turned out to be at least a little right – Levi was here and he had helped get Zack on the track for some answers. Arden had grown up here, after all, and Zack wondered what exactly had brought her back to town. 

They did their shots together, Zack wincing just a little at the burn. He still wasn’t much of a drinker when it came to liquor, but he was enjoying the other aspects more and more. Beer, he found, he could enjoy most times. And sharing one with a friend was becoming a regular thing. Which – if you had told Zack of 6 months ago that, he never would have believed it. That he had drinking buddies – that he had friends. That there were some of them, even, who knew what he was, knew all that was inside him, and still hadn’t turned away, yet. 

“Speaking of queer solidarity,” Zack began, one eyebrow up. “I believe you owe me a story. About you and a night at Red Eye.” He couldn’t really imagine what Arden had been doing in that part of town, at that coffee shop in particular. But apparently it had been gay, which meant Zack was ready to hear about it. He took a sip from his beer and then laid into Arden with a pointed look, clearly waiting.

—

Debating for a moment whether she should say anything, Arden gave a very casual glance around them to make sure no one was close enough that they would be able to hear. For better or worse, she trusted Zack– enough to live with him, and enough to share some basic information at least. Maybe that was a mistake, maybe the desperate loneliness that plagued her was getting to be too much, was making her sloppy. “The mines,” she admitted. “The whole situation is a bit strange.” That was a fucking understatement. 

Downing the shot, she chased it with a swig of beer. It wasn’t a go to for her, beer, but the taste was decent, and she was drinking with another person. It would be better to pace herself, keep speed with Zack. 

She sighed, unable to keep a smile off her face at his prodding. Right. She had mentioned that night to him after some of her own prodding. “Damn, okay, getting right to it, I see.” It had been a long time since she had someone to talk shit with about the mundane yet personal things in life, though, to be honest, she had felt a lot more comfortable talking to him about it before she had remembered that Zack was friends with Andy. 

“I don’t know how familiar you are with it, but Masque of the Red Eye has poetry open mic nights,” Arden began, “and as someone who enjoys poetry, I try to go sometimes. That particular night, I had a couple of drinks. Enough that I decided to participate, actually– a mistake because I fucking hate public speaking,” she admitted with a laugh.

“After, though, I got approached by someone, and we ended up talking for a while.” Ugh, she was feeling so nervous; she really wasn’t used to this. Any of it. Taking another drink, she decided to leave it at that, sure Zack would ask for more.

–

“A bit strange,” Zack echoed, incredulously. “More than a bit, if you asked me.” The mines, and all that came with them, were wholly unsettling to Zack. He had gotten as far as he had in life by being acutely aware of his surroundings. Any shift in the environment was something that could potentially set him off – or could be a clue that he had already been set off and it was time to start hunkering down. But with the mines seemingly making everything haywire, Zack was on edge. Any strange occurrence had him wondering whether it was him at the root cause or just that hunk of awful rock they lived right next to. “But hey, if you learn anything about it, let me know.”

Zack hadn’t know that about either the coffee shop or Arden. But he wasn’t too surprised. To Zack, poetry was for smart people, educated people, and Arden was maybe the smartest person he knew. “We’re putting a pin in the fact that you write poetry,” he commented, “definitely coming back to that one.” He imagined that it was probably like his sketches – not necessarily something Arden wanted to share. But maybe there was some that she would be okay with him reading. 

“Oooh,” Zack drawled, wide smile on his face. “So you’re telling me, basically, you wooed a woman with your poetry? Like some kind of Jane Austen lover or something?” Zack hadn’t read any Jane Austen, but that seemed like the kind of thing that would be in her books. “Did you just talk? What was she like? Was she pretty? Are you gonna see her again?” Zack was mostly teasing with the barrage of follow-up questions, but he did keep his eyes on Arden. Showing that he was listening, for as long as she was willing to talk. 

—

“Well, yeah,” Arden wavered. “But, you know what I mean. Besides, this town’s standard for weird is totally fucked anyway.” 

Most things she learned about Wicked’s Rest didn’t even surprise her at this point in her life. She didn’t know how to talk about the mining situation, though. She didn’t want to scare the average townsfolk, but this thing– whatever the fuck it was– with the mines frightened her. There was a delicate balance she needed to keep with her job, a balance between outright lies and total honesty– maintaining secrecy without minimizing the severity of the problem. It was difficult on a good day, but now? She knew just enough to know it was supernatural and bad, but she was as in the dark as everyone else about any kind of specifics. 

Taking another swig of beer, she nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed, “I’ll let you know.” As much as possible, at least. The last thing she needed was Zack getting dragged into whatever terrible thing was certainly going on. He had quickly become someone she could consider a friend– as much as was possible when your entire life feels like a series of facades– and she really didn’t want to see him get hurt. 

She paused as Zack ‘put a pin’ in her writing poetry. “Right, I guess you weren’t aware of that. I dunno,” she shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed, “I write a lot of shit, not just articles for work.”

Like some kind of Jane Austen lover or something? Arden snorted, her anxiety only contributing to the laughter bubbling out of her. Was she blushing? She fucking hoped not. “Well, when you put it that way, it does sound wild.” Thinking of that night, the smile melted away somewhat. “It wasn’t– It wasn’t exactly an upbeat kind of poem, but I guess something in it resonated with her.”

Her embarrassment only became more pronounced at his barrage of questions. This felt so juvenile. The last time she had done anything of this sort was– …well, it’d been a while. “Yes, it was just talking,” she shot him a glare, though there was no heat behind it. “There was flirting, and we kind of ended up paying for each other’s drinks.” She propped her head on a hand, looking pointedly away from Zack. “She was really sweet, fun. A little awkward, maybe? She seemed a little flustered by the flirting, but it was pretty adorable.” Arden hadn’t been much better, but that was not the point here. 

She snuck a peek over at Zack, only catching his eye in the process. Fucking hell, this was ridiculous. “I– I don’t know. I want to, and she seemed open to it.” But it was a bad idea. She would ruin it. Andy was yet another ray of sunshine, and she deserved so much more than Arden could ever give her, could give anyone, honestly. She chugged what remained of her beer, flagging down the bartender for another round.

—

“You can say that again,” Zack murmured into his glass of beer. His definition of weird on any given day had been shifted dramatically since arriving in Wicked’s Rest. And it had already been pretty skewed, after his whole flame-on situation. And he wasn’t specifically interested in the mines, beyond the hope that living as close to them as they did wouldn’t result in anything too fucked up. He only really wanted to learn more about this thing inside of him and how to maybe harness it, control it, to be sure he didn’t hurt anyone more. But with Wicked’s Rest particular flavor of weird, he wouldn’t be surprised if everything was connected, like the mines themselves under the town, like leylines passing through.

“Not wild,” Zack corrected. “Just…sweet. Maybe charming. Do the whole courting thing, ask her father for permission to take a stroll with her or whatever.” His head cocked and he wondered further about the poetry, about his roommate as a whole. If Arden’s poems were anything like his drawings, he could only imagine the deep-down hidden fears and shame she packed into them. “That’s cool, though. That she could relate. That’s a good starting off point, isn’t it?” Like Zack would really know. His longest relationship had been… Well. Fuck, maybe it was Levi which wasn’t even really a relationship. 

Zack felt a soft, genuine smile find his face as Arden talked more about the night, the girl. “You’re a little awkward too, you know,” he pointed out, but kindly. He liked Arden’s awkwardness. Made his own felt like less of a problem. He bet that was how the other girl had felt, too. “Sounds like she was into you, then.” 

Arden downed her drink and Zack could tell that she was uncomfortable with this line of questioning for some reason. Which wasn’t what he wanted. Sure, he wanted to tease her a little, but nothing that would actually hurt her feelings or leave her feeling badly. “So what’s not to know?” he asked, pitching his voice toward something more sincere. “It sounds like you really liked being with her, and talking to her. And like there might be a lot you two can relate on, if she was into your poetry and all.” Zack shrugged. 

—

Arden couldn’t help but laugh at his suggestion. “Yeah, I’ll ask her to take a turn around the promenade, go full Regency. We may need a chaperone, though,” she grinned, “we wouldn’t want to create a scandal now, would we?” Her mischievous demeanor began to abate as the conversation became more genuine. 

“I guess?” she shrugged, running a finger around the rim of her empty shot glass. “I don’t really have a ton of experience when it comes to relationships, to be honest.” it felt a little embarrassing to admit, but all of this was embarrassing anyway, why not double down? “I’ve only been in two, and neither of them lasted long.”

If she wasn’t flushed before, she surely was after Zack called her out on her awkwardness. She was ready to hit him with some fake outrage, so catching the fond look on his face really threw her. A sudden surge of emotion overtook her, settled in her throat in a way that made it difficult to speak for a second. “I know. Pretty sure we sounded like absolute disasters to anyone who might’ve been listening.”

Oh, she had downed that way too quickly, if Zack’s demeanor was anything to go by. Oops. His sincerity was another thing Arden admired about him, and yet another she was jealous of. Barely anything she did felt entirely sincere these days, and sometimes it made her yearn for days when the biggest things she had to worry about were tests and talking to friends about crushes. 

She propped her cheek up on her palm, looking at Zack. They’d been living together for nearly two months now, seeing each other almost every day. Even if he wasn’t exactly a trash raccoon, there was something about their personalities did just kind of click. She was too tired to spin some more bullshit, especially with him. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted. “I’m not good at any of it.” A chuckle bubbled out of her. “I mean, I’m pretty good with people; I can read them well, and I know how to play to my audience, get folks to talk. Hell, I’m even alright when it comes to flirting and flings and whatnot, but relationships?” She dropped her arm with a grimace. 

—

“Oh, I absolutely volunteer as chaperone,” Zack offered with a laugh. “And I promise to be the worst chaperone ever. I will absolutely wander off the path to have my own rendez-vous and leave the two of you to get scandalous.” Pitching his shoulders back, he preened a bit, for the joke. “I bet I would look good in one of those vests, and the hat.”

As Arden leveled with him, Zack could only nod. “Hey, I’m not one to talk. Definitely. My track record with relationships is even worse than yours.” Try nonexistent. “But I think it’s just…all the stuff you just described, but for a longer time period. I think as long as you’re talking about what you want and you both want the same things, and all. That’s the basis of it, right?” Sounded right, even if he himself had never put it into action. “And I guess that’s easier said than done, though.” Especially considering Arden’s self-proclaimed awkwardness. Being honest was always a hard step to take. Zack knew that from experience, at least.

Finishing his beer, Zack waves at the bartender, indicating another. He has some catching up to do, after all. “Do you… Like is that something you want? A relationship? Not necessarily with poetry girl but just in general?”

—

Arden snorted. “We’ll be the talk of the town; Mr. Banes the devilish rake and that poor ruined Han girl.” She rolled her eyes, a smirk on her face. “Okay, you’d probably rock the vest, but I don’t think anyone can make those hats look good, sorry. Not even the Bridgerton guy could, and he’s so hot it’s actually ridiculous.”

She tore her gaze away from the glass, looking up at him. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one, at least. She shrugged, eyes shifting to the bar around them. It was the first bar she’d ever gone to because the Wormhole was lazy when it came checking IDs. Sitting here, she still felt like a child somehow. “I guess so.” Easier said than done was certainly right, but she was here, having this conversation with him in the first place. That was something, right?

Poetry girl got a small smile out of her. “Andy,” she admitted, before quickly adding “and whatever you’re gonna say, put a pin in it for now.” She leveled a not-very-threatening look at him, finger raised as if to say ‘don’t start shit.’ But then her hand fell, as did the playfulness. “I don’t know.” She recalled the last time she had seen Nicole, that desperate ache of want that overtook her when she saw how Nicole had spoken about Leah, when she had seen how they looked at each other. “I think I do,” she said, looking down at the table. However, her past attempts had been absolute dumpster fires. I don’t know if I can, she didn’t dare say it out loud. 

The idea of getting so close to someone, of opening herself up to such an extent, it was, quite frankly, terrifying. She wasn't even sure who she was or what she was fucking doing. She was a bunch of facades stacked up in a trench coat. How could she expect someone to see what a mess she was and choose that, choose her? She barely felt worthy of Leah’s love or the affection of her new friends. How could she even ask someone to love her? 

“Do you?” Arden asked, meeting his gaze again. It was a genuine question, though it did have the added benefit of taking some of the heat off of her. She was curious to know more about who Zack was underneath the playful facade he so often defaulted to. 

—

Zack’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline. “Andy?” he asked, surprise clearly coloring his voice. But then Arden’s warning came and he raised his hands, palms splayed as if to declare that he came in peace. “Okay, okay. But let me just say. If you do end up dating her, I would love the possibility of even more free pastries.” 

He could tell that Arden’s confession came with no small amount of self-searching. And no small amount of doubt. “If it’s something you want, then it’s worth a try, I think.” His voice was saturated with sincerity, like it so often wasn’t between him and Arden. But it was important to him that his friend knew he was on her side for this, and wanted her to be happy. To get what she wanted out of life. “If you could end up really happy? I think that’s worth a try.”

The question turned back on himself, Zack found a laugh pressing out from his chest. “Do I? What? Want a relationship?” He spared himself from having to answer immediately by taking a long drink. Did he want a relationship? Sure, maybe. One day. He wasn’t exactly sure what his version of a relationship would look like, even, to be fulfilling. He had been on his own, in most aspects of life, for so long. He wasn’t exactly sure how to share his life. He could see the benefits, though. Like Levi nursing him through his injury, texting to make sure he got what Zack wanted from the store. That was…nice. 

