#got through about a day and a half of that

[i2sunric]

HOLD YOUR BREATH (s.jy)

pairing: detective!jake x reader (f)

summary: not having seen your husband’s face in two days, you decide to bring him dinner and check up on him— sleep deprived and stressed, he can’t help but get a taste of you.

warnings: 1960s au. mentions of murder, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), pussy eating, pussy drunk jake (r we even surprised), semi-public sex, choking, p in v, jake is a detective, jake wears glasses, sex on desk, dirty talking, pet names (baby, love, darling), wall sex, breeding kink, cream pie, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

wc: 3.7k

published: 11th June 2024

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore @bangtancultsposts s @shawnyle (oneshot) @kirinaa08 @immelissaaa @skzenhalove @anittamaxwynnn @honeybunnee @cherlv

a/n: based on this ask from anon! sorry if it took me a while to prepare it, hope you like it tho <3 please LIKE & REBLOG!

Being a detective in the 60s wasn’t easy at all. With all the danger occurring and newly killers all walking around, trying to take lives as if they were useless, you couldn’t help but bite your nails as you waited for Jake at home.

But being a detective’s wife was even more difficult. The constant dread fuelling your heart until it was too heavy to carry.

One late Friday night, you were sitting by the kitchen table all alone. The warm June air hitting your skin since you left your window open, watching as the sun was beginning to set.

You had already deep cleaned the whole apartment, probably not even a single crumb of dust was left.

Then, you rearranged the books on the shelves.

In the morning, alphabetically and in the afternoon from the oldest to the newest. Ridiculous.

Utterly bored, you had even painted your nails of a weird shade of green that matched your favourite blouse-skirt set.

You weren’t even being dramatic, given the fact that your only company hadn’t shown his face at home for two days.

Date a detective, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.

It was everything but fun or entertaining, since you spent most of the time alone, due to his crazy schedules.

But you loved Sim Jake too dearly to even consider confronting him about it.

You heard a few stories about old ladies’ nieces at the hair salon you worked who got forced into marriage and you were so glad it hadn’t happened to you.

Because you knew it, bet your heart on it that Jake would always choose you first.

You glanced at the clock that ticked half past seven and like the perfect wife you were, you began to wonder if Jake was even taking care of himself. Had he eaten enough? Had he even eaten at all?

So, rolling up your sleeves, you cooked a delicious meal to bring him to his workplace. Inside the small lunch box was some warm miso soup and vegetables for his big, sexy brain.

Repressing the shiver that ran through your spine when you stepped out of your house and immediately spotted a ‘Missing Person’ sign, you started walking down the familiar road. You just thanked the sun was still high enough to bring some natural source of light.

You reached his office when it was dark already, having walked almost one hour away. Cursing the heels you forced yourself to wear even as your feet screamed for help, you knocked on the door.

The new detective Jake introduced you at a dinner showed up, bright smile and innocence plastered on his face “Hello! Miss Sim.”

You smiled back “Good evening, Mister Kim.” Sunoo stepped aside from the door “Looking for Detective Sim?”

You hummed as you took in the sight of the very dark hallway “Third door on the left, is that right?”

Sunoo nodded happily, “You remembered.” He then placed one hand on the side of his mouth to whisper “But I warn you, he’s not in the brightest mood.”

Oh goodness. “Thank you for the information.” You said as you walked away, to the door that led to your husband’s office.

Softly knocking on the door, you waited for his response, and when his grumpy “What?” From the other side, you decided to open the door.

And there your husband was, his hair sticking to every direction while his glasses almost fell down his nose bridge.

Jake was playing billiards, leaning against the table as he desperately tried to get in the ball. A simple task that seemed not to work for him, since he looked so distressed.

A cigar balanced between his upper and bottom lip, its smoke lingering in the air.

When his chocolate brown eyes finally settled on your figure, they softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

“Y/N.” Jake breathed out, placing down the pool stick on the table and walking towards you as you closed the door “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you dinner.” You raised the lunch box in your hand, smiling “Figured you might need it.”

His brows knitted, a frown appearing on his face “You walked here all alone?” He glanced at the clock that ticked nine already “It’s dangerous, baby.” Don’t let yourself be fooled by the sweet nickname, his tone was low and rather pissed.

Being in contact with crime most of his day, Jake grew very protective of you, and directly imposed that you wouldn’t go out without him — or any male friend — after six pm.

You shook your head and let out a small sigh “I’m here, aren’t I?” You said as you walked towards his desk to place down the lunch box.

“Besides, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You tilted your head, resting your back on the table “Haven’t you missed me?”

“Christ, Y/N.” He walked toward you right away, closing the space you had put “I missed you like crazy.”

He dropped his head low and sighed tiredly “But there has been another murder and we can’t figure out who the culprit is. I’m in deep-sea here.”

You gently cupped his cheek in your small palm and rubbed your thumb “Maybe you should take a break?” You suggested “Working too hard fries your brain.”

Jake nodded “Maybe I should.” He murmured and looked behind his shoulders “Wand to play pool?”

You grimaced “You know I can’t play that game.” His lips twitched into a smile wrapping a strong arm around your waist. "I could teach you." He told you, lowering his head and brushing his lips against your ear.

You placed your hands with your newly polished nails on his clothed chest, right under his shoulders "I'm afraid I'm a lost case at this game, even for the greatest detective in town."

Jake chuckled lowly and tilted his head to press his lips against your own, sliding a hand downward to grip your thigh. He parted his lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth and tilting you backwards in between his body and the desk.

Jake took the opportunity to grip your thigh and spread it apart, too eager to even care about having a make out session first. He slipped his hand under your skirt and groaned when he felt your folds right under his fingers.

"Goodness, you didn't seem to be wearing anything." Jake mumbled against your lips before trailing his own down your jawline and to your neck.

His fingers pressed against your core and he groaned lowly, sliding his fingers across your entrance.

You let out a quiet gasp at the feeling and let out a small chuckle before his fingers delved deeper inside of you, moving in and out of your wetness while kissing across your jawline.

"You seem quite needy already, love." He mumbled with his gravelly voice. You grasped the back of his head and rested your forehead on his, your eyes never leaving his.

He kissed the tip of your nose, such a gentle gesture in contrast to the filthy thing he was doing to your body, the sound of your slickness pooling down your thighs and on his wrist filled the room— until it was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Cursing under his breath for not having locked the door when you first came in, and not having foreshadowed his fingers deep inside you, he pressed a finger on his lips to shush you. “Who is it?” He then asked.

“Detective Sim?” Someone’s voice came from the other side “The captain wants to speak with you, sir.”

He was about to turn the doorknob when Jake said “Busy at the moment.”

The other detective stepped back from the door but didn’t walk away. “It’s important.” He said bluntly.

You thought that at those words, Jake would leave you there on the table and go doing his job, instead he curled his finger inside of you, making you press a hand on your mouth to middle a moan.

“You can tell me from there.” The detective began speaking and Jake looked down at you, his eyes darkened as he continued to move his fingers in a circular motion inside of you. "Keep quiet, mh?" He whispered to you, his tone smug.

You let out a shaky breath and grasped his forearm, doing your best to not let out any noise.

He let out a low chuckle, curling his fingers again to draw a moan from you. "Shh, you have to be quiet." He whispered and the detective continued to speak.

Not like you could focus on what he was saying with the way his fingers worked you closer to the edge.

“About the murder cases we were working on…” The detective said, “I have an update.”

Jake tilted his head at the mention of the case and kept his fingers moving inside you. "And what is the update?" He called out, not letting up his movements at all.

You couldn’t take it anymore and tried to remove his wrist, "Detective Park found a similarity with the other two murders, seems like the culprit puts a small signature."

Jake ignored your piss-poor attempt to stop him as he continued to talk to the detective with a nonchalant tone.

"What sort of signature?" He questioned, a smirk on his lips while he continued his movements with a particular curling of his fingers.

Your legs shook as he kept hitting your sweet spot “He cuts the ring finger's nail of all the victims." The detective informed him.

Upon hearing the information Jake's eyes widened slightly before moving his sight back down to you. His fingers continued their ministrations, drawing more tremors from your body though his mind was working at the new information revealed to him.

Not hearing any reaction from the inside, Jake’s colleague added “Detective park said to find him when you aren't... busy?” He cleared his throat and for a second you thought he guessed what was happening “I'll tell him you'll talk to him later?"

Your husband hummed lowly as he thought back to the information, continuing to work his fingers in and out of you as if it helped him think. "Yes, I will come talk to him after." He told the detective with a steady voice, his eyes taking in your expression while his gaze darkened.

With the dismissal, the person’s steps went away until they completely disappeared. Jake smirked and moved his fingers faster, curling on your g-spot.

He lowered his head, pressing his lips against the side of your neck and up to your earlobe. "Just a little more, love." He whispered in your ear.

You moaned shakily, now finally able to let it out. You wrapped one arm around his neck to steady yourself as the other rested behind you.

You clenched around his two digits, the knot in your stomach tightening.

Jake let out a soft growl in your ear, his fingers curling against your sweet spot. "Not yet, wait." He demanded.

“W-what?” You frowned, unable to stop the euphoria creeping in “Why?”

Jake smirked against your ear "I'm not done with you yet, love." he mumbled huskily before taking your lobe in his mouth and sucking on it.

His fingers worked you until another moan nearly escaped your lips and he took that opportunity to capture them in his own "Quiet, you don't want anyone to hear you being a noisy little thing, do you?"

You shook your head as you threw it back, your hair dangling in the air and eyes squeezing. You bucked your hips to meet his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit.

Jake titled his head at the sight, looking ever so gorgeous. He added a third digit inside of you, but it stretched you so good to the point of pain. You couldn’t help but whimper out loud.

Jake chuckled at your reaction and his tongue delved between your lips when you whined, muffling your sounds. "Shh, you're being too loud, baby." He bit your bottom lip.

You clenched around his digits, walls taking them in “T-too much.” You murmured.

He hummed lowly and slowed his pace slightly, bringing one arm to grip your waist again. "You can handle it, can't you, baby?" Hequestioned as his fingers began to curl against your sensitive spot to ease your discomfort.

At the feeling, so full and good, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head “T-there.” You moaned helplessly “Keep going.”

“Be quiet for me.” He demeaned and curled his fingers at a speed you weren’t even sure was possible.

You looked down at where your bodies collided and couldn’t help but let out a moan, your slickness was pooling down his wrist onto the floor, making a whole mess.

Jake followed your gaze and smirked at the sight, “You like this? Mh?”

You nodded “Yes, Jake.” Your eyes were half lidded as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten “Like it. So good.”

Jake titled your chin up to meet his dark eyes and raised a brow, your walls sucking his digits in “Are you close, baby?”

Like the expert of your body that he was, he knew all the signs to pick up. “Yes— I’m so—“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence, that one particular curl on the spongy wall made your body shake in release.

Jake’s arms wrapped around you, holding your body against his as you quaked, “Good girl." He mumbled in your ear, his fingers continuing their work until you came down from your high.

He pressed a soft kiss to your jawline, his fingers slowly pulling out of and he smirked as they came out slick with your release. "You were so good for me, darling." he mumbled against your ear.

He pulled his fingers to his mouth and sucked them, he hummed “Love the taste of you.”

Jake gently gave your arm a light squeeze before moving you to the side. You watched him through puzzled eyes until you saw him pushing on the floor all of his files.

“Baby?” You asked and he only replied with a smile. He pressed his lips against your neck, sucking and biting on the soft flesh while he moved his hands to the back of your thighs.

“Now..." He mumbled as his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up.

You widened your eyes when you noticed how he placed you on the desk and rested your thighs on his shoulders, kneeling in front of you “There we go.”

“J-jake?” You asked, looking down at him. He winked at you “Just relax." He mumbled softly as his lips began to trail across your thighs.

Your body twitched at the feeling, his featherlight kisses sending waves of pleasure.

Jake trailed his lips up until they were close to your core, his breath fanning against your sensitive skin.

“Wait.” You tried to stop him by pressing one hand on his hair. “You haven’t been touched yet.”

He chuckled again, looking back up at you from his position in between your legs. "Don’t worry about me, love. This is about you." He whispered, blowing on your pussy.

You rolled your eyes back and Jake took the opportunity to swipe his tongue slowly on your core, tasting your juices and your previous cum.

“Oh, Lord.” You moaned out, grasping his hair into your hand, knuckles almost white.

He hummed as the taste of you hit his tongue, drawing a low groan from him.

Your breath grew heavy, slowly guiding his head to lick in the spots you were the most sensitive.

“You taste wonderful, love.” He whispered, sucking on your clit.

You unconsciously bucked your hips, not in control of your body anymore as it succumbed to the pleasure.

Jake chuckled and pressed a hand on your hip, pinning it down to keep you from moving while his tongue continued circles against your sensitive spot. "Stay still for me, darling." He mumbled, continuing his movements.

You arched your back and grasped his hair and he could tell that you were already close to the edge.

So, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your entrance, making you moan out as the warm and spongy feeling made your whole mind black out.

His eyes never left your expression as he watched you closely. He was enjoying making you squirm, moaning out his name.

And just like thunder crashing, your body shuddered while you squirted right on Jake’s face.

You widened your eyes, unable to stop the overwhelming feeling of pleasure as you basically screamed-moaned. At that point, you were sure even people on the streets knew what you two were up to.

However, Jake seemed very content with it. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his suit. “Pussy so good, makes my day better.” Your liquid was dripping down his glasses and jaw.

“I made a mess.” You whispered, propping yourself up on your elbows “And?” Jake raised a brow, pulling your chin in a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue “I love your messes.”

“I want to help you.” You stated, palming his angry hard-on “You already made me cum twice.”

“We don’t have protections.” He murmured, kissing your lips once, then twice “I don’t want inconveniences to happen.”

The thought of him breeding you made your mind fill with primal urges, but you tried to negotiate “You can pull out.”

Jake shook his head, resting it on your shoulder “I don’t have self control when it comes to you.” He kissed your clothed shoulder.

“A blow?” You questioned, caressing the little hair he had behind his head. Jake chuckled again, “I’m too rough and I don’t want to ruin your cute attire.”

His gaze travelled down to your hand that helped you hold yourself up and smiled “You put nail polish on? It suits you.”

How he managed to make your heart flutter after literally having you shake, you weren’t sure. Maybe he had a talent.

“I wanted to be pretty for you.” You chuckled, “Can’t ruin your reputation.”

No matter how much Jake tried to talk you out of sex in his office, the way he was slowly rutting his hips on your inner thigh gave him away.

He occasionally let out small hums in between his words, and you knew damn well he must be feeling so pained.

So, you slowly climbed down the desk and looked at him. He showed you a nice smile, oblivious to the contorted plants you had in mind. His lips dropped into a frown at the same moment your skirt dropped to your ankles.

“Y/N?” He asked, raising a brow as you began to unbutton your blouse, showing your silk bra.

If Jake had one weakness apart from eating you out, then it was your boobs. He loved them, worshipped them day and night.

His eyes darkened at such sight, walking towards you right away and pushing you against the wall.

“You drive me insane.” He whispered, unzipping his pants and letting them drop to the floor “You fuck my head.”

You watched him with excitement bubbling your stomach, he gripped your bare thigh and raised your leg until it was around his waist.

You looked down at his hard cock, pressing against your stomach “Watch me stretch this pussy out.” He said as he aligned himself with your entrance and thrusted inside of you.

You were so wet and sensitive, your skin burning against his. Jake gripped your ass so tight it would surely leave a mark by the next day, he rutted his hips inside of you at a fast speed.

“I don’t think I’ll last long.” He warned, “I feel you much better without a condom.”

You clenched around his length as his admission, making him groan. He pulled you into a heated kiss as he kept moving his hips, desperately chasing the relief he longed for.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, grip on your skin painful “Fuck, you were made for me.”

With one skilled hand, he undid your bra and palmed your breasts, his tip hitting your cervix, making you moan.

Jake lowered his head onto your chest and began sucking on your nipple, circling his tongue around it “Ah, Yes!” You chanted out.

Without missing a beat, Jake changed tit and did the same thing to the other.

“So deep.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as the familiar feeling of euphoria reached you for the third time “So good.”

“Yes baby,” He grunted, one hand sneaking up to wrap around your neck “You’re so good for me, so good.”

The sudden loss of air made you clench around him, your walls hugging his cock, sucking him in.

“Fuck— Stop clenching like that.” He huffed, squeezing his eyes just like you did “I’m already so close.”

“I don’t want you to pull out.” You placed one hand on his cheeks, brown eyes boring into yours “What?”

“I want you to cum inside of me.” A rather deep thrust “Your babies, I want them, I don’t care.”

“Oh goodness.” Jake grunted, his hips moving almost manically “You’ll be the death of me.”

You pulled him into a kiss which wasn’t exactly one, you two were just moaning and breathing into each other’s mouths.

“Are you sure, love?” He asked, drops of sweat coating his forehead, his bangs sticking to it “We can’t undo this.”

“I’m so sure.” You moaned out “Cum inside of me.”

At those words, Jake shot his load deep inside of you, filling you up with his warm seed.

You whimpered, grasping his forearm when the orgasm hit you as well, making you clench around him.

He held you against the wall, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

You smiled and removed one bang from his eye, caressing his cheek with your thumb “This was the craziest shit I’ve ever done.”

You slowly rocked your hips, needing to feel him more, needing his cum to stay inside of you.

Jake groaned and rested his forehead on yours “Damn baby, if this is how it’ll end up every time you visit, I hope you do it more often.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well😊

I’ve been stalking your blog for a while and I love how you write the dc boys and was wondering if I could request a head cannon or small blurb?

So, one of my guy friends has a list of things written in his iPhone about his girlfriend, like her favorite food, flower, color, possible gift ideas, any and all anniversaries, etc. just a long list of everything he can think of pertaining to her. It got me thinking about Jason/Tim/Dick having something similar on their phone for their SO. Maybe the reader finds it one day while scrolling through their phone and they just 🥺❤️❤️ while their boy get flustered lol

Dick

Dick had a list on his phone specially made for you and while to some it would seem like what he had listed were mundane or not all that interesting, but that couldn’t be less then the truth to him as everything pertaining to you was worth jotting down and remembering.

From the way you liked your tea/coffee, your comfort movie and or tv show, right down to the way you always wanted to go on a date to a proper aquarium one day, all of this and so much more was taken into account as Dick often used this knowledge for brainstorming your next date night.

He takes it extremely seriously as he wanted everything to be worthwhile for you and also the fact that he’d get to see you smile as brightly as you did, it was his Achilles heel and Dick wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

So one day when he was writing down ideas on where to where to take you for your next date, you were just so happened to be in the room to take notice how on he left his phone open as he went into another room for one reason or another, and got curious as to what he had been so concentrated on; and what you found was enough to melt your heart.

In an extremely long list was filled to the brim with things about you that dick loved/took notice of and adored that even you yourself didn’t notice doing half of these things. It was like as though Dick saw more to you than you ever did and it made you feel…well loved.

‘Aww Dick. Is this list all about me?’ You asked as you read further down the list as Dick burrowed his face into your neck as he held you from behind after seeing you read the list on his phone.

‘It’s not like I can deny it now can I darling,’ he said, tightening his hold on you as he felt his cheeks fluster slightly, he’s not use to someone reading his innermost thoughts and feelings and now that someone has he’s not use to the feeling he was currently experiencing.

‘There’s even stuff in here that I’ve told you ages ago.’ You exclaimed, looking over at him with adoration. ‘You’re amazing you know that.’ You praised him, kissing his forehead softly.

‘So I’ve been told but it means a hell of a lot more when you’re the one praising me.’ Dick chuckled as he kissed your neck, keeping you close as the list on his became long forgotten as you continued to smother your dickie bird in affection.

Jason

Jason’s list about was seemingly never ending with how often he was adding onto it with things that you did or have started doing just recently that he couldn’t get enough of.

He had things such as how you’d snuggle up in bed in one of his hoodies, cuddling the pillow on his side of the bed close to your chest whenever you were missing him and stuff like how you latch yourself onto him from behind and chomping down on his shoulders and biceps when you wanted some attention from him.

Anything and everything you did that made his heart melt into a puddle was there and as mentioned beforehand it was growing on a daily basis.

So when you came across this list of his, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were seeing yourself through his own eyes for the first time, and seeing just how serious he was about you from his long and detailed list on just about everything you’ve ever done before and during your relationship.

There were even parts where he would go on about how cute you were during certain moments and how he’d take you to special places for dates when given enough time, and being amazed at how he’d remembered something you had brought up in passing several months ago.

Jason had taken every single detail about you and show just how much he loved them by keeping a list of them on his phone so that he doesn’t ever forget. Perks of being a hopeless romantic who’s read every Jane Austen book in existence. You had consumed his mind, body and soul and this listen only proved it as you delved in just how much you seemingly were on your pretty boy’s mind, much to his embarrassment.

‘Sweetheart.’ He droned from behind you. ‘You weren’t learnt to see that.’

‘Why not?’ You asked, holding his phone close to your chest, pouting, wanting to read more of his list about you and your many, many, many attributes that he adored like no other.

‘It was meant to be kept a secret so that I could surprise you on our next date.’ Jason told you with flustered cheeks at the fact that you now knew just how deeply he thought of you.

You only smiled at him as you peppered his face in kisses. ‘You’re such a hopeless romantic.’ You teased. ‘I love it.’

‘Only for you sweetheart, only for you.’ Jason murmured as he leaned in for more face kisses.

Tim

‘You shouldn’t be reading that.’ Tim would say when he found you reading the embarrassingly long list that he had specifically made for you and everything he’s known about you since you started dating. Tim was smart to take safety procedures in most things, but he seemingly forgot that you could easily access his phone that he had left open by accident.

‘Why not, are you embarrassed?’ You asked, smiling at how hellbent your boyfriend was on getting you to stop read in the list that he himself had made.

‘No, it’s just-‘

‘I’m only teasing sweet Tim, I think it’s really sweet that you made a list all about me.’ You interpret him as you reached out to hold his hand, squeezing it reassuringly when you felt his nervousness, kissing the back of it for good measure.

‘You really are a pain.’ Tim groaned as he plopped himself down next to you, still not over the fact that he was left his phone open for anyone to read just how badly your hold over him was, he thanked god that it was you who came across it rather then his siblings. Tim would never be able to live it down if someone like Damian or Jason or god forbid Dick had found his big little list about his perfect partner.

It had everything from your comfort foods, to that childhood plush that you held tremendous sentimental value towards, and things that you’ve mentioned once or twice that didn’t seem like much but were more then worth writing down and kept for future reference.

He couldn’t help it, there was so much about you that was worth writing down as you meant a lot to Tim and he found often found himself coming up with complex ideas for something as simple as your future date nights. Most were mainly date nights spend at home but neither of you were complaining if it meant spending quality time together, regardless of where that might end up being.

‘Well that’s odd because if I was then you wouldn’t have made the equivalent to an Google docs on me.’ You cheekily said, bumping your shoulder with his as he groaned, covering his face with his hands but the tips of his ears were beet red. God he was cute when he wasn’t being sarcastic and a smart ass. ‘I hate you.’ He said, voice muffled by his hands.

You smiled as you kissed the hands covering his face before leaning your head against his shoulder. ‘I love you too Tim Drake, more than anything.’

[murdrdocs]

oral (f receiving); r wears a skirt (bc i said so!); MDNI 18+ w/ UNSPECIFIED M

you knew you would end up in this position eventually.

you didn’t know how long it would take—how much he would be able to take—before you got here. you didn’t know what here would look like, if he would be so needy that he would sacrifice comfortability in his knees and kneel on a pillow, or if he would control himself enough to get you to a bed or a couch or something. but you knew, by the end of the night, the two of you would end up here.

here just happens to be sooner than you thought and in a bathroom tucked away at the end of a hall.

you joked about being in the backrooms through echoed giggles, two pairs of shoes clicking against the linoleum floors while you let him drag you around corners and down halls and eventually to a, surprisingly clean, bathroom.

he has you sitting on the counter, your upper half pushed into the mirror behind you with your lower half pushed as close to the edge as you could get. if it hadn’t been completely uncomfortable, you knew he would’ve maneuvered you until you were lying down with your lower half left hovering in the open air. but he’s kind, he’s a gentleman as he likes to remind you at least a dozen times a day.

so instead of putting you in a position that’s uncomfortable, and instead of compromising the instrument he needed for his work, he has your ass sitting on the last remaining sliver of the counter.

your skirt, the other object of his affections, has been bunched up under your waist, held there by your trembling hand. your legs spread as wide as they could go. your panties hanging off of your shoe, dangling there, threatening to fall to the ground.

it's debauched, all of it. he has things to do. he shouldn’t be here, with you, burying his head between your thighs like it’ll give him the same satisfaction that the meal waiting for him would.

but he is here. he is devouring you like you have nutritional value. and you would just be plain ungrateful if you didn’t enjoy it.

so, you do.

your back arched, your nails digging into the fabric of your skirt, your other hand pressed into the counter beneath you.

you’re trying to be quiet, refusing to let your noises echo and travel all the way down the hall. but it’s hard keeping silent when he’s doing as much as he can to generate sounds.

sucking and licking your clit, alternating between swirling his tongue around the bud. dipping his fingers into your walls, making sure you can feel the callouses on them as he gets deeper and deeper within you. even going as far as to take his fingers out, lead them to your mouth, and let you suck them clean while he dirties his own mouth, digging his tongue into your entrance and shaking his nose against your clit.

“lemme hear you,” he briefly pulls away from you to reprimand you when you clearly strangle a moan.

he reconnects his mouth to your cunt and peers up at you then, his hair sticking to his forehead from sweat from this and his job. his eyes shine from the light behind you, his cheeks are still flushed, there is a particular glisten along his nose and pink lips.

you adjust your grip on the skirt and it falls onto your thighs, landing at the tops of his dark hair. he tuts, you feel the sound against you rather than hear it.

“keep it up, baby. don’t let it drop. you can do that, can’t you? there we go. just like that. you got it. ‘m almost done down here, right?”

it’s a lot. nearly too much. and it’s spurred on by what—adrenaline? the flowy skirt you decided to wear today?

it doesn’t make sense to you. but you don’t try to reason with him, not when he’s so intently focused.

you swallow, mouth suddenly dry, but muster up the courage to speak to him for the first time since he got you here. “so … you’re so … so fuckin’—“

when he responds, he’s earnest and lacking the cockiness you’re used to hearing from him. “right there? yeah? you always like it right there.”

it’s like he’s talking to himself (or maybe your cunt but that’s too much to consider when you’re already on the precipice of pleasure). you don’t have it in you to try to respond, letting his words ring out around you both. letting them sit in the air along with the smell of your cunt and his sweat, purifying the air with an aroma so uniquely you and him that you want to cement it in your brain.

really, there’s no reason to. you’ll be in a similar position in due time. as long as you wear this skirt again.

you’re close and you’re a little too enthusiastic, pushing towards him even more and when your ass almost slips off of the counter, he’s quick to help you with two thick hands against the back of your thighs.

“don’t worry. i got you, baby. i got you.”

[penguintimes]

Not my fault || Fridolina Rolfö x Reader (18+)

Summary: You tease Frido.

Popped back after a month to drop a fic. Hope everyone enjoys! Feedback is very welcome.

It was Frido’s fault, really.

It was in the morning, when she stepped out of the bedroom dressed in a pair of leather pants that hugged her ass perfectly and a short sleeved white blouse. Her golden hair framed her face perfectly, tickling you when she bent down to kiss you goodbye as she left for media day.

It was almost unfair how she had towered over you, brushing her lips so gently over yours, her larger hands cradling your head. You felt small.

You weren’t particularly short by any means. You were around 165cm, which was average height. Of course, Frido was anything but average, and you certainly did not dislike it.

The feeling of her being so clearly physically superior, though… It sent a rush of excitement between your legs. While her kiss had been nothing but chaste, you were left standing in the kitchen with a racing heartbeat, breathing heavily as your coffee got cold.

It was just your luck that she would be gone the entire day. Frido was also incredibly possessive over your orgasms, and had a diabolical sixth sense for whether you disobeyed her or not, so you couldn’t just quickly take care of yourself in her absence.

So that left you with only one choice. Suffer through your persistent yearning for your girlfriend.

You had planned on having a quiet day reading or watching tv on your couch. You disliked going out frequently, so it had seemed like the ideal day in.

You couldn’t possibly have predicted the predicament you would find yourself in. You simply could not focus. Every sentence in your book was read and then forgotten just as quickly. Every page was reread multiple times before you could even begin to claim to have registered what was written.

All you could focus on was the increasingly difficult to ignore ache between your legs.

After half an hour of struggling through your book (which you had been very excited about), you gave up and turned on the tv. Perhaps a good series would take your mind off things.

No such luck. You tossed the tv remote on the coffee table in frustration, groaning. Rubbing your eyes desperately, you suddenly sat up as you had an idea.

It would land you in deep shit of course. Frido would take you apart with her sheer dominance. But you were desperate. And horny. You just wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine, although you knew she hadn’t intended to turn you on that morning.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself, it was purely selfish to want her to suffer as you were suffering.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you took a picture of your hand in your shorts, sending it to Frido with a cheeky “I miss you” text.

She didn’t see it immediately, so over the next hour or so, you sent her a string of pictures, each one more compromising than the last, along with a long chain of texts, ranging from innocent “i love you” texts to utterly filthy ones.

Finally, your phone rang. Smirking to yourself, you declined the call. It rang again, and you let it.

Your anticipation grew as you received a text from Frido, a simple “stop”.

Although it had done absolutely nothing for your frustration, you felt deeply satisfied in knowing that at the very least, Frido was probably feeling just as frustrated as you were.

The rest of the day was spent alternating between mindlessly watching trashy netflix shows and obsessively cleaning the already spotless apartment.

You entertained yourself by imagining what Frido would do to you when she got back home. Would she edge you until you begged her to let you come, or would she fuck you roughly until you begging from overstimulation?

Finally, you heard the sound of keys jingling in the locks. You stood up, half in anticipation and half in fear.

Frido walked in, an unreadable expression etched into her face. You stood there, frozen, not daring to say anything.

She silently took off her coat and put her keys on the counter, then approached you. You could liken the image to a panther stalking towards you. She stopped right in front of you, forcing you to crane your neck upwards to maintain the uncomfortable eye-contact that had you paralyzed.

It unnerved you deeply that she hadn’t spoken a word yet. Maybe you should say something.

You opened your mouth, then shut it abruptly as Frido’s jaw clenched.

She brought one of her large hands to the back of your neck, squeezing lightly and sending shivers through your entire body. Using your neck as leverage, she led you to the bedroom.

Closing the door behind her, she turned to observe you.

‘Care to explain yourself? And don’t lie to me.’ She glared at you, daring you to disobey.

You stayed silent, slightly regretting your decision-making.

‘Nothing?’ Frido growled, ‘You had so much to say earlier. What a shame.’

‘I’m sorry,’ You whispered, hanging your head half in shame, half in intense arousal.

‘Why?’ She hissed, ‘Because you’re a needy brat who got herself worked up and decided to distract me at work? Do you know how badly I’ve been losing my mind?’

‘I just-’ you tried to explain yourself, but Frido cut you off with a rough shove onto the bed.

‘Shut up and let me fuck you.’

She all but ripped your clothes off of you, kissing you roughly. Her hands wandered all over your naked torso, caressing your skin gently, or twisting your nipples cruelly. You gasped into her mouth, letting her slip her tongue deeper into your mouth.

You tried to pull her closer, but she promptly removed your wandering hands. She nipped and sucked along your jaw as you released a whine.

“Yeah? You like it when I kiss you there?”

Her lips wrapped around your sensitive pulse and you mewled pathetically. You tried to tug her hands down to where you needed her, but Frido grabbed your wrists in an iron grip and pinned them by your head. You struggled and squirmed under her weight as she tightened her grip

‘No,’ She said sternly, ‘Stay.’

You whimpered at her tone, but obeyed her.

She yanked your shorts off, smirking broadly at your glistening folds. It was already dripping down onto the bed. Frido spread your legs open with her hands splayed against your thighs and blew on your pussy lightly, chuckling as your hips bucked.

“Hmm, someone liked that.” she teased. ‘‘You’re absolutely dripping, älskling.’ She cooed, running a long finger through your slick. ‘Is this all for me?’

‘Yes,’ you gasped, your back arching as she applied a little pleasure onto your aching clit.

‘Did I get you so horny and desperate?’ Frido rubbed your clit gently, ignoring your cries of pleasure. ‘Poor thing, you must have been so wet and helpless all day, with no one to fill up this pretty pussy.’

‘Y-yes! Yes, like that!’ You moaned, as she touched you exactly how you wanted. You fisted the sheets tightly, hips bucking wildly into her touch. You could already feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten.

She slipped a finger into you without warning. Your back almost arched just from the relief of having your girlfriend’s fingers filling you up. She thrusted gently, and slipped another finger in you. Stroking your clit with her thumbs, her fingers curled into all the right spots, over and over again, until your legs started to clench You swore you were seeing stars. You just needed a little more-

Then, just like that, it was gone. Frido pulled away from you entirely, sucking on the taste of you on her fingers, leaving you panting and confused.

‘No!’ You whined, ‘Why’d you stop, come back!’

You closed your legs as you observed her clicking her tongue while rummaging around the drawers, still clothed. The thought that you were naked, exposed on the bed when she wasn’t had you feeling so vulnerable. The feeling of being so powerless, so owned, had your head spinning.

‘You know better than to think I’d just let you come so easily, älskling.’ She came back, holding a large strap-on in her hands. ‘Especially when you’ve been such a brat.’

Frido caressed your face with her knuckles.

‘You’ll take it how I give it to you. Understood?’

‘Y-yes.’

She hovered over you, frowning at your shut legs. Glancing up to look at you, she raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow up at you.

“Älskling,” she warned, “Spread your legs. I won’t ask again.”

You slowly opened your legs, exposing your slick to her once again. She smiled fondly at you.

“There we go.” She cooed, “So much better now, no? Now all you need to do is lay there and let me fuck you.”

Frudi pressed the head against your entrance, swiping up and down your folds before pressing in. You whimpered at the stretch, your smaller frame trembling in her arms, yours wrapping tightly around her back. This time, she let you pull her close.

“Shh, you can take it.” She whispered into your ear. “T-too much, too fast.” You cried into her neck, nuzzling for comfort as her cock spread your cunt open.

“You can take it.” She said firmly. “Weren’t you acting like a whore earlier? Bratting because you didn’t have enough cock in you?. No, you asked for it, and you’re going to take it.”

Frido started to thrust deeper and stronger, pulling pathetic moans from you. The pain and the pleasure molded together, tightening the knot in your stomach once again.

“Frido, baby!” You cried, going incoherent immediately after as her thrusts got rougher. She grunted softly, rutting harder into you at the sound of your sweet voice crying her name.

“Like that?” She said in your ear, biting your earlobe sharply, rolling your clit between her fingers. “You like when I fuck this pussy?”

“Y-yes!” You moaned, “I love when you fuck me.”

“Mine.” She growled, thrusting particularly deep. “My pussy. All mine. Only I can touch it. Not anyone else. Certainly not little brats like you. You better remember that, Älskling.”

“All yours.” You breathed, burying your face into her shoulder. “Your pussy.” The coil in your gut tightened so much, your legs started to shake around her waist. “Baby, I’m going to come.” You whined.

“Beg,” She demanded, circling your clit rapidly.

“Please!” You cried immediately as you hurtled closer to the edge. “Baby, please, please let me come! Please, I need it!”

“More.”

“Please, Frido! You make me feel so good! Please let me come, my pussy is yours, you own it.”

“Come,” She ordered, rubbing your throbbing clit. You tipped over the edge immediately, moaning loudly as hot white pleasure rushed through your body. Frido continued to fuck you through your high, prolonging your pleasure.

As you began to come down from the sheer amount of pleasure you felt, you realized Frido hadn’t slowed down her thrusts. Hips, jumping in sensitivity, you tried to bat away the hand that was still stroking your clit, just to find your hands yanked up and pinned down under a single iron grip.

You cried in sensitivity. “Frido, I can’t, it’s too much!” You squirmed uncomfortably under her, desperate to get away from her overwhelming touch.

“Does it hurt? Good.”

“Frido, please! I can’t!”

“You can and you will take it.” Frido hissed. “Weren’t you begging to come earlier? You were such a whore today, acting like a brat. Don’t worry though. I’ll be sure to keep filling this tight cunt, make sure you don’t feel needy anytime soon. I’ll fuck your attitude right out of you, Älskling.”

Before you knew it, you were coming again, screaming her name, your body spasming and bucking violently under her. Your vision went white as you clenched tightly around Frido. She stroked your back and slowed down her thrusts. You gasped for breath, still tightly wrapped around her.

Only when the strap shifted uncomfortably inside you did you unlatch yourself from Frido, pushing weakly at her. She slipped out of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You did so well, Älskling, letting me take care if you like that.”

“So good, baby.” You breathed. You shifted, then hissed in sensitivity at the movement.

“Maybe you’ll think of that next time you decide to act out, hm?” She chuckled, stroking your face.

“Rest up now, Älskling. We aren’t even close to done.”

[mydearesthrry]

casual - h.s.

a/n: self indulgent because i will never get over the fact that half of this happened to me literally verbatim because im a loser ok bye. this is my way of coping enjoy please i got so carried away ugh the impact of a british man hahaha. i suggest casual by chappell roan or …what are we? by lizzy mcalpine

wc: im guessing 1k>

warnings: angst thats really it harry’s lowkey a cunt but its not him ok. THIS IS FRAT BOY HARRY FOR THIS ONE!!!

y/n was startled to see her front door swing open, harry stepping into the threshold to get away from the cold air outside. “hi baby.”

“hey, h,” she replied, stepping up from her place on the couch to meet him where he was toeing off his shoes. “how was your day?”

y/n’s hands ran up his chest to his shoulders, pushing his coat off his figure and hooking it on the coatrack. “it was okay, how was yours?”

“fine, thank you,” she smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “tired, i guess.”

“that’s not good, princess, you need to get your sleep. can’t have my pretty girl all sleepy, hm?” he grinned, wrapping his arms around the girl and pressing a kiss into her temple.

“yeah, just had a lot on my mind recently, i guess.” she says through a sigh, unwrapping harry’s arms from her body, walking away from him toward the kitchen.

“like what?” harry questioned, following behind her like a puppy.

“i… nothing, it’s not important,” she considered it. she really did. but it just… she couldn’t find it in herself to ruin what they had so easily. to ruin them so easily. “don’t worry about me, really.”

harry physically recoiled as if he’d been burnt, “i want to worry about you, y/n. i want you to be okay, always.” he’d used her real name— a true indication that she’d offended him.

“i- i know, i’m sorry. i jus’ don’t wanna bother you with my stupid stuff.” she glanced up at him through her lashes, refusing to make eye contact.

“it it has to do with you, it’s not stupid. now, tell me, princess, what’s wrong?” he tried once more. he could tell that she was getting closer to telling him the truth, he just needed to coax it out of her.

“can we sit?” she asked, harry immediately nodding and grabbing her hand to lead her over.

“so, what’s on your mind?”

“i’m scared to tell you.”

harry looked confused then. “why?”

“because… if you don’t know, and i don’t know, then it doesn’t make sense for this to keep happening,” she paused. “and i don’t want to lose you.”

“wait, what are we even talking about? lose me? why would you lose m-“

“you confuse me.” that’s definitely one way to put it.

“what?” harry tilted his head, his hand still covering hers.

“i- it’s just, sometimes i really can’t tell if you want me, or if you’re just keeping me around just to keep me around. like, sometimes you treat me so platonically it confuses me, and then other times you’re rattling off how i’m the only one for you. i know we said no strings, i know, but i know you don’t really see me as a friend. there’s no way that this is just casual, harry.”

harry didn’t know what to say. staring down at their intertwined hands, he cleared his throat and bit at his lip.

“what is it, please just tell me what’s on your mind,” y/n pleaded, squeezing his hands.

“i… honestly don’t know, my love, im sorry,” he finally said, but he chose to twist the knife. “i don’t know what we are.”

oh.

oh.

“oh, um,” she whispered, sliding her legs off of harry’s knees, withdrawing her hands from his grasp to slide under her thighs. “yeah, i… i didn’t think you would.”

“i’m sorry, princess. you won’t lose me though, y’do know that, right?” he could sense her sadness like it was his own. his phone ringing distracted her from her thoughts, the name reading ‘Claire’, making a scoff leave her lips.

“go handle business, i’ll be upstairs.” y/n said coolly, standing from the couch once more. as she began her trek to the stairs, harry grabbed her wrist.

“don’t be like that.” he grumbled, pressing the pressure point between her thumb and pointer finger.

“be like what? i’m gonna go take a nap, didn’t you just tell me to get some rest?” she smiled, but he could see the hurt in her eyes.

not exclusive, more than friends, less than lovers. how could she be so naive?

“are you sure?”

“your phone’s still ringing.”

“that’s unimportant. are you okay?”

“peachy.”

he knew she was lying. he just didn’t know what she wanted to hear.

“okay, pretty girl, dream of me, yeah?”

“mhm. see you later, lock the door if you leave.”

“i will, i’m sorry.”

as she walked away, she could hear his voice fill the living room.

“hey angel, i’ll be there in 20.”

more than friends, less than lovers.

[chlorinecake]

“convenient chances” 🎱

summary: Your obsessive ex-boyfriend Jay Park goes to extreme measures to ensure that you submit to his ruthless control, and with your body weakening with each pitiful day that passes, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to put up a fight…

pairing: Stalker! Yandere! Enhypen x Fem! Reader

contains: Suggestive, Non-con Kissing and Touching, Degrading Nicknames (crybaby, play thing, etc), Mentions of Self-harm and Other Violent Themes, Heavy Angst

word count: 5.3k -> previously . . .

YOUR BODY WAS fully awake, but your mind needed a moment to catch up.

The feeling of moist soil on your scalp somehow helped to comfort your body’s soreness as you laid down in the shallow ditch of dirt which was inevitably dubbed as your bed last night…

You could hardly push past the pain in your tired eyes, having cried yourself to sleep and back awake more times than you could count while meddling about with only one emotion coursing through your starved out veins:

Despair.

Not in the sense that you were ready to forfeit your role in this one against seven battle, but you worried your body could only take so much more of their combined insanity before giving up…

Just to let Jay claim you as his noble prize in this one-sided race for a twisted love—

Pat, pat, pat.

Your ears keened in on the sounds of nature surrounding you, eyes lazily opening up again as sprinkles of dry earth kissed your forehead, followed by more pats from above.

But the pats came with friends, the sounds now becoming more layered, louder as they approached the rim of the steep hole.

It was them.

The six goons, excluding their crookedly righteous leader who to this day leaves you baffled as to why you even dated him in the first place.

If only he wasn’t so good at pretending…

Pretending like everything was normal and that your past relationship with him was somehow reconcilable.

Your vision was still a bit cloudy given the poor lighting provided by the hardly risen sun and surrounding forestry, however you could still make out each boy's face as they stared back down at you. Jake, the nicer one, slowly guided a rope down to meet you.

“Can’t imagine you got much sleep down there, did ya’ cutie?” Heeseung’s voice started, stinging your soul like venom as he cooed at you with pouty lips from above, “don’t worry, I’ll give you a good morning kiss once we get you outta there…”

What a raging creep.

“This isn’t gonna be easy, but the only way to get you back up here is if you climb…”

Wow. He almost sounded like he cared about you when he said that.

Almost...

“C’mon, we threw you in a ditch, not a fucking volcano,” the tallest one grumbled impatiently, annoyed by your seemingly feeble demeanor.

“Niki,” Sunghoon scolded sternly, the younger boy shrugging in defense, “don't encourage her to resist us, alright?”

Jay must've been too busy to come and get you himself today, given all the work obligations and tasks he had lined up for the week.

So unfortunately, as if your luck could get any worse, you'd have to deal with his violent clan of minions until he got back.

Jake gave the rope a little shake to draw your attention back to it, your eyes having wandered off for a second in thought.

These boys were capable of the darkest evil's, but you knew it'd be better to comply than give 'em a hard time right now.

“Atta girl,” Jake smiled, watching as you stood up on wobbly legs before making your way to the dangling rope, “take your time coming up...”

Someway, somehow, you managed to climb up the rope, despite the dizziness clouding your mind on the way there.

Jungwon greeted you with a half-friendly expression, pulling you out of the ditch the rest of the way with a strong hand.

You honestly struggled a bit to stand up properly on your own, given how long your legs had been idle for, so Heeseung took it upon himself to carry you.

All the way to the nearby van, whose black exterior sent chills down your spine, despite how inviting the morning sunrise looked while casting upon it.

“Look at you,” Heeseung cooed, eyes scanning the fresh scar tracing the back of your hand as you clung to his shoulder for support, “so vulnerable and fragile...”

He took your hand and pressed a kiss to the flesh there, but you couldn't be bothered to pull away from him, thinking in your mind that you had to seem submissive.

You had to escape.

And tricking them seemed to be one of the few options you had left, especially with Mandy out of the picture.

Yes, you felt weak, but nowhere near as much as you were gonna pretend to be.

You were always a fighter, and you didn't plan to give up just yet, no matter how many times you'd have to get up just to fall back down again.

Sunoo held the car door open for Heeseung to help you get in, the rest of the boys already loading themselves into the vehicle at either side.

The sound of dirt stalling the trucks tires filled your ears before Sunghoon slammed his foot on the gas, forcing the car out of its mossy patch.

The trail back up was rocky, which made Niki reach an arm over to keep you in place as you kept wobbling in your seat.

You knew it wasn't because he actually cared for your safety, especially not with the bitter look plastered over his features.

“Since when did you get employed as a human seatbelt?” Jungwon asked with furrowed eyes, confused by Niki's behavior.

“Just trying to keep Jay's play thing safe,” he smiled facetiously, just as his eyes turned up to a tear in the roof, or more accurately, an empty slot where a seatbelt once was… “since you overgrown fuck-nuts like horsing around in here...”

BY NOW, THE car drive was nearing its end, human civilization barely coming into view through the dark tinted windows.

Sunghoon's eyes were trained on the road ahead as he started to speak, “So... we don't have many options for breakfast, but given how hungry you are, I'm sure you won't be picky...”

He pulled into the drive-thru of a nearby fast-food restaurant, the scent of deep-fried breakfast foods infiltrating the cold air behind the truck windows.

Meanwhile, your mind was stuck on Niki's mentioning of the broken seatbelt earlier, simply because no seatbelt meant no restraints, and ultimately, nothing was holding you back.

Truly, what you were plotting to do next was quite obviously a very bad idea... but, with the little strength you had left, you decided to push through anyways.

Literally.

Slam.

You pushed passed Niki and slung open the car door, slamming it behind you just as Niki’s hand barely grazed your arm, cursing to himself as you took off into the morning fog.

Thud, thud, thud.

Your sneaker-clad feet hit the pavement with harsh steps as you ran off into the opposite direction of the boys, treading as far as your dry bones could take you.

With your heart pounding like a drum in your chest and your eyes glued straight ahead, you knew looking back would only slow you down.

That’s when you noticed the parking lot was completely empty, which meant that no bystanders were present once Heeseung’s long legs eventually caught up to you, grabbing your shoulder to halt your tracks, right before leaving a slap clean across your face.

You fell to the ground, scuffing your elbow in the collision with a now busted-lip complimenting your dark under eyes.

“Pretty energetic to say you’re running on an empty stomach, aren't you, baby face?” He pressed with aggression, taking your jaw in his fierce grip to make you look up at him, “What? Too scared to talk now that I’m being rough with you?”

All you did was wince at his words, the adrenaline boiling in your chest only increasing with fear as the rest of the goof-troop approached the scene.

“Aww… you scared her into silence,” Sunghoon pouted while kneeling down to meet where you sat, “what’re we gonna tell Jay about her sudden case of muteness, Heeseung?”

“Hmm... I can think of plenty ways to force some pretty sounds out of that mouth of hers,” the eldest grinned, releasing your chin only to grip your hair this time, pulling you back with force.

“Ahckk,” you groaned in pain, gripping his arm in an attempt to keep your sounds in, but he was already snickering at you, noticing the rosy red bruise raising to your skin from how hard he slapped you earlier.

“Oh?” he cooed, tilting his head as he spoke… “I didn’t mean to hurt you, ____,” he whispered sarcastically before his lips met the sore part of your face...

“Let me make it feel better.”

Heeseung's lips moved lower down your neck as his grip on you only tightened, his rough teeth grazing the surface of your skin before pinching down on it, all while the most satisfying smirk stained his features.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, a voice in your head reminded as your brain returned to reality, brushing off the wild scenario you'd just came up with.

“That’ll be it, thank you,” Jungwon said to the lady over the drive-thru speaker as Sunghoon pulled up to the next window.

“What’s on your mind?” Niki asked, noticing the way you became quiet all of a sudden, your previously shaky breaths settling to a near inaudible decibel.

“N-nothing… just a little tired I guess,” you stuttered, not meeting his nightmare-like eyes to which only made him hum in response.

“Welp, I hope you like coffee, because Jay has something special planned for you two later, and you wouldn’t wanna show up all drowsy like this...”

You had known Jay long enough by now to know that something special was code for a disaster in the making—

“____ loves coffee,” Sunoo blurted out in a nonchalant tone, “I used to buy her five cans every weekday from the convenience store to keep her stocked for the whole work week...”

Until I switched to banana milk, you thought to yourself, a tiny smile rising to your features at the wholesome memory.

Sunoo’s gentle voice trailed off as he hung his head low, the boys looking at him in confusion at his sudden comment.

You sulked quietly; Sunoo had became so cold towards you since the day you scolded him after he betrayed your friendship for Jay... so much had happened since then that you almost forgot how close you and Sunoo used to be before all this…

“God, I don’t know why I even said that,” he cursed himself with a sigh, looking out the window to avoid their judgmental looks.

“It’s uh… it’s fine buddy, just… pass me us a twenty please,” Heeseung continued, Sunoo pulling out a $20 bill and passing it to Jake to pay for the food.

“Have a good day,” the cashier said with a forcefully chipper voice, Sunghoon already driving off as her final words were cut off by the sound of the truck engine.

He took another short path that led to a gas station nearby, letting Jungwon, Sunoo, Niki, and himself take you inside the corner-store to eat while the rest stayed back to pump gas and shit-talk.

The shop resembled one you might see in an apocalyptic video game, the food-stained tables and flickering ceiling lights only adding to the unsettling aura.

That's when the wall-mounted TV, just a few inches beside the glass entry doors, broadcasted a live news report featuring a woman by the name of Mandy Reeves.

You felt part of your soul descend at the mere mentioning of her name as the scratchy-voiced newswoman began to report from the speakers...

“62 year old Goldman's 24-Hour Convenience Store worker Mandy Reeves was reportedly found tied up with a rope and non-responsive in the establishment’s storage room around midnight. While Ms. Reeves is in better condition now, authorities have concluded that this attack was from within. Here’s what Mandy had to say concerning the incident.”

“Oh my God,” you said louder than necessary, eyes wanting to brim with tears until you noticed the equally worried looks on the four boy's faces, but of course, the five of you had pretty different reasons for looking that way.

“This is Sydney Baker with ENN News… Ms. Reeves, can you please share an account of what you remember most from your attack last night?” the reporter interrogated with a fat microphone in her hand.

From what you could tell, Mandy still seemed pretty shaken up about what happened, even from the blurry TV screen.

You couldn't help but feel guilty after sending her through all that, knowing she was the type of person to stand up for someone even if it meant she'd end up getting hurt, too.

“I… all I remember was a bunch of boys… T-too many of them to count, but they all looked like trouble from the moment they walked in the store,” Mandy stuttered before the camera, eyes wandering all over the place with her gray mane an utter mess on her head.

“And what did you say about another girl earlier? Did she assist the attackers?” The reporter asked back.

“NO! No, not at all... she was the one in danger! I... I-I can’t remember her name, but she’s a good friend to me… always stopped ‘round the shop at night… treated me like I was her own mother…”

“But the attackers, ma’am. Are you genuinely sure this wasn’t some kind of set up?”

“One of those buck-crazy hooligans were in an abusive relationship with her! His name was… Jay… s-something like that… he must’ve built up some kinda gang to get her back.”

“Ma’am, you said earlier that your memory is a bit foggy… are you certain the information you’re sharing with us is accurate?”

“Yes, this all happened before they jumped me… that girl… she’s been hiding from him for over four months now I believe… my guess is that he finally caught up to her... I went to call the police and—”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Mandy, but we’re running low on time… once again this is Sydney Baker reporting live from Goldman's 24-Hour Convenience Store. Back to you, James...”

The reporters voice faded into the background as Niki and Jungwon made direct eye contact with each other, looking at Sunoo next who sat with a worried expression on his face.

“That old fucking bitch-”

“Niki, chill out, alright?” Jungwon interrupted, standing up from the table to gather your food and trash.

“Hey, I was still eating that,” you complained, taking one last sip of your drink before he snatched that from you too.

“Tough because we’re leaving,” Sunghoon said sternly before aggressively hooking your arms in his, despite how gentle he wanted it to seem to anyone looking.