“No,” Zack answered, finally, voice clear. No matter what he wanted, he didn’t really have room for a relationship, right now. Navigating something like that, for the first time, wasn’t something he thought he had the bandwidth for. Not alongside trying to figure out what exactly he was and how it fit into everything else that seemed to be happening in Wicked’s Rest. 

And then there was the Levi of everything to consider. “Besides, the guy I’m…sleeping with. I don’t think he’s the relationship type.” He hesitated to only call it that, sleeping with, but there wasn’t really a word for sleeping with and a little bit more but not a real relationship. Sleeping with but also he saved my life and paid off my medical bills and took care of me for a week. Sleeping with but he’s also sleeping with maybe half the town as well. Sleeping with but he’s also taking me to Greece maybe though I’m not entirely convinced that’s not just a joke.

—

She rolled her eyes at the pastry comment, but before she could say anything, he continued to talk. Annoyingly, he had a point. “You’re right,” she sighed. “I know you’re right.” But she was scared, and she had been pushing herself constantly since coming back to town. The fact that she had gone to the Red Eye and read her poetry that night? That had taken a lot out of her. It did lead to her meeting Andy, though. 

So far, taking chances had been working out pretty well for Arden. If only that fact could help calm the fear that wrapped itself like a hand around her neck, her heart. Years of running away and refusing to process her grief or be vulnerable didn’t just go away overnight. She was trying so hard to do things differently, but there was still a part of her that just wanted to take Hobbes and go back to Boston, maybe Philadelphia. “We’ll see what happens, I guess.” 

Arden couldn’t quite read Zack’s laughter. Nerves? Disbelief? “Yeah,” she confirmed as he took a long drink. He was clearly mulling it over as he stalled, though his face didn’t give much away. She didn’t mind giving him some time if he needed it, but she didn’t want to push him to talk about it if he wasn’t comfortable doing so. And she was about to tell him just that when he finally replied. 

The ‘no’ was a bit lessened by the addition about the guy he was sleeping with. Zack was accidentally telling on himself there; he’d clearly at least considered the possibility of having a relationship with this guy. “Is that the guy you’ve been flirting with on main?” She tried to keep her tone light but cautious. He had been a little cagey about it when she’d brought it up before, and she didn’t want to poke at the issue and upset him, but Arden’s curiosity had been piqued. 

—

“Of course I’m right.” Zack gave a cocky scoff. But his features softened quickly and he leaned to the side, nudging Arden’s shoulder with his own. “Hey, no pressure. Not from me, at least. I just think the short-term discomfort of being awkward and a little afraid is worth what could be long-term happiness. Or at least long-term regular orgasms.” His last comment was mostly in the hopes of getting her to laugh more than anything else. 

He wouldn’t blame Arden if she ended up falling back into her comfort zone of not shooting her shot. Couldn’t blame her. While Zack could easily seal the deal of asking someone out, asking them to bed, anything more than that was…trickier. Short-term fear was not as easy a hurdle to overcome as he suggested to Arden.

At Arden’s further question, Zack’s nose wrinkled. Once more, he stalled with a drink from his glass. “Yeah. That’s… Yes. He’s the one who helped me out when…” Zack waved a hand down at his leg to indicate the attack and injury. “That’s where I was, at his house. But it’s not– I mean, it’s more than just flirting, obviously, but.” But they weren’t exchanging poems at a coffee house or anything. Zack would, though, was the thing. Metaphorically, at least. 

Being around Levi was just nice in a way that was unfamiliar to Zack. He cared about Zack, Zack knew that much. He just wasn’t entirely sure to what extent. Or how far Levi would be willing to explore that care. And Zack was sure that he was more invested, anyway (because how could this ancient quasi-deity who had seen most of its partners live and die be interested in…playing house), and that meant that he had to be careful. Play it cool. “It’s just a little…nontraditional.” That explanation made him grin. Yeah, nontraditional for sure. 

—

She rolled her eyes again, as she often did in Zack’s presence. She got enough of this shit from Leah, she did not need it from anyone else, thanks. But it was Zack, so, of course, he was legally obligated to be nice and follow up with some stupid joke before things got too genuine. It was the routine they had quickly fallen into as friends and roommates, and it was one Arden enjoyed, one she was familiar with from the years of keeping people at a distance. They had definitely become closer than she had allowed others in the past, though. With a snort, she shook her head. “You’re insufferable.”

She forced herself to keep her face as neutral as possible, though she couldn’t stop an eyebrow from going up. Interesting. She had known he was staying with a friend, and the thought had certainly crossed her mind, but that was significant– taking care of someone after they were injured. It wasn’t even like Zack lived alone or anything; Arden would’ve helped him out if he had come home after getting out of the hospital, knew Wynne and Sully would have done the same. Zack seemed pretty uncomfortable talking about it, though, so she would keep her thoughts to herself. …for now, at least. “Sounds it,” she grinned. “Glad he’s nice, at least, even if it is just a casual thing. You deserve that.” Offering him a sincere smile, she decided to change the topic

“Anyway,” she drew out the word, “I don’t know about you, but I’m still not over being forced to watch Cats. I don’t even– Was that a real movie? Were we high on something? What was that?” The easy smile back on her face, she leaned back in her seat, sipping her beer. “I love Sully, but what the fuck?” 

[gazrgaley]

A Day at the park (chapter 14)

She didn’t know how long she’d been walking. Her mind was twisted up in her past and present. Some small part of her tried to convince herself that there was nothing wrong with Milo, that it had all been in her head. At least that would have made more sense.

The memories were so vivid. It felt as though it had all taken place only a few hours ago. She could feel the bruises working their way back into her bones, feel her skin torn and bloodied. She was being watched. Followed. Why had she left? Why was she wandering the streets at night? She should have stayed at home… but she knew home wouldn’t save her from the eyes upon her.

***

Milo kept on her trail, a few blocks down and a few streets over. She was in a fragile state. He couldn’t get too close. She would need her space until the memories passed.

He couldn’t leave her on her own, either. It was his fault that those memories had resurfaced. He had to keep an eye on her, even if the eye was that of a rat watching her from behind a crate or a sparrow half-asleep beneath a gutter.

“What do you want?”

Her words echoed in his head. What did he want? He wasn’t sure. He knew he liked spending time with her. Had it all gone to ruin? He released his hold on the city’s little eyes and held his head in his hands. He’d lost her. More importantly, he still cared about her. Why did he care?

There was a short, sharp cry in the distance, and a heavy, meaty thud.

Isabel.

He was there in a blink, racing down the alleys too fast to see. She sat against a wall with her hands clasped over her mouth. “Are you alright?” he asked. “What happened, Isabel?”

She stared up at him in horror. Charcoal streaked down along her cheekbones. Her pristine white gloves were stained with blood. She swallowed and parted her trembling lips. “I thought he was following me.”

Only then did he notice the body. His head was bloodied, pooling. He was dead, or would be in moments. Milo gave him a moment’s consideration, then turned away. “Are you alright?” he asked again.

“I thought he was…” She choked on the words and wept into her hands.

“If he tried to hurt you,” Milo said, crouching beside her, “then you had every right to do that. 

She shook her head wildly, tossing loose curls free. “I don’t think he was! I just…”

Milo looked up and down the street. No one was around to hear but the two of them. He grabbed the body in one hand and Isabel in the other, pulling them back into the shadows. 

Isabel’s legs collapsed beneath her and she fell to the alley floor, curled up and quivering. Her tears had dried up, and she dried her cheeks with Milo’s offered kerchief. Finally she looked to him, not meeting his eyes. “Why are you here?” she asked. Her voice was as hollow as she felt.

He stood over the body, guarding it or perhaps guarding her from it. “I was worried about you,” he said. His hesitation was plain in his words. “But, clearly, you can take care of yourself.” He took a seat next to her and looked to the mouth of the alley, toward the possibility of passersby.

She was quickly starting to look like herself once more. The troubles of her past had gone to the background, pushed aside by those of the present. She returned his kerchief and watched the street with him.

“I’m…” He wanted to apologize, but the word seemed to stick in his throat.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, straight to the point as usual. “I need to think.” She had a body in need of disposing.

“I was wrong about you, Isabel.”

She finally turned to face him, anger and confusion breaking through her despair. “Wrong about what?”

Milo cleared his throat. “About you,” he said finally. “I… like having you around. Spending time with you makes me happy. I’m going to be… unhappy… when you are no longer in my life.”

Her anger was fanned into fury. “I just killed someone,” she hissed, “and you’re talking about love? Are you out of your mind? If I can’t cover this up, no one will be seeing any of me!” She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall. “If you’re so concerned about spending time together, you can help me with this damn body.”

To her surprise, he only nodded. “I could do that.” He stood and extended a hand to help her up. 

She almost laughed as she reached up to him. Of course he would take it in stride. If what he said was true, he had surely hidden more bodies than she could imagine. Dozens or more, maybe.

Milo brushed a strand of hair out of her face. She seemed almost like herself again, aside from her hair flowing loose and the blood on her hands. “We’ll take the body to the woods,” he said. “That is our best chance.”

“The woods?” Isabel said incredulously. “We can’t drag this thing the whole way out of town. Someone will see us!”

He smiled and raised his hand. “They won’t,” he said confidently. The shadows around him seemed to darken. The muffled sounds of the city faded to a muted hum. Night filled the alley like a heavy mist.

She squeezed his hand without thinking. She didn’t notice that she hadn’t let go.  “Are you ready?” Milo asked softly.

Isabel nodded. Together, with the body in Milo’s grasp, they left the alley.

***

The air between them was heavy with unease. Neither spoke. It was only when Milo stopped, looked around, and nodded to himself that Isabel cleared her throat. “Do we need to dig a hole?” she asked. “We don’t have any tools.” She looked down at her gloved hand, clad in white and red. “I’m not using my hands.”

Milo dropped the body to the earth. “There are many easier ways to dispose of the dead. I prefer the methods that mean less work for me.” He positioned the body just so, then led Isabel away to a tree a few feet away. “Be ready,” he said.

“For what?” There was a burst of wind, and then she nearly screamed aloud as she found herself sitting with Milo upon the lower branches of the tree. She grasped him tightly as she looked down to the forest floor below. “How did we—”

Milo put his finger to his lips. He kept his eyes fixed in front of him… His slitted, golden eyes. That was low on her list of questions for the night. She watched him for a moment, then turned toward the spot he was watching. Before she gathered the courage to ask, a pair of wolves rounded either side of a tree trunk and made their way toward the body.

“You see,” Milo said in a hushed tone as the rest of their pack followed, “I have the ability to see through the eyes of others, including animals. I can also get into their thoughts. Fresh, warm meat is always appealing to creatures such as this.”

The first bite ripped through the forest air, loud in Isabel’s ears. She buried her head in his side. It wasn’t her fault; she was only human, after all. Milo couldn’t help but feel, though, that it was a bad sign. Tonight she used him for comfort, but what about tomorrow? Would he only ever be the man who had given her the worst night of her life? If that was to be the case, he would do his best to make his memories of her into happy ones.

“You know, Isabel…” He idly stroked her hair. “There is talk that you kill anyone who gets in your way. I have heard rumors of mysterious deaths surrounding your brothel. Are you sure this was your first?”

He meant it in jest, and she knew it. “I have no idea where those allegations came from,” she said, “but if it protects my girls I will not stop anyone from saying it. Perhaps they are the work of my husband.”

That tugged on his heart in a way that left him confused. It had been thousands of years since he’d last experienced jealousy. “It seems he still cares for you.”

She began to laugh, a sound of sorrow more than delight. “He may be in America, but he still has a reputation here in our homeland, and he still wants people to think they have to fear him. It has nothing to do with me.” He felt her arm snake around his waist as she squeezed closer. Any reservations she’d had about the body below had disappeared; she was watching the wolves work with disinterest. “Besides, if I start losing money, so does he. We have an arrangement; I send him money, and he stays away.”

Milo nodded. “Perhaps not, then.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to think about him,” she said. “Not tonight, anyway.”

Without fully understanding why, he extended his free hand and flicked his fingers. A spark erupted from his fingertips and grew into a flame upon his palm. Isabel watched it in quiet fascination. With her makeup wiped away he could clearly see the scars and patches of color upon her skin. The flickering light enhanced each imperfection. He could understand why she felt the need to cover her face, but in his eyes they only made her more beautiful. She had been through so much, and was so strong. It was a shame this would be the last time he saw it.