“She thinks this shit is funny,” Niki scoffed, opening the gas station door for Sunghoon to lead you back to the car, “just look at the way she’s beaming right now…”

“My 'beaming' has nothing to do with you assholes getting busted for not covering your tracks properly, but everything to do with your actual response to the news,” you corrected, feet struggling to keep up with Sunghoon’s fast-paced walking as his hold on your arm fastened, “you all should be scared...”

“Interesting comment coming from you,” Jungwon retorted, right before calling out to his hyung’s ahead of him, “we gotta get her outta here as soon as possible.”

“What happened?” Heeseung asked first, considering how fast you guys came back.

Jake had just finished pumping the gas when you all reached the car, disgruntled looks on the three boy's faces as Sunghoon began to explain what happened.

“We were on TV,” Sunghoon said, opening the back door of the truck and practically shoving you in, “that old chick gave the cops a name, too…”

Heeseung's eyebrows furrowed at his friends words, “I... I don’t understand, what’re you guys saying?”

“We don’t know much yet, but someone found Mandy last night and she spilled as many beans as she possibly could,” Niki spat somewhere in between, all of them getting in their respective seats as Jake caught on to the dilemma a little sooner than Heeseung did, “we’re fucked.”

Slamming his foot on the gas, the vehicle took off out of the parking lot, the entire vibe somehow feeling much darker than before now that they were potentially being man-hunted.

“Whose name did she drop?” Jake asked angrily over the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from the intense grip.

The boys fell quiet, Heeseung being equally confused and curious as they sat with clenched jaws, body’s rocking a bit with the car's bolstering drifts as you decided to speak up on their silent behalves.

“Jay,” you started, voice like a single note of a piano that rung strong in their headspace as chills ran down their tensed backs… “she mentioned Jay...”

ABOUT AN HOUR had passed before the sleek black van pulled up into Jay’s driveway, a feeling of shock and gratefulness washing over you at the fact that the boys didn’t take a pit-stop at the “classroom” to teach you any lessons.

“Get her out,” Jake practically barked, Niki almost instantly grabbing your arm at his hyung’s words.

“Isn’t Jay still at work?” You asked somehow in between all the action, Sunghoon having opened the car door to your right and grabbing your other arm, too.

“Yes,” Sunghoon sighed, not even meeting your face as he spoke, “but he’ll be here shortly—”

“I’ll put in a tip that the crybaby missed him very much,” Niki added, speeding up his footsteps until you all reached the tall, mahogany front door, the simple sight of it bringing back one too many memories you wished you could forget now…

Memories of when you loved Jay sincerely, and he loved you… memories of when he used to never put you in harms way… memories of when you were able to look him in his handsome face without gritting your teeth with rage—

Click.

Jungwon unlocked the door with a spare key that was so conveniently placed beneath the front porch statue of an eagle.

Sunghoon and Niki let your arms free in unison, a tingly sensation running up and down the length of your limbs thanks to the force they initially applied.

The four of you stood there awkwardly for a moment, up until you felt a hand tap your shoulder.

“Make yourself at home, ____,” Heeseung began, startling you from behind as your mind became aware of his daunting frame behind you, “and make it quick before a bug flies in, please…”

“O-oh,” you stammered, taking a few rushed steps until you made it all the way inside, the flashy interior of Jay’s home somehow widening your tired eyes.

The sound of Jake’s boots traveled somewhere behind you, his arms being filled with a black dress, pair of heels, and velvet jewelry bag.

“For you, if it wasn’t obvious,” he said plainly, facial features as blank as a fresh canvas.

“Jay wants you to shower before he comes back… and also,” he paused for a second, handing you the items he held before his hand snagged at the rubber band holding up his man-bun and passing it to you, “try to make yourself look nice, alright?”

. . .

Twist.

The faucet creaked slightly as you hopped into the shower, it’s stream of warm water soothing your grimy skin.

You took a moment to let the water moisten your entire body from head to toe before reaching for the loofa and bottle of soap, sudsing up the product before lathering it in.

The tiny pool of water around your feet was muggy and dark, reminding you of just how dirty you had been the whole day, even though it didn’t really bother you after a while.

Twist.

You turned the faucet off, guiding your freshly shampooed hair into a towel while you dried off your body, stepping out of the tub with dry feet to avoid making a mess of things.

The house had become so quiet that even the water trickling down the drain sounded loud.

Pumping a few squirts of lotion into your palm, you massaged it into your thirsty skin, just as your eyes caught sight of the pink razor sitting idly on the counter.

It’s set of three silvery blades shined eerily beneath the overhead ceiling lights, especially against the foggy bathroom mirror.

That’s crazy, your mind internally scolded itself, even though the razor was already in your hand by now.

It’s not even worth it, you heard another voice say, but this time, in an almost daring tone.

Your eyes narrowed in on the squiggly train of green and blue veins decorating your delicate wrist.

You felt your heart start to throb the longer you stared, not out of nervousness, because your heart beat was relaxed in this moment, but out of pain from the sharp sensation that traveled to your finger tips, a stream of dark, rich red trailing down your forearm and dripping onto your bath towel.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hey, you almost done in there or what?” Heeseung’s voice asked from behind the door, your mind just now realizing that the razor was still inches away from you, resting in its initial spot.

No blood.

No pain.

Just your head playing tricks on you again—

“Uh… y-yeah, just gimme a sec.” You stalled, hand almost instantly grabbing the black dress from its clothes-hanger and sliding it up your hips.

Heeseung still stood behind the door, very aware of the fact that you weren’t even close to being ready… regardless of this, he turned on the heel of his boot and called out, “She’s almost ready, Jay!” indirectly letting you know to hurry the fuck up in there.

“How does she look for me?” You assumed Jay asked from outside, given that Heeseung responded with a cheesy “absolutely beautiful.”

Jay made his way into the room, knocking gently on the bathroom door... not peeking, just listening to your soft yet nervous breathing, “I’ll meet you downstairs, okay love?...”

You didn’t answer, but instead, fastening the zipper on the side of your dress, clipping in the crystal earrings, silver necklace, and two beaded bracelets for either wrist while double checking yourself in the mirror.

That's when you heard Heeseung’s footsteps walk away with Jay’s, just as a new set followed right after.

“It’s me, ____,” Sunoo’s voice began, “can I come in for a sec?”

Once again, you didn't answer, only letting an exasperated huff fall from your lips as you looked into the mirror, the act of trying to style your slippery wet hair with Jake's flimsy hair-tie only adding to your stress…

“I know I'm probably one of the last people you wanna talk to right now, but I can help you,” he continued, part of you wishing he meant 'help you escape'—

Click.

You unlocked the door knob with a creak, the misty bathroom air hitting Sunoo’s dewy skin as he walked in, directing his hand out as a sign for you to sit on the toilet.

“Close your eyes for me,” he said, pulling out a tube of mascara to apply to your lashes.

“Thank you,” you meant to say, but you were interrupted by his voice saying, “I'm sorry” first...

“Sun, can we please not do this right now?” You sighed, an apology from anyone being the last thing on your mind right now.

Sunoo’s chest raised with an anxious exhale before he let the air out through his nose as he whispered the words, “I had to say it ____… It hurts me, y'know?... seeing you like this... seeing what I helped them all do to you...”

An unsettling silence swarmed between you two before the sad-eyed boy reached in his pocket, pulling out a blush compact to apply a bit of hue to the apple of your cheeks with his fingers.

He then pulled a few hairs out from your head, trying to emphasis your natural beauty instead of stressing over a specific style.

“We won't be toying around with this, by the way,” he smiled softly, taking the rubber band from your hand and tossing it into the bin beside you.

You let yourself chuckle a bit at his actions, but it wasn’t the kind of laughter that made you feel good…

It was the kind of laughter that you have with a friend in grade-school while sitting in detention, waiting for your angry parent to come and pick you up for a good scolding—

“So,” he started, placing his hands at your shoulders as you stood up from the toilet, looking at yourself in the mirror, “what do you think?”

Looking back at your reflection, all you could do was smile softly, not for genuine purposes, but for Sunoo’s sake, a familiar smile spreading across his face too at your appearance.

“You're welcome, then,” he meant to say, but you interrupted him first by turning around, wrapping your arms around his waist and whispering a cracky “I forgive you...” against his chest...

BY NOW, SUNOO had left you alone to gather your emotions for a few more minutes before coming down.

He told you a series of simple steps to follow once you'd leave the bathroom:

1. Walk down the staircase.

2. Greet Jay with a smile, either fake or genuine.

3. Don't do anything stupid.

The hardest of these steps? All three if you were being completely honest... but by now, you had already completed 1% of step one, your nervous legs standing still and firm at the very top of the staircase as Jay's voice called out to you.

“My love, what's the delay for?” You heard Jay ask from the bottom, not being able to see you given the way the stairwell curved, “I'm ready to see you...” he went on...

The gall of this man... to demand your presence like he had a right to it or something... this whole thing was just so... dehumanizing.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this Jay,” you blurted out, letting your first mind speak before you could even rationalize a more suitable reply... before you could even take your next step down the staircase...

“I'm giving you an opportunity to cooperate by your own persuasion, ____... please don't abuse it,” he warned coldly, resting his hand on the staff like structure of the staircase as he kept envisioning you coming down the steps, almost as if his thoughts could manifest it happening...

“You're not even listening to me, ____,” you scoffed, thinking back in your head how this clown-show would've been avoided if you actually just picked up that damned razo-

“That's nonsense, and you know it, ____... I understand that you're stressed, but please-”

“No, Jay, because that's the thing,” you interrupted with a raised voice, “you don't understand a damn thing about what I've been going through, all at the hands of you and those strange boys you puppet around...”

“Baby, I get that this is a difficult situation, but I'm trying my very best to make this work,” he pleaded, looking at top the stairs as if you could somehow see his forlorn face.

By now, you had already skipped step 2 and entirely ignored step 3-

“Well, pardon me for adding to the difficulties, but fuck your efforts,” you spat, kicking off the heels you wore and tossing them beside you with a loud clatter, “they've only been out of vanity this whole time anyway...”

Anyway...

The word echoed within your soul, right before it became like wind in your ears...

Your heart skipped a few beats as you suddenly felt like you were falling, both down with gravity and out of the world at the same time, eyes widening with the gasp that escaped your tightening throat.

The feeling of forceful hands left your back, your feet tripping over your steps as you whipped your head to see who pushed you, the whole moment occurring in slow-motion as your eyes met Niki's piercing ones, his large hand waving facetiously at you as you continued to tumble down the staircase.

Your back hit the final step with a loud crack, your consciousness leaving you instantly as your now sleeping face met Jay's, and even though you couldn't see it, his eyes filled with utter terror, boot-clad feet running towards your feeble body.

His words came out like confused soup, but each sentence was something along the lines of 'don’t leave me like this.'

“She brought this upon herself, hyung,” Niki announced shamelessly, coming down the staircase in harsh, slow steps as the shadow of a menacing smirk remained clear on his face, “just let her go...”

Jay looked up at Niki with tears in his eyes. “You idiot!” was all he yelled before scooping you up in his arms, Heeseung running over from the kitchen to see what happened from the noise.

“Oh my God,” Heeseung gasped, running to take you from Jay's hold only for his hand to be swatted away with a nonverbal 'I can handle her,' on his behalf.

“Just open the door... I have to get her outta here,” Jay's voice bit back, trying to stop himself from breaking down at the sudden course of events.

“If she doesn't wake back up soon, promise me that the five of you will make sure that Niki doesn't live to see another day...”

YOUR EYES CRACKED open slowly like rusty door hinges, a throbbing sensation from your head being the first thing you noticed upon waking up.

And the second sensation? Well, it was the tingly feeling running up and down your back, extending all the way into your tied up wrists.

If you didn't remember falling down the stairs before, you definitely remembered it now as you felt a bit of blood drip from the poorly bandaged cut in your brow, your entire being physically cringing at the memory.

Step, step.

Your eyes darted to the source of the sound, only to find Jay waltzing around in an idle circle around the room.

Or more specifically, the classroom...

You're not sure why he decided to bring you here instead of a proper hospital to be checked out, but then again, you didn't really understand anything that Jay did.

Like for instance, why he decided to tie you up in a basement like a criminal within minutes of you literally flying down his staircase-

“Where’s Sunoo?” You began upon making eye contact with Jay, not giving him the chance to start a conversation first.

There was an awkward pause before he finally responded with a blunt, “What’s it matter to you, anyways?… He hated you with every bone in his pathetic body...”

“That's a lie!” You barked back, surprised by your own intensity.

And God, yelling at him only made your head hurt even more.

Jay scanned your bruised face for a moment, communicating to you with his eyes that it’d be best to watch your mouth from here on out considering how it landed you at the bottom of a staircase not too long ago.

His eyes then fell to the sight of your arms that were tied securely behind your back and to the chair post, all by the likes of Heeseung.

You were already treading on thin ice here, so you knew that if you were to say anything at all, it would have to be at the very least somewhat respectful...

Jay smiled softly as your facial features relaxed with the exhausted sigh you let out, the slim sign of compliance compelling him to pace around the room more freely this time.

“To answer your question, love… I suppose some people are just simply,” he delayed in thought, looking up for a second til the right word came to mind… “Replaceable,” he finally finished, voice sounding eerily low as he now made a fierce eye contact with you.

You didn’t understand why he was taunting you all of a sudden… almost as if his previously compassionate demeanor had been corrupted by someone…

“A set of six friends that help you commit crimes… the meager cashier at a local convenience store… there are plenty of kindred spirits for those type of people… for instance, we’re both bound to find another Sunoo… and you, another Mandy—”

“What gives you any right to speak of them in such a way? After all the pain you’ve cost in their lives,” you questioned with a broken voice, hesitant tears welling in your eyes as the pain in your wrist increased with your emotions, the tight restraints only feeling worse any time you moved even in the slightest bit.

Jay caught onto this, too… watching the way your body winced from behind every time you even thought to disrespect him… it brought one of the most sincere smiles to his chilled face that you’ve seen in quite a while.

“Does talking back to me make you feel powerful, love?… c’mon, you can be honest… I won’t laugh…”

You never gritted your teeth so hard in your entire life as you did in this moment, staring back at him with bloodshot eyes as your vision started to blur from the tears.

“No,” you muttered out wobbly, hanging your head low as it became too hard to keep looking at his face, “it doesn’t make me feel anything at all…”

His feet paused in their pacing, right before he turned to meet you where you sat, taking your chin in his hands and forcing you to look up at him, an unreadable but nonetheless threatening look in his eyes as your heart fluttered with nerves...

“I see…,” Jay continued, eyes not meeting yours but still wandering over the expanse of your face, observing your bruised cheek bone, the tiny cut in your lower lip, and the wrinkle between your furrowed brows. “Allow me to help you feel something for once, then…”

“Something painful, I’m sure—”

“I prefer the word pleasant,” he smiled, still holding your chin in place as his free hand reached for the dagger sitting on the side table, its sharp blade still shining before you despite the dimly lit atmosphere.

In this moment, the only pleasant thought in your heart was death, but Jay knew that would be both too good and bad of an ending for you.

Kneeling over you, he lined the blade up with the thick rope entrapping your weakened wrists, slicing back and forth in skilled motions until he felt your hands release.

A relaxed sigh left your mouth at the feeling, the simple sense of relief still mixing with anguish as Jay locked his eyes back on yours.

He knelt down now, letting your chin go as he cut the restraints from around your ankles, placing the blade in your lap before standing up to take a few steps away from you.

“Jay, why are you letting me free—”

“Because I love you, ____,” he stated firmly, removing his jacket from his shoulders as he watched you from where he stood, “that’s always been my reason behind everything since the day I first met you… since I realized that a soul like yours isn’t replaceable…”

“I… I don’t understand what you're trying to say—”

“Stand up,” he continued, voice sounding so deep that you felt it in your feet, “and pick up the knife…”

He watched your trembling hand reach for the blade as if in slow motion, your knees flexing to stand up, weakness plaguing your every step as you walked towards him, his usually sharp eyes softening to a state of meekness…

Or perhaps, it was another state in reflection of the twisted love Jay had chased for months on end… right before he decided within himself that he was willing to finally give it up if that's what it'd take to keep you safe... to see you happy...

“All you’ve ever wanted was to make your own choices… to have that freedom back that I took away from you... this is the only time I’m willing to give you a chance at liberty—”

“I’m not going to kill you, Jay,” your voice came out quietly with a crack, silently hiccuping now as the tears continued to fall, your anxious body somehow craving none other than his strong arms to catch you in case you fell… or even just for the fuck of it...

“Then don’t,” he whispered, maintaining a gentle smile as you practically fell apart from the inside out right before his eyes, “you can do whatever it is that you wish to now... Kill the thought of me along with this version of yourself, and run away for good… I won’t chase you anymore…”

This whole thing... it was becoming far more confusing than you could bear… all this time, all you ever wanted was to be your own person again... who could make decisions without having to look over their shoulder in fear anymore...

All you ever wanted was to live a happy life without Jay and his games, but right now, you couldn’t really remember or imagine what a life like that would look like anyways...

Even if you did run away, you’d still have all the memories from these horrors attached to you… all of the fears cementing every corner of your being like a dungeon... you’d still be reminded by all the bruises and pain...

Your life had come to a point where there was no more pleasure to seek from here, as Jay had filled every possible void and meaning in your life with fragments of his insanity for you...

Just as he operated and just as you concluded to yourself a long time ago, broken toys were Jay’s favorite objective, and if you weren’t already broken upon being found, you were bound to be by the time he finished playing with you.

Simply put, this traumatizing love game was nearing its demise, and you had come too far, become too weak to still put up a fight...

You fell into Jay's chest, his protective arms holding you close to him as your cold tears met his warm skin.

You desperately clung to his shoulders, hoping to gain any sense of comfort from the contact… any sense of that pleasantness he offered to you.

The dagger fell to the ground with a shattering clink, all of your nerves melting away as Jay continued to hold you, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as you continued to sniffle.

He always knew you’d come around, because that's how things went for him as a Park... though, he also knew it’d still hurt you in the beginning until you'd become adjusted.

You exhaled in his embrace, eyes shut tight even though the tears continued to spill.

“I don’t want to run anymore either, Jay,” you choked out, still clinging to him as he hummed at your words.

“I know, ____…” he said, almost in an apologetic manner, “but now…” he stalled in the silence, peeking down at the knife on the floor, “you’ll have to learn to love me again… but in the meantime, things will be different between us... better... and I can promise you that, love...”

All you did was nod against his chest, finally letting your eyes open up as you spoke an almost inaudible, “I hope I’ve made the right decision…”

He broke from the hug, still connecting your bodies by the waist as he took your hand in his hand to place a kiss against the tender marks on your wrist, a single thought resting in the back of your troubled mind...

You had just given up on your only chance of survival, and was that a foolish or wise decision? You’re not so sure as of now… but either way, one thing remained certain… a thing that you dreaded to acknowledge even now as Jay held you in his arms…

You could only hope that this certainty wouldn’t haunt you til the end of time, and that somewhere within the depths of your broken heart, you’d grow more accepting of the simple fact that Jay, in all of his efforts, had finally won, leaving the two of you now as a united pair to pick up and rebuild the pieces together…

☆ This concludes the CONVENIENT CHANCES series’ season finale everyone! I’d like to give special thanks to @yourmomscuntis2tighy for originally requesting this piece, and to all of the amazing people who supported this series to the very end 🤍🤍🤍

☆ NOTE: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

☆ TAGS: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @ashgonedash @addictedtohobi @wonbinisbabygurl @cherlv @03sunoos @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled @haechansheart @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @naddii @valhrts @tinyenha @lisaaannna @valentineluvr @heecries @espyluvsyou @tokusatsutoad @confuse20x @teddursa @riviyw @tamii4 @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07 @tubatusoobs @03sunoos @oshsha @elleflying07 @jjungwonss @soobins--dimple @heeseung-min @heerinnie @wonbyf @smouches @ilovesunoosm @whattheflipbroski @starrylovesu @jungwonloveer @idkdykilr @jays-property @daintysan @oddracha @miinie6300 @lilyuwon @meowmeowjang @sun00027 @kkamismom12

[gibberishfangirl]

WIND BREAKER | zoo date

Synopsis ✰ head cannons about how a zoo date would go between you and the boys

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! just cute content of the boys being happy boyfriends

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 the zoo date was your idea but you were pleasantly surprised to see Sakura agree to it

𝜗𝜚 he’s secretly really excited about it, it’s his first time going but doesn’t tell you

𝜗𝜚 he LOVES it, is incredibly fascinated in the cutest way

𝜗𝜚 the day you two went happened to be incredible hot but it’s okay, neither of you complained

𝜗𝜚 one of the first exhibits you went to go see were the pandas

𝜗𝜚 “AWH! look Sakura! it’s us!” you giggled pointing to the two cuddling panda bears, he blushes at the comparison

𝜗𝜚 “hey, now that i think about it, you kinda do remind me of panda bears.” you murmured thinking aloud to yourself. “s-shut up! no i don’t!” he stammers with a furious blush as you giggle at him

𝜗𝜚 his second favorite animal to see were actually the giraffes he thought they were so cool for some reason, he stood there mesmerized for a moment

𝜗𝜚 his first favorite animal to see were the orangutans and apes, he seemed like a little kid in awe with his face up against the glass trying to get a better look

𝜗𝜚 you figured out after some time that this had to be his first time there

𝜗𝜚 in order to make the day extra special you went out of his way purchase him a panda plushie as a surprise and told him “i had to buy a plush animal that was as cute as you!”

𝜗𝜚 he grumbles a bit at the gift but accepts it and offers a small “thank you” with a light blush -> panda officially becomes his cuddle buddy after this day

𝜗𝜚 at the end of the day you two got sun burnt since both of you forgot to apply sunscreen

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 boy scout mode activated!

𝜗𝜚 he literally had every necessary item packed for the two of you

𝜗𝜚 once he found out you forgot to apply sunscreen before leaving the house he has you sit on a rock and applied the sunscreen on your legs and arms for you

𝜗𝜚 you struggled to catch up to him the whole day since his legs were so long, not to mention the steps he kept taking were massive

𝜗𝜚 you were exhausted the entire day by trying to keep up with him

𝜗𝜚 you took multiple pit stops in shady areas Ume found for you

𝜗𝜚 he was incredibly energetic the entire day as his pace never gave up, however, he did slow down after realizing you were struggling to keep up

𝜗𝜚 he offers you a piggy back ride which you happily accept

𝜗𝜚 thanks to his ability to carry you throughout most of the day you managed to get through the whole park

𝜗𝜚 you both saw every animal they had

𝜗𝜚 once he notices your face getting a little red, he takes off his hat and places it on yours

𝜗𝜚 he buys you water throughout the day to ensure you aren’t dehydrated

𝜗𝜚 you guys loved to do some window shopping at the end of the day

𝜗𝜚 he purchased a key chain and small animal plush for you

𝜗𝜚 funny enough you purchased the same key chain for him so the two of you had matching ones

𝜗𝜚 “this was fun, what should we do next time?” he asks at the end of the day before softly kissing your cheek

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 a complete gentleman the entire day

𝜗𝜚 he makes sure you have sunscreen applied before you two start walking in the hot sun

𝜗𝜚 he makes sure to walk at your pace and not leave you behind

𝜗𝜚 he ensures your hydrated the entire day by always providing cold water and drinks for you

𝜗𝜚 he buys you a plush of your favorite animal

𝜗𝜚 you two gushed over the cuteness of the koalas that happened to be sleeping

𝜗𝜚 you took so many photos with him

𝜗𝜚 you guys spent about half an hour in the photo booth taking photos

𝜗𝜚 he blushes when you refer to your plush as “our baby”

𝜗𝜚 “ah look so cute our baby looks!” you gushed as you put a hair clip on the stuffed animal

𝜗𝜚 “you know you can never leave me now right? i don’t want to be a single mother and you can’t become a dead beat father.” you said out of no where making him laugh “what a silly thought, i would never leave you.”

𝜗𝜚 you two actually ate at one of the restaurants to try it out

𝜗𝜚 it was both of your first times going to the zoo

𝜗𝜚 unfortunately you two didn’t see all the animals or get to cover a lot of the park

𝜗𝜚 “oh no suo, we didn’t see all the animals.” you pouted at him a little sad in all honesty

𝜗𝜚 he offers a hug and simply replies with “it’s okay, we’ll get to see them next time.” your heart fluttered at those last two words

𝜗𝜚 ofc he was already planning another date in his head from the first moment this one started

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 you guys were getting lost all day

𝜗𝜚 both of you kept getting confused by the map

𝜗𝜚 if you said go right he’ll go left, if he says go left you go right

𝜗𝜚 at least the two of you were getting lost together

𝜗𝜚 you both have fun regardless

𝜗𝜚 despite getting lost you guys would stumble across some of the animal exhibits

𝜗𝜚 one of the biggest highlights of the day was finding the petting zoo

𝜗𝜚 you both gushed over the cute animals

𝜗𝜚 “look we can feed them!!” you yelled in excitement after noticing there was food you can purchase for the animals

𝜗𝜚 Nirei couldn’t help but smile and take photos of your cute self feeding the animals

𝜗𝜚 until one of the animals starting nibbling on your sweater

𝜗𝜚 your sweater had a chunk get bitten off, “no this was my favorite sweater!” you whined

𝜗𝜚 not to mention the day you two went on happened to be chilly so you were cold without it

𝜗𝜚 after seeing you shivering Nirei took off his jacket and put it on you

𝜗𝜚 “can’t have my pretty girl getting a cold”

𝜗𝜚 you held hands all day and had so much fun watching all the animals

𝜗𝜚 whenever Nirei got cold you helped him out by cuddling him and giving him warm hugs

𝜗𝜚 you two happened to make your way back to the entrance around closing time

𝜗𝜚 you both were in shock when you realized you managed to get see everything in the entire park

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 fortunately enough, you both were slow paced and kept up with each other

𝜗𝜚 you spent the whole day at the zoo being in no rush

𝜗𝜚 you guys took your time to explore

𝜗𝜚 despite it being so hot Togame kept holding your hand all day

𝜗𝜚 he would pout whenever you stopped holding his hand to wipe off your sweaty palm

𝜗𝜚 puts you on his shoulder so you can get a closer look at the animals

𝜗𝜚 he can’t help but smile whenever you’re in awe, “how cute” he would think

𝜗𝜚 he spent the whole day looking at you more than the animals his heart fluttering each time you smiled brightly

𝜗𝜚 “awh isn’t this so cute?!” you gushed talking about the sleeping koalas that happened to be cuddling. “yeah, very cute.” he smiled not even taking his eyes off of you

𝜗𝜚 to Togame there was no better view than you

𝜗𝜚 Togame had ice creams on hand throughout the whole day for the two of you to cool off

𝜗𝜚 he hadn’t realized how much concern he held for you until he saw you getting too close to some of the cages

𝜗𝜚 “wait! be careful, not too close.” he scolded out of pure concern, pulling you back into his chest by your waist

𝜗𝜚 “relax, i’ll be okay.” you pouted each time he pulled you back. “i just want to make sure.” he would say with a small frown

𝜗𝜚 Togame was on edge whenever it regarded your safety

𝜗𝜚 goodluck trying to convince him to let you feed the animals at the petting zoo

𝜗𝜚 would guard the bathroom doors whenever you were in there

𝜗𝜚 incredibly paranoid whenever you went too far

𝜗𝜚 “don’t go too far, what if i lose you?”