[silversatoru]

step-dad nanami + brat taming 😼?

dark content event!!!

yes yes yes yes yes yes yesyyesysyesy mmm so good mm very tasty idea ily and i got very carried away

nanami + brat taming

tw: nsfw 18+, f!reader, psuedocest (nanami is your step-dad), brat-taming, noncon/dubcon, impact play, power imbalance, mild size kink?, manhandling, fingering, nanami said fuck jujutsu and is a very rich business man au

wc: 1.7k

you knew your mother’s new fiancé was a moderately successful business man, but you certainly weren’t expecting to pull up to a security gate on the day that you moved in with him. a large house constructed with dark-colored bricks loomed over your mom’s dented toyota prius, and you wondered what the hell one lonely man needed all this space for.

the white-haired butler that opened the front door and offered to carry some of your bags seemed nice enough, but you couldn’t help but scoff at the entire situation. walking onto the pristine and shiny floors in your scuffed up sneakers made you wonder just how your mom had managed to gold-dig her way into this one. either she was terribly convincing, or this guy was horribly desperate — either way you weren’t opposed to reaping the benefits. a butler, a giant in-ground pool, a bedroom that was three times the size of your old one?

yeah, you’d settle in real quick.

and you did just that, taking whatever you wanted and not feeling a shred of guilt for it. this guy, nanami kento, had more than enough money to go around, so why shouldn’t you indulge yourself? why shouldn’t you throw unsolicited pool parties while they’re at work? invite boys over to spend time in your king sized bed? your mom forced you out of your hometown to move in with this rich asshole, might as well make the most of it.

and things were going pretty fucking smoothly if you do say so yourself, or at least they were until nanami caught you sneaking a boy through your window one night.

you thought your were so smart, so slick with the way that you used his house as your personal playground behind his back. but why would he own such an esteemed property and not have security cameras? you weren’t smart at all, in fact you were incredibly, incredibly stupid.

and you’ve been getting on nanami’s nerves for a while, sashaying around the house in tiny outfits surrounded by a horde of immature boys. he’d watch you through the security footage while he worked — blood boiling at the way you flaunted his home as if it were your own.

those boys were never going to be enough for you; you’d walk all over them with your inflated ego and terrible attitude. you needed a man, someone grown, who could put your back in your place — you needed nanami — and fuck, he’d wanted you since the day you walked through his front door. he’d been patient, very patient, but this was enough to snap the thin wire that was holding him back.

he didn’t hesitate to kick the boy right back out the window he climbed through, threatening to call the cops if he didn’t leave his fucking property right now. and then a firm hand was wrapped around your wrist, dragging you up the stairs and into his bedroom.

he gave your arm a harsh tug, tossing your body towards his large neatly made bed. the edge of the raised mattress whacked you in the gut, your face falling forward and mashing into the silky comforter.

“what the fu-,” you snapped your head back to look at him, but were immediately met with a rolled up black sock being shoved into the back of your mouth.

you coughed and whined through the fabric as he grasped both your wrists in his one large hand, his other weaving the leather belt that was previously looped through his trousers around your wrists. he had zero patience for you right now, and he was making that evidently clear.

“i’ve tried to stay patient with you, but you’ve forced my hand this time,” he looked at you with dark eyes, one of his hands undoing the zipper at the back of your skirt.

you tried to kick with your legs, tried to cuss him out through the sock, but it was entirely ineffective, his strong hands holding you down and the cotton preventing a single coherent word from leaving your lips. your skirt was gliding to your feet now, your bare ass exposed and looking nanami right in the eyes.

“sneaking in another boy? how many times should i spank you for that? five? ten? i think ten would be suitable in this situation,” he used one hand to keep you pinned to the mattress, and the other to caress the smooth skin of your upper thigh, “what do you think?”

obviously you tried to reason with him, tell him that you didn’t deserve any spanks, that you weren’t a child, that this whole thing was fucking weird — but none of that made it out of your mouth, not through the soggy sock that was still in your way.

“i’m glad you agree, ten it is,” he gave you a thoughtful look, raising up his hand in preparation to strike you for the first time.

“one”.

his hand swung down with incredible force, a piercing smacking sound echoing through the room as you squealed and kicked under his touch. it felt like a thousand pins piercing through your skin, a blazing fire that burned through his fingers and straight through to your brain.

“two”.

the second smack was brought down with even more strength, your whole body lurching in response to the impact. you still kicked, still fought, still screamed through gag for him to fuck off, but a small part of you was already anticipating number three.

“three”.

the third strike to your backside flipped a switch in your brain, your legs falling limp and your screams replaced with pitiful whimpers and whines. his hand on your skin was starting to hurt so good, bits of the sock becoming trapped in your clenched teeth.

four, five, and six came quickly after, only a few seconds of rest between each of them — and nanami knew that he’d won when your feet began to push up onto your tip-toes, your ass wiggling closer to him as you waited for more.

“you count the next ones,” he reached forward and plucked the disgusting sock out of your mouth, tossing it to the floor and caressing your cheek.

seven came down hard, goosebumps lining your arms as you yelped; your tied up hands grasping at air. a shameful “seven”, rolled from your tongue a few moments later, your shaky voice flooding nanami’s ears.

“good girl,” he cooed, “three more”.

the next three stung the worst, nanami hissing at how badly it hurt his own hand — but your were a lightheaded, dizzy mess; practically drooling on his sheets by the time he was done. you’d done exactly what he asked, taken all ten and even counted out the last four — you were so good for him, and it was so easy.

he helped you roll over onto your back and then slipped his hand under the waistband of your panties, pulling and letting them fall down to your ankles. you’d taken the punishment pretty well, so it was only fair that you were rewarded now.

he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, one of his hands pressing down onto your puffy clit. you knew how inappropriate this was all becoming, but your head was much too hazy to care.

he dipped two of his fingers low, slipping them into your slimy cunt and gently pushing them up inside you. his fingers were long, a sharp whimper flying through your teeth as he curled his fingers against your walls.

what the hell would happen if your mom got home right now? if she saw her soon-to-be husband fist-deep in her daughter?

those were the things you should have been thinking, but they didn’t cross your mind once. how could you care about the what if’s when nanami was stuffing you full with his thick fingers on one hand, and expertly massaging your clit with the other.

no one your age had this experience, and none of the boys you’d messed with had ever made you feel this good with such little effort. nanami was opening your eyes to his expert hands, and you began to wonder how many sorry brats had ended up in this exact spot before. maybe this is what he did for fun — romancing middle-aged women just to prey on their college-aged daughters until they inevitably get caught one day — and then the cycle continues.

but right now, on the edge of losing yourself around his fingers, you didn’t care if you were the hundredth step-daughter he’d done this to — it was worth it.

your walls clamped around his fingers as he thrusted them deeper, his other thumb rubbing hard and consistent circles over your sensitive nub. it was impossible to hold out any longer, the ball in your stomach flying undone as you rolled your hips into his hand and creamed all over his fingers. the room was filled with the prettiest mewls and whines, your body shaking and lurching as he kept feeling you even after your orgasm was fading.

only once you accidentally kicked him from the intensity of the overstimulation did he unsheath his fingers from your cunt, his skin glistening with your fluids. he shoved them into your mouth, your eyes widening as he offered a simple: “suck”.

but you did what you were told, you’d quickly learned that disobeying him would only lead to something worse. he smirked for the first time after he plucked them from your mouth, your lips making a satisfying popping sound.

“never gonna invite those boys over again, right?” he taunted you, an obvious bulge sitting in his dress pants.

you quickly shook your head no.

but if breaking the rules meant this would happen again?

you’d be breaking them every goddamn day.

[starryhyuck]

danger. (m)

pairing: alpha!johnny x omega!reader x alpha!jaehyun

words: 2.5k+

summary: your mother has always warned you about the dangers of an alpha. she never realized how lethal two of them were.

genre: smut

warnings: dom!johnny, dom!jaehyun, double penetration, knotting, creampies, multiple orgasms, manhandling, the reader is basically johnjae’s personal whore

For over ten years, the existence of omegas have become nearly extinct.

Alphas have been forced to settle with betas who have not yet presented themselves, causing massive displeasure across many households worldwide. The decline of omegas was due to the careless possessiveness of an alpha, driving most of these creatures to murder their omega out of pure rage. Since the body counts of omegas began increasing, very few betas have stepped out to present themselves as omegas. In fact, many betas have gone missing.

Your parents were an alpha-omega pairing, up until your father attempted to murder your mother after spotting her chatting with a male co-worker. Luckily, your mother was able to escape with you before she lost her life.

You’ve both lived in seclusion since then, rarely going out in fear that another alpha would mark his claim. The only person you’ve ever been spoken with was your mother, and most of her stories of the haunting alphas who would kill you at first sight were honestly boring you to death already. Once you had reached the age where your sexual desires were beginning to take over any competent part of your mind, you began taking more and more risks.

It was quite easy for alphas to sense when an omega was near — the mere scent alone could send a frenzy in a crowded area. Your mother drew up maps to avoid any alpha infested areas, and the both of you frequented beta hangouts with no issue.

One evening, you were desiring a drink at one of the beta owned clubs down the street. You were celebrating a surge of customers that flooded into your self-owned business, feeling the heavy weight of cash in your pockets. Working from home meant celebrating victories alone, and tonight, you wanted a different change of scenery. The club was packed with betas who danced happily with one another, which you assume was because of the lack of alphas. Too many alphas in a crowded place presented a huge issue in terms of dominance. Their instincts drove them to physical fights if they felt other alphas were trying to claim territory.

You’re lucky that there aren’t any alphas present tonight, knowing your fate if there was. You slide onto one of the barstools, grinning happily at the bartender.

Taeil laughs. “Good day at work?”

“The best,” you smile. “Can you whip up something to take my mind off of things?”

He nods before grabbing a concoction of different alcoholic beverages and mixing them together. You sip happily at his creation when you feel a warm body spin towards you.

You’re taken aback by the handsome man in front of you, eyes sparkling and dimples appearing. If you weren’t so certain that everyone in this club was a beta, you would immediately assume the man in front of you was an alpha. His smile puts your mind at ease.

“Haven’t seen you here before. Celebrating something?”

You grin flirtatiously at him. Your mother never warned you about handsome betas, after all.

“A good day at work. Treating myself to a nice night out.”

He hums lowly, and the sound shoots straight to your core. His fingers tap his glass full of whiskey, chuckling to himself.

“Sounds nice. Just enjoying the evening by yourself?”

You could hear the implication in his tone and if anything, it just made you more wet. You gulp down another taste of Taeil’s unknown mixed drink, rubbing your thighs together to try and gain some friction.

“It’s how I usually spend my evenings. Although, I’m not opposed to spending it with a partner.”

He grins. There’s something about his smile — something so minuscule that you feel as if you’re missing some part of this equation. The man swallows the rest of his drink before slamming his glass back down on the counter.

“My place is only a few blocks away, if you’re up for it.”

You were definitely up for it. You both stumble to Jaehyun’s apartment, learning his name along the way as you enjoy the way yours sounds rolling off of his tongue. Everything seems perfectly fine until he locks his front door.

Then, your omega can sense it. Danger.

Jaehyun chuckles, but this time, it doesn’t send the feeling of warmth through your heart.

“Silly omegas. So gullible.”

There’s a ringing sound in your ears. All you can think about is your mother, and how impossibly right she was about alphas.

“Y-You c-c-can’t be-“

“I can’t be an alpha?” He smiles mischievously, circling your body in the middle of his hallway. “I’ve gotten good at hiding my identity ever since I discovered omegas were only comfortable around betas. I spent months visiting that bar, hoping to catch a vulnerable omega in need of her alpha.”

“I-I don’t need an alpha.”

Then, there’s another laugh that echoes the room, and it’s not Jaehyun’s. A taller man steps out from the shadows, smirking at the sight of you.

“It’s not nice to play with food, Jaehyun. They get too talkative.”

Jaehyun laughs dangerously close to your ear. “But she’s so sweet, Johnny. Haven’t seen one this pliant in a while.”

Jaehyun’s hand slides up your arm as his body presses against your back. You jump at the sudden contact. His touch ignites something within you, a deep feeling of lust building in your stomach.

“Can you feel that, baby? That’s what it’s like to be touched by an alpha.”

Suddenly, the nerves that were engulfing your mind before were gone, only filled with the urge to submit to your alpha. Your eyes roam to Johnny’s figure, who’s been observing the both of you this entire time, eyes swimming with lust.

It was rare for two alphas to get along, especially when it came to omegas. Their quest for dominance and protection usually overrides anything else, and similar goals shared with other alphas caused them to clash. Johnny, however, did not seem the least bit perturbed when Jaehyun’s hands began roaming the expanse of your body.

“Never been touched before, have you?” Johnny smirks.

You shudder when Jaehyun begins pressing kisses onto your neck. “N-No, alpha.”

He smiles. “Looks like she’s learned her place.”

“Deserves a reward, don’t you think?” Jaehyun questions, gazing at Johnny with the ask for permission.

He nods once, and before you know it, you’re being pulled into a bedroom and shoved face down on the mattress. You whimper, feeling your underwear dampen when Jaehyun’s hands roughly grip your hips. Your fingers tighten around his sheets, breathing in his scent. You don’t even know where Johnny has gone but Jaehyun makes sure he has all of your attention.

“Look at you,” he chuckles darkly. “Just in the right position to breed your little hole.”

You’ve lost all dignity at this point — your mother’s warnings becoming a distant whisper. Jaehyun pushes you farther down until your back aches from the arch, ass high up in the air for everyone to see.

“Want to go first?”

You know Jaehyun’s no longer speaking to you, and you assume Johnny’s decided to join. His presence causes you to grow wetter, which you didn’t think was possible at this point.

“Depends. Are we letting this one live?”

Then, the fear strikes through your heart once again. You’re suddenly reminded of your mother’s words as you struggle to breathe. You’ve heard stories before of omegas being found on the streets, necks sliced open with blood surrounding their bodies.

Jaehyun and Johnny continue to converse as if you’re not even there. You wonder if you can escape in one piece before they get a chance to maul you.

“Doesn’t seem so bad this time. Looks like she’s never taken one before.”

“You know that for sure?”

You feel someone grip a handful of your hair and pull you up so you can make eye contact with him. Jaehyun grins at the terror swarming your eyes.

“Tell me, little omega. Have you taken another alpha’s knot before?”

You’re not even sure what that is. Your mother left you clueless on all basics of sex, especially when it came to alphas.

“A-A what?”

Johnny laughs. “You can go first, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun shoves your face back into the mattress and situates himself behind you. Your fear is once again taken over by arousal, and Jaehyun snickers at your predicament. You jump when he runs his finger over your clothed core, practically dripping down your thighs. You cry out when two fingers dip inside of your sopping hole, the squelch of your wetness echoing throughout the room.

“I think our little omega hasn’t taken a cock inside of her yet, not even from a beta,” Jaehyun comments. You’re blinded, not knowing what’s coming next as tears blur your vision.

“Why don’t you show her what it’s like, Jae?”

“My pleasure.”

A loud tearing sound echoes throughout the room and you realize that Jaehyun’s just torn your underwear in half, tossing it across the room while he flips up your skirt. You whine when his hand slams down on your right cheek before he soothes the sensation with his fingers.

“Let me hear you, omega. I want to know how much you need this.”

And as much as your head is screaming that you are in imminent danger, the words come tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“P-Please alpha, I n-need you.”

“Do you now? How much?”

You grit your teeth at his endless teasing. You just want to be fucked already, but your instincts are telling you that you shouldn’t disobey your alpha.

“So m-much. I’m so wet for you, alpha, please.”

Johnny chuckles. “She can be good when she wants to be, huh?”

“Looks like it.”

He sinks into you and it’s the biggest stretch of your life. You release a flurry of garbled noises as Jaehyun impales you with his cock, the sheer size of him tearing you in half. You gasp when an unknown feeling of pleasure overtakes your body — so strong and violent that you nearly collapse.

“Wow. She came already, such a pliant little doll. Why don’t you shut her up, Johnny?”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Another fist tangles in your hair and your jerked up again, locking eyes with Johnny’s dark orbs. He smirks at your fucked out state, hand jerking his cock as he watches you. He nudges the tip against your mouth and you obey, parting your lips to take his cock.

“See? Such a good little whore for us already,” Johnny remarks, hands still tangled in your hair when he begins thrusting into your mouth. You choke, trying to loosen your jaw.

All coherent thoughts are thrown out the window when Jaehyun starts fucking you into the mattress. You gasp, Johnny’s cock falling from your mouth as you try to catch your breath. He isn’t pleased, nails digging into your scalp.

“Suck my cock. You need to learn how to take the both of us.”

He pushes himself back into your mouth, ignoring your whimpers as Jaehyun pistons in and out of you. “Fuck,” he grunts. “She’s so fucking wet.”

You shudder when another orgasm passes through you, clenching down on Jaehyun’s cock and moaning when he continues to fuck you ruthlessly. Drool begins to pool at the sides of your mouth as Johnny rams his cock down your throat.

“You like this, don’t you?” Johnny teases, observing as you struggle to swallow him. “Never been fucked before and yet, you’re taking two cocks at once because you’re so desperate.”

“Fuck, Johnny, you need to get under her. I’m gonna cum soon.”

Johnny finally lets you breathe, retracting from you while you pant, trying to catch your breath. You barely get a chance before Jaehyun is slipping out of you with Johnny manhandling you into a new position. Your muscles are pleading for you to stop, but your mind is fuzzy when Johnny slides underneath you, your back to his chest. Jaehyun positions himself above you once again, his cock slick with your combined juices. You feel Johnny prod against your other hole and you gasp.

He laughs darkly against your ear, the sound vibrating to your core. “Didn’t I say you had to learn how to take both of us?”

Jaehyun pushes a finger inside of you again, collecting your juices from your two orgasms before inserting it into your other hole. You cry at the intrusion. Even though you’ve never been taken like this before, it feels exhilarating.

“She’s ready for you.”

You want to protest that you clearly are not, only being stretched out by one of Jaehyun’s fingers. They both ignore you, lining up to your entrances and pushing in slowly.

You think that the searing pain will fill your senses shortly, but you take them surprisingly well.

Johnny whispers lowly. “Why are you so shocked? A little omega like you was born to take her alphas.”

You learn quickly that Johnny is filthier than Jaehyun, hissing profanities into your ear as his cock thrusts up into your tiny hole.

“Look at how much Jaehyun’s enjoying your tight little pussy,” he says, your eyes following his line of vision. Jaehyun’s eyes are closed, fingers digging into your hips as he indulges himself in you. “Has no idea how good your ass feels. You’re in for a treat, baby. Two knots in one day? It’s an omega’s sweetest dream.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure of their thrusts taking a toll on your train of thought. You think you have another orgasm but you’re not sure, the nonstop pleasure clouding your judgment.

“Fuck. Gonna knot your sweet pussy,” Jaehyun grunts, cock pushing harder and deeper inside of you.

“I’m close too,” Johnny smiles against the shell of your ear. “Ready, baby?”

You don’t have time to respond before Jaehyun spills inside of you, ribbons of white coating your insides. Johnny hisses and follows after, emptying out inside your ass. Minutes pass and they’re both still cumming, most of it dripping out of your holes and coating the sheets. You think it’s over but you nearly scream when you feel their cocks grow bigger, the girth stretching your holes farther and farther.

“Please, please,” you whimper, trying to reach for Jaehyun. You don’t even realize you’re convulsing again, cumming around Jaehyun while his knot continues to grow.

He laughs. “She likes being filled to the brim, Johnny.”

“I can tell. Her cute little ass is squeezing my cock so hard.”

It feels like hours pass until they finally deflate, their cocks returning to their normal sizes. They stay buried inside of you, Jaehyun groaning as he collapses next to you. Johnny moves you to your side so that you’re stuck between them.

You’re still struggling to catch your breath when Johnny sighs.

“We should keep this one. A lot tighter than the other ones.”

Jaehyun nods, eyes fluttering closed. His fingers slither around your waist to pull you closer to his frame.

“Sounds good. I like her cute noises.”

Johnny huffs before leaning closer to you. “What do you say, little omega? Want to run home?”

You ponder over your answer for a few minutes before Johnny grows impatient, taking an experimental thrust. You whimper when you realize he’s already hard again.

“Answer me,” he growls.

“N-No, alpha. I’ll stay.”

“Good girl.”

And you lay there, gasping for breath as your alphas fuck you until the sun rises.

[tsukishumai]

Love Galore

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f!reader x bokuto kotaro

chapter summary; bokuto and kuroo finally get the chance to sit down and talk

wc; 1.3k

CHAPTER 9.5 ✧ CURRY

Bokuto hadn’t been home in two days.

The heated words Akaashi so casually tossed his way had been simmering in his mind incessantly, severely fighting the urge to fling himself out the window every time he remembered his outburst in your living room.

Hikari had been too excited at the prospect of having Bokuto practically begging her to let him stay over to notice his current preoccupation — never once stopping to wonder why Bokuto had barely spoken his entire stay.

So you had feelings from. Had feelings. For him. Had.

The sudden realization had stung his every nerve, leaving him paralyzed as he continued to recount every single interaction you’ve ever had with him in a continuous loop within his mind.

When he told you he only applied to the colleges you did so he could stick by your side for a few more years, did you cry because you loved him then?

Did you love him whenever he’d drink a little too much during a night out, and you’d be stuck taking care of him as he threw his guts out into a toilet?

If you loved him, why did you always keep him at arm's length, stiffening up whenever he’d try to pull you in close, stepping far away if he’d wrap you up in his arms?

Did you love him when he would visit you in between classes with a snack and a drink because he wanted to make sure you weren’t starving yourself throughout the day?

Did you love him when he told Hikari that he sees you as a sister?

If you loved him, why would you tell him to date Hikari?

If he realized sooner, done things a little differently — would he be spending his nights at your apartment instead of hers?

Is he really that big of an idiot?

Bokuto’s head was about to explode. His groan echoed along the empty walls of his building’s hallway, staring blankly at the silver numbers nailed onto the door he’d been too nervous to return to for days.

As he inserts his key and unlocks his door, he sighed deeply to himself, wondering how he was going to tackle his next issue.

Kuroo’s shoes were in the genkan. Placed neatly to the side as usual, and Bokuto could already feel his palms begin to sweat. He calls out a greeting to an empty living room, looking around curiously for his missing roommate.

He hears the shower running when he walks down the hallway, his shoulders slightly sagging in relief as he retreats into his bedroom. He deposits his bags haphazardly into a corner, and quickly changes out of his street clothes.

The shower was off by the time he exits his room, but Kuroo was still nowhere to be found. Almost cautiously, Bokuto tiptoes himself down the hallway and into his kitchen, unable to ignore the grumbling in his stomach that had been paining him for the last two hours.

To his surprise, he finds a silver pot resting on the stove, and his rice cooker’s power button was glowing red from its position on the counter.

He walks over excitedly, quickly lifting the lid to discover curry still lightly steaming.

“I just made that an hour ago,” Kuroo’s voice makes Bokuto jump, turning around with his hands clutched to his chest.

“Shit, you scared me,” Bokuto breathes out a chuckle, and Kuroo smiles at him sheepishly.

“My bad,” Kuroo replies, then he gestures to the stove, “But I ate already, so have as much as you want.”

Bokuto’s hunger makes him forget his initial apprehension of encountering his roommate. He swiftly grabs a bowl from the cabinet, and loads it to the brim with rice and curry.

“Since when did you know how to cook,” Bokuto jokes as he takes a seat at the dining table. Kuroo just laughs dryly, and Bokuto eyes him strangely when he takes the empty seat across from him.

“I, uh… well, Y/N taught me how to make that,” Kuroo doesn’t look at Bokuto when he speaks, and Bokuto’s chopsticks stilled in mid-air for a split second.

“Ah, I see,” Bokuto tries to sound casual, attempting to maintain a light atmosphere, “That explains why it’s actually edible.”

Bokuto continues to shovel food in his mouth, afraid of saying anything else. The curry was actually delicious, Bokuto regretfully admits. Did you help Kuroo cook this in his kitchen? He doesn’t think he’s ever even stepped foot in a kitchen with y—

“I like her.”

This time, Bokuto’s chopstick clatter into his bowl.

Kuroo had said his words loud and clear, his tone sharp and demanding, as if to make sure there was absolutely no miscommunication.

Bokuto doesn’t say anything. His mouth hung open, and he could feel grains of rice sticking to the corners of his mouth. Kuroo sits across from him with his arms crossed on the table, his gaze unwavering as he stares at Bokuto with an unreadable look.

Bokuto blinks once. Then twice.

“Like who?” Bokuto asks dumbly, a large portion of his heart screaming for Kuroo to say any other name besides —

“Y/N,” Kuroo replies with a hint of exasperation, shaking his head lightly, “I like her. A lot, I think. And I think I’m gonna try to pursue her.”

Bokuto felt stunned, every hair on his body standing straight up, feeling jolted as if just struck by lightning.

“Are you gonna be okay with that?” Kuroo asks him, and Bokuto regards his best friend carefully.

Bokuto doesn’t know what to say. He’s never seen Kuroo look so serious, his back straight and chest broad as he fixed his eyes onto Bokuto. With each second of silence that passed, Bokuto could feel the air getting heavier, making his lungs feel weighty and thick with each breath until he felt suffocated.

“Why are you asking me?” Bokuto could feel his vocal chords shake, and he resists the urge to clear his throat.

Bokuto could feel a twinge of annoyance at how Kuroo’s eyes seem to soften at him, the filter of sympathy making him feel absolutely pathetic.

“Because you’re still my best friend, Bo,” Kuroo’s words had felt like daggers in his chest, “And at least one of us needs to be honest with our feelings.”

The irritation now surged through him in full force. No matter which angle he tries to look at it, it almost physically pains him to admit something he’s known for years. Kuroo Tetsuro is a good man. Bokuto has always relied on him, never even had a shadow of a doubt that Kuroo would do anything he could to help him — Bokuto has tested that theory multiple times in the past.

This was his roommate. His best friend. What more could he want for you?

“Of course I‘ll be okay with it,” Bokuto ignored the implications of that last sentence, opting instead to find comfort in Kuroo’s relieved smile. His throat felt dry, and the back of his eyes felt hot, but Bokuto mustered up enough willpower to genuinely tell Kuroo.

“Good luck.”

Kuroo nods once, and the legs of his chair scrape loudly against the floor as he scoots back. He rises from his seat, starting to walk back to his bedroom before halting abruptly and turning back to face Bokuto.

“She told me about the fight, by the way,” Kuroo mumbles so softly, Bokuto almost didn’t catch it, “I think you should try to talk to her soon… I’m sure it’s been bothering you as much as it’s bothering her.”

Bokuto doesn’t turn around, doesn’t want Kuroo to see the way his face is twisted. He attempts to compose himself before he chokes out an answer.

“I will.”

Kuroo’s footsteps fade away, and Bokuto wipes at the angry tears spilling into his curry.

And just as Akaashi had been his voice of reason for years, it was Akaashi’s advice that played clearly in his brain.

If it meant both of his best friends would be happy, then he has no choice but to let you go.