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 the zoo date was actually a surprise date that Choji planned himself

𝜗𝜚 he had the entire day planned out

𝜗𝜚 he knew exactly how the two of you would spend the entire day

𝜗𝜚 he also planned out the date to be on a day with the perfect weather

𝜗𝜚 he wanted everything to be perfect for you

𝜗𝜚 he was a ray of sunshine all day smiling and laughing at your cuteness and whenever you pointed something out about the animals

𝜗𝜚 you had so much fun! you both walked hand in hand all day swaying your hands back and forth with huge smiles

𝜗𝜚 he ensures that your hydrated by offering water to you all day, “you sure you’re fine? drink a little more water just in case.”

𝜗𝜚 he would steal glances at you being happy rather than looking at the animals

𝜗𝜚 whenever you were stuck in a trance of awe he would come hug you from behind and plant soft kisses on your shoulder

𝜗𝜚 the soft touch of his lips against your bare shoulder always made you blush madly

𝜗𝜚 “ah Choji this was so much fun! I loved it.” you squealed as you embraced him in a huge hug

𝜗𝜚 he would respond to your hug by picking you up and spinning you around causing the two of you to giggle

𝜗𝜚 “thank you for the perfect date Choji, it was perfect.” you said softly at the end of the date kissing his cheek

𝜗𝜚 he would blush at your praise and cup your cheeks before placing a soft kiss on your lips, “anything for you.”

[rafesapologist]

the boy is mine ─ rafe cameron; chapter one

summary: you were an erudite kook with her life ahead of her, very highly sought after by almost every man from figure 8 all the way to the cut. but you only wanted rafe cameron, and just in the typical nature of getting everything you wanted, you were going to have him.

warnings: none in this chapter

author's note: as always if you'd like to be on the taglist for this series at anytime, please let me know! also, there will be some made up characters in this story for plot purposes.

"There's no way I would go to Midsummers with that freak," your derisive laughter erupted through the library before you halted to take a sip of your tepid iced coffee as its coldness faded, "I'd show up alone before I embarrassed myself like that."

"C'mon, he isn't that bad, y/n. I think he's actually pretty cute if you ask me," your friend, Sadie, nudged you teasingly, wiggling her eyebrows comically.

"You're forgetting the part where he's a Pogue, Sadie. I do have some self respect, you know."

Sadie rolled her eyes, her smile still teasing but with a hint of exasperation. "Sometimes you care too much about what other people think, you know that?"

You sighed, swirling the last bits of melted ice in your cup. "It's not just about what people think. It's about standards, Sadie. I've worked too hard to get where I am to throw it all away over some fling with a guy from the Cut."

Sadie leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "Maybe it's not about throwing anything away. Maybe it's about seeing people for who they are, not where they come from."

You opened your mouth to retort, but the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period. The library's chatter died down as students gathered their things, heading off to their next classes. You and Sadie stood up, collecting your bags and discarded coffee cups. As you walked out into the bustling hallway, you couldn't shake the thought of him—the Pogue in question. John B Routledge. There was something about him that got under your skin, and not just in an annoying way. He was different, and that intrigued you, even if you'd never admit it out loud.

"Are you going to the bonfire tonight?" Sadie asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You shrugged. "Maybe. Depends if I finish my essay for English. You?"

"Of course I am, you should come! Live a little, y/n," Sadie insisted, her enthusiasm infectious.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "We'll see," you said noncommittally, but you both knew that Sadie had a way of persuading you into things you normally wouldn't consider.

As you parted ways, heading to your respective classes, you couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, half-expecting to see him there, with that easy grin and messy hair. You shook your head, pushing the thought away.

After school, you found yourself back in the quiet sanctuary of your room, trying to focus on your English essay. The sun was setting outside, casting a warm golden glow through your window. You sighed, tapping your pen against your notebook. The words on the page blurred as your mind wandered back to the day's conversation.

"Live a little."

Sadie's words echoed in your mind, but you couldn't shake the nagging doubt. You had always prided yourself on maintaining high standards—standards that didn't include dating someone like John B. He was charming, sure, but he was also a Pogue, and the class divide in your town wasn't something you took lightly. It wasn't just about status; it was about everything you had worked for, everything you stood for.

You leaned back in your chair, staring at the ceiling. Your parents had always taught you the importance of striving for more, of associating with people who could elevate your standing. Dating a Pogue, especially one as infamous as John B, seemed like a step backward.

But then there was the memory of his smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, and the infectious laughter that seemed to make the world a little brighter. There was an undeniable attraction, a pull that you couldn't quite explain. You shook your head, reminding yourself why it was important to stick to your standards.

"I do have some self-respect, you know."

You muttered the words to yourself, trying to reaffirm your decision. But as the evening wore on, you couldn't help but feel a little trapped by your own expectations.

Just as you were about to dive back into your essay, your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. It was a message from Sadie: "Bonfire starts at 8! You better be there!"

You stared at the text for a moment, biting your lip. Maybe, just maybe, Sadie was right. Maybe it was time to let go of some of those rigid standards and see where the night took you. You asked yourself, what was the harm in one night of fun?

With a sigh, you closed your laptop and headed to your closet, rifling through your clothes for something suitable to wear. As you pulled out a casual baby blue sundress, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. "Live a little," you muttered to your reflection, echoing Sadie's words.

By the time you arrived at the bonfire, the beach was already alive with music, laughter, and the warm glow of the flames. The salty breeze played with your hair as you made your way across the sand, the sounds of waves crashing mingling with the chatter of your peers. You spotted Sadie almost immediately, her bright smile and waving hand a beacon in the crowd.

"Y/n! You made it!" she cheered, pulling you into a hug that smelled of sunscreen and coconut.

"Yeah, yeah," you laughed. "I'm here. Now what?"

"Now we have fun," Sadie declared, handing you a drink that sparkled under the string lights hung haphazardly between the palm trees. She led you toward the fire where the heat radiated warmly against the cool night air.

You found yourself standing at the fire, gazing at its burning flames as you felt the stares of everyone around you, right on you. The heat from the fire radiated against your skin, a stark contrast to the cool night air. You took sips of your drink hazardously, knowing that at the end of the day, you still had to keep yourself composed in front of everyone.

The laughter and chatter around you seemed distant, almost like a background hum to your own thoughts. You could feel the weight of expectations pressing down on you, a constant reminder of the standards you had set for yourself. You had always been the one who held it all together, the one who never faltered.

As you took another sip, the drink's coldness a fleeting relief, you glanced around the bonfire. Your peers were engrossed in their conversations, but every so often, you caught a pair of eyes flicking in your direction, a whisper exchanged. It was as if they were all waiting to see what you would do next, how you would handle stepping out of your carefully curated box.

Suddenly, snapping you out of your gaze was the sound of a familiar voice approaching with a kind "hello." You snapped your head in the direction of the voice, before realizing it was none other than Sarah Cameron. You met her early in the school year when she joined Honors Society with you and Sadie. The three of you clicked pretty quickly, but you never saw her much outside of school.

Sarah grinned, her eyes sparkling in the firelight. "I could say the same about you. I didn't think I'd ever see the y/n at a party like this."

You laughed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. "Yeah, it's not exactly my usual scene."

Sarah's smile widened. "Well, I think it's great. Sometimes it's good to shake things up a bit. How are you liking it so far?"

You glanced around, feeling the cool breeze and the warm sand under your feet. The sound of distant laughter and music playing flooded your ears, giving you a rush of adrenaline as the alcohol you had been drinking took its effect. "It's surprisingly kind of fun," you admitted, "I don't mind it so far."

As Sarah began to respond to you, she was suddenly cut off as she was spun into the air by a figure behind her. Your eyes widened as you watched the boy kiss her before gently setting her back down onto the sand.

A look of amusement draped across your face as you smirked at her, your eyes flickering between the two of them. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend, Sarah!" Sadie joked, teasing her lightheartedly. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Sadie."

Topper grinned, extending a hand to Sadie. "Nice to meet you too, Sadie."

"I'm y/n," you spoke up after Sadie finished. Topper's eyes snapped over to you as he greeted you back with a genuine smile.

"It's nice to meet you guys. I never get to meet many of Sarah's friends; sometimes I wonder if they think I'm not real or something." He chuckled, taking a swig of his Michelob Ultra.

"Well, now we know you're not just a myth," you said with a grin. "It's nice to finally meet you, Topper."

Sarah giggled in response to your joke, which also earned a head shake from Topper. "I like to leave people guessing," Sarah shrugged, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

Topper laughed, wrapping an arm around Sarah's shoulders and pulling her close. "Keeps things interesting, right?"

You smiled at their playful banter, feeling the warmth of their affection for each other. "Definitely keeps things interesting."

Sadie leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "So, how did you two meet?"

"She's actually my best friend's sister, so we sort of just met because of him," Topper admitted with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I didn't know you had a brother, Sarah?" you inquired, your curiosity piqued as you took another sip of your drink, the cold liquid sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Sarah sighed, her gaze flickering over to Topper with a mixture of annoyance and affection. "Unfortunately, I do. He's my older brother, Rafe."

You tilted your head, observing Sarah's words carefully. There was a hint of something in her tone—disdain, maybe even a touch of resentment—but you didn't want to probe further. Whatever the dynamic between Sarah and Rafe, it seemed like a topic best left untouched for now. You nodded in response, deciding to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

"Is he hot?" Sadie spoke up, her curiosity piqued as she glanced between you and Sarah.

Sarah's eyes widened, caught off guard by the sudden question. She shot Sadie a look of mock indignation before bursting into laughter. "Seriously, Sadie? That's your first question?"

Sadie shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Hey, I'm just trying to get the full picture here."

Sarah rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness in her expression that belied her exasperation. "He's very cocky if that answers your question," she said, her tone tinged with amusement.

Sadie grinned, clearly enjoying the playful banter. "Well, I can work with cocky. Confidence is sexy, after all."

You laughed, shaking your head at Sadie's unabashed flirtation. "You're incorrigible, Sadie."

She shrugged, flashing you a playful wink. "Just keeping things interesting."

"Wait," Sadie paused, her hand reaching out to gently halt you and Sarah, her eyes alight with curiosity. You and Sarah turned to face her, the flames of the bonfire casting dancing shadows on the sand around you.

"Does that mean he's here, too? You know, since his best friend is here and all," Sadie asked, her gaze flickering towards Topper, who was lounging nearby, a relaxed grin playing on his lips as he watched the conversation unfold.

"Yeah, he's here, somewhere," Topper replied with a casual shrug, taking another sip of his drink, the condensation leaving tiny droplets on the bottle's surface.

The mention of Rafe's presence sent a ripple of tension through the group, a silent acknowledgment of the complicated dynamics at play. You exchanged a meaningful glance with Sarah, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flickering in your eyes, the crackling of the fire providing a soothing backdrop to the unfolding drama.

"There's no way you're trying to make a move on my brother right now," Sarah joked, a playful scoff escaping her lips as she glanced at Sadie, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Sadie shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she took a gulp of her drink, the ice clinking softly against the glass. "Well, you've intrigued me, so now I wanna see what he looks like."

"I mean, I can go find him if you want," Topper suggested, joining in on the banter with a playful grin.

"Top, no I—" Sarah began, but Sadie cut her off, her excitement palpable as she interjected, "Please!"

Topper chuckled at Sadie's enthusiasm, pushing himself up from his lounging position with a dramatic sigh. "Alright, alright. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

As Topper wandered off into the crowd in search of Rafe, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building in the air. What would Rafe be like in person, away from how Sarah spoke of him? It was a question that lingered on the edge of your mind, waiting to be answered.

As you waited for Topper to return, the crackling of the bonfire seemed to grow louder, the flames casting flickering shadows on the sand. The night was alive with possibility, and you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises it had in store.

"I can't believe this is happening," Sarah groaned, her voice tinged with resignation as she rubbed her temples, a sense of dread creeping over her at the situation that was waiting to unfold.

"Oh, come on, Sarah, we were gonna meet him sooner or later!" Sadie nudged at her, a playful glint in her eyes as she teased her friend.

"I was hoping to keep him as far away from my friends as possible, actually," Sarah admitted with a rueful smile, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she resigned herself to the inevitable encounter.

Surprisingly, as the anticipation grew, you couldn't help but feel nervous yourself. Excitement fluttered in your stomach like a flurry of butterflies as you waited to see the mystery that was Rafe Cameron, Sarah's brother. You wondered if he was the typical older brother type—overly cocky and thinking he was better than his siblings, maybe even a little overbearing. You weren't entirely sure what to expect or even what he might look like, and all you could do was wait.

The crackling of the bonfire seemed to grow louder, the flames casting dancing shadows on the sand as the night stretched on. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the anticipation building with every heartbeat.

Finally, you spotted Topper making his way back through the crowd, a familiar figure trailing behind him. Your heart skipped a beat as Rafe came into view, his confident stride and piercing blue eyes immediately capturing your attention. He was taller than you had imagined, his presence commanding and magnetic as he approached.

Before you could dwell on it any longer, Rafe was standing before you, a cocky grin playing on his lips as he looked you over. "I heard there was a party going on over here," he said, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine.

You felt a rush of adrenaline as Rafe's gaze locked onto yours, his presence filling the space between you with an undeniable intensity. Despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, you couldn't help but be captivated by his confidence and charm.

"There's definitely a party," Sadie chimed in, a mischievous smirk plastered on her face as she stepped forward, extending her hand towards Rafe. "I'm Sadie, by the way."

Rafe's gaze shifted to Sadie, his cocky grin widening as he took her hand, giving it a firm shake. "Rafe," he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with charm. "Nice to meet you, Sadie."

You could tell Sadie was entirely encapsulated by him as she stared up at Rafe like he was a Renaissance painting of some sort. Her eyes sparkled with admiration, and you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself at her unabashed gawking, which you assumed didn't go unnoticed by Rafe.

As you stood in the circle with the group, quietly observing the interaction, you took a small sip of your drink, trying to mask your amusement. Much to your dismay, Rafe's eyes ventured away from Sadie and landed on you, making you the center of attention in the moment.

"And you are?" Rafe's voice was smooth and confident as he directed his attention towards you, his piercing gaze locking onto yours.

You silently gulped at his question, feeling a rush of nerves coursing through you as you took in a deep breath before responding, "I'm y/n. One of Sarah's friends."

As you spoke, you tried to maintain a calm and composed demeanor, but you couldn't shake the feeling of being under Rafe's intense scrutiny. It was as if he could see right through you, peeling back the layers to uncover the truth beneath. Despite your best efforts to remain unaffected, you couldn't deny the magnetic pull of his presence, drawing you in with every passing moment.

He nodded, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he subtly looked you up and down, a gesture that didn't escape your notice. Heat rushed to your cheeks, leaving you feeling flustered, though you couldn't tell if it was the liquor or the way Rafe was eyeing you that caused it.

"I haven't met any of Sarah's friends, seeing how she's always stuck up Topper's ass," he joked dryly before taking a swig of his beer, his smirk lingering on his lips.

Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes at him, clearly not amused by his comment. "I don't introduce you to them because you'd probably try to sleep with them," she retorted, her tone laced with sarcasm and exasperation.

You couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the siblings' bickering, feeling a mix of amusement and discomfort as you found yourself caught in the middle of their dynamic. The tension between them was palpable, but the only thing you felt you could do to ease your own nerves was to continue taking sips of your drink and observe the conversation unfolding.

Luckily for you, Sadie spoke up again, her voice breaking through the awkward tension like a ray of sunshine. "How old are you, Rafe?" she asked, her curiosity evident in her tone.

"I'm 19," Rafe replied, turning his attention back to Sadie with a casual shrug.

"So you're in college?" Sadie pressed on, her curiosity piqued.

Rafe shrugged nonchalantly, a hint of indifference in his demeanor. "Eh, not yet. Didn't feel like going from 12 years of school straight to more school," he explained, his tone casual as he took another sip of his beer.

"Yeah, I get it, I wouldn't want to either," Sadie replied, her tone casual as she shrugged, but you couldn't help but give her a puzzled look. Sadie was an honors student, just like you. Her entire life seemed dedicated to keeping good grades and maintaining perfect attendance at school, and all she ever talked about was wanting to get into Yale. You could see right through her act, realizing she was only dumbing herself down to appear more interesting to Rafe, which made you cringe.

"Oh, so you're taking a gap year?" Rafe asked, his tone curious as he looked at Sadie.

You chuckled in response, shaking your head as you looked down at your drink, feeling a mix of amusement and discomfort at the situation. "Yeah, I'm sure Yale will accept that," you mumbled under your breath, unable to hide your skepticism.

Rafe's eyes shot over at you, confusion evident on his face at your remark. "Well… I don't know what I'm doing yet, okay?" Sadie replied defensively, shooting you a glare with wide eyes, silently pleading with you not to embarrass her in front of Rafe.

"I take it that you're one of those honors students," Rafe implied, his gaze shifting between you and Sadie as he sipped his beer, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Sadie laughed nervously, swaying slightly as she tried to keep her composure. "Yeah, but it's not a big deal. It's not like I make it my whole personality," she replied, her words slightly slurred from the alcohol.

"Sadie, all you talk about is wanting to get into Yale," you interjected, unable to hold back your frustration any longer, feeling annoyed at her facade and wanting nothing more than to call her bluff.

Sadie's eyes widened in alarm as she shot you a pleading look, silently urging you to drop the subject. But it was too late—the truth was out in the open, hanging in the air like a heavy cloud.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between you and Sadie with renewed interest. "Yale, huh? That's ambitious," he remarked, his tone neutral as he took another sip of his beer.

Sadie laughed nervously again, her movements slightly jerky as she rubbed her arms uncomfortably, nodding at Rafe. "Yeah, it's just something my parents have always wanted for me, I guess," she admitted, her gaze falling to the floor as she shifted uneasily under Rafe's neutral demeanor.

Rafe's gaze lingered on Sadie for a moment before turning to you, his expression unreadable. "What about you? What do you plan on doing?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes searching. You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden question. Glancing around to make sure he was actually speaking to you, you felt a wave of shock wash over you.

"Uh, well..." you stammered, feeling the weight of Rafe's gaze bearing down on you. "I'm going to Princeton in the fall." As the words left your lips, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at the realization that you had finally vocalized your plans for the future. It was a decision that had taken months of careful consideration and countless hours of deliberation, but now that it was out in the open, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you.

Rafe's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a flicker of intrigue dancing in his eyes as he regarded you with renewed interest. "Princeton, huh?" he remarked, his tone neutral but his expression curious.

You nodded, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you met Rafe's gaze head-on. "Yeah, it's been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember," you admitted, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of finally pursuing your goals.

Rafe nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the group. "Well, congratulations," he said, his tone genuine as he raised his beer in a silent toast. "Here's to chasing your dreams."

You watched intently as Rafe raised his beer to toast you, a hint of curiosity flickering in your eyes as you observed his casual demeanor. There was something intriguing about him, a magnetic charm that drew you in despite your reservations. You couldn't help but wonder if he was putting on a show or if he was always like that—confident, carefree, and unapologetically himself.

As Rafe tilted his head back to chug the remnants of his beer, you found yourself studying him intently, trying to decipher the enigma that was Rafe Cameron. His easygoing mannerisms and effortless charm seemed to mask a complexity that you couldn't quite put your finger on, leaving you feeling both intrigued and apprehensive in equal measure.

Once he was done chugging his beer, Rafe nonchalantly tossed the empty bottle across the sand into a nearby trash can before sparking up a conversation with Topper. You couldn't help but admire his ease and confidence, wondering if you would ever be able to exude that same level of self-assurance.

Beside you, you could feel Sadie's embarrassment radiating off her in waves, and you couldn't help but feel partially guilty and at fault for it. But deep down, you knew that you couldn't stand when people dumbed themselves down for attention, even if it meant putting your friendship on the line. Sure, Sadie was your best friend, but that gave you all the more reason to keep her in check and hold her accountable for her actions.

As you stood there with your drink in hand, you found yourself once again trying to figure Rafe out. His presence seemed to fill the space around him, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You couldn't help but admire the way the firelight danced across his tanned skin, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the intensity of his sparkling blue eyes. It was as if he had a magnetic pull, leaving you feeling captivated and entranced in his presence.

The sound of his low-pitched voice sent shivers down your spine, each word resonating deep within you as though you could listen to him talk for hours on end. There was an air of mystery surrounding him, a sense of danger that only served to heighten your fascination with him. He was somewhat intimidating, but that only made him all the more attractive to you.

Despite the unease you felt at being drawn to someone like Rafe, you couldn't deny the butterflies that fluttered in the pit of your stomach whenever he was near. There was something about him that ignited a fire within you, a desire to know more, to experience more of him in any way you could.

Just as you began to mull over your thoughts, an idea sparked in your mind like a sudden burst of fireworks, causing you to perk up with newfound enthusiasm. "Hey, Sarah, why don't we make plans soon? We never get to see each other outside of school," you suggested, a glimmer of excitement twinkling in your eyes.

Sarah's face lit up at your proposal, her expression mirroring your own excitement. "Yeah, sure! That sounds like a great idea," she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "Why don't you come over tomorrow, and we can go swim at my place?"

Your heart raced with anticipation as you considered her offer. It was the perfect opportunity to spend quality time together and perhaps even devise a plan to encounter Rafe again. "That sounds amazing!" you replied eagerly, a devious smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Sarah beamed in response, her excitement palpable as she nodded enthusiastically. "Great! How about around 5? That should give us plenty of time to have some fun," she suggested, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You nodded eagerly, unable to contain your excitement at the prospect of what tomorrow might bring. "Sounds perfect. I'll be there," you exclaimed, already counting down the minutes until your rendezvous with Sarah.

As the conversation around you continued its lively cadence, you found your gaze drawn back to Rafe like a moth to a flame, his presence casting a magnetic allure that was impossible to ignore. Amidst the laughter and chatter, your mind wandered to the possibilities that lay ahead now that you were growing closer to Sarah. Each glance in Rafe's direction ignited a spark of anticipation within you, like the gentle flutter of a butterfly's wings in the pit of your stomach.

Lost in reverie, you allowed yourself to drift into a realm of daydreams, where the boundaries of reality blurred and the realm of possibility expanded infinitely. In this ethereal landscape, you envisioned a tapestry of adventures unfolding before you, each more enchanting than the last. The mere thought of what could transpire filled you with a sense of exhilaration, like the rush of wind through autumn leaves or the soft whisper of waves lapping against the shore.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

taglist: @yawnzshit

[gothicflowers]

Domestic Price headcanons!! ON MY HANDS AND KNEES!!!

Domestic!Price x F!reader

WARNING MDNI (+18 ONLY)

Warnings : tooth rotting fluff, some sexual references.

Word Count: ? So many

Sorry this took me forever to write, the past month has been insane. But things are finally getting better and I’m feeling creative.

Domestic!Price isn’t someone that many are familiar with. Especially those he works with. When price joined the military he was a teen who was in the punk scene and he couldn’t hold a job for more than a month. The man was running from the cops and passed out at random houses half the week. By six pm there was liquor on his breath. His dear mom had enough one day and kicked him out. When he stumbled through the front door she had a suitcase full of his good clothes packed and handed him a small amount of cash. He told her he didn’t care and he didn’t need her. After two months of couch surfing and working odd end jobs for cash he seen something about enlisting in the military. Free housing, consistent pay and a uniform. John knew he could pick up girls easily with a uniform on, easier than his charming personality already could.

Six months later he’s in basic training regretting his decision to join. He came into basic training more out of shape than he thought. He hates reading and is having to study and sit through classes when he’s not being drilled. But by week five somehow he’s leading the class. Perfect scores on test, marksmanship skills are undeniably good, and maybe that mandatory haircut doesn’t look too bad.

He graduated top of his academy class with flying colors. Five years later price has slowed worked his way up the chain. He’s still a cocky bastard but nobody can deny his knowledge of strategies and tactics. He’s a hard ass to new guys but ensures they are well trained, after all John is a firm believer that you’re only as good as your weakest guy.

After two years of being in he realized his mom was right. So on one of his days off he showed up to his moms with flowers and sweets and apologized and thanked her for giving him the push he needed. Even if he didn’t realize it at the time.

John Price has finally got his life together. But he’s still a playboy who doesn’t see the point in setting down with a nice lady. He has time right?

Before he knows it LT John Price in his early thirties. Nobody to come home to every night actually sucks. Too much beer gives him a headache and he’s not much for parties anymore. He’s picked up a few hobbies like leather-working and fishing, but there is still a void in his life. Price is… alone.

John didn’t fear commitment, but young John didn’t see how keeping a woman by his side would benefit him then. John wishes he could go back in time and smack himself for all the times he turned down sweet kind women who wanted to settle down. He broke so many hearts, all because he thought he had time.

That’s when he starts daydreaming. Thoughts of walking through the front door and being greeted by his lover and maybe even a dog or two. Summers nights stargazing rather than slouched on the couch with a beer in hand. Having purpose, a life outside of his job. So he put the effort into making a dating profile and goes on a few dates. A few horrible dates. So he deleted the profile and slowly gave up.

Then one day you cashed into his life, well... technically he did.

Literally.

John wasn’t paying attention while backing his car out at the supermarket and backed right into your car. Your bumper was deeply scratched and your taillight cracked. You both pulled back into your parking spaces to look at the damage. Before you knew it the idiot driver that backed into you was next to you profusely apologizing. The man had tired eyes and looked defeated at his careless actions. You couldn’t deny that the idiot was incredibly handsome.

“I’m so sorry, I should have looked in my mirror and I didn’t and I-“ John rambled.

“Don’t worry, this car has more scratches than I care to count” you replied giggling.

John was clearly struggling to talk as he was distracted by your beautiful face “I completely busted that taillight. Ma’am I’m so sorry. I can get my insurance and we can get this sorted”

“Well it’s a rather old car, so I have a better proposition” you smiled watching the mountain of a man remove his beanie to rub his hair.

“What would that be” he asked.

You smirked “Well there is a cafe on the corner. You look like you could use a coffee and so could I. We go have a nice cup, sit down like old friends and chat. Look online for a taillight replacement instead of getting insurance involved”.