All he’s ever wanted was the best for you, and he hopes one day he’s able to admit that maybe, it isn’t him.

But today, he’s not so sure.

He really was an idiot.

m.list • prev • next

🔖: @kovjiro @lowkey-falling-apart @boosyboo9206 @soranihimawari @whorefornoodles @yatoatyourservice @hutaochan @risumu @kawaii-angelanne @takemittchy @girlyluke @batcaveraider @milkteeboba @lulu-102 @pothodicted @rintarovibes @littlemochi @mellygallagher @ameliabs-world @tendo-sxtori @rae0fsunshine1317 @plum-duels @fancybaguettepolice @uquael @backalley11 @amarinthe @propertyoftoru @chibishae34 @galaxyfloater3 @mha-baku-todo-deku-kiri @bnha-bakusquad @samkysnks @slvtforsmvt @chirp-cat @what-a-bratt @misssugarless @therealpeanut @weapxnsleft @peachiikichu @kowalsqq @urfavecendol @paintedstarres @musicshylover @bestgirlb @cheeseriz @wakatosimps @dassah-ichi @tinyegg @fail-big

a/n: bonus chapter! Happy Halloween!! rbs v appreciated 💖

[thefallennightmare]

Guilt-Twenty Eight

Pairings: Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: fluff, mostly angst, swearing, and some implied smut here and there.

Summary: When a murder hits the small-town reader lives in and personally attacks the family she works for, she would never image the toll that it would take on her as well. But not for the reason people would think. The last thing Reader thought she would find herself in during the murder trial was falling in love with her boss, Andy Barber and him returning those feelings.

Authors Note: It's been a bit since I've updated so here ya go! Tags are open!

Tags: @emimaki @liecastillo @patzammit @evansgal @posiemax @iamemy4 @falling-solar-system @tothemoonandbackx3000 @beckygirl95 @artis1979 @mommad @jennamarieee623 @mansaaay @bellaireland1981 @torntaltos @greeneyedblondie44 @yosoysere @lowkeysebby @dissapointmentofthefam @mansaaay @moonie-brbs @winterberryfox @kookie-sun0097 @bellahadidrealgf @speedy-object-dream @keepcalmandbeajunkie @hollybee8917

I tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter and gazed around the quiet, empty house. My lips pursued in confusion, wondering where Andy was. The text he had sent me a few hours ago indicated that he would be home by now, but it was clear that no one was in fact home.

“Andy? Jacob?” I yelled.

Silence echoed back to me and I was ready to call Andy, but my gaze fell on a scene through the window that led to the backyard that melted my heart.

The slight chill brought chills to my skin when I stepped outside, a large smile pulling to my lips.

Andy was sitting at a table that was scattered with candles and a freshly made dinner. The lights from outside were on and bright, covering him in an almost angelic glow. He was giving me a smirk; clearly happy he had pulled off this surprise.

“What’s this?” I questioned.

He stood and extended a hand towards me, leading me towards the table.

“I felt guilty for being so busy the last few weeks and wanted to surprise you with a date night at home,” Andy admitted while pushing in my chair.

Ever since we returned from Mexico, Andy had been swamped at work. Since the charges against Jacob were cleared, Andy was able to return to work, which meant he had a high stack of caseloads waiting for him on his desk. He would leave early in the mornings and return late at night which meant less time for us. I had managed to keep myself busy, however, with getting back into my old schedule of working around his house. The only difference was that I wasn’t getting paid. I didn't mind, at first, but after his house was clean, I spent the rest of the day looking for jobs.

With no luck.

Needless to say, I was getting stressed and with every offer from Andy for lending me money, I declined. We were dating now, it felt weird to get paid for cleaning up my own mess and doing my own laundry.

I haven’t officially moved in, but I did spend a few days and nights here then going back to my apartment to finish the week.

We didn’t want to move too fast, especially with Jacob who decided to live with Andy.

Jacob took the news about the divorce surprisingly well and while he was sad that he wouldn’t be able to see both of his parents at the same time anymore, he was happy that Andy was finally happy again.

“You both deserve to be happy and if Y/N is who makes you happy, then you deserve it. Mom will find hers someday.”

His words warmed my heart.

Jacob was visiting his mom this weekend, the new custody agreement going into effect. It wasn’t court ordered, Andy and Laurie agreeing to it on their own.

Their divorce was almost finalized, the last six months being stressful in wondering if she would fight him for anything. Thankfully, even with everything that happened, she was easy to agree with.

Andy got the house while she was able to keep their lake house, which was only a few hours' drive from one another which was easy for Jacob. He would stay with Andy one week and her the next during the summer and while he finished his senior year, Jacob would only visit Laurie on the weekends.

The reason why it took so long for Andy and Laurie to agree on this agreement was because he wanted her to settle in her new life and get the best help she needed before Jacob would be staying with her. Which she did.

It made the both of us happy that she was taking everything so well, giving the way that Andy and I had gotten together. She could have taken everything from him but didn’t. We thought that she wanted to move past everything and start fresh.

If we only knew what was about to come.

“You didn’t have to do all this. I would have been fine with a movie night on the couch,” I smiled towards the set up.

Andy sat in his previous spot, a smile still on his face. “You deserve it all, sweetheart.”

Our dinner passed with usual comfort, us talking about how our days went, and when he continued to watch me with love behind his eyes, I raised my brow at him.

“You know,” I set my wine glass down after taking a sip, “You seem giddy about something.”

Andy remained silent as he reached behind him and slid a stack of papers towards me. The first thing my gaze fell on were the two signatures at the bottom of the page.

“Is this-?”

“The divorce is officially finalized.” Andy interrupted.

My heart thumped in my chest, knowing that I could finally breathe a soft sigh of relief. Everything was finalized and there was nothing I had to be worried about any longer. The guilt of dating a married man was no more, we could continue with our relationship with no more strings attached.

I leaned over the table and placed a firm, loving kiss on his lips, one that Andy had no problem returning. When I sat back in my chair, he linked our fingers together.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to finally realize what I truly wanted, and I can’t apologize enough for the hurt I caused you in the process,” Andy vocalized with sorrow.

I gave his hand a squeeze. “You don’t have to apologize anymore, Andy.”

He shook his head in response. “I’m glad that you continued to love me after all that.”

I lifted his hand and grazed my lips over his knuckles.

“You were my anchor during the trial and the aftermath, never leaving my side. There’s no way I could ever repay that,” Andy admitted.

It was my turn to shake my head. “I chose to do all of that. I chose to stay by your side to help you through it and I’ll continue too. You’ll never have to suffer through something like that again.”

“I love you,” Andy mused.

“I love you too,” I proclaimed with a kiss on his lips.

The cloud around us was vaporized when his phone went off, indicating a new message. His expression went from one filled with love to concern.

“Everything alright?”

Andy sighed while running a hand over his face. “It’s Jacob. He’s wondering if I could pick him up tomorrow after his haircut. Laurie is going to take him, but she can’t bring him back. But I’m in court all day tomorrow.”

“I can go pick him up,” I shrugged as if it wasn’t that big of a deal.

He thanked me with a kiss to the side of my head and as we continued our relaxing night, neither of us knew the hell that would be brought to us in less than twenty-four hours.

[troubatrain]

twisted in bedsheets - m. tkachuk

a/n: this is straight up smut.... like minimal plot mostly filth. but i hope you guys like it, i may give it a part two if anyone wants to see it but i don't know yet. big shoutout to my resident whores @hookingminor & @tkafuckit ily both sm

taglist : @barzysreputation

warnings: it's smush time (smut)

You almost wanted to make fun of him.

A part of you wondered, what did a single, twenty three year old, professional athlete who lived in a different country most of year need a house this big for? That wasn’t your business, and really neither was showing up two days after Matthew moved in with a bottle of wine and silly housewarming gift to make yourself feel better about where his little brother, also known as your best friend, was. You knocked loudly, hoping the car in the driveway meant Matthew was home and you weren’t wasting your time.

Matthew was inside, finally getting some peace and quiet after spending the day listening to his mother and the interior designer he hired argue about throw pillows. He jumped at the knock of his door, not used to the way it echoed through the house he bought on a whim. You were standing on the other side, bouncing on your heels with a bag in your hand and Matthew couldn’t help but smile.

Matthew always had a soft spot for you, Brady was your best friend and just like Matthew found himself watching out for Brady, he did the same for you. It was easy to keep it like that for years, Brady being far more possessive because you were his friend and not Matthew’s and not everything needs to be about you Matt, but it’d gotten harder lately. It was sudden, one summer Matthew came home and you were lounging by the pool and he swore his dick twitched in his pants, and it just wasn’t getting easier. It wasn’t easier when he tried to convince himself that there was an age gap between the both of you, even though it was barely two years and no one would blink an eye. It wasn’t easier when he beat the Senators and you quietly told him he had a good game because if Brady caught wind of it he’d lose his mind. And it sure as hell wasn’t easier when Brady mentioned your boyfriend constantly.

Your boyfriend who was having a party that Matthew knew for a fact Brady was at, but why weren’t you? Matthew couldn’t possibly get his hopes up, knowing if you were single he’d find some way to break your heart and you didn’t deserve that. That was the thing, Matthew ruined people and you were a far better person than he was to begin with. Matthew opens the door regardless, a smile on his face when he meets your eyes.

“Hi,” You beam, trying to play off like you were happy when you were just looking for a distraction that didn’t involve driving around and crying to Taylor Swift, “I, uh, congrats?”

Matthew chuckles, cocking his head to the side and opening his door a little further for you to come in, “Thank you, you really didn’t have to bring a gift.”

“It’s rude not too,” You scold, tapping Matthew in the arm and forgetting for a second you weren’t talking to Brady.

You pretended like you couldn’t feel it, the way his arms felt like a solid fucking rock and it was getting harder and harder to shove down that silly crush you’ve had since high school. You remember it so clearly, the moment Matthew went from Brady’s brother to just Matthew. You were a freshman, a dorky quiet kid who everyone knew not to mess with exclusively because Brady would kick the shit out of them, and you overheard a few girls in Matthew’s gossiping about how cute he was. Then it hit you, just as Matthew was leaning against his car to drive you home - he was cute. Cute turned into hot quickly, and you spent summer after summer wondering if you’d be bold enough to make a move.

You watched as Matthew pulled out the picture you’d framed for him, one his mother had taken of the three of you as kids. You were at the same ice cream shop you went to after every Blue’s game, chocolate ice cream smiles on your faces.

“You dropped your ice cream right after my mom took this,” Matthew hums, smiling at the memory himself.

“And you gave me yours because you felt bad for me,” You finish, hence the reason you chose that photo in the first place.

“You were crying,” Matthew nods, remembering the way his heart broke when he saw tears well up in your eyes. Even then, Matthew was a protector, constantly defending the people he held close to his heart, “Brady wouldn’t even share his… speaking of, isn’t there a huge rager you could be at right now?”

“Something about a party at my ex boyfriend’s doesn’t sound fun to me at all,” You sigh, hoping you wouldn’t have to explain it any further.

You didn’t have a boyfriend anymore.

It was all Matthew could process, his brain malfunctioning because he couldn’t believe it. Matthew gave you a sympathetic smile, “Let’s crack that bottle open then?”

You agreed, following Matthew into his yard to sit out by his fire pit, an early summer breeze making St. Louis unseasonably cold. He came back with two glasses, and you tried simply to ignore that his hands were big enough to hold both glasses in one, “So, Brady’s at a party at your ex-boyfriend’s place and you’re not mad at him at all?”

“I can’t be mad at Brady,” You explain, pouring yourself a glass of wine that was just a bit too big, “He doesn’t know what happened.”

“I thought you had no secrets,” Matthew questions, knowing that Brady knew everything about you and you were the same way. You turned your attention to the glass, swirling it in your hand while you seemed to shut down under Matthew’s gaze, “Y/N… it’s me, you know you can tell me.”

“It’s really embarrassing,” You whisper, “He cheated on me…”

“That’s not your fault,” Matthew scoffs, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “Why didn’t you tell-”

“He told me it was because the girl he was hooking up with was better in bed than me,” You whisper, Matthew closing his mouth immediately. He took a deep breath, his fingers scratching against your scalp while he looked straight ahead, “Please don’t tell Brady.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Matthew nods, his bottom lip between his teeth, “You’re perfect, and if he doesn’t see that he can go fuck himself.”

“What if he’s right?” You ask, taking a gulp of your drink. Matthew knew what road you were headed towards, one that was going to leave you insecure about this for the rest of your life if Matthew didn’t choose his next words carefully.

“He’s not,” Matthew shakes his head, hopping off the outdoor sofa you were on and kneeling down in front of you, “And you don’t need some douchebags opinion to make yourself feel good.”

“Would you sleep with me?” You ask, Matthew’s hand that had been rubbing your thighs gently stopped. You craved the validation, and a part of you always wondered if you had a shot with Matthew. If you were both able to drown out the noise from your friends and family, would he want you? Matthew’s hand crept up to your cheek, his thumb tracing your lip. You looked at him like this was the most important question he’d ever have to answer, and like if he said yes your lips would be on his, “And tell me I’m good.”

Matthew shut his eyes, running every possible scenerio knowing all of them include him fucking this up and hurting your feelings, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. His lips ghosted over yours, stubble rough against your skin, “You’re sure about this?”