You pleasantly surprised John and he agreed to your idea. Firstly because he hates dealing with paperwork and secondly because this beautiful creature wanted to actually talk to him. Somehow you two just clicked.After two hours of nonstop chatting and learning about each other John received a call from work demanding him to come in on his day off. Unfortunately closing your time together.

“Well I quite enjoyed this. And if you’re comfortable with it I can install that taillight when it comes in. I would hate for you to do it yourself. And maybe after I can take you out to dinner” John said, getting a little shy with his last sentence. He was praying he didn’t misinterpret and scare you off.

“What a gentleman. I would love that” you eagerly answered. You wrote down your number for him on a napkin.

(000)-000-0000

Y/N xoxo

A broken taillight is the beginning of Domestic!Price

About a week later John arrived on your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, a tool bag and a new taillight. He was a tad bit nervous hoping to make a good impression.

Domestic!Price is the definition of chivalry.

He opens all doors for you and is quick to lend you his coat if you show the slightest signs of a chill.

Before you know it John brings you fresh flowers every week. Your grandmother always told you the stronger the intentions the longer the flowers will last. And the flowers John brings you live for what seems like an eternity.

As much as John wants to move fast he forces himself to slow his pace. He feels the need to prove he’s the gentleman you deserve. Especially after learning about your shitty dating experiences.

Even when he brought you home from your first date he only left with a kiss. Granted it was a long passionate kiss, but just a kiss. He’d desperately wanted to tear your clothes off in that moment, but didn’t want to give off the impression that he expected it. He said goodnight and left. You were kinda shocked that you two didn’t fuck, you took an everything shower and had lingerie under your outfit. But it was actually refreshing to find a man that was satisfied with just a kiss. He wasn’t putting on an act the whole night to get lucky, he was genuinely interested in you.

His good morning texts always arrive to your phone around 5:45AM. John did warn you beforehand that he frequently is away from his phone during meetings and trainings so you never worry about him ignoring or long awaited responses.

John will wake up before you regardless of the day. He’s usually found making coffee/tea and breakfast somewhere around 08:30. He usually brings it all up to bed on a tray. Heaven forbid he lets you lift a finger this early. Every morning you both snuggle with your coffee and listen to the birds chirping outside the window.

Domestic!Price is not very good at cooking, breakfast and desserts are the only things you let him make. Mostly because he’s surprisingly good at making them. You always tell him if he leaves the military he should be a pastry chef. Price likes comfort food, hardy meals that almost make him fall asleep afterwards. He’s in denial about gaining 15 pounds since he met you. But he feels that the extra pounds are just the extra love you gave him to carry around. He had to go down a notch on his belt because he’s got a little love handle to him now. You feed him well.

Football is his thing. Price is very passionate about it but thankfully he’s calm about it, he knows you don’t do well with yelling in the house. Usually takes you to a couple games a season. You two have matching jerseys, yes he had them custom made.

He hates messy. When he first joined the military he had two roommates that never picked up after themselves, neither did he. Until one day he found a molded plate in between the couch cushions, he started to become a clean freak after that. He moved out a few months later when his roommate’s wouldn’t clean up their mess.

Nowadays Domestic!Price loves a clean home. He made a chore list for both of you. He always helps you with your chores despite you telling him to relax. He loves candles and the smell of fresh sheets. Price wasn’t very organized before he met you, thankfully you managed to get the home organized and he can find everything now.

IKEA who? Never head of her. Domestic!price likes wood working. The kitchen table, cabinets, china hutch and so much more was all hand made by price. But the most elaborate thing he’s ever made? The bed frame. It has some… flair as he called it when it was finally put together. The frame has secret pockets for rope to be tied to. Specifically so he can tie you down. And let’s not forget that makeup vanity he made you, that mirror is a lockable cabinet containing a whirlwind of things. Vibes, clamps, ropes, differently shaped dildos, paddles, you name it it’s in there. Why is there two smoke alarms in your bedroom? Well… one of the is just a cover for that ceiling hook so he can suspend you.

Domestic price doesn’t mind vanilla sex. Lots of times you two disregard the kinky objects and are just wrapped in a passionate embrace. John’s not one for staying quiet, both of you could be heard from the front door when you’re together. He will be soundproofing the room if you two decide on kids.

Speaking of kids this man has the biggest breeding kink known to man. It’s not seeing his cum dripping out of your hole that fuels the fire in his belly. It’s the sheer thought of you both sitting around the dinner table with your kids asking each other about their day. Dance recitals and little league games. Watching you being a loving parent and having everything you need. That’s what he desires out of life.

Domestic!Price craves domestic life. Where there’s no threat, no bogeyman in the closet, no sound of gunfire, there’s just you two and the home you created.

John always drives, you’re a passenger princess. If it’s a nice day he takes you out for a drive in his classic car he restored himself. Windows down while 2000’s dad rock plays. Speaking of music he likes to collect vinyls. His collection grew heavily when he started buying records that you like. He plays Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors album weekly.

Domestic!Price likes slow dancing with the lights dimmed late at night. He’s a fan of 70’s music and it’s his usual go to for dancing. His father heavily influenced his music taste.

Price doesn’t care for the term boyfriend. After about a month of you two dating he promoted himself to husband. John said boyfriend “sounds childish at our age” when you asked sweetly what that was about when he introduced himself to your coworkers. He said he wouldn’t do it again if it made you uncomfortable to which you promptly said you liked it and much preferred the idea of being his wife rather than his girlfriend. That night he started looking at rings.

He went through your jewelry taking note if you wore gold or silver more. What types of jewelry styles interested you. The man was on a mission for the perfect ring. And what doesn’t it matter if you two have only been together two months? His grandparents met and married after three months and they were the definition of true love.

And yes he did propose at only four months. It was better than you could have imagined. He planned a whole weekend getaway and you never suspected it. He had rented a private boat for you two and brought champagne and charcuterie. He proposed a toast to you two and got down on one knee. You were both crying tears of joy when you said yes.

Unlike most men who buy their significant other jewelry he doesn’t buy you stones. Pearls, he buys you pearls. Expensive ones too. There’s just something about them on your neck that drives him wild. He hasn’t made the connection but it feeds into his housewife kink. There is something about him coming home from a long day and seeing you in a dress wearing those peals and an apron. A hot meal and the table is already set. You take his coat off and asking him about his day. Perfection.

Domestic!Price doesn’t share much about work. You know what he does and the stresses. He listened to your advice and does some therapy to help deal with his stress levels and the things he’s gone through. He slowly starts thinking about transferring to a job that won’t put him in the field.

He invited the boys over for dinner and his men were quite shocked. John didn’t give them much notice or anything really other than “don’t be late”.

Gaz who showed up in a tracksuit was under the impression this was a boys night with pizza and beer was shocked to arrive at a beautiful home with a perfect garden of roses. Ghost knew of your existence quite well as price loves to talk about your cooking and how much he misses you when they deploy. Soap… well… he said some things in Gaelic that you didn’t understand but surely they were those of surprise. Soap felt like a dumbass for wearing jeans and a cutoff tee.

John met them at the door and welcomed them in. The boys were rather impressed by the decor and how cozy it looked. The men half expected the home to be bare as they never took price as one for decor. But the biggest shock to Soap and Gaz was you, a woman slightly younger than Price who was in cooking in the kitchen is a pretty dress, heels and pearls. Even though Ghost was aware of your existence he was floored at how Price could pull such a beautiful woman.

Price proudly introduced you with his are around you lower back. After pleasantries they all offered to help you finish cooking, to which you laughed and said no. Even price shook his head because he knows you have your process of cooking and don’t like extra hands because it overwhelms you. And when you brought them a tray of neatly made drinks you have sworn Soap about died. No wonder Price always comes to work in a good mood, he’s got a pretty bird like you at home.

After seeing what his captains life is like outside of work it gave him some hope, maybe it’s possible to have a stable relationship with this job. Soap made a joke about “sharing”. That was the first time Price ever thought of beating Soap into the ground. Price is too proud of the life he daydreamed about to let another man or woman come into the picture. Just the thought of losing you or your lips kissing anyone but his will send him into a spiral. You’re his world. His to love, fuck, and protect.

Domestic!Price likes to slow down when he’s not at work. Life at a slower pace is more enjoyable. He can take in the sweet moments and the sunshine. He slowly starts bringing Simon and the boys around more and they too realize this.

Domestic!price doesn’t fully understand social media. He isn’t on any, most because of his job. Plus he doesn’t like how fake people are on it. He lets you post pictures of you two together but his face is always uniquely hidden, for your own protection of course. The first picture you posted of you two was actually from your wedding. You both walked together hand in hand as he was kissing your temple. After that you received several calls and texts from old friends and distant relatives asking when did you get married? Who is he? Where did you two meet?

Speaking of yours and prices wedding domestic Price was very involved in the planning. He found the most beautiful venue and really liked picking florals. I mean this man went over budget because he wanted the most elegant and elaborate flower arrangements. If you have any cultural customs John was very adamant that your customs would be met to your specifications.

Unfortunately John’s family is a handful and wanted to plan the wedding, his mother thought it was her big day. John sat her down and had a long conversation about boundaries and respect towards his soon to be wife. She actually apologized as she didn’t realize how much she was overstepping. Your mother was shocked that John was very involved with the planning, but it made her adore him even more.

You both have relatively large families but decided to keep the guests list under sixty people. Only close family and friends. This ruffled some feathers but it made for a perfect day. John is very good at controlling his emotions but when he seen you walk down the aisle his eyes welled with tears.

Domestic!Price can’t wear his ring to work. He wanted to tattoo a ring or your name somewhere on him but still feared it could be used as easy leverage. So he has a large chest tattoo that incorporates your favorite flowers and bird. In fact he starts slowing getting tattoos about you. It’s his way of keeping you with him when he’s gone.

[thecapricunt1616]

Very First Time (c.b. one-shot)

♡ Chapter Inspo: So High School - Taylor Swift ; "You know what you wanted & boy you got her" ♡ Summary: Based on ✩This✩ big brained ask from @carmenberzattosgf ♡ W/C: 9.4K ♡ Posted Date: 06/11/2024 ♡ A/N: Omg I had so much fucking fun writing this you have no idea!!! I hope this satisfies your virgin carmy tooth my dirty olive martini! Also, New look for this one shot how are we feeling yall? ♡ Warnings for BTC: SMUT SMUT SMUT, Characters are 18+, High school relationship, childhood best friend trope, virgin!carmy, Fem!/AFAB!Reader, R has long hair, No use of Y/N (r goes by childhood nickname 'squish'

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

2010

You had thought about this year at least monthly since … well - kindergarten. This was your year. 

Graduation year. 

4 decent years of high school were coming to a close. You were freshly 18 as of last week, and felt exactly the same. You actually felt worse now that your birthday had passed you by. Why? Oh. Virginity. Still having one, that thing. 

As far as you knew, all of your friends had lost theirs by now, well - you weren’t so sure. You’d think asking your longest time friend if they were also holding onto their precious dire to get rid of virginity cards as well would be easy, right? 

Wrong. Very wrong. 

This was because your bestest longest term friend? You’d been concealing a massive crush on him since sophomore year. Well, actually - technically 7th grade, when he saved your volcano from prematurely erupting by pouring borax in the hole from his project about borax crystallization after the nastiest girl in the grade dumped the cup of vinegar in it while you weren’t looking so it would explode prematurely while the teacher wasn’t watching and you’d get zero credit. 

But, you told yourself that he was just a really nice person like his sister who had babysat you a few times, so he’d probably heard about you from her and was simply being friendly. Nevertheless, the interaction made you fast friends. 

What sealed the deal to you being so close, though, was when a few days later one of the mean boys in the grade tried to make Carmy his newest victim by continually throwing pencils at the back of his head. He did this every class to someone new, and always while the teacher wasn’t looking. 

You had waited just until half a second before the pencil flew and  “Mrs.Harrison!” urgently left your lips, she quickly looked up, just in time to see the moron let the pencil go, it hit the back of Carmys head, and for Carmy send him a silent glare. 

“Jared! That’s a week of detention. It has been you with those pencils. I’m calling home too- this disruptive behavior is unacceptable!” She was so focused on writing out detention slips that she didn’t even remember you had grabbed her attention. Carmy gave you one of his shy close-mouthed smiles that made his adorable dimples show before going back to drawing some pair of cargo jean looking things on the inside of his notebook cover. 

This sealed your friendship because you had shown him your loyalty. You have my back, I have yours was always the mentality between you two. By the time you got to high school, you and Carmy were attached at the hip. In middle school, specifically in eighth grade, people would tease you two that you were dating. 

The both of you were late bloomers and hadn’t even thought about Carmy or anyone in that way yet, but by sophomore year of high school the teasing really hit home because you did have a crush on him but thought you were absolutely sure he could never like you back, that he saw you as a sister. 

Until one fateful June afternoon. 

You were laid on your full sized bed together in your childhood bedroom, flicking through a J-14 magazine to get all the latest gossip on the celebrities you follow when you settle on the Ask Sabrina page, a forum where a girl answers dating and love questions. 

Dear Sabrina, 

I was wondering - what age should you have your first kiss, French kiss, lose your virginity etc? I’m already 16 and I haven’t had sex yet, I had my first kiss at 14 and my first French kiss this year. But I feel like such a loser cause all my friends are having sex, and say it’s so much fun!! Is it really worth the hype? 

Jane from California

You roll your eyes. 16 and already had her first French kiss. She was 2 years ahead of you in that sense. You hadn’t had sex yet, either. You hadn’t really kissed a boy for real either. The only kiss you’d had to date was -

Ew! 

You had to rectify this situation immediately. The only kiss you’d had to date was Billy Guerrero? In fifth grade?! You couldn’t believe yourself. You’d let time slip away, you’d let your real first kiss prime time slip away. What guy is gonna want a girl at college who was gonna want to date a girl who can’t even kiss properly! You’d bet Carmy had kissed girls, hell he’d probably had sex already. With who you weren’t sure because the only person Carmy opened his mouth to give more then a muttered yes or no were you, and his direct family. 

Maybe it was with Claire down the street, she always seemed to you to be sweet on him. He would probably be better for him, anyway. If Mikey wasn’t teasing him about her being his girlfriend, he was teasing about you being his girlfriend. Each time he brought it up Carmy would go red as a tomato and tell him to shut up, and if Richie was around it would get even worse. 

You wondered if he liked it, why he didn’t tell you about it - wait - why hadn’t the two of you talked about sex? It wasn’t until this moment you’d realized you’d never breached the topic. You laid your magazine on your chest, flicking the cover of Carmys Spider-Man comic with your nail to get his attention from your position sprawled out over his thighs as your pillow. 

“Mm” he hums in response, blue eyes continuing to move across the page. That was something you always loved about Carmy, those large round blue eyes. You loved to tease him that he looked like Flik from bugs life. You’d done very intense studying of those eyes from your many intense staring contests over the summer breaks you two spent together, he would cheat to win, of course - but you liked having an excuse to look at his eyes, so you didn’t mind. 

“What was your first kiss like?” You test the waters. Without even realizing what you had done, he mirrored you and laid his open comic on his chest to hold his page so he could give you his full attention. 

“First kiss?” He repeats. You couldn’t believe how much better his stutter had gotten over last summer. He had told you he wanted it gone or at least as gone as he could get it by the time you went off to college, so the two of you checked out all the speech pathology books the library had to offer and got to work every day. It was hard work, but after about a month he got the hang of it. 

“Very first kiss, well - real kiss” you clarify and by nature he brushed away your bangs that had fallen in front of your eyes from the woosh of air that came from putting his comic down. 

“Uh- w-wh-“ he stops himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, focusing really hard on what he was trying to say and a few seconds later he tries again “what’s a real kiss? Like a kiss that’s not just the back of my hand?” He joked and you snorted a chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully. 

“Yes dummy like- like a real kiss on a date or something or like…I dunno have you ever had a girlfriend? Well, before you met me? Would a 6th grade girlfriend count?” You thought out loud. You hadn’t ever had a boyfriend before, and Carmy hadn’t said he was dating anyone and spent all of his time with you that wasn’t spent at home or at school, so you could safely assume he hadn’t, but just wanted to be sure. 

“n-no- no girlfriend uh- why do you ask?” He cleared his throat that way Richie did after he asked a question he knew was stupid and you shrugged a bit 

“So who have you kissed? Claire?” You ask and those big blue eyes go wide as saucers as he shakes his head no like a bobble head 

“What - what?! W-why why would you think I kissed Claire? Claire- Claire Dunlap? from down the street?” He clarified, his cheeks heating up

“Woah! Do you have a crush on her?” You sat up and he groaned, rubbing over his face dramatically. 

“Squiiish. Not you too” he groaned dramatically. “No! I don’t like Claire! Actually to be f-fucking honest everyone always trying to cram her down my throat makes me hate her!” He huffed 

“Well then who have you kissed! A real kiss!?” You question with a laugh, unsure why he was being so secretive over something so small. The two of you could vote in the next election for Christ sake, a kiss shouldn’t be this big of a deal. 

“No one!” He blurts, the heat from his cheeks bleeding up to the tips of his ears and down his neck and collarbones. “There. Ok! No one and I sure as fuck didn’t kiss Claire Dunlap.” He crossed his arms, averting your gaze. You were sat there, just staring. You were frankly trying to absorb that, it was surprising to you with such a stud of an older brother - he hadn’t gotten around. 

“Me either” you said after a few beats of silence and his eyes quickly found yours again, mouth dropping slightly and he blinked a few times, the way that told you he was trying to digest what you were saying. 

“Y-you haven’t kissed Claire-“

“Anyone” you interrupted. His jaw dropped like a trout as he stared at you in shock and you grabbed your magazine, rolling it up and bonking him on the head with it.  “Don’t look at me like that! You haven’t kissed anyone either! I technically have you beat because I kissed Billy G. at recess in fifth grade once even though it was just like… a mom kiss you know like a- like” you demonstrate a little puckery peck of your lips. 

His eyes narrowed with jealousy and you smiled proudly “Squish, one - Bear? Zero” that was one thing about you two, you were always in a competition of some kind. Who could run farther, who could read a book faster, who could get their homework done first, you never realized it translated into other things too, and that neither of you were in the lead. 

“I bet I’m better then you at kissing even though I haven’t done it I’ve practiced more so I’m good when it’s time for me to show my skill” he smirked, picking up his comic again. You scoffed 

“Practice? On what, your bathroom mirror? It doesn’t count if it’s not a person, dummy.” You said and he shrugged 

“Find out” he said casually, eyes not tearing up from the page. Now it was your cheeks that felt like they were on fire. Find out?! Find out what, does he even realize what he’s offering you right now?! 

“Find out? What- you want to kiss me?” You said and he smirked a bit, dimples showing and his eyes flick back to yours. 

“It’s you who wants to kiss me. I told you I’m a better kisser then you, so, if you don’t believe me why don’t you come find out.” He mused and went right back to reading. You sat there for a few moments, dumbfounded. You had a crush on Carmy, but it was only founded when you weren’t together - well, that was a lie, you still thought about kissing him while you were with him but would scold yourself for it that it was weird because he’s your best friend and it’s wrong to think of him that way. 

But now he was just offering like it was his apple he didn’t want at lunch.  

“French or regular?” You ask, trying to play it cool and the astonished look on his face led you to cackle, shoving his shoulder “what?! Stop looking at me like that weirdo!” You said and he smiled, shaking his head and doing one of those slow Carmy blinks as he sighs, a little smirk on his lips. He always reminded you of Natalie when he did that, he must have gotten it from her. 

“You want me to stick my tongue in your mouth?” He mused and you nod

“I actually think it goes both ways- and with 0 practice I’d win. Sure of it.” You said cockily and shrugged a bit. He snorts a chuckle

“And how do we determine a winner?” He asked, shutting his comic and resting it on the nightstand next to your bed like he was genuinely weighing the offer in his mind. 

You were quiet for a few moments, looking at him carefully - and it seemed like he was serious as you were, so you said “It’s supposed to feel good, right? So…whoever like..moans first?” 

“Uh o-okay- okay sure um.” He swallowed thickly, wiping his hands on his jeans that you assumed were clammy now how they got when he was nervous. “So- how- how do you wanna like- sit,” he asked. Fuck. You were just now realizing you weren’t actually sure. Your heart was thumping so hard in your chest, blood was roaring in your ears. This was all going so fast - you were going to do it. You were going to kiss your crush. 

“Uh-“ you said stupidly, tucking your hair behind your ears and digging your chapstick out of your pocket, cause guys like soft cherry flavored lips, right? If he was kissing you for a stupid competition you may as well make it good. “Yeah um. I think, maybe criss cross? Right? Like how we would play sailer by the sea” you crossed your legs and sat in front of him 

“We should play later I’ve been practicing with nat - I’m totally gonna beat you” he crossed his legs, and you moved in closer so your knees were touching but your faces were still about 2 feet apart, too big a distance for a kiss. “Also- we’re gonna need to be closer” he said plainly. You snorted a laugh,

“Yes - we can play. How am I supposed to get closer?” You asked, and in one fluid motion he stuck his hands under your calves, and uncrossed your legs before dragging you forward quickly and wrapping your legs around his waist. You could feel his breath. 

“There” he looks at you, eyes fanning from your eyes to your lips and back again. “That’s ok, right?” The low softness of his voice, mixed with the action of him just taking control how he did - it sent this feeling down to your core that felt so good. Like a pleasureful pulsing heartbeat, the only time you got that feeling was when you were alone in bed at night squeezing your thighs together thinking about Carmy. 

“Mmhmm” you hummed, unsure what to do with your hands so you settled for placing them on your thighs. “So- uh- ok. I guess um..let’s get started?” Your voice was small, nervous. A definite switch of roles for the two of you. You weren’t sure if this was normal, but you assumed it was for Carmy. 

He was being so normal about it, the same normal he was when you got your period at his house - he just went to Natalie’s bathroom, and came back to the guest bathroom with a few pads and tampons for you, as well as feminine wipes - normal. Not weird, like this happens every day for him. Like - periods (or in this case) sex isn’t the most embarrassing thing to teen life. His chill demeanor told you that he strictly saw it as a platonic friendly competition, so why do your panties feel sticky all the sudden?

“It’s ok- we don’t have to-“ he’s interrupted by your lips on his, 

Now or never, right? 

It was warm, a little messy at first, you found out quickly you should close your eyes since he closed his and once you did it was much easier to just focus on the sensation. His lips were soft, he tasted like the bowl of trix cereal he must have had before he came over. The way his lips moved with yours was… gentle, sweet, unhurried- you found yourself chasing them when he pulled away slightly and that caused you to open your eyes 

“You-“ he huffs a small chuckle “you have t’kiss back, Squish. S’like i’m kissing a wall here” he said. You took a shaky breath, not even realizing you were just sat there like a dead fish, unmoving, in awe that his lips were really on yours. If you hadn’t just finished your period a week ago you’d be scrambling to the bathroom to see what was going on because you were gushing. 

“Uh- sorry- sorry. I was just warming up” you clear your throat awkwardly, fingers tapping on your thighs nervously “lets try again” you said, leaning in and additionally mashing your nose with his “ow- oh- gosh, sorry” you giggle and he followed suit 

“S’not your fault my beak is getting in the way” he joked, gently tilting your face and bringing his lips back to yours. You got the message this time, moving your lips with his and wow. It felt…good. That heartbeat right above your cunt had never pulsed so hard before, it nearly hurt and you weren’t sure what to do about it with him right there. 

You’d usually use the firm corner of one of your throw pillows you kept on your bed when this uncomfortable sensation happened, thinking of exactly this - kissing Carmy - and hump it, and hump it, and hump it, until you were frustrated to tears because you still felt like you weren’t finished. That the feeling would never go away unless you stopped thinking about Carmy like that - but it was addictive, and you couldn’t help but think you were chasing something. 

It all elevated when you felt his tongue on your bottom lip, it was almost like the sensation in your core was beginning to travel throughout your entire body and that had never happened before. It went from just that strong pulsing in your cunt, travelling to a tightness that was winding up in your stomach, your breasts felt good - as strange as that thought was, the only time you remembered they were there was when they were sore because your period was coming, so the warm gushy feeling in your chest and the pangs of pleasure that were coursing through you from the simple swipe of his tongue was something to be revered.

From there, it was like you were following a script you hadn’t even known you’d memorized. Your hands found his shoulders, before travelling to the back of his neck and rubbing over the little curls at the base. You swipe your tongue over his, fingers sprawling over the back of his head to pull him in closer. You didn’t know what came over you, but you deepened the kiss, and he accepted. His hands found the back of your waist, squeezing gently and trailing up your sides, stopping hard below your breasts.

You pulled away, looking at him. If it was any other day, he’d have thought you were initiating a staring contest, but the blown-out look in your eyes and small pants leaving your lips reminded him of when their family cat had a little too much catnip and started climbing the screen doors, wild. His eyes nearly fell out of his head when the next question left your lips 

“Have you had sex before?” your voice was breathy, if you had known better you’d have called it for what it was - horny. The only thing on your mind was Carmy, not how your mom would be home any minute and you forgot to take out the chicken for dinner, not how it probably isn’t a normal thing for best friends or any friends really, to kiss. But you and Carmy hadn’t really ever been ‘normal’ friends. 

“Uhhh” he tried to find his words. He looked so pretty. His cheeks were the pretty flush pink you loved on him so much, it suited him. His lips were swollen and kiss bitten and red. You realized that the glossiness on them was a mixture of your salivas and that brought a burst of that delicious warmth to your chest. “N-no, haven’t have you- I mean- can you have sex without kissing?” he wondered out loud.

“I don’t want to leave high school a virgin” you blurt out. It was half true, you did feel a bit like a loser, even though you could always lie and tell people you had done it even if you hadn’t. It also felt like the one opportunity was presenting itself for you to have sex with your childhood crush and if he agreed, then a win is a win in your book.

“Alright and- and uh” he sits back on the headboard, huffing a chuckle and rubbing over his mouth as he thought, staring up at the ceiling to try and get a gauge on what he was about to say. It was one of the habits he’d picked up during all of your speech practice together, it was cute, almost like he was stopping the words from falling out of his mouth before he was ready to say them so it didn’t come out all jumbly and stuttered. “And you wan’t help with this- i’m assuming you see it as a problem? Thats why you brought it up, right? You want help with that…issue” he mused. 

Suddenly, you felt really, really shy. Shy, stupid, flustered, any synonym for embarrassed and feeling like a complete and utter moron. “I shouldn’t have said anything - i’m sorry, uh- you win” You got up, going over to your dresser and digging out your after-school clothes to change since you were in jeans still. Why the hell would you say that? What, was he gonna just offer to have sex with y-

“I-I mean- I don’t want to, either. I just uh- haven’t… y’know - met anyone who I trusted enough to do it with. But- it- it felt good… the kiss? So, if you wanted we could um..cause- cause I trust you, I trust you more then like…anyone- so, yeah- I-I mean it’s like- like a favor right? You uh…scratch my back- er whatever the saying is- if- if you want to” you looked back at him to see him rambling with his gaze locked on the floor, clearly feeling as stupid and embarrassed as you feel. 

Holy shit, this may actually happen. 

“Yeah- yeah” you agree, mulling it over in your mind. He’s right, this shouldn’t change your friendship, because from what you’d heard - losing said virginity wasnt fun, it was weird, uncomfortable, and a little gross sometimes, so it was almost like you two could get the awkward first time part out of the way together so you could both hit the ground running in terms of dating and hooking up when it came to college, cause that's what college was supposed to be all about, right? Finding the love of your life?

“Sure- Uh-” you swallow thickly and toss him one of the many pairs of sweatpants he kept in your dresser for when he slept over as well as a fresh t-shirt and grab yourself a clean pair of panties from your top drawer since although the awkwardness had taken away that dull needy ache, you were still uncomfortably wet and had to get yourself cleaned up and changed. “How about Friday? My parents have their date night so- you could come over after school and we can um…do it?” you ask and he nodded quickly, grabbing the sweatpants and sweatshirt.

“Yeah- perfect, that’s - mmhmm” he swallowed hard, cheeks bright red. You would totally be making fun of him right now if you weren’t absolutely sure you looked just as flustered, the two of you sharing at eachother in silence like a pair of deer in headlights. 

“I’m gonna go change” you said and left the room, closing the bathroom door behind you and sighing deeply to yourself, leaning against the door. 

And so it was set. 

Carmy had exactly 3 days to study up on this topic other than sophomore health class he knew absolutely nothing about. Well- he had found one of Michaels Playboy magazines before when he was 14, it was the first time he popped a boner and it freaked him out so bad since his father wasn’t very present and Mike hadn’t given him the talk yet. It was a solid 2 months of worrying that he had some weird dick cancer because he got hard every time he peeked through said porn-mag before he asked Mike about it, and he still hasn’t lived down the teasing. Thank god Mike kept his word on not telling Richie.

The moment he left your house that day it was straight to the Chicago public library. 3 books, 3 days. He was going to do his homework on this, because he was going to win the game he knew was inevitably pun intended coming his way. It was going to become a competition, and he knew the name of the game in sex was an orgasm, he knew that much at least, thank god. 

The 3 titles he’d settled on, 

Sex For Dummies ; He’d figured that should speak for itself, it sounded to him like the beginners guide to fucking. He wondered why every teen didn’t get a copy of this book, he’d heard guys talking about how sometimes girls are really bad in bed - so if everyone got one, like the dictionaries they all got in elementary school - he thought their lives would probably be made easier in that department.

She Comes First; and boy, was that a read. He stayed up so late Wednesday night reading it that you had to wake him in homeroom when the bell rang to go to first period. He didn’t know there were so many things to know about a vagina, but he was confident now he probably knew more then any guy in the school about pussys and what gets them going at least on paper once he read all 350 pages in one day.

He comes next; It made alot of sense. This was the breaziest read for him, he sat on the L after school reading it on the ride home. Of course, the front was covered in a brown paper bag he’d taped to it so no one could tell what he was reading, he wasn't a pervert! He was glad he read she comes first, first, because he’d learned that girls can cum more then once, and that when they do - it gets better each time. He also learned that the clit is the best part to touch, and that it actually has like- a tail? Or something? Inside that you can mess with too, and it feels super good for the girl. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to find something like that with his dick, but he guessed he’d figure it out.

The day was finally here. You had been thinking about it all week long. The prep you were doing was very different then the prep he was. You were making sure your entire body was smooth, plucking your eyebrows, waxing your upper lip, whitening your teeth, shaving your big toe. Literally, anything and everything grooming. You had put on a lacy pink thong that you’d gotten at the mall a year or so ago in preparation for the night you finally did this, but after observing yourself in the mirror you felt insecure about it. It was just Carmy, he wasn’t into you, it would be weird if you tried to be sexy, right? Like you were trying to seduce him or something? So you settled on some plain grey panties, instead, and a black bra. 

You heard a knock at the door right at 7. Exactly on time, per usual. Your parents had left for their date 20 minutes ago, so it was perfect timing. When you opened the door, you heart may as well have melted and poured out of your ass to see Carmy standing there with a bundle of red roses. “Hey- uh- so - got you these” he thrust them in your direction. They were already cut, and thornless, ready to be plopped in a vase. You could see a little bandage on the pinky finger of his non-dominant hand that wasn’t there at school today, he must have pricked himself while he was trimming them up. 

“Y’get a girl flowers, you trim em’ up, n’for the roses gotta take the thorns off, eh’? Don’t wan’t t’hurt ylady do you? And you trim ‘em cause girls like it, makes em’ all even n’shit. N’it Makes em’ live longer too. Y’givin a gift not a chore heard? Flowers need to be able to be dropped in a vase and that's it, otherwise y’re a prick f’givin’ y’r lady a job t’do” Mikey explained as he snipped the thorns off of the roses he’d gotten for his date. The conversation stuck with Carmy all these years, he promised himself one day he’d put the advice to use.

“Oh- wow - Bear, these are like -” you leaned in, smelling them deeply, the sweet floral sense filling your nose “Wow- this is so sweet of you, you didn’t have to” you stepped back and opened the door wider. He followed you in, shutting the door behind him like usual.

“Mikey says it’s what y’do I guess, so - expect flowers from guys you do this with” he nudged you with his shoulder playfully. The action made your heart flutter but also stomach sink , heavy with nerves. Right. He’s here to just get something over with, like he was probably expecting you to be and the flowers were just a result of him wanting to do things right and not because he had any real, tangible feelings for you other than platonic.

“Mmm, will do. Thanks- I’m gonna go get these in some water, you can get settled” you told him and headed into the kitchen to find a vase. When you came back to the room his hoodie was neatly folded and sitting on your desk, his shoes tucked away beneath it and there was a… towel? On your bed? 

“Uh-” you set the vase of flowers on your dresser 

“Right- uh- so the towel, they say in the books for your first time, sometimes girls will bleed a little? Or- or if I do it right things can get really wet, so…just trying to be proactive I didn’t wanna make a huge mess y’know?” he explained while staring at the towel and rubbing the back of his neck nervously how he did, heat creeping across the bridge of his nose and onto his cheeks.

“You…studied?” you smile a bit at the idea. You wondered how he did so, did he just watch porn?! You had heard from girls with boyfriends that watch porn - the sex was usually bad, and that they went way to hard and fast. You hoped it wasn’t that.

“Yeah I read some stuff.. How else will I know what the fuck m’doin?” he watched you as you sat down on top of the towel, assuming that was the spot he meant for you. 

“Uh- yea…yeah. Ok, well thanks- I guess I should have studied, too. Didn’t even think about it- my legs are soft, though. And I shaved my - um- yeah.” you said, voice getting meeker and smaller by the end. The two of you were never like this, it was usually constant banter and comfortable silence. Awkwardness wasnt something the two of you experienced together up until now.

“Thank you- you didn’t have to it’s…it’s just hair. But um…go pee, before we get started- you should pee.” he sat down on the bed in front of you. You looked at him confused, brows furrowing together but before you could ask he added “In the books, they said for girls - it can feel like…like you need to pee, right before the good part if I do it right. So, if I do do it right- I want you to be able to finish instead of worrying if you’ll pee on me, so I figured if you go pee now then-” you held your hand up, shaking your head as you stood.

“No further info needed” you said as you padded off to the bathroom. Even though the shower you had taken not even an hour prior to him coming over was so thorough made you fresh as the day you were born you still wiped up with babywipes before coming back to see 2 granola bars and 2 bottles of water on the nightstand. “Are you planning on making me pass out or something?” you joked, sitting back on the towel like before. 

He chuckled a bit “Well if i’m that good my first time it’ll be a record or something I bet” he rubbed his forearm nervously “So um..should we kiss? Like last time?” he asked, averting your gaze. You didn���t know this, but he thought he was genuinely about to have a heart attack, and the only reason he was continuing instead of asking you to call an ambulance was because if he was to die in your bed while making out because of the sheer excitement that came with the potential of you touching his dick, he would have died happy. 

The question being asked in that soft, sweet tone of his- syrupy and honest, made your stomach flip- and there was a pang of warmth to your heat that made your heart jump to your throat with anticipation. You couldn’t answer, instead, you just nodded, not breaking his gaze. Jesus fucking Christ those eyes. You had only seen the ocean once, in Hawaii on a vacation. His eyes made you think of the waters in Maui, that was how blue. You could get lost in them like they were the ocean, they often rendered you speechless, like he could peer into your soul. “Okay” he said gently.

This time, the kisses started small. He gently pecked the corner of your lips, before you remembered that yes you had a job to do here as well, and you put your hand gently on the side of his cheek, barely touching him. He could feel you shaking, so he put his hand over yours, gently squeezing your four fingers as his lips captured yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. The feeling was so…different then last time. This time felt much more purposeful, and not in the get it over with way, in the i’ve been meaning to do this, way.

Honestly, the feeling made you dizzy. Not dizzy in the kind of way that immediately made you want to throw up, -

 (Carmy learned you got very motion sick very quick at your 15th birthday party when he, Mike, Natalie, and Richie were teaching you how to play dead-man on the trampoline and within 10 seconds of being bounced with your eyes closed by the 4 of them you were scrambling to throw up a mix of cake and pasta) 

- but dizzy in the way that you weren't forming any kind of memory of the encounter, and you also weren’t sure what you were doing - but you came to with your shirt off, dry humping your best friend as he laid sprawled over your floral duvet panting into each others mouths as your childhood teddybear watched the two of you manhandle eachother, he honestly looked like he was judging, but you mentally told him to fuck off.

“Yeah-” he breathed, his cheeks were a pretty pink, his pupils “I-I think that was um…better then last time. Do you feel hot? I feel hot” he admitted, swallowing hard as you both caught your breath. You looked down and oh, yeah - he's still fully dressed. You were still mostly dressed, too. Well, your shirt - you hadn’t a clue where it went, but your fluffy pajama pants were still suffocating your thighs and holy shit..

He is hard as a rock against your clothed pussy right now. 

You look back up at him, and nod in agreement. “Feels like - wow- yeah. Uh- m’hot” you got up and saw the evidence of his arousal straining against his jeans. “Uh- so…” you trail off 

“I think i’m supposed to do that part” he sat up, taking his shirt off in that silly boyish way with one fluid motion pulling it up over the back of his head, his sandy blonde hair becoming ruffled by the action. You look over his chest, not even bothering to not stare. That was the point of this whole thing right, to experience? In turn, he crossed his arms shyly, to be expected. Carmy had been open about his upset that he got more of his moms genes then his dads. He was short, softer-jawed, smaller-lipped, and bigger-eyed, the only thing he got was the big Italian Berzatto nose. 

His brother was tall, much broader, was able to grow a full face of stubble by 17. Carmy was still patchy, but he was proud of his little patch of curly brown hair in the middle of his chest. Mike kept telling him he would ‘grow like a weed’ as soon as he turned 20, he didn’t believe it, though. 

“Oh- yea? Thats what they said in your sex books” you teased and stepped forward, between his spread thighs, likely to give his dick breathing room. His hands found your hips as he snorted a chuckle 

“Shut up” he smiled and carefully pulled down the waistband of your pajama bottoms. “I did read…” he helped you step out of them, hands trailing up the backs of your now bare thighs. The action made goosebumps appear on your flesh, nearly made you shiver. “That you are supposed to cum first, it’s like…a warm up.” he explained, looking up at you as he made his way to hold your hips again. You realized quickly, that his hands were also trembling, and he kept stroking and petting you hoping you wouldn’t notice as much. 

Your panties had a dark spot on them that he became fixated on momentarily, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. You felt that twitching at his words, your hole clenching around absolutely nothing. You weren’t sure you could remember what color the sky was if someone asked at that moment, you were so focused on Carmy, it was like you two and this bedroom were the only things in the universe. “I haven’t been able to do it, I don’t think you’ll be able to - but you can try. How do you want to do this should I just lay down and I dunno… you stick it in? I got 3 boxes of condoms, different kinds just in case” you went to open your nightstand and he stopped you, grabbing your hand. 

He chuckled a bit, you took it as a you don’t know what you’re doing, let me explain kind of laugh, but really he was just wondering how the following words came out of his mouth “I’m supposed to eat your pussy, could I try?” 

You swore your knees went weak. Carmen, Carmen Berzatto wanted to go down on you. Thank god you made sure that department was taken care of so well in preparation. “Uhhh- alright” you sat down on the towel, twiddling your fingers nervously “So- wow uh” you giggle nervously, covering your mouth with your hand. 

“Your um..you look pretty, by the way” he said while looking at the duvet. He sounded as nervous as he was when he said that. He had thought you looked pretty from the moment he walked through the door, but was too nervous until you were both literally almost naked to say it. You could hardly believe it, because you did your best to not put in a ton of effort. Sure, you were very well groomed, but you didnt like - dress up or put makeup on or do your hair how you would have wanted, you were in regular bra and panties, and pajamas when he walked in. You were also pretty sure that you had a zit growing on your chin and really hoped he hadn’t noticed.

But, that was exactly why he thought you looked so pretty. He loved that you let him have you like this, well - in both senses. He felt so lucky to be able to see you comfortable, in your element. “Thanks, dork, so do you get the honors of taking my panties too?” you teased. That was the difference between you, when you got nervous you cracked jokes and made fun of him to ease the tension in your own mind  - when he got nervous he often got lost in the tension of his own mind causing him to go quiet. 

“I do actually, says the book- so lay down” he shoots back in the same teasing tone, a small smile gracing his lips once again. You, and his brother were the only 2 that could pull him out of his head so fast, and so easily. You shook your head, laying back on the pillows he’d set up and spreading your legs, laying your feet flat on the bed. He sat in front of you, running a hand up your leg and feeling over the soft, smooth skin. “You are really soft” he muttered, almost to himself, feeling up your thigh “Do you mind if I kiss you, here?” he asked gently, running a palm over the inner of your thigh. No one had ever touched you there, so the action made you shiver since the area was surprisingly sensitive.

“Sure” you said quietly, watching his every move with wide, curious eyes. You were sure the wet spot on your panties had grown tremendously due to the way you felt dripping down the curve of your ass, thank god for that towel when they come off or my sheets would probably soak through by the end of this. He started at your ankle, leaving gentle pecks and putting your manicured foot on his shoulder as he continued his journey of kissing up your shin, over your knee, not leaving a single part unkissed. If this is what sex was about, you totally got why all your friends were raving about it, because you were being driven absolutely wild and it hadn’t even really started yet. 

He kissed up to your thigh, laying down in between your legs. His forearms were wrapped around the plush of your thighs, hugging them as he left kisses over the waistband of your panties. The action made your stomach muscles clench at how good he was making you feel. You needed something to touch you, though. That was the only thing on your mind, but before you could ask - he beat you to it. “Would you be ok with me kissing your middle here?” his voice was husky, breathy. He was gripping your thighs so his hands wouldn't shake, he was fucking panting like he just ran the mile in P.E. and he wasn’t sure why. 

His mouth was watering at the smell of you, he had to fucking swallow a mouthful of spit before he could say something. He felt like a fucking starved animal, but he was gathering every polite, gentlemanly fiber of his being to remain kind, gentle. “Please do” you said and without hesitation, he was essentially making out with your cunt through your panties. The sight was filthy, but so sexy it was making your head spin. 

Whines and moans were leaving your throat you weren’t even aware of as you watch him, slack jawed and sucking at the fabric of your panties, grunting and moaning at the flavor. “T-take em off…please-” you weren’t sure where the bedroom voice that came out of you came from, but he seemed to like it at the way his eyes rolled and fluttered shut at the way you were begging for him to eat you out. 

He sat up just enough to get your panties pulled off, shoving them in the back pocket of his jeans before laying back down and resuming his position. “Taste so, so good, squish, better than I imagined” he said before kissing your mound. The wet clicking sound of your pussy clenching at his words made heat rush your cheeks in embarrassment, but it made his dick twitch against his jeans. “Can I kiss your clit?” he asked, the casualness of his tone made your head fall back on the pillow, covering your face with embarrassed hands at the vulgarity of it all.

“Go ahead, Bear” you said, smile lacing your voice. 

“I liked it when you were lookin’ at me, just so you know” he said, spreading you out with his fingers and looking for just a moment, he found it easily as it had grown nearly twice it’s size, peeking out of its hood. He attached his lips to it, just like the book he’d read said to do, and lightly sucked, before flicking his tongue lightly over it. Your hand clamps over your mouth to stifle the cry that left your throat, hips jerking and you grab his hair with your other hand, not even meaning to but tugging. 

This caused a moan to leave his throat, which in turn caused his lips to vibrate, and you looked down at him, vision hazy like a dream at the sensation. “God- oh god- feels so good Bear - wow- you’re so good at this” you said, breath heavy and jaw slack “uh-huh” you whine when he pads his tongue over your clit in wide, wet drags. The sounds his mouth was making as he sucked and kissed and lapped at your juices were absolute sin, the hottest shit you’d ever heard. 

“D’you like it more when I kiss your clit like I was doin’ or when I run my tongue on it like that?” he asked, sucking at your folds and nose nudging your clit as he waited for an answer. 

“Both - Both- everything feels good - you feel so good” you praised, pushing his bangs from his face. He smiled into you proudly, continuing to lick, and suck, and swirl his tongue. It had been a knot building for a while, and it had been about 30 minutes of him doing this, when you felt it. But, all the activities you’d been engaged in the conversation you had before you started slipped your mind. “Fuck- fuck - sorry- I gotta pee” you told him and tried to tug him off

“Y’dont, trust me, just trust me” he said determined, he had told himself before going into this that if he could make you cum, that it would be his prize because per the books he’d read one of the main complaints with women was that their male partners didn’t bother to be sure they finished, so if you never wanted to do this again - he’d pride himself internally forever on be the very first man to ever make you cum. 

You whined, back arching to the ceiling and hips dipping back into the bed. You didn’t want him to stop, so you weren’t sure why you were subconsciously trying to wiggle away. Your eyes had been closed for a few moments, and you felt a hand on your stomach, dancing fingers following it. You opened them to see him looking up at you, and his eyes flicker to his hand that was laying palm up on your belly before meeting your gaze again, in a silent ask for you to hold his hand. 

Without thinking, you did so, needing to be grounded in that moment. His thumb rubbed soothing strokes on the back of your hand as he built up the speed of his tongue, running it back and forth and up and down, flicking it, sucking on the sensitive nub until your brain turned to mush, and stars filled your vision. 

“Carmy Carmy- Oh shit- Yes” 

The grand finale only lasted about a minute or two, but by the end your thighs were shaking and you were gasping for breath. “Y’need to breathe, did you forget humans need oxygen to live?” he teased. You’d usually give him a light punch on the shoulder for that, but your whole body felt like warm jelly. 

“Shut up” you pant, looking down when you feel your clit twitching every few moments “I think you broke it its like.. Having a seizure or something” you said and you both burst into giggles. After a few moments of comfortable quiet you nudge him with your foot “Hey” he looks up at you “Its your turn now” you said and his brows raised

“Y-you don’t have t’do that, that was sex, so - congratulations we are both not virgins” he wiped his chin on the inside of his arm and sat up. You furrowed your brow

“No- I want to, I can make you cum, too ” you said, in your mind, it was a challenge - and when it came out of your mouth you realized how it sounded.

“Are you… asking me for permission to suck my dick?” he looked at you carefully. Shyly, you just nod. For whatever reason the nature of the room and this particular situation had the two of you acting out of traditional character roles, and he was the one being bold. “I want you to say it, then you can suck my dick” he said and stood up, unbuttoning his jeans and looking at you, brows raised expectantly as he waited for you to do as he asked.

Your throat suddenly felt dry, and you were starting to drip on that damn towel again. “Bear, I wanna suck your cock, Can I please?” you asked, tone innocent yet laced with a confident determination. His breath got caught in his throat, you swore his eyes could have fallen out. He didn’t know the word cock was apart of your very colorful vocabulary, he could have creamed his boxers with the way that the word rolled off of your tongue. 

“Sure” he said all too casual and tugged off his jeans, kicking them to the side. He laid down with you, like how he was while you were making out and you got on your knees tugging the waistband of his boxers until his cock came out and kissed his navel, the tip glistening with pre. 

“So-” you look at it, mouth watering at the sight. You had never done this, but you were sure that you knew one thing for sure, Carmy had a really pretty cock. You didn’t even realize you were staring until he said 

“S’not gonna suck itself, squish.” 

Oh, right, that was what you were doing. You grab it and he hissed “Fuckin’ hell- y’tryna rip it off? A little nicer, please” he chuckled a bit and you felt your cheeks heat, loosening your grip. 

“Sorry…” you said sheepishly, bending over and licking the tip of it, one slow drag from the back of your tongue to the tip of it, flicking your tongue over the slit your nose scrunching slightly at the new flavor. The action though, had Carm seeing stars and his toes curling.

“Hhhhnnn- oh my fucking god” he rasped. You figured that was a good thing, so you did it again “Squish I-” and again, “yes- fuck” and again, “Squish i-i’m gonna mmmmmffff” he whined, his cock twitching in your hand and leaking pre in a near continuous drip. You had no expirience, so you had no idea what this meant, or that he was trying to warn you. With 3 more slow sensual ball to tip licks, he was shooting cum all over your nose, upper lip, tongue, and chin. You squeak in surprise, sitting up and licking your lips. “Oh- hmmmmfuck- gimme a sec” he groaned, taking over for you and stroking himself, the remainder of his load shooting over his stomach. 

You watched in awe as he got himself off, back lightly arched and head fallen back, eyes closed as sexy pants and moans left his lips, along with soft “fuck - thank you, thank you” It was literally the hottest thing you had ever seen. He stopped after a moment, finding his breath and looking up at you, when he saw your milky white chin it both made his softening dick twitch and drew a chuckle from him. “When I keep saying im gonna do something and my dick is leaking like a broken sink it means open up er get out of the splash zone” he joked and grabbed his shirt, wiping your chin and neck. 

You laughed, laying back down and sighing contently. “Noted for next time” you said and he fixed his boxers, sitting up and stroking your calf. 

“There can be a next time? I mean…. I was hoping so that was really fun, felt really good” he said and you nod, smiling a bit 

“Sure, I mean, yeah… but it doesn’t mean we stop like- doing friend stuff, right?” you questioned. As much fun as you had, you could never give up something as treasured as your friendship for something as trivial as sex. 

“Oh, absolutely, who else is gonna wait w’me to get the new spiderman comics? And whos gonna feed you when your parents are out of town?” he teased and you rolled you eyes playfully, smiling and shaking your head. 

“Love you, dork” you bit your lip as he brought your other ankle to his lips. 

“Love y’too, Squish. Can I?” he looked down at your glistening core, before back at you. You bit your lip lightly, you weren’t sure if all men were this enthusiastic about eating pussy - but you were thankful that he was because your mind was still swimming from the last time and you had to experience it again. 

“Mmhmm” you spread your legs wider for him and he took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he got to work. You had found quickly that when you tell him something feels good or he’s doing a good job that it really got him going. It was cute, truly, how he loved being praised, so you made sure to do it whenever you could get something out that wasn't a babbled, coherent mess since the pleasure he was providing was causing your brain to short circuit.

An hour and a half and 3 orgasms later, after about 10 minutes of trying to catch your breath and cool down since you were boiling from the blood coursing your system like an F1 racetrack, you sit up. “M’gonna go get cleaned up” you said, going to get up on wobbly legs.

“No! No, I got it lay down don’worry” he said and made his way to the bathroom. He came back with babywipes and a wet wash cloth, as well as a dry clean towel to wipe off with after. He helped you wipe up and knowing your bedroom by heart, he went over to your dresser and got you a fresh set of panties and a tshirt, as well as a pair of his sweatpants so you could both be comfortable. After you had both gotten dressed, he laid in your bed after bringing the towel downstairs to the wash for you both as well as your dirty clothes, and you cuddled into his chest as you turned on your little tv, playing the next episode of Glee and he hands you a granola bar after being sure you had a few sips of water to replenish.

“To no longer being virgins, hm?” he smiled a bit, holding his bar up in a silly idea of a toast. You tap yours to his with a grin

“To no longer being virgins”

[artficlly]

smog & spirits: spirit-raiser

Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and you are the witch he has chosen to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, begging, orgasm denial, fingering, p in v, no aftercare, sex magic, blood magic, potion for arousal, curses and hexes, witchcraft, possession, mediums, if you squint theres some plot, smoking, mention of death/violence/torture, mention of police brutality, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8k

A/N: hey. don't ask. this idea came to me a few days ago and i wrote it all out in like two sessions at 2am. i want to write more for this, i have so many ideas for some more one-shot style interactions. this just got so long so quickly so i had to cut some stuff. sorry for any typos - not proof read and edited while half asleep lol.

main masterlist

You did not remember leaving your door unlocked. 

The fog that settled over the smokey, portside district of Sootstone was suffocating. Despite it being only midday, the entire neighbourhood was cast into a muggy gloom. The sun could not break through the thick smog that comfortably nestled itself along the windy streets of The Warrens. The stench of smoke and fish hung heavy in the air, with sweaty dockworkers and dirty children darting between alleys. In your short journey to and from the small Sunday market, you had nearly been bowled over thrice by oblivious residents. 

The Warrens, or Sootstone Port, as it was formally known, was not a pleasant place. Home to the working class and the rotted underbelly of the city of Blackstone. The high society chatters liked to forget such a place existed, as it was simply not a charming place to think about. Most worked the ports, ferrying in the sea trade. Others worked in the Smokestack district, manufacturing metal in factories that pumped ash and soot into the air. There were also the select few who turned to other trades, such as pubs, hotels, brothels, or even those who were forced into a life of joblessness on the streets. 

The Warrens weren’t so imaginatively named. It was a clever joke among high-society gossipers that the poor fucked like rabbits and lived in their elaborate winding burrows, from which they rarely emerged for air. The people of Sootstone had accepted the insult, finding the whole metaphor rather hilarious. That was because the Warreners could take a joke, unlike the condescending crowd of high society. It could also be argued that the residents of The Warrens could not come up with a better metaphor, as most were not educated in any sense. 

Perhaps the mixture of smog and that lack of an education had finally made it to your head. You were left standing, perplexed, as your front door swung open without so much of a nudge. The lock was normally a sticky one, leaving you to jiggle the knob and slam your shoulder against the frame until it came unstuck. Never in your two years of living in the tiny flat had you ever witnessed such a sight. 