“Please,” You pout, not even bothering to give Matthew your best sexy face. You’d faked it enough, a year of trying to be something you weren’t to please some asshole who left for someone else anyways. Matthew’s hands slid on either side of you, his lips against yours and your hands on the back of his neck.

“Inside,” Matthew mutters against your lips, knowing if he didn’t stop himself now his new neighbors would get a show they didn’t ask for. You deserved better than that anyways. You snuck inside, your lips pressing kisses to Matthew’s neck while his arm stayed around your waist until you ended up in his bedroom. The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, Matthew crawling on top of you, “I cannot believe that asshole let you slip through his fingers like that.”

“Make me forget about him then,” You let out a breath, Matthew smirking against your skin when you lit up that competitive fire he’d always had. You tugged at the bottom of his shirt, Matthew taking the hint and grabbing it from the back of his neck to toss off. Matthew’s hands slid under your shirt, unhooking your bra and swirling his finger around your nipples, pulling a moan from you.

“You even moan pretty,” Matthew could believe it, knowing just how many dreams like this, but really hearing it was something else entirely. Matthew shed your clothes quickly, leaving you just in your panties while he pressed kisses against your skin, murmurs of praise left in their wake.

“Matty,” You whimper, tilting Matthew’s chin up from where it was nestling between your thighs, “No one’s ever made me cum like this before.”

Matthew swore he was going to blow right there. The way your eyes looked into his, a trust that you were giving him that it was becoming clear you’d never given anyone. If it was anyone else, Matthew’s cocky nature would have broken through, a challenge accepted attitude that he couldn’t have with you.

You weren’t nervous but it wasn’t some secret that Matthew got around, and admitting something that seemed as trivial as what you’d told him was a big deal to you. Matthew’s blue eyes were soft, a small smile on his face, “We’ll go slow baby.”

And slow it was, Matthew was patient, trying to figure out what was going to get you off. His tongue was lapping at your core slowly, smirking at the way you squirmed whenever he got close to your clit. Your hands were in his hair, curling his overgrown hair around your fingers. Matthew’s tongue flicked your clit, your soft grip on his curls tighter, “Fuck, sorry-”

“Keep tugging on them,” Matthew groans against you, the vibrations sending a chill up your spine. His fingers were digging into your thighs, undoubtedly leaving a mark to worry about later, but you didn’t care. Matthew was eating your pussy like it was his last fucking meal, growing harder from the way you were moaning his name. You were close, your hips lifting off the bed and Matthew’s hands against your stomach to keep you right where you were. The only sounds echoing through that house were the ones from your orgasm, washing over you while Matthew finally pulled away. His finger swiped your core, sucking your cum off his finger, “Fucking delicious…”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks, holding your arm over your face from Matthew’s praise. He let out a light laugh, pulling your arm down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t be insecure, when you’re with me you don’t have to be.”

You didn’t have a second to process his words, the way say with me like this was something meant to last more than a night, because Matthew’s lips were back on yours. Your hand snuck between you, palming him through his sweats and swallowing the groan with your lips, “I want to try something.”

Matthew’s brows raised, letting you push him onto his back without a fight. You’d never been the most confident in the bedroom, and you really never tried anything that wasn’t missionary, but something about Matthew’s praise had your head held high. You grind your hips against him, a smug smile on Matthew’s face, “You’ve never been on top before?”

You shook your head no, biting your lip and waiting for why have you had the most boring sex life imaginable laugh that should have followed. It never came, instead Matthew’s hands gripped your hips and lifted you up so he could kick off his sweats and boxers. His hand fell, searching through his bedside table for a condom, tearing it open with his teeth and rolling it onto his cock. He tapped your clit with the head, his thumb that was still gripping you was rubbing softly against your skin, “Whenever you’re ready babe.”

Matthew watched you sink yourself onto him slowly, biting his lip to stop himself from cumming too soon because this was hotter than anything he could have imagined. All of those fantasies included finding out you were secretly dirty as hell, but finding out you weren’t and the trust you seemed to give Matthew because he’d never done you wrong was even sexier. Matthew’s hands guided your hips slowly, his head thrown back from the pleasure, “Am I doing good?”

“You’re doing fucking wonderful baby,” Matthew groans, grabbing a fistful of your ass. You moan, falling forward and kissing Matthew’s jaw lightly. He threw his arm around your back, fucking up into you at faster pace, “I want you cum again, c’mon.”

“Matty, I-” You whimper, a protest that you didn’t think you had another one in you until your pussy clenched around him. Your legs were shaking, Matthew stopping himself before he got too rough with you. You caught your breath for a second, Matthew pushing your hair away from your face so he could kiss you. His kisses were gentle, a stark contrast from the fact that his cock was still buried inside of you. You tried to move, grind your hips against his to get him off like he’d just done to you, but your hips bucked from the sensitivity.

“Slow down babe,” Matthew hums, his large hand rubbing your back gently, “We’ll get there.”

Getting there wasn’t hard at all. Not after Matthew had you on your back so he could keep fucking you. You looked beautiful, moaning his own name below him like you’d never said anyone’s name like that. Matthew’s head was tucked into your neck, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours filling the room until he finally came with a loud groan.

When you finally came down from the after sex high, a realization washed over you. You’d had sex with your best friend’s brother. The same brother you’d spend years of your life with. Matthew walked into his bathroom, grabbing you a warm washcloth and a clean shirt from his closet. He got back into his room, glancing at the way you were looking around his room with his sheets over your chest unsure of whether or not you should leave. Matthew leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips, “I want you to stay.”

“You don’t have to let me-” You start to protest, a weird feeling in your chest you couldn’t quite describe. You were a relationship type, hook ups weren’t your playing field and you knew Matthew lived by them. You never forgot it either, the way he slugged back a beer and looked Brady and yourself dead in the eyes and told you he swore he wasn’t built to last more than a night. Matthew chuckles, cleaning you up and throwing his shirt over your frame. He laid down next to you, pulling you against his chest and kissing your shoulder.

“I want you to stay here,” Matthew assures you, smiling wide when you tucked yourself into his side.

Hey Matty?

Yeah?

Don’t tell Brady about this.

Secret’s safe with me Y/N.

[oomisluvr]

warm, a sakusa kiyoomi drabble

synopsis: you're stuck indoors with kiyoomi during a blizzard; luck is truly on his side. implied relationship. warnings: cursing and suggestiveness! nothing too crazy or explicit.

slam!

the echo of the cabin door clobbering shut makes the house creak, old wood straining under the combined might of the rampant winds and sakusa's strength.

"holy shit. it's so cold i can't feel my nuts."

"well that's no good," you chuckle, waving him over, "come, sit by the fire with me."

setting the of the firewood in a pile on the floor, he removes his snowboots, feet still protected by two layers of wool socks. wiggling his fingers to make sure they're still there, kiyoomi brings his hands to his chest, unbuttoning his thick winter coat and shrugging it off.

"it smells good in here," he approaches you by the fire, haphazardly wrapped in several handmade blankets, a flurry of pillows littering the surrounding area. you're sitting of the floor wearing a thick sweater, his sweater, a bowl of stew resting between your criss-crossed legs, "what'ya make?"

"nothing you crazy," you kiss his cold cheek when he joins you on the floor, "just some dinner: a simple stew to warm you up." offering your bowl to him, he takes it with stars in his eyes.

there's pink dusted on his cheeks, a more aggressive redness coats the tips of his nose and ears. poor baby.

"mmm," he hums through bites, feeling calmed by the heat offered from the soup. little else is said, too focused on devouring the hearty meal prepared for him. the sensation of the food nearly lulls him to sleep, the combination of flavors make for the perfect pre-nap meal.

"i-i'm sorry," you sigh, "about all this. i didn't know the weather was going to be this way." as if right on cue, a loud wind batters against the cabin, the boom resounding off the four residual walls. you flinch at the sudden noise.

confusion sticks to sakusa's face, a hand coming to wipe the dribble of liquid peeking from his mouth, "what are you talking about? i'm having a great time." the sarcasm is painfully obvious.

"oomi!" you playfully push him, a knowing smile tugs on his lips, "you don't have to lie to me. our vacation is a total bust; nothing worked out."

"don't worry about it," he sets the bowl to the side, leaning back on his palms. the flames cast a orange glow on his features, an amber glow swirling in his usual dark irises, "alright, maybe we didn't account for an entire fucking blizzard to trap us for a few days, maybe we almost ran out of firewood and potentially froze to death, maybe i almost chopped off my foot with an axe earlier while getting the firewood, maybe--"

"okay, okay!" you huff, cutting him off, "i get it, i should've picked a different vacation spot. i said i'm sorry." you lean your body into his side, lip jutted out in what kiyoomi thinks may be the cutest pout ever.

"i'm just fucking with you," he rests the side of his head atop your hair, "i am enjoying myself. we have a lot to be grateful for."

you feel an arm wrapping around you, pushing you closer into his side, "you mean that? you aren't mad?"

"no, off course not. you heard me, right?" suddenly reaching forward to yank your legs towards him, sakusa crawls over you, his large figure easily towering over your own, "i get to spend the next few days here with you," with loose curls falling towards your face, his countenance reveals a faint smile; the kind of smile that few people get to see, the kind that only reveals itself when you're around.

it's warmer now.

"it's just us," kiyoomi breathes against your lips, "it's only me and you," he relishes in the desire whirling behind your soft eyes, a silent invitation to continue, "just focus on me, pretty thing," dipping his head to finally kiss you, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him infinitely closer. the coldness from fighting the storm outside has melted away, warmth flooding your senses, flowing through your arteries and stunning your mind.

articles of clothing get tossed to the side, words of praise fill the empty spaces, sweat beads in a sheen layer across your skin.

wrapped up in thick blankets, tangled in kiyoomi's arms, your eyes manage to catch the bits of snow falling outside the window. the storm seems louder somehow, but you still feel warm.

your eyes flutter closed. kiyoomi feels your back arch.

inspired by: the snowy cabins of breath of the wild. THIS picture in particular.

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde]

Waffle House AU

It’s never mentioned but for clarification, Jaskier has a beard in this. Anyway, @officerjennie, @all-hail-the-witcher, and myself shouldn’t be left alone together because then things like this happen. I love you both.

Geraskier, rated t, modern au and Geralt's still a witcher

-

The first time the man showed up, it was nearing three in the morning. The Waffle House Jaskier worked overnights in was as packed as ever, that’s to say there were two regulars sitting at the bar and a hoard of bugs flying around the place.

The man in question was dressed head to toe in some sort of armor that looked like it belonged in a steampunk cosplay and covered in an odd black substance that looked sticky. Even from across the restaurant, Jaskier could already smell the foul odor rolling off the man in waves. It was so strong Jaskier was surprised that he couldn’t see it.

Walking to the other end of the bar, closest to the corner table the man had seated himself it, Jaskier shouted at him, unwilling to get any closer than necessary, “What do you want to drink?”

“Coffee,” the man’s voice was deep, more a growl than anything else.

Wrinkling his nose in displeasure, Jaskier grabbed the coffee pot and a mug and made his way over to the table, singing loudly to himself as he did so. Jaskier’s voice bounced off the shitty interior of the Waffle House, making it echo in a most unpleasant way. Jaskier switched to humming an upbeat tune as he approached the man at the table and began pouring the coffee.

“So, what do you think of my singing?” It was a question Jaskier asked all of his late-night customers. Their answers would determine whether he would keep them as regulars or do his best to run them off.  And his best never failed.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier frowned at the non-answer, “Come now, three words or less.”

“Filling-less pie.”

Spluttering, Jaskier pointed at the man angrily, “You know nothing about music. What do you want to order?”

“Hashbrowns. Smothered and covered.”

Spinning on his heal, Jaskier stalked away from the man without responding, instead muttering angrily under his breath, “I’ll show you filling-less, you bastard.”

-

Dropping the plate in front of the man, Jaskier watched as the rubbery meal bounced uncomfortably off the plate before landing back on it, somehow looking even worse than it already had.

“What is this?” The man’s voice held no inflection and Jaskier had no way of knowing the man’s feelings as he looked at the pathetic plate in front of him.

“Your food.”

“I ordered hashbrowns.”

Jaskier had to hold in his gasp as the man’s eyes, the most unusual golden shade, met his.

“Well, this is what I’ve brought you.”

The man looked back at the plate, flipping open the joke of an omelet, revealing that it was just eggs cooked in a pan and folded over, “There’s nothing inside. What kind of omelet doesn’t have anything in it?”

“Oh? Do you not like filling-less omelets? What a shame.”

Jaskier stalked back to the bar and took a seat by the regsiter, pulling his book back out and pretending to read it while he watched the man from the corner of his eye. He didn’t even look back to Jaskier’s direction, instead staring grumpily at the eggs in front of him before beginning to eat them.

The man ate quickly and before long he was walking over to the register where Jaskier sat, throwing a wad of bills down on the counter, “Keep the change.”

“I will.”

“You’re a shitty waiter.”

“You smell bad.”

And that, Jaskier assumed, would be that and he would never have to see the weird, smelly, strangely attractive man ever again.

-

The next night when the man arrived again, this time covered in a weird flaky green substance, Jaskier couldn’t help but eye him suspiciously. People didn’t typically return after Jaskier provided intentionally bad service, at least not if they were sober and of a sound mind. Jaskier couldn’t confidently say this man’s mind was sound, although he did seem sober.