You would’ve thought it a miracle if it weren’t for the implications. 

It was true that The Warrens were notorious for crimes. Theft, assault, and murder. Even if coppers paraded the streets, they weren’t truly there to stop criminals. No, they were more interested in beating any poor innocents that got in their way. It was better to find protection from vigilante gangs who roamed Sootstone’s streets, scrapping like stray dogs over territories. As much as those uninvolved in such business were afraid of them, they also respected them. Their deeds weren’t always motivated by blood and destruction; the gangs stood to protect their communities as no one else would. 

Even if you and your surrounding neighbours were under the protection of Barnes’ Smog Boys, it was definitely still alarming to see a group of them gathered in your small kitchen. 

“Lookie who's home.” One of the men cooed at the sight of you. He stood closest to the door, one hand tucked in his jacket pocket while the other fiddled with a toothpick that hung from his lips. His blond hair was slicked back, tucked under a flatcap. Steve Rogers. The Smog Boys right hand man. Next to him was Sam Wilson, his stocky form leaning against your rickety cupboards. His gaze was fixed on a silver pocket watch he had tightly secured in his left palm, a short chain draping across his vest. He glanced up at Steve’s words, a wicked smirk crossing his lips at the sight of you. 

“Sunday market?” Sam queried, and you drew your woven basket closer. There was an unsettling sneer in his voice. 

The Smog Boys were one of seven gangs that roamed the underbelly of Blackstone. Their territories lay in the fog of Sootstone Port and the smokey streets of the Smokestack district and The Warrens. You could commonly see them stalking the streets, dressed in all black with their flatcaps and slicked back hair. They moved through the smog like ghosts, navigating the twisting streets with an unnatural ease. Some called them ghouls; others called them saviours from the fog. 

The final man, the worst of them all, was Bucky Barnes. He sat across from you, half obscured by your small dining table. He had laid a box of cigarettes and matches on the marked wood. One was smoking between his lips, his head angled down and cocked to one side, as he assessed you with a look of boredom. There was a terrifying edge of calculation in his gaze as he evaluated you. He was just as large as the other two men, with muscles poorly hidden beneath his black, tailored suit. His hair, similarly to Steve's, was slicked back, and the sides buzzed. A 5’oclock shadow ghosted his jawline, but overall, his appearance was unsettlingly neat. 

Not a speck of ash or soot. As if he had just appeared within your flat, blinking into existence rather than having walked The Warrens like any other mere mortal. 

You had never seen the man in person. No. If the Smog Boys were ghosts, Bucky certainly lived up to the name. He was an enigma, a haunting story whispered between children. He had clawed his way up to a position of power from the gutters of The Warrens, bloodshed and all. He was a notorious skirt-chaser, his handsome appearance and strong build drawing in women from all classes. Looking at him now, despite the terror congealing in your blood, you could understand the appeal. 

“Why’re you here?” You ask hesitantly. Unlike the gangsters before you, you were not pristine by any means. Falling ash had coated your shoulders, staining the tartan fabric of the mantle draped over your shoulders. Your hair was swept up under a head scarf, which was also covered in a layer of soot and dust from the smokestacks. Even your worn leather boots were not safe; mud and filth caked onto the heels and sides. The streets of The Warren had never known any type of cleanliness. 

“Come to introduce ourselves. Don’t think we’ve ever met before, ‘least I think I would’ave remembered a pretty face like yours.” Steve speaks up, a gleam in his eye. His tone is playful yet somehow cruel. The chuckle he and Sam share rattles you. The two of them were also said to try their luck with the women who crowded around, searching for the thrill of a gangster lover.

“You might’ave mistaken me for someone else… I’ve lived here two years now.” You speak with a continued caution. With precise movements, as to not brush either of the hulking men crowding the kitchen entrance, you place your basket on a nearby surface. Even the cloth that you have thrown over the items is coated in a layer of ash. 

“We know.” Sam says, twisting his body. He lifts up the cloth, inspecting the food beneath. You know it is nothing exciting—some bread, fish, and vegetables. As well as a handful of sweets you gave to the children of your neighbour. You keep your mouth shut as Sam dips into the white and red striped paper bag and pops one of the sweets into his mouth with a satisfied hum. 

Steve pushes himself off the wall, his jacket brushing against you. He was far taller than you, tall enough that he had to crane his neck down in order to whisper in your ear. “A lil’ birdy told us you’re a spirit-raiser.” 

“I—No.” You stumble over your words, eyes darting between the three men. Bucky is still silent, still like a cat hunting a mouse. The gaze he assessed you with was one of a predator, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. He doesn’t crack a smile as the two men beside you laugh between themselves. 

To fend off some anxious energy, you make quick work of unknotting your headscarf. Ash and dust flutter to the ground as you shake out the fabric, a frown etched across your features. You could not help but let your mind wonder to the stories you had heard growing up. You were a lifelong resident of The Warrens, only moving to live on your own after sickness claimed your mother. You father had passed long before that, lost to drink. 

“What do you call yourself then? Hm?” Steve asks, breath hot against your cheek. You flinch as he pulls a fleck of ash from your hair. In the stories, they would speak of men with their tongues cut out. Bodies that were filled with bricks, then stitched back up and sunk to the bottom of the Sootstone Port. Men were found hanged from street lights, severely beaten, with sections of skin along their thighs and chest peeled off with a blade. And those were only the bodies coppers found. 

“I prefer witch.” You correct, brows furrowing. Your head turns to look at the gangster, wary of how close his fingers lingered. Teeth bared in a grin, he blows a soft breath across your hair, the last of the ash unsettled as it floats away. You can smell tobacco on his breath—a familiar scent to you.

“I need a favour.” Bucky finally speaks up, his voice low. Your gaze snaps to meet his. 

You blink. “A favour?”

You jump as Bucky finally moves, his foot jerking as he kicks the seat opposite him. The chair scrapes across the hardwood floors, stopping centimetres before your boots. 

“Sit.” He commands. 

Sam’s hand finds the back of your neck, a soft push guiding you in the direction of the free space. You obey, your knee bouncing as you take a seat. You sit near the edge of the chair, leaving some distance between yourself and the table. As if sensing your desire to bolt, Steve sweeps up behind you, pushing the chair in until you are fully tucked in. Then, with mocking laughter, Sam and Steve take a seat on either side of you. 

“No one told me there was any issue about magic—” You begin. Steve snickers beside you, returning to fiddling with the toothpick still poking from his mouth. 

“A favour.” Bucky repeats, exhaling smoke from his nose. Sam leans back in his seat, legs spread so widely that his knee touches yours. You shrink back as far as possible. “I’m no copper. I don’t care what you practitioners get up to.”

You find yourself blinking in surprise once more. Magic was a subject that divided many, mostly due to it’s misunderstood nature. High society treated magic as another lavish hobby or skill, with some even going to private schools to turn their gifts into professions with the right licences. Of course, the people of the lower-class were banned from performing such tricks unless they were in possession of the right permits. Due to the nature of the slums being, well, impoverished, unlicensed magic ran rampant through the streets. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that an entire blackmarket of forbidden arts ran in the backalleys and warehouses of The Warren. Places where those needing particular services could find them for a much more convenient price than in the higherclass areas of Blackstone. 

You had kept your services rather secretive, never using your real identity with clients. It was a precaution to not have coppers knocking down your door in the middle of the night. It seemed, despite your best efforts, that nothing flew past Bucky Barnes. But then again, nothing seemed to fly past the gangster. He knew of every black market and every whisper of illegal activity in the slums. It would be foolish to believe he was unaware of you; however, why did he specifically sort you out? Now that was a mystery. 

“I don’t understand—” You choke out, head whipping back and forth as you look between the men. 

Bucky sighs loudly in annoyance, loud enough that you flinch back. He puts out the remains of his cigarette on your dining table, the smouldering dip leaving a black, circular mark on the wood. He digs into one of the pockets of his vest, revealing a large pendant necklace. The chain is silver, with an oval shaped jewel hanging from the centre. The silver that encrusts it in place is swirled, ensuring there are no gaps for it to escape. Sam and Steve fall quiet, any feeling of twisted amusement dropping from the room. Bucky slides the necklace across the table.

You recoil. This time not out of fear, but rather from the aura the necklace exudes. 

Goosebumps rise across your skin, and bile rises in your throat. There was a wickedness in the air, as if all the light and sweetness in the world were sucked into an empty, yawning void. The world feels still, as if even the ash outside has failed to fall. The room is cast into a sickening silence, a silence so strong that even the surrounding world refuses to push through. You can no longer hear the people walking through the winding streets of The Warren, not the clang of metal from the smokestacks or the cry of the dockworkers. 

Rot. 

It is the only word that comes to your mind. It is as if the jewel itself is rotten, potent, and putrid. An invisible smell so strong you nearly gag. Your skin crawls the longer you stare, as if you rot along with it—bugs squirming beneath your flesh, the taste of dirt in your mouth.  

“What’s this?” You asked, your voice strained. You know the blood has drained from your face. Bucky looks at you with curiosity. 

“You tell me.”

You look down at the necklace. Dread rises once more, and the chill of soil settles across your shoulders. You twist your head and your neck, feeling uncomfortable and strained the longer you gaze upon the necklace. 

There was something terribly, terribly wrong about it. 

“There’s a… a sickness… a rot—a curse.” You stumble over your words, your entire body squirming against your will. The feeling of dread swims through you; the sensation that you need to get as far away as possible reverberates down your spine. 

“Becca was right.” Steve sings somewhere besides you, but you barely register his words. 

“Where’d you find this?” You ask. The room is tighter than usual, with the rickety, peeling cabinets closing in around you. The oven screeches on its iron legs, the yellowed wallpaper crushing closer and closer. Your head falls into your hands, elbows propped onto the table. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to rid yourself of the sickly feeling. You rub your fingers up your face, pinching the bridge of your nose, then massaging your forehead

“It was given to me. As a gift.” As he speaks, you reluctantly open your eyes once more. The room has returned to as you remember, your vision less dizzying as you take in a deep gulp of air, your heart thundering in your ears. You must make a face, because it prompts him to speak once more. 

“My sister has a sensitivity. She is convinced—”

“There’s a spirit attached to that jewel.” You interrupt before thinking. Your knees bounce beneath the table, your feet shaking. Your entire being screams that you need to get away from the object. You do not care for politeness or fear of these men, as the horror in your heart you felt gazing upon the necklace greatly outweighed any potential anxieties of the future.

“Yes.” His voice matches his composure—cool and collected. Wholly unaffected by the horrific aura cast by the necklace. Bucky and his men were not magically inclined. They were completely oblivious to the calamity that sat before them. 

“The spirits're attached to you, too.” You pause, the feeling of bile rising in your throat once more. “You need to get it lifted.”

“That’s where the favour comes in, doll.”

“I don’t…?” You nearly doubled over. “Please get rid of it. I can’t—”

Barnes leans forward, slowly dragging the necklace over the wood. He slowly deposits it into his breast pocket, watching with curiosity as you sag in relief. You would need to burn this table after they left. You could still sense the rot engrained in the pores of the wood. 

“I need to speak with the spirit attached.”

Your forearms lay flat on the table, and you rest your head against them as you try to remember how to breathe. A wave of exhaustion rolls over you. Was this how they tortured their victims? Wore them down into pathetic, panting messes? Were you about to become another body at the bottom of the Sootstone port? You mumble into the fabric. “I can’t raise a spirit without a name.”

“I know her name.”

You pause, lifting your head slowly. “You want to ask her how to break it? You may know her, but spirits’re tricksters they won’t always give ya the correct information—”

“I know how to deal with her.”

You arch a brow, unsure.

“She’s a scorned lover.” Sam whispers beside you. You jump, having forgotten the two other men sitting besides you. Bucky scowls at his words—the most emotion he has shown in the entire time. 

“Everyone knows you don’t ‘ave a witch for a moll unless you’re gonna marry her.” Steve butts in, and the two men share a chuckle. 

“Shut your mugs. The both of ya.” Bucky snarls, and they both fall silent, although you can’t help but notice their bemused smiles. After a brief, tense silence, the gangster settles back into his seat, tipping his chin upward in a nod. “Morwenna Blackthorn.”

You hesitate, glancing between the three men. They watch you expectantly, relaxing back into their respective seats. Given their status and reputation, you had to presume they were familiar with the workings of underground magic. Licenced practitioners would have clients sign lengthy documents for protection in the event of a spell or session backfiring. The Warrens did not have such luxuries—if you made a mistake, no one could protect you or them from the consequences. 

You inhale sharply, placing your hands palms down on the table. The wood hums beneath your touch, the invisible vapours of the curse tickling your flesh. With a roll of your shoulders, you exhale slowly, allowing your body to relax. 

Ink drips across your vision, swirling darkness millimetres before your eyes. You stare hard into the invisible void, searching blindly through the tendrils of smoke. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your mind hums. Through the dark fog, you can make out figures—flickers of candle flames casting large, distorted shadows. Morwenna Blackthorn. Bones crunch beneath your feet, yet at the same time, you float. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your hands burn into the table, the rotting sensation tangling through your digits, pulling you deeper. 

Morwenna Blackthorn

You can see a thin line of thread hanging through the void. 

Morwenna Blackthorn.

It is red; a series of knots tugged tightly intermittently. 

Morwenna Blackthorn.

Your fingers grasp the fibres gently, your nail hooking around one of the tiny knots. 

You tug.

Morwenna Blackthorn.

A violent, ragged gasp leaves you. It claws up your throat, ripping at the flesh. Your entire body tenses, your spine straightening as your head snaps back. For a moment, you are suspended. You can feel her with you, her ghostly fingers stroking tenderly across your skin. She smooths over the back of your hands, slowly and gradually winding her way up your arms. She clutches your shoulders, her bones digging into your flesh.

Then, with violence strong enough that you fear she has folded your spine in half, she pushes down. 

Your body instantly relaxes, head lulling downward. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and despite the appearance being a milky white, you can see perfectly clearly. Morwenna has settled herself deep within your bones, controlling your movements like a puppeteer. You are conscious enough to understand what is happening, but you are not in control of your actions or speech.

Your mouth spread into a wide, sly smile. “Bucky, my love.”

“Mor.” The gangster greets, although he does not seem entirely pleased. You pout, leaning your elbows onto the table. 

“Not happy to see me?” You coo. Somewhere beside you, Steve shifts in his seat uncomfortably. It is the most off put you’ve ever seen the man so far. He winces as your head swings around, a wicked grin gracing your lips. “Oh, Stevie and Sam. Didn’t see you two here.”

“Mor.” The two men grumble in unison, scowling. 

“Awh. Why so glum, boys?” You whine, your chair scraping against the floor as you stand. Your movements are fluid and graceful, entirely not your own. Your hands stroke across the back of the chair, then swooshes up to meet your chest. 

You lean forward, tutting as you inspect your reflection in the glass of a nearby cupboard. “Trust you to find a pretty one in The Warrens.” 

Your hands move to unpin your mantle, a cloud of ash lingering in the air as you drop it to the floor. You sigh in relief, your fingers unbuttoning the top of your shirt, revealing the curve of your breasts. Your hands smooth down your waist to your hips; your full figure is now displayed. 

“You missed me that much, my love? That you had to find a pretty vessel for me so you could get your cock wet, hm?” You hum, sashying towards the table once more. 

“That’s not why you’re here.” Bucky replies. He seems frozen in place. The horror of familiarity. Recognising the mannerisms of someone he once knew in a complete stranger. 

You ignore his words, unpinning your hair. Thick locks unroll, cascading down your shoulders and back. You let out an exaggerated, satisfied sigh, rolling your neck. The strands frame your face, and the rich colour brings colour to your cheeks. 

“Morwenna.” Bucky snaps. Your brows furrow as you look over to him, pouting once more. “You put a curse. On the necklace.”

Your mind momentarily blanks, as if Morwenna were trying to recall what he said. Spirits often grew confused trying to recall memories, especially ones that brought them anguish. A cog seems to turn as you flash the gangster another beaming smile. 

“The necklace… oh. Did you like it? My parting gift to you? Before you fucked me over you piece of—” Your voice, once sweet and soft, deepens to a guttural growl. Your body shakes, and words cut off as you cough and hack. Your hand raises to your mouth, warm fluid leaking from your lips. You let in a shuddering breath, rubbing your fingers and palms down your chin. Blood smears across your skin. 

“You shot me, my love.” You gasp, your brows furrowing as your head tilts. “You shot me.”

“You betrayed us, remember? You were a rat—” Steve jumps in, but is quickly cut off. 

“Steve.” Bucky warns.

Your hands find your stomach, doubling over as you sob. There is no wound, no blood. Still, your hands dig at the fabric while ragged, pathetic cries leave your blood stained lips. 

“How do I break the curse?”

You shuddering sobs stop, a dreadful silence falling over the tiny kitchen. A guttural laugh erupts from you, saliva mixed with blood dripping from your lips to the floor. “The curse. The curse? I should have known… I should have known…”

Your body jerks upward, movements stiff, and jerks like a marionette doll. Sam’s face contorts into one of fear, while Steve looks horrified. You jerk forward, nearly tripping over the chair as you plunge towards the table. Your stomach smacks hard against the wood, a winded wheeze escaping your lungs as you drag yourself forward by your nails. 

“Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me?” You cry, your head beginning to twist, the angle so unnatural that it strains your neck. 

“How do I break it?” Bucky repeats, voice firm. He hasn’t so much as flinched, a wall of steel as you crawl towards him. 

“It was born in chaos, so it must be undone in chaos. I will find you. I will tear you limb from limb. I will make you rot from the inside out; maggots will grow within you; and mould will bloom in your soul. Everything will crumble to dust beneath your touch. I will ruin you until you b–b—be—”

Your body slides back, and for the first time in the entire session, you grab the reins. You search blindly for the knotted thread, tugging hard. Your body steps back from the table, muscles spasming and tense as your body locks in place. 

You tug harder, and darkness swims across your vision. Candles flicker and dance in the distance, the sun rising and falling as your body twists up and down. The smell of rot slowly subsides, threads slipping from your fingers. The scent of copper and ash is on your tongue, and your head is pounding. 

A dramatic sigh leaves you as your body slumps. You find yourself standing before the table, three sets of eyes burning into you as your own eyes roll back into place. Sam and Steve look equally disturbed as they are horrified, the blond’s mouth agape in shock. 

“The fuck was that?” Sam barks.

“I ain’t never seen a spirit session like that before, Buck—” Steve begins.

“Shut it.” Bucky barks, rising to his feet. 

There is a sickly feeling in your chest, a radiating pain across your ribcage. You barely register the gangster walking up to you, gripping your chin between his index and thumb. 

“You pulled yourself out early.” Bucky sneers. “Why?”

“Buck—” Steve calls again. With a growl, Bucky releases you, twisting around to snarl at Steve. 

“I thought you told me she was the best in the Warrens?”

“She is. Did’ya not see that shit?”

“She didn’t get me an answer—”

“Chaos magic.” You finally speak up, your voice raspy. The gangsters pause, slowly turning to face you. “She told you. It’s chaos magic. What’s born in chaos must be undone in chaos.”

Your hand raises to your face, your fingertips touching your upperlip as warm blood flows from your nose. You raise your hand into the light, inspecting the crimson liquid. Your eyes cut over to Bucky's, and he frowns. 

“Chaos magic?” He questions. 

“Sex magic.” You state, fighting the heat growing across your cheeks. Without much of a care or a flinch, you navigate your way past the group. Your shirt brushes against Bucky’s jacket, the rotting feeling momentarily settling in your stomach as the fabric brushes his breastpocket. You pause in front of your sink, knuckles white as you grip the lip. Blood continues to stream steadily from your nose, dripping into the basin. 

“You focus your thoughts on one thing; you get pulled into a trance. Take the energy, the chaos, and you focus it. At the peak, picture what you’re manifestin’. The chaos that you’ve built through the act is released at the moment of orgasm.” You explain, your gaze solidly locked onto the blood that swirls down your drain. 

“Sex magic.” Bucky hums in thought.

Steve spoke up from beside him with a snicker. “How poetic.”

—

You hated how your hands shook. If Bucky had noticed, he hadn’t brought it up. He was coolly inspecting your tiny bedroom, hands tucked into his pockets. The room had an eclectic taste, with walls covered in shelving. You collected books, objects, trinkets, or other things that helped your work. Drying herbs hung from your curtain railings, your desk cluttered with papers you had hastily scribbled notes upon. 

You ground your palm harder into the pestle, gritting your teeth as you worked the herbs inside into a fine paste. Your bed, stripped bare, had been pushed to the side of the room. It usually sat near the centre, atop a fraying rug. The rug had also been removed, rolled up, and placed somewhere in your stairway. The old wood beneath had been painted by your hand, with intricate runes, symbols, and swirls making up the general shape of a circle. You had already lined it with black salt, candles burning at each cardinal direction. At the centre of the circle, you had laid your bedding and pillows for comfort. 

Bucky had sent Steve and Sam away, the two men snickering like a pair of school boys. You all knew what was about to unfold; it was just a question of why you had allowed yourself to become tangled up in such a situation. You had done similar rituals for clients before, yes, but none of those clients had been the boss of the Smog Boys. None of them had been Bucky Barnes. 

You eyed him as he paused in front of the carved circle, mindlessly playing with the jewelled necklace that hung from his grip. The awful, dreadful, rotting sensation was dulled; you’d nearly begged the gangster to let you cleanse the object. It was a temporary relief that would wear down in a few hours, but at least you could complete your work without gagging at the feeling of it. You hurriedly poured the thick paste from the herbs into a pot, which boiled in your fireplace. It only took a couple of stirs for the potion to settle. You could feel Bucky’s eyes assessing your every movement as you poured the steaming liquid into two cups, briefly swirling each to ensure the consistency was correct. 

“Remind me what this is.” The gangster asked, closing the distance between you. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the scent. 

“A potion to help with the ritual. Some find it…hard to perform.” You say, wincing as you realise what you implied. Bucky raises a brow as you fumble over your words. “It heightens arousal and pleasure.”

“I won’t find it hard to perform.” He replies curtly. 

“I know. I wasn’t saying that—I just… from experience…” You stumble again. If only you could punch yourself in the face for this idiocy. 

“Relax, doll.” He hums, his hand finding your shoulder. You exhale sharply, lips pressed together, as your shoulders drop in response. “I can find someone else if you don’t want this.”

As much as you hated yourself for admitting it, you did want this. Maybe it was a sick curiosity, wondering if this dangerous yet handsome man could perform as well as you imagined, as well as it was rumoured. You swallow, your mouth feeling dry. “No. I want this.”

“Good.” His hand brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, and his head dips to look at you better. “Honestly, I could fuck you with or without the potion, doll.”

There is a knowing smirk spreading across his face as your mind blanks. Fucking rake. You consider if the fumes from the potion have already leaked their effects onto you both. You can feel a warmth growing between your legs. 

“It’s my job.” You mutter, stepping away. Although you’re unsure if the reassurance is for yourself or for him. His chuckle follows you as you sweep across the room, returning to your small desk. “Do you want me to explain the ritual in detail or just give you the gist of it?”

“Spare the details; just run me through what I need to do.” He responds. He has closed the distance between the both of you again, peering over your shoulder as you fumble through your things. 

“Well, it’s pretty simple.” You sigh, turning around. Your chests are nearly pressed together as you spin. You back up as far as possible, your hands moving behind your back as you grip the edge of the desk to steady yourself. "We’ll have to draw some blood with a blade and put it on the necklace to link it to our energies. It’s sigil magic, nothing you’ll have to worry about. We take the potions…”

You fade off with a shrug. Bucky smirks once more, his chin lifting in amusement, but his gaze remains solidly locked onto you. His hands go to his pockets, and his wide chest blocks your movements. You clear your throat. “The ending is more what you’ll need to focus on. When you reach… climax… you must focus all your energy on the necklace and nothing else. I will be there to guide and remind you, but you can’t let your thoughts stray.”

“What about you? What will you have to think of?” He questions, his voice low. His adams apple bobs as he swallows slowly, his tongue running across his bottom lip in thought. Intriguing question. No one had asked you that before. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the only one who needs to orgasm.”

“Why?”

“The curse is linked to you. Only you can break it, with my assistance, of course. I am just here to help guide you and lend you my energy. I am just a conduit for the magic, to focus it.” You explain. Thinking it was best to get it over and done with, you finally pluck up the courage to push past him. 

Your athame was already in place; the candles were lit, salt laid, and sigil memorised. There was only one thing left to do—the act. You crouch down by the fireplace, retrieving the two cups. Bucky gives you an incredulous look. 

“It tastes better than it smells.” You reassure him, handing him the saucer. He inspects the liquid once more, wincing, then shrugging in surprise as he finally downs the lot. You watch with a scrutinising gaze as he places the cup down, rolling his shoulders. 

The potion would take all of five seconds to take affect. It didn’t alter the brain or take away authority; rather, it heightened already present feelings of arousal or pleasure. The user would experience a rather euphoric sensation. Dodgy brothels often microdosed their clients with such herbs to heighten the experience. Also to hook in a new, loyal customer. Used sparingly, the herbs were fine, but they were highly addictive. 

And illegal. Most of your work fell into that category.

Within moments, you could see Bucky’s pupils dilate, his jaw and shoulders relaxing, and his nostrils flaring as he exhaled slowly. His voice was strained as he spoke up, his tone gravelly and low as he cleared his throat in surprise. “Fuck. That does feel good, doesn’t it?”

You smile shyly into your own cup and swallow down the liquid. You were familiar with the taste and it’s effects. It was surprisingly sweet, with a vanilla, nutty aftertaste. As soon as it hit your stomach, you could already feel the warmth growing in your core—a delightful tingling sensation spreading up your spine and skull. 

You were quick to place your cup down and cross the room to retrieve the athame. You had to pin point your actions very directly so as not to get distracted by the hulking man looming in your room. The potion was definitely potent, because any fear or anxiety had left you. Your body begged for him to come closer, to touch you, to kiss you. Not yet. Soon. 

“Come here.” You murmur, drawing the blade from it’s sheath. Bucky obeys, wordlessly stalking towards you and presenting you with his palm. You look up at him through your lashes, gently taking his hand into yours. Your skin sings at the content, a rush of goosebumps raising across your skin. “We don’t need much blood.”

The gangster is still as you drag the blade in a short cut along the heel of his palm. You push into the mound, coaxing out droplets of blood to blister to the surface. “The necklace.”

He lets out a low, agreeable grunt as he hands it to you. The potion has helped you ignore any bad energy attached to the object. Your skin simmers as you brush your finger tips along the cut, gathering Bucky’s blood. You take the jewel, smearing the blood across the slippery surface into one half of a symbol. Bucky watches expectantly as you hastily repeat the process with your own hand, smearing your blood to complete the symbol. 

“You need to wear it.” You hum and guide the chain over his head. You know you should find a bandage or some kind of healing salve for your hands, but your attention is pulled away as Bucky grasps your hand. An involuntary whimper leaves your throat as he raises your palm to his lips, his tongue peaking out as he runs it across the open wound. The potion had definitely taken effect. Holy fuck, your back arches as pleasure shoots down your arm, blooming at the base of your skull. 

His lips kiss along the cut, sucking and licking. Your mind swims from the sensation—ideas of where else he could be putting his mouth to use. You pull your palm away, dragging it across his cheek as you cup his face. A crimson streak is smeared along his skin, and his lips are glossy from saliva and stained with your blood. The two of you clash in desperation, a rumbling groan being pulled from the gangster as his lips engulf yours. 

You can taste copper on his tongue, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you flush against his body. The two of you move in a frantic rhythm, scarcely making room to breathe. You guide him clumsily to the painted circle, the two of you falling to your knees in unison. Blindly, you find his clothing, helping him tug off the jacket and then unbutton his vest. 

His hands slip under your blouse, caressing the skin beneath. His fingers roam to your brassiere, your nipples hardening as he brushes them through the sleek fabric. You mewl into his mouth, squirming under his touch as the pulse between your legs quickens. His large palm comes to rest below your breasts, his thumb sitting on your sternum as he yanks you backwards onto his lap. 

Your lips break, and you gasp for air as the gangster continues his assault down your neck to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His stubble tickles across your neck, and he gathers your skirts, fingers gliding past your stockings to your exposed inner thigh. 

Your head tips backwards to rest on his shoulder, and loud, satisfied sighs leave you. The sensation is near blinding, your body alight with pleasure. Had you accidentally made a stronger dose in your nervousness? You had never yearned in such a way before—

“What’re you doing?” You query with a gasp as his fingers slip beneath your loose tap pants. 

Your question is answered as he strokes a fingertip through your wet folds. 

“You’re so wet.” He hums against your skin, voice strained. You can already feel his erection pressing into you. His grip on you remains firm, your back flush against his chest as he dips two of his fingers into you. Ecstasy fizzles across your skin, nails digging into his skin where you grip his arm. 

“What’re you— I’m supposed to make you—ah!” You whine, your breath coming fast as you lean harder into him. Your hips rock greedily, pushing your pelvis in time with his pumping fingers so the heel of his palm grinds against your clit. 

“Shh, doll. Relax.” He whispers, his tongue licking up the shell of your ear. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your body is locked in place by his grip. His pace increases, and the panting in your ear grows as his two digits glide in and out of your tight cunt. 

“Do you like that?” He groans in your ear. Your grinding hips are now giving friction to his cock, which twitches against your backside through his pants. You whimper in response, a short sob bubbling from your mouth as you clench around him. 

Your head lifts, eyes widening as you look down. You can’t see much due to your skirts, but you can feel the knot tightening within your belly. Your hips move more desperately, needy, pathetic moans escaping you as his pace remains steady. 

“Please—” You beg, squirming as the gangster chuckles. 

“You do like this, huh? Even if you acted like a little innocent virgin earlier.” He growls. The vibration is enough to set you over the edge, a loud cry leaving you as you clench hard around his fingers, body spasming. Bucky continues to steadily pump you through your orgasm. “Good girl.”

A continued arousal stirs in your belly at his praise. Your body slumps against him, panting and exhausted. 

“Such a good girl.” He hums again, his digits slipping out of you. You can feel the sloppy mess between your thighs, and as Bucky pulls his hand into the light, you can see the wet drenching his fingers. “I think I like this version of you. The one who makes pretty little noises while I fuck her brains out, hm?”

You’re left speechless as the gangster lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk. 

“Well, time to get this ritual over with then, don’t you think?” He says. You’re too exhausted and drunk on desire to bother replying. You allow him to guide you down, so your head is placed side-ways on one of the pillows. He guides your hips up, your legs slightly spread, and pushes your skirts to your hips. 

“You’ll have to tell me when you’re close, so I can guide you.” You finally muster up the strength to say. The gangster pulls your tap pants down, exposing your cunt fully. 

“Sure thing, doll.” He says in response. You hear the sound of fabric rustling as he pulls out his cock. 

Without much warning, he pushes into you, your arousal making it easy for his member to slide in and out of you. A growl burns in the back of his throat while you wordlessly make a fist around the sheets and blankets beneath you. 

“Fuck. You’re so tight.” Bucky groans, his voice strained. “And to think you’ve been hidin’ out in The Warrens all this time.”

He sinks deeper into you, pulling small whimpers and moans from you as he finds a steady, pleasurable rhythm. His hand slides up your clothed back, pushing you harder into the pillow with a grunt. His other hand finds your hips, his grip bruising as he guides you. 

You bite down into the pillow, your pleasured sobs muffled by the feathers. 

“You squeezed so tightly around my fingers; I can’t wait to see how you’ll feel when you come around my cock.” Bucky grunted as he ploughed into you. His hand fists around your loose hair, fingers tangling through the locks as he tugs. Tears are beginning to prickle in your eyes, and your legs are wobbling from the sensation. 

“Please—” you gasp out. 

“Please, what?” The gangster asks, tugging harder. The hand on your hip is squeezing tighter as he holds you in place. 

“Please—I need to—”

“No.” He growls, tugging you upward. You fall backwards into his lap once more, his cock still inside you but somehow deeper from the angle he holds you. “You need to finish the ritual, remember? I can’t have you guide me if you’re too fucked out to talk.”

Another sob leaves you, but you wordlessly nod. You hold onto the burning sensation in your gut, the waves of satisfaction so immense that your limbs tremble. Bucky continues to fuck up into you, his cock steadily driving into you as his free hand comes to lazily swirl your swollen clit. 

You try to remember words, instructions, anything. You feel too high to even breathe. All you can do is focus on the sensation of the necklace rubbing against your back and the friction burning against your skin. 

“Focus on the necklace. How it feels around your neck.” You squeak out, your eyes squeezed shut, as you try to ground yourself. “Focus on the feeling of the chain, the weight of the jewel. Think of your blood, how a piece of you is painted onto it.”

There is a moment of silence between the two of you, only the slapping of skin and the rasping of breath. 

“Are you focused on it?” You ask.

“Yes.” The gangster cuts back. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy. 

“Focus.” You whisper, though a breathy moan leaves you. “Feel your energy flow; feel your blood seep into the stone. Picture how it will shatter beneath your power.”

His hips jerk beneath you, his finger on your clit swirling faster. Your breath comes in sharp stutters, your back arching as you find no way to escape the rising sensation. His back is rock solid behind you, his hands keeping you in place as you begin to spiral. Your pussy tightens around him as you begin to scream—

“Please, Bucky. Please!”

Something snaps between the both of you, his hips jerking wildly as he spills into you. He moans into your ear at a deafening level, his fingers digging into your thighs. You double over in pleasure, your vision briefly going black as you cry out. Sparks dance across your skin, your body momentarily alight as the power of magic flows through you. You can feel the rush as your energy meets Bucky’s entangling with one another in a fierce battle. For a second, you feel intoxicated, colours bursting across your sight as the rush of magic rests in your chest, and then, just as quickly as it arrived, it cascades out of you.

Behind you, the sound of shattering can be heard above the moans.  

Panting, Bucky releases you. You slump to the floor, off his lap. His cum drips from your pussy, thighs wet as sticky as you close your eyes, desperately trying to catch your breath. You roll onto your back, pressing your thighs together. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you look down at Bucky. He sits kneeling, dishevelled. His hair is ruffled, blood is still smeared along his cheek, and his shirt is untucked and creased. 

At some point, he has tucked his cock away, suspenders hanging loosely by his hips. His gaze is not on you; rather, it is solely focused on the necklace in his palm. You go to lift your head, but you find yourself too weak and exhausted to bother. A mixture of being too fucked out to care and the lack of energy from acting as a conduit for the ritual. 

“Did it work?” You ask the gangster, and his eyes finally pull up to look at you. His gaze wanders over your face, examining your swollen lips, the blush across your cheeks, and the areas where exposed skin remains. He cracks a grin, lifting his hand. The necklace dangles from his fingers, the large, blue jewel now gifted with a large crack down the centre. 

You let out a sigh of relief, letting your head fall back as you stared up at the ceiling. Your eyes flicker closed, a sleepy warmth prickling across your scalp. 

“Doll?”

Your eyes snap open with a jolt. 

“It’s all done? The curse is gone?” The gangster questions. You weakly nod in reply.

“Her spirit and whatever curse she held have been released.” You affirm, voice sleepy, relaxing back into the pillows and blankets. “Apologies. This type of spell drains me.”

Bucky chuckles. You were just glad you had enough sense near the end to actually guide him. The gangster appeared to be attempting to prove something with the orgasms he extracted from you. In the state you were in, you had little reason to complain. 

When you opened your eyes again, he was across the room, vest on and jacket slung over his arm.

“I’ll leave your payment downstairs.” He says, only pausing to look down at you, still curled up on the floor. You blink up at him sleepily. “Thanks for your help, spirit-raiser.”

You can’t find the energy to correct him.

[hey-august]

ANGRY BUGGY I’m screaming I’m giggling I’m kicking my feet.

Being a crew member never really made sense for you, I mean there’s no reason you can think of why he would want you to join his crew. You’re not very talented like the others and you really only ever clean, but you guess that’s reason enough if they just needed a maid, and you’re more than happy having somewhere to sleep at night.

You don’t notice the longing longs and stolen glances, too busy trying to earn your keep on a ship your thankful to have been given a home on. Paying no mind to “accidental” touches or brushing up against you, after all it can get pretty crowded and you’re all working in close quarters. Nothing seems off when you catch him watching you clean, he’s in charge and must be making sure you’re doing your job. You have no reason to think the Captain even knows your name, let alone thinks about you late at night.

Only that changes when he comes back to the ship, drunk and angry after a failed outing. He sees you dusting? He thinks? Not really sure he doesn’t pay much attention to the actual work your doing, but he does see /you/. You give him a half hearted smile to try and avoid confrontation with your clearly upset Captain. Only for him to knock whatever your doing out of your hands and pin your back to the wall. You look surprised and he’s not sure if your fucking with him or just oblivious, you /must/ have noticed how much better he treats you than the other crew, right? That you have to have seen the way he watches you work and how his eyes drift across your body? The only thing Captain Buggy is sure of is that he need to make sure you know, tonight.

Anooooonnnnnn, I'm SO SORRY I kept this for so long.

It's just so wonderful and I wanted to add to it. Time and motivation were working against me, but HERE WE ARE. Finally spending time with our angry clown. 🩷

This was unplanned and got out of hand, like usual.

WC: ~800 Warnings: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, mentions of drinking, insertion sex, angry sex, sorta dubcon (in my head, they both want this), profanity

Nothing - nothing - is going right and it's infuriating. Fucking frustrating. Yeah, he can be a piece of shit, a freak, a loser, but this is fucking ridiculous.

Months of planning and Buggy had nothing to show for it. Sleepless nights spent studying maps, gathering intel, spreading rumors - all for shit and empty hands.

And the moment he lays eyes on you, the anger surges through the liquor burning his insides. Months of planning on how to get closer to you, to get you under him, also resulted in fucking nothing.

You don't notice the way Buggy stares at you like a hungry wolf. You apologize for being in the way when he purposefully brushes his hand against your ass. You didn't question it when you were scheduled to clean his room. You didn't even bat a fucking eye when you walked in the first day and he was laying in bed. Sure he had underwear on, but seriously? You couldn't tell he was coming on to you?

And it's happening again. You're cleaning. Dusting the shit on his shelves. You manage to squeak out some bullshit apology when Buggy slams the door open. Just a little more and then you'd be out of his way.

But that's not where Buggy wants you.

Buggy keeps his eyes open when he kisses you. He wants to see you. The shocked expression on your face is both rewarding and aggravating.

"You have no fucking idea what you do to me, do you," Buggy spits out.

"I don't- what-"

Your words are cut off by an aggressive kiss. Rough and overwhelming. His tongue invading your mouth, his teeth nipping your lips, bruising you.

Breaking the kiss, Buggy presses his forehead against yours. Heavy breaths fill the room. He's finally touching you. He finally has you in his hands. Your taste in his mouth. He should be happy. But no, this success doesn't clear the irritation running through his veins.

"Pull down your pants and turn around."

Buggy waits, wanting to see if you'd listen. And if you didn't, if you left... well whatever. Fuck you, then. And fuck him, ending up with nothing again.

There's barely enough time for his deprecating thoughts to depart before you undress just enough for him to see how aroused you are.

You want this as badly as he does. So why did you make him wait this long?

Rough hands spin your around. "Keep still," Buggy demands while he works to free his aching cock with one hand.

He hisses when bobs and rests against your ass. Your perfect ass. Fuck, he ruts against you, rubbing his erection on you like he's dreamed so many times before.

"Please," you whimper, legs shaking with each tantalizing movement.

The audacity. The fucking audacity you have.

"Please? Please? You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this and you want me to hurry?"

You shake your head but any words that you might say are chased away by pleasure and pain. By Buggy shoving himself in your needy body and his teeth digging into your shoulder. He bites harder and groans as your body clenches and squeezes around him.

His hips are pressed tightly against you and he starts thrusting, hardly pulling out while continuing to bully his way deeper.

Your gasps and moans are a reward. Your white-knuckle grip on the shelves is encouragement. Your body accepting his brutal thrusts is heaven. But Buggy wants more. He deserves more.

A hand in your hair yanks your head back, turning you into a fountain spilling filthy sounds.

Not enough.

His fingers find their way in your mouth and down your throat. You choke and sputter around the intrusion but make no move to pull away. Each gag has your body clenching around him harder. 

A touch on Buggy’s wrist guides his other hand down between your legs. He’s sure you’d say “please” again in that adorably pitiful voice if you weren’t letting him fingerfuck your mouth.

“You fucking- fuck,” Buggy huffs, his hand moving frantically to bring you over the edge before he falls over himself. “You like this, don’t you?”

The high-pitched whine that you manage to push out around his fingers is Buggy’s undoing.

“You better fucking come on me now,” Buggy hisses while his thrusts become erratic and his hands start to shake.

Your legs shake when you catch up, your orgasm ripping through your body. His cock pulses and throbs as he fucks through your orgasms, drops of cum escaping every time he pulls back.

Eventually, heavy breaths fill the room again. The air is hot. It smells of sex, sweat, and alcohol.

“Do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence.

The soft tone in your voice is too much. The little flicker of anger in Buggy’s body is gone. He rests his head on your shoulder in defeat and nods. He does feel better. 

“Will you stay?” he asks quietly, lips pressed against your damp skin. He wraps his arms around your torso and holds you tightly, not ready to end this moment.

You nod and the next morning finds you both asleep in bed, utterly worn out and completely content.

[oddballwriter]

The Sweetest Thing

Summary: Your hobby of baking causes an issue for the boys. Not because of anything with you, it's a matter of control with themselves.

Warnings: Nothing really.

Author’s Snip: I bake as a hobby and while making brownies earlier I thought this up.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 816

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (you can join the taglist, just ask)

It was a problem. Not for you. You were just acting out your hobby of baking and there was nothing wrong with that at all. The problem was with the boys and the fact that they couldn’t resist eating whatever you baked. Whether it be brownies, cookies, cupcakes, bonbons, pies, anything.

You wouldn’t call yourself a top baker, but the boys always sang your praises and wanted the first taste every time. But you seem to always have something freshly baked and fresh out the oven.

Steven was the least likely to tell you no when you offered him a piece of what you’ve made, always having the subconscious intuition to start baking so that when it was all ready it could be pair with his tea. And it would be nice to have something with his tea. And you always go through the trouble of using a vegan recipe.

“Oh, I really shouldn’t.” Steven says to himself as you offer him a few cookies you just finished, “I can’t be eating so much sugar all the time.” he warns himself. “Just one won’t hurt.” Steven excuses.

But one turns into two, and then an extra third that he didn't realize he was eating until he was just about done with it.

"So much for 'just one'." Steven scolds himself.

"At least I know that they were good," you remark.

"Thank you for letting me try them though, love. They were delicious. But next time I'll just grab one and leave the rest of the container alone." Steven says.

It's worse when Marc just got done working out. Gained some muscle, shed a good amount of calories. But then he walks in and the flat smells like a damn bakery. Out of all of the days and times that you could have baked, you chose the day that Marc goes to the gym and the time he comes home. And you're there smiling at him.

"What's for dessert this time?" Marc asks as he walks over to you and kisses you on the cheek. "You giggle, "Cinnamon rolls, I found an easy-to-follow recipe a few days ago and wanted to give it a try." you explain.

Marc sighs, "Why do you always have to make something to make me regain all the calories I just lost?" he questions. "You don't have to eat them today if you don't want to." you say, "Plus, they aren't done yet. They need to be done baking and I need to make the frosting." you add.

"You can have one once they're complete and cooled down." you offer him. "That's the issue. If you're the one who made them then I'll get up eating more than one." Marc explains.

"Sometimes having a little bit of a little snack pouch is okay as long as you're healthy." you half-joke.

Jake hardly does anything about it though. He couldn't care less if he gained a pound or two if it meant getting to enjoy your baking. Matter of fact he's right there when you bake. Arms wrapped around your body while you measure and mix, but he hardly really helps in your opinion.

"Are you just going to hold me the whole time or are you going to do something?" you question playfully. "I help by licking the spoons and bowls." Jake replies.

You huff in amusement before picking up the teaspoon that you used a second ago, "Then do me a favor and 'clean' this for me." you request as you hand it to him. Jake takes it and gives it one lick before trying to spit in an immediate reaction. "What the hell was that?" Jake exclaims. "I used that for the vanilla extract." you say simply.

"That was mean." Jake says with a fake pout. "You saw me use it a second ago, I don't know how you fell for that." you laugh.

"I just like watching you work, I don't pay attention to what exactly you're putting in. You could poison it right in front of me and I probably won't catch it at first." Jake says before he slightly changes the subject.

"Speaking of watching you bake. I would love to help you open up a little bakery and have a little section where I can watch you make everything." Jake mentions as he holds you closer and kisses your neck. "I don't think I'm that much of a baker that I could have a business." you comment.

"I'd disagree. I think once someone gets a taste of what you make then they'd be flocking for a single piece." Jake says.

"Jake I use recipes I find online and then write down if I like them." you mention.

"Well then maybe it's time that you experiment with making your own." Jake fires back, "I can taste test for you while you try to nail it." he suggests.

[qveerthe0ry]

Naked in Manhattan

Summary: Marcus has never slept with a man, Dieter's willing to remedy that - written for @romanarose Pride Event Week 3: Sex/kissing Word Count: 7,730 Pairing: (college aged) Marcus Pike x Dieter Bravo Rating: 18+ mdni Warnings: coming out, discussions of sexuality, brief mentions of homophobia, oral sex(m), (lots of) hickeys, frottage, cum eating, armpit stuff Betas: OBVIOUSLY @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar the loves of my life 💖A/N: I highly suggest listening to Naked in Manhattan by Chappell Roan before/while reading this. Totally got the vibes of this entire fic by listening to it on a walk one day

Dieter’s learned a lot in his five and a half years of college. Not really much about statistics or geology, but about people. He’s been around long enough to know that the sad little guy on his front porch steps, avoiding the party, and chain smoking cigarettes is having a rough go of it. 

“Hey buddy,” Dieter says, quietly, as not to startle the slumped figure. 

Marcus looks up at him through misty eyes and a cloud of stale Winston smoke.

“Hey.”

He’s not crying, but he’s definitely crying for help.

“You okay?” 

Dieter takes a seat on the step below him.

“Yeah, fine. Just needed air.”

Marcus gestures with the cigarette in his hand, then huffs out a laugh at the irony. 

“You’ve been getting drunk a lot lately.”

Maybe Dieter shouldn’t pry. It’s not unusual for his rented house to be filled with students coming and going at all hours of the day, between classes on weekdays or all day on the weekends. The cheap beer just shows up, as does the weed, and he doesn’t usually question it. 

But he’s closer to Marcus. So he notices more. He usually only sees him here on weekends. During the week he’s commonly found in the library or the student union, books sprawled out in front of him. He’s driven, pre-law, and has a better head on his shoulders than most people he hangs with. 

But Marcus has been at his place every night this week, either stumbling home in the wee hours of the morning or sleeping late on his couch or floor. It concerns Dieter in a way that surprises him. 

Usually it’s none of his business. 

“I haven’t had a sip,” Marcus tells him. 

And his voice doesn’t have that sharp, defensive tone Dieter was expecting. It’s more defeated than anything. 

“Yeah but what about last night?” 

Marcus shrugs. 

“And the night before? And every other night this week?”

“Just having fun,” Marcus mumbles through another drag of his cigarette. 

Dieterlooks around at his empty porch.

“Are you?” 

Then Marcus laughs. It bubbles up out of him in an almost terrifying way, and damn near immediately turns into sobs hidden behind his hands. 

“Fuck, dude, are you tripping?”

Marcus shakes his head. Dieter didn’t think so. He’s strictly an alcohol guy, won’t even touch weed. Something about the FBI and polygraph tests. Dieter finds it charming if not a bit manic. 

He keeps crying though, so hard he has to flick his cigarette out onto the dimly lit street so he can rub at his eyes. 

Dieter’s not sure what to do. Normally he’d offer someone drugs, but that won’t work. 

His hand hovers over Marcus’ shaking back for a few moments before he rests a heavy palm between his shoulder blades. 

He can feel the way Marcus’ breath shudders out of him, and tells him to start taking slow breaths. When it works, Dieter’s kind of amazed at how great he is at damage control. 

“That’s it man, just breathe.” 

Marcus nods, finally removes his hands from his face. He’s always been pretty in a very preppy way, with his perfect hair and teeth and his little dimples. He looks even prettier now, as much as Dieter kicks himself for that thought. His face is red and wet and his brown eyes are wider than they’ve ever been before. 

A few deep breaths in through his nose and out his mouth later, Marcus is sufficiently calm enough to speak. 

“I’m sorry.”

Dieter waves him off. 

“Don’t be. Looks like it felt good, I might have a cry later too.”

Marcus lets out a wet chuckle and shuts his eyes as one last salty little droplet brushes past his long eyelashes. 

“Everything okay at home? You’re not failing a class, are you?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s stupid.” 

“Girl problems?” 

Marcus laughs again, and Dieter startles a little, afraid he’s going to start back up sobbing at any moment. 

He doesn’t though. He’s quiet and avoiding Dieter’s gaze as he frantically gets another cigarette from his pack and lights it up. 

Dieter thinks he’s hit the nail on the head until Marcus takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales. 

“I’m fucking gay.” 

Dieter opens his mouth in shock, or understanding, or maybe to try and say something, but Marcus continues. 

“This whole time I’ve been gay. I don’t even— I’ve had so many girlfriends. I think they’re just nice. I’ve never— I fucking hated sleeping with them. I thought it was because it was awkward, and we’re all inexperienced? It sucked, Dieter. And I thought all guys were curious about other guys, you know? They all talk about their dicks with each other, since middle school. I just thought— and then there’s this guy… in my intro to psych class. And he’s so nice and handsome and I just always want to hang out with him. And I didn’t know why. But I want to kiss him. And I never felt that way about any of my girlfriends. And now I realize I’ve just— I’ve just been gay this whole time.”

He’s out of breath when he quits talking, but he sucks down more of his cigarette anyway. Dieter isn’t quite sure what to say to him. Usually when someone comes out to him, it’s in a less… frantic manner, more proud than anything. But this poor freshman has been on a gay crisis bender all week and is more than a little traumatized by all of it, and it’s just different with Marcus. 

“That’s um… Sounds like you’ve been going through a rough time with it.” 

Marcus sniffles and nods. 

“Been through all five or whatever stages of grief already. It’s been a long week.” 

“Are you… Upset? That you’re gay?” 

Marcus’ head lolls back to thump against the porch railing. 

“No… I’m more upset that I didn't figure it out until now.” 

“You’re still plenty young, Marcus. You’re what— nineteen?”

“Eighteen. Skipped a grade.”

Jesus. Dieter feels even worse now about thinking he’s pretty when he cries. 

“See? You’re a spring chicken, dude. You figured it out plenty quick.” 

“When did you know?” 

Dieter chews on his lip, considers lying just for Marcus’ sake, but decides against it. 

“I pretty much always knew, honestly. But I mean— I was weird anyway, you know? Never really fit in or felt I had to play a certain part or be a certain way. It just made sense. Also, my dad always said I was as queer as a three dollar bill so… that helped.” 

Dieter steals the cigarette between Marcus’ fingers to take a drag himself. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Nothing to be sorry for, man,” Dieter tells him. 

Marcus stares at where Dieter’s lips wrap around his cigarette for a bit too long, and Dieter hands it back, if only to try and stop whatever it is that��s bound to happen next. 

But Marcus takes another drag himself, and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip, and Dieter has never been called strong-willed. 

“What’s it like?” 

“What?”

“To be with a guy? What’s it like?” 

Dieter shrugs. 

“Depends on the guy.” 

Marcus sighs. 

“Are you uh— how do you like… it?” 

“Are you asking if I’m a top or a bottom?” 

Marcus’s face flushes a cute color in the yellow of the porch lights. 

“Both,” Dieter shrugs, “but I haven’t really done that with a lot of guys. Kind of a hassle, you know?” 

Marcus nods, but then his brow quirks up in question. 

“What do you mean? What do you— what do you do, then?” 

Dieter chuckles. 

“All kinds of things, babe.” 

He watches Marcus’ breath catch, the little stutter of his chest. 

“Would you show me?” 

Dieter rolls his eyes to distract them both from the fact that he really, really wants to. 

“C’mon, man. You don’t wanna fool around with me. I’m a loser. Go find a pretty finance boy to shack up with.” 

Maybe he’s less weak-willed than he thought. 

Marcus’ shoulders slump again, and christ, though, is he supposed to just let him leave like a kicked puppy? 

“There’s no intro to psych guy.”

It’s quiet, mumbled around his cigarette, and his eyes won’t leave his feet. 

“What?” 

“It’s you, okay? You’re my— gay awakening, or whatever. Why do you think I’ve been here all week?”

Dieter’s heart is hammering against his chest at that admission. This was not how he figured his Friday night would go.

“Free beer?” 

His joke doesn’t land. Marcus rolls his eyes. 

“It’s not like… I’m not like in love with you or anything. I just… always wanna see you. And you’re— well, you know. You’re hot. And you’re really nice to everyone. And I get this… I feel so weird when I’m around you, like, nauseous. Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

Marcus flicks yet another cigarette to the curb and makes to get up, but before Dieter can think better of it, he