Jaskier grabbed the coffee pot and a mug and stalked over to the corner table. He filled the cup halfway.

“More hashbrowns?”

The man wrinkled his brow, a frown on his face “Yes.”

Wandering back to the kitchen, in no rush, Jaskier stuck his head back in to look at the cook, “More eggs like last night. And can you add something weird to them this time?”

The line cook saluted him before reaching up to grab something off the shelf above his head. Jaskier winced, he wasn’t sure what exactly was in the mixtures of spices that were kept up there, but he had never had a good experience with them, that was for certain. This would for sure run off the weird tone-deaf man for good. The cook was done in no time and Jaskier walked the plate over to the man in the corner, throwing it down on the table like he had the night before.

He did no more than blink in surprise when the table collapsed. Jaskier wasn’t sure exactly why the table collapsed, the plate and shitty eggs didn’t weigh very much, and he hadn’t thrown the plate down particularly hard. But, it wasn’t the weirdest thing he has ever seen in the Waffle House, so he simply caught the man’s eye and shrugged, turning and walking back to his seat.

He watched amusedly as the man juggled his plate off the table before propping it up awkwardly and moving seats. That hadn’t been part of Jaskier’s plan, but it would certainly work in his favor.

-

Jaskier was shocked when the man walked in for a third night in a row. The normally difficult to fluster waiter was very aware that his face was the very picture of surprise. Luckily, the man didn’t even look at him as he walked over to the table in the corner. He shook it a bit before sitting down, presumably making sure it wouldn’t collapse today. To be honest, Jaskier wasn’t overly confident it was any sturdier now, but it did appear that someone on day shift had at least made it look as though it was fixed.

Grabbing the coffee pot and a mug, Jaskier couldn’t help but hope this wouldn’t truly become a ritual. He didn’t want a man in his Waffle House if said man couldn’t tell that Jaskier’s singing was nothing short of marvelous.

“Hashbrowns again?”

The man nodded, staring out of the window rather than looking at Jaskier. He wasn’t in the weird steampunk armor anymore, this time wearing a soft black tee shirt and worn in jeans. It also seemed he had managed to find a bath and was able to get all of the weird grimy things off of him.

He really was quite attractive all cleaned up, Jaskier couldn’t help but notice.

“What’s your name?”

The man turned to look at him, “Geralt.”

Walking over to the kitchen, Jaskier put in the order and sat back down by the register to wait. It wasn’t long before One-Eyed Larry grunted at him from his usual seat at the bar, “Napkin holders on fire, kid.”

Looking over at the table in front of Geralt’s, Jaskier saw that the napkin holder was, indeed, on fire. Sighing and getting a glass of water, Jaskier walked over to the table and poured the glass on it, drenching it thoroughly. Waving away the smoke, Jaskier turned the napkin holder around, making sure the fire was completely out, before putting it back in its place and taking his seat again.

Geralt’s golden eyes followed him curiously the whole time.

If the man was going to be spending his nights here, then he would need to get used to these kinds of things. It was three in the morning in a Waffle House, weirder would happen.

A few minutes more passed before there was a bell ding from the kitchen, signaling that Geralt’s food was ready. Jaskier tossed the plate on the table as was tradition, smirking when he saw the surprise flit across the man’s face. No doubt he hadn’t been expecting to receive hashbrowns, smother and covered as he had first asked for two nights prior.

What could Jaskier say, he was rather weak for a pretty face. Even if was a rude one.

“If you agree that my singing is spectacular, I’ll let you take me out for coffee sometime.”

“Good coffee or this shit?” Geralt gestured to the mug in front of him.

Jaskier scoffed, “You think I would ever eat or drink anything from here?”

“That’s comforting.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Jaskier sat a notepad and pen on the table, “Leave your number and I’ll call you tomorrow to cash in.”

Later when Jaskier cleared the table, he couldn’t help but smile at the neat handwriting on the notepad.

Looking forward to hearing from you. You should get your napkin holder checked out.

-

 Check out my masterlist!

 Tag list: @jaskierswolf​ @fontegagrilledcheese​ @dani-dandelino​ @feraljaskier​ @bastardofmothman​ @moonysrz​ @its-onions​ @dapandapod​ @negativenuggetz​ @feral-jaskier​ @kueble​ @llamasdumpsterfire​ @selectivegeekwithstandards​ @holymotherwolf @officerjennie

[fruitcoops]

eve, what i would not GIVE to read one of our boys being edged within the very last inch of his life (if you have time of course and would like to !)

Of course I have time! Please enjoy some questionable decisions and skinny jean worship. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for semi-public smut, mentioned mild injury, alcohol, and tears (the good kind)

The second they were out of view, Sirius pushed Remus against the wall and shoved both hands up his shirt with reckless abandon. “Jesus—Christ,” Remus said between frantic kisses, leaving a bite on his lower lip. “Impatient, much?”

“Off,” Sirius demanded, though it came out as more of a pathetic plea as he slid one hand down to cup Remus’ ass.

“We’re in public,” Remus mumbled against his lips.

“Don’t care.”

“You’re gonna break my ass if you keep squeezing that hard.”

Sirius whined into his mouth and pushed their hips together. “Skinny jeans.”

“I fucking knew it,” Remus said with a grin. “Come on.”

“Wh—” A hand closed around his wrist and Remus dragged him down the hallway at a run, his face bright with excitement and flushed with arousal. Sirius had been looking forward to a heavy makeout session and maybe a handjob in the hall, but he couldn’t bring himself to protest when letting Remus haul him around meant he could stare at the best ass the world had ever seen for a few moments longer. Want, he thought. Want that. Now.

Remus opened a door on the left with clumsy fingers and pulled him inside with a hand on the back of his neck; as soon as the door shut, he broke away from the kiss and hurried over to the desk. “Two seconds,” he panted.

“I…okay?” Sirius leaned back against the door in confusion. They were in the PT room—he’d know that place anywhere, even through his lust-addled haze—and Remus was stealing Layla’s chair. “Why do you need that?”

“I really hope she didn’t find it,” Remus muttered to himself as he stood on the seat and stretched to reach the gap between the built-in shelves and the ceiling. After a moment of befuddling silence, his face split into a grin. “Got it.”

“Can I kiss you now?” Sirius asked.

“You can do more than that,” Remus said, hopping down from his perch. He tossed a small tube across the room and swaggered over, obviously proud of himself. Sirius frowned at the tube; it was too dark to read the label, but it seemed familiar.

Realization struck just as Remus reached him. “Is this lube?”

“Yup.”

“You keep lube in Layla’s office?”

“I kept lube in my office,” Remus corrected, wrapping his hands in the front of Sirius’ shirt and turning them so his own back was against the door. “And I forgot about it until five minutes ago. Thank god she’s short.”

“Why?”

Remus sighed through his nose. “Because I was horny and ever-hopeful, and maybe I harbored a fantasy or two about fucking on the desk. Does it matter?”

Sirius wasn’t sure his eyebrows could creep any higher. “Was that—are we going to—?”

“Are you kidding? Hell no. I’m not desecrating Layla’s desk. However, we are going to be fucking against this door, so if you would kindly take your shirt off, it would be appreciated.”

Sirius paused, then wrenched his shirt over his head so fast he nearly tore the fabric, crowding closer to Remus to drown in his kisses and his hands roving Sirius’ bare skin. He was practically vibrating with anticipation—Remus wasn’t the only one with fantasies about exciting times in the PT room, but until that moment Sirius had been sure his own were nothing more than a pipe dream.

Except this pipe dream seemed awfully real, and it came equipped with skinny jeans.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he murmured into the side of Remus’ neck, gripping his waist tight over the denim as their hips rocked together. “You and your legs.”

Remus pulled his face up for another openmouthed kiss as his hand snuck down to undo Sirius’ belt, fumbling with the clasp and button before yanking the zipper open. “What are you going to do about it, captain?”

New voices echoed in the hall outside and they both went still, though Remus’ smile didn’t falter in the slightest. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to have to be quiet.”

“I can be quiet.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it hard for you.”

“I’m always hard for you,” Remus teased, leaning back against the door with a huff as Sirius bit down on the junction of his shoulder. “Now come on, slowpoke, I didn’t get that lube down for nothing.”

Sirius made a disgruntled noise into his skin and smacked him lightly on the thigh; Remus just laughed, though it was more breathless than before. The clear outline of his dick stood out in his skinny jeans and Sirius rubbed his palm over the shaft with steady pressure until Remus’ exhales trembled and his feet began to shuffle on the linoleum. “What if I want to see you come all over those skinny jeans?”

“No,” Remus whined, bucking his hips as Sirius traced the head. “Fuck, Sirius, I gave you the lube for a reason.”

“I could blow you.” He carefully undid the front button and slid the zipper down at a snail’s pace. He could feel his own heartbeat in his dick already, but shoved that thought to the back of his mind. “Return the favor after all that time in here?”

Remus grumbled into the dip of his shoulder, then leaned away to glare. “Either fuck me or I’ll do it myself.”

“You don’t want my mouth?”

“I want your mouth on me and your dick in me,” he fired back, though Sirius could see the playfulness in his eyes as he pulled Sirius’ lower lip between his teeth. “Get with the program, captain.”

Sirius nuzzled into his cheek, leaving a kiss by the corner of his mouth. “Will you wear these every day?”

“You like them?”

He moved his hands from Remus’ hips back his ass, grabbing a handful of each side with a hum. “You look like a walking wet dream.”

“Then do something about it.”

“Ask nicely.”

“I stood on a chair to get you lube,” Remus snorted. “That’s pretty damn nice.”

“Say ‘please’.”

“Why?”

“Because otherwise I’ll keep doing this until you can’t take it anymore.” Sirius begrudgingly moved one hand back around to hold Remus’ dick through his pants; he shifted, brows pitching, before he sighed.

“Then do something about it please.”

A thrill raced white-hot through Sirius’ stomach and up his spine, and he slipped both hands under the high waistband to slowly drag them down Remus’ thighs, revealing first his boxers, then miles of golden skin. “Off,” he said quietly when they reached his ankles. Remus’ throat bobbed and he kicked first his shoes off, then his jeans. Sirius tossed his own aside as well and began the all-important removal of Remus’ henley. “You should wear this more often, too.”

Remus cleared his throat. “Yeah, okay.”

“Wasn’t that easy?” Sirius didn’t give him the chance to respond—his lips were looking far too kissable to worry about things like that, especially when the snark melted out of Remus on a slow breath when their lips met. More people ran by outside, but he didn’t care. They had no lights on, and he would make sure they were quiet enough. “Up.”

Remus pushed down on his shoulders just as Sirius caught him by the thighs and hoisted him up against the door; some of the dizzying arousal on his face gave way to a giddy smile. “I love it when you do that. Which leg d’you want me to keep down?”

Sirius smiled and nudged their noses together. “Neither.”

A beat of silence fell over the room. “But…I won’t have leverage.”

“And?”

“And I need leverage.”

“Says who?” Sirius dipped his fingertips under the waistband of Remus’ boxers and kissed the confusion off his face. “I can hold you.”

His breaths turned shallow with anticipation; Sirius snapped the elastic against his skin before pulling it down, down, down over the curve of his ass and the muscle of his thighs as they clenched around his waist. He did have to set him down for a moment to get both their boxers off, but within moments Remus’ heartbeat was pounding next to his shoulder again and Sirius was in perfect range to lean up and kiss him.

The lube was small enough that he could open it with one hand and squeeze it directly onto Remus’ cleft, making him jolt with a hushed curse. Sirius capped it again and tossed it onto the closest table, still supporting Remus with one arm under him and their hips pressed flush together. He gathered some of the lube onto his fingers and circled his hole before sliding in—he didn’t stop at the first knuckle to let Remus adjust and instead kept pushing until the whole digit was inside.

Remus’ mouth fell open slightly; he tried to rock down for more, but he couldn’t do much other than tighten his thighs around Sirius. “Leverage.”

“You don’t need it.”

“Can’t move,” Remus whined, squirming until a second finger started moving in beside the first. A shiver rolled through him when Sirius crooked them; outside, the music from the party was still making the wooden door tremble. Earlier in the night, he had fantasized about ditching the team party to spend the night with a pair of glorious legs thrown over his shoulders—now, he knew there was no better way to avoid Harzy’s godawful spiked punch than fucking his boyfriend in said boyfriend’s previous office.

“How much do you want to feel it?” Sirius asked as Remus buried his face in his neck.

“Game,” he managed around a moan as Sirius found his sweet spot. “Can’t—need to be okay for the game—god fuck there.”

The music softened for a moment as the songs switched and Sirius shushed him. “Quiet, mon coeur, they’ll hear you.”

Remus bit down hard on his lower lip to stifle the answering choked whine, and Sirius took his fingers out to gently pull it free. Remus had bitten his lip bloody trying to keep quiet before, but tonight wasn’t about how rough they could be. It was about giving him a taste of what those skinny jeans did to Sirius, and making sure he never forgot it. “Put it back,” Remus pleaded. “Put it back.”

“Nice and slow,” Sirius soothed. “We’ve got a game, you said it yourself. Have to make sure you’re relaxed.”

Remus closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, toying with the hair at the nape of Sirius’ neck. This is going to be fun, Sirius thought as he pushed two fingers back in. Very, very fun.

-------------

“Storage closet,” Nado confirmed as he plopped down next to James on one of the leather couches in the game room. “Could hear ‘em from all the way down the hall.”

“Hey, I get it,” James said with a shake of his head. “Nat was in Florida for, like, two weeks. I miss Lily after two days. Kudos to them for finding a place to fuck without actually ditching the party.”

Nado took a swig of beer. “What’s the tally?”

“Cubs in the break room, Cap and Loops…somewhere, and now Nat and Kasey in the storage closet.” James counted on his fingers. “Sounds like a damn successful party to me.”

“Amen.” Nado clinked their bottles together. “I bet you a Kinder egg Cap and Loops are in the PT room.”

“Deal.”

“Pay up, then, ‘cause I heard them while I was walking back.”

“Aw, come on,” James complained. “That’s so not fair!”

“Thunk, thunk, thunk,” Nado mimicked with a grin. “The Kinder egg is for emotional support.”

“Cheater,” James muttered.

-------------

“Oh, fuck, there,” Remus panted, tilting his head back as Sirius canted his hips forward for the next thrust. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want.” Sweat dripped down Sirius’ temple and he wiped it on his shoulder without breaking pace; he had been holding Remus up with the help of the door for over ten minutes, and he was finally starting to feel a slight burn. Remus’ turned his face to the side as his whole body tensed, bracing against the doorjamb with one arm and gripping under Sirius’ shoulder with the other.

“Anything,” he moaned.

“You have to be quiet, mon loup.” Sirius nosed along the glistening expanse of Remus’ neck, leaving bites and kisses in his wake.

“I can’t.”

“Be good for me.”

“ ‘m trying, promise.” Remus’ shaking thigh dug into his waist as he tried to breathe through it, only for a whimper to escape when Sirius sucked a mark beneath his collarbone.

“I can make you, if I have to.”

He heard Remus’ breath catch, hitching between thrusts, and Sirius kept one hand on each side of his ass to support him. He locked his ankles at the small of Sirius’ back with a soft noise. “My mouth, I—your neck, please, please, I can’t reach.”

“I can’t get you—” He broke off with an oh of his own as Remus tightened around him. “—close enough, not like this.”

“Fuck,” Remus huffed. His teeth slid over his lower lip again; an idea sprang to life in Sirius’ mind.

“You want something in your mouth, mon amour?”

“Yes, yes, pl—”

Sirius interrupted him by sliding two fingers into his mouth, muffling the answering moan. “Is that good?”

Remus nodded enthusiastically, running his tongue over the pads of Sirius’ fingers. The burn in his right arm grew a bit more intense without the help of the left to keep Remus up, but the change in position seemed to be doing something good—Remus’ eyes fluttered shut and his abs jumped at the feeling. Sirius’ fingertips buzzed with each sound he pulled from him, each slurred plea, each choked groan as Remus’ lips turned cherry red around them. The party was still roaring, but in the darkness of the PT room there was nothing but them and the door.

“Can you come like this?” Sirius asked, speeding up his pace by a degree. He didn’t want his arm to seize and drop Remus, but he wasn’t too keen on stopping the waves of pleasure crashing down his spine, either.

Remus paused, then nodded with some hesitation. “Dunno,” he managed around Sirius’ fingers. “Tired?”

“Just my arm,” Sirius admitted with a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I’m okay right now, though.”

“Mhmm—” Remus cut off with a sharp gasp and a series of short inhales; his hands dug into Sirius’ back muscles and he sucked hard on the digits pressing his tongue down.

“Like that?” Sirius circled his hips again and Remus’ eyes unfocused for a second as his dick twitched. “D’accord.”

After that, it was almost too easy. Sirius closed his eyes and kept his face tucked against the side of Remus’ neck as he shook closer to the edge with every passing moment, focusing less on the burn of his arm and more on the wet warmth around his fingers. A few stray tears of overwhelming pleasure dripped down Remus’ cheeks as he pushed back as best he could and Sirius hitched him higher up the door, kissing away the tracks. Within moments, their heartbeats and breaths were the only thing he could hear.

Remus mumbled some form of his name and Sirius pulled away from the collection of hickeys forming on his neck to kiss him on the side of the mouth; with great effort, Remus raised an unsteady hand and pulled Sirius’ away from his mouth. “Almost there,” he breathed, voice wound wire-taut. “Almost.”

“You earned it. À tout moment.” Any time. Remus’ face scrunched, his knee slid up to Sirius’ ribcage, and then Sirius wrapped his spit-slick hand around his shaft and he came with a shuddering exhale, gripping the backs of Sirius’ shoulders like his life depended on it as he swallowed his moans.

He was hot and tight and Sirius could feel both their rabbit-quick pulses—he moved both hands back to Remus’ ass and kept his face pressed close to his neck as he came with a bitten-back whine, his knees nearly giving out under him. As soon as his vision stopped blurring, he set Remus down and they both sank to the floor. “Holy shit,” Remus said at last, leaning his head on Sirius’ arm.

“Holy shit,” Sirius agreed.

Remus sat up and ran a hand down his face, using his abandoned shirt to wipe away the sweat and tearstains. “Thanks for sneaking into my old office for mindblowing sex.”

Sirius wasn’t sure his lungs would ever be at full capacity again. “No problem.”

They both laughed at that, then found they couldn’t stop. It took three full minutes for Sirius to catch his breath again, and the first thing he did was press a gentle kiss to Remus’ lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sirius said with a smile. “Do you think they miss us yet?”

“Are you kidding?” Remus snorted. “They probably haven’t realized we’re gone. Kasey and Nat ran off a good ten minutes before us, too, so it’s not like we did some scandalous new thing.”

“And alcohol.”

“And alcohol.” Remus pulled one of Sirius’ arms over his shoulders and cuddled into his side with a contented hum. “We’re going to have to clean this door, but I don’t think I can move yet.”

“Did you also store water and snacks in here, by chance?”

“I already feel bad about ruining Layla’s door. I’m not emotionally prepared to steal her food, too.”

“We can sneak to the bathroom in cinq minutes,” Sirius said, checking Remus’ watch with a yawn. “Dix minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” Remus repeated sleepily. “Then I’ll see if I can get those jeans on again.”

“Don’t remind me,” Sirius groaned.

“If that’s what happens when I wear them, those skinny jeans are staying on until I’m dead. Bury me in them.”

“Noted.”

A rapid knock on the door didn’t get even a flinch out of either of them. “Occupied,” Remus called.

“Dix minutes,” Sirius added as he closed his eyes. “Dix minutes.”

[obeymeluv]

Quick! Kiss Me! [Part 3 - Mammon]

Same rules apply from Part 2: thoughts are italicized and bolded. May be slightly NSFW because the boys have a crush on you and such. If anyone has suggestions for Asmo’s part or Belphie’s, I’m down to hear it. I kind of have one for Belphie but I feel it’s a little cliché.

Also, I’ve logged back in and started playing Obey Me! since I have a three day weekend and the “Are You Kidding Me?!” event is making me want to write those baby headcanons. Might do that next.

Mammon:

You’d been following a buzzing, bubbling sensation around the house. It was enough to make your teeth rattle at points and you wondered if one of the brothers were using shadow magic to stay on the fringes of your vision (or just out of it). Sometimes it would feel like you were right on top of it, your whole body feeling like loose change in a can, and just as quickly it would stop. The cold wash of going the wrong way was a welcome reprieve.

Exhausted, feeling like you’d lapped the house several times, you dragged yourself back to your bedroom. It wasn’t very romantic but at this point you’d had it! The only thing your poor brain could think of was texting them one by one and just kissing them. If you were honest with yourself, you wouldn’t even need to text all seven. If you were really honest with yourself, you just wanted to text one of them.

And he was in your bed, cuddled into your pillows and half-wrapped in your sheets like he was supposed to be there.

Was he asleep?

You resisted the urge to stomp your foot or startle Mammon awake. His jacket was tossed haphazardly over your small desk chair but his sunglasses had been placed with care on your nightstand. Mammon? You placed on knee on the bed, planning to crawl towards him from the opposite corner. Mammon tended to wake up swinging and flailing; you remembered Belphie yanking him off of “his” spot on the couch but not before he’d fluffed his pillow and took a defensive stance.

Your little brain tap was enough to make him snort and stretch but not open his eyes. Tanned limbs dragged themselves across twisted sheets. He sounded like he’d mumbled something but you couldn’t be sure. You were sure he’d scooped up another pillow to stuff his face in and squeeze to death.

Was that a giggle? Mammon gave a contented little hum, snuggling his face into the new, cool pillow. Mammon! you tried again. It was weird to speak with your brain. Could you raise your voice just by thinking it? You froze in the middle of the bed, Mammon snapping up with a slow blink and a confused slur (and a huffy demon gurgle).

If he wasn’t hugging the pillow, he probably would’ve swung his arms out or fallen out the bed and taken half the sheets with him. Mammon blinked again, his white brows furrowing as he scanned the room. He leaned forward and you barely remembered how utterly blind he was as you watched the sleep lift from blue-yellow eyes.

“So who was the lucky—“ Mammon started off in his fake ‘I’m not interested’ tone but the words died out before he could make them any more indifferent. “Your lips are still sealed shut.” he lurched forward, your noses practically touching. “Your lips are still sealed shut!” he whispered again breathlessly, the quickness of his words matching the excited pulse in his throat.

Mammon’s heart squeezed in his chest. His mouth dried and suddenly he couldn’t think of anything to say. This wasn’t how he thought your first kiss would be but Diavolo be damned if he’d turn it down! The demon could barely filter his desire for you, trying to keep the YES! GIMME! KISS ME, KISS ME! in his head and out of yours. His face started to heat up when the pact mark on your shoulder glowed a soft golden color, painting both of your faces in a candlelight-like glow.

The tiniest part of his awed brain could feel his mouth slipping open in shock. You were a vision with golden highlights. Golden highlights from his pact mark! It made him want to take you on a fancy restaurant date and see it again.

Mammon? you were waiting on him now, ever so careful. So considerate. That’s what he loved about you. You put up with a lot of his walls and his loud behavior but deep down you knew. He knew you knew, and he was glad you kept his secret.

The people who made the loudest echoes were often the most fragile. He was a giving heart that had been corrupted against his will, and he had not totally hardened with the fall. You saw those scars and chips and cracks and somehow healed all of it with your human hands. With your smile. Your touch.

Hell, you just saying his name could wipe centuries of suffering from his mind.

“Was I your first choice?” Mammon’s voice turned raspy and tight. He couldn’t bear to hear you say you’d gone to one of the others first. He’d seen you going from room to room, slinking around the house in a way only the second-eldest could master. Years of trying to slip out past curfew and make off with a few odds and ends no one would miss without getting caught had its perks. Watching you touch doors and turn halls gutted him and drove him to seek refuge in your room.

He’d consoled himself amongst your pillows—your scent—and tried not to cry. Even if you didn’t choose him, he’d still have you as a friend. Maybe an in-law. That didn’t stop the cold twisting in his guts or the burning anguish in his chest as he realized over and over that he was one of seven. The other six were better than him, he feared. He was just scummy, scummy Mammon.

You don’t think you are? You tilted your head as you looked at him, hands coming up to comb gently through his hair and massage the bottom of his ears. Your hands smoothed down his neck, drawing him into a hug that was just…very you. Comforting and genuine and wholesome. He felt it first physically, then emotionally as your pact mark burned a little brighter.

You dummy, it was so light, so teasing and gentle that Mammon couldn’t help but smile as you cupped his face and brought his lips up to yours. “Of course you’re my first choice. You’re my first man, aren’t you?”

Mammon realized you said that with your mouth--your open mouth—and he exploded into a rolling yayayayaya victory warble. His eyes were a molten yellow, almost as bright as Diavolo’s (maybe brighter). Tears beaded in his eyes and Mammon blinked them away, stuffing his face into your neck as he tackled you to the bed. A burst of heat rolled over you as his horns came out a hot skin touched yours, the demon greedily snuggling into like he’d finally found his home.

He was scenting you with all his snuggling and ‘settling’ but you didn’t mind, patting his back and running your fingertips across the seams in his black jacket. In all his ‘settling’ you’d been turned onto your side and scooped up by him. Mammon locked his arms around you, feet tangling with yours. He’d tucked you under his chin to keep you away from his horns. “I can’t believe you took so long!” he whined, fingers playing with your hair, “making me wait like that! I’m a busy guy, you know?”

“I can take your place if you’re so busy!” you saw a hint of Asmo in the doorway and probably Levi behind him before Mammon’s wing blocked your view. They’d been called by the noise Mammon made earlier.

“Get lost, the lot of ya!” Mammon flapped his free wing at them. He hugged you closer and you briefly wondered if this what a dragon did with their hoard. You laughed at the thought. “This is my human! And my human is spending time with their first man!” he’d made a little tent out of his wing, peeking down at you with pride and love and a little hesitancy that begged you to back him up because his embarrassment was outweighing his ability to run his smart mouth.

You responded by kissing his chest, little kitten kisses that climbed his throat and jaw and could definitely be heard with demon ears. Popping out from just under his wing, you pecked his lips. His nose just to catch him off guard. “It’s very personal time.” you teased, rubbing his shoulders as his wing unfolded to show you off, sitting happily atop your man.

There were scowls and little demon grumbles you’d never be able to understand, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t even hear them over the sound of Mammon’s purr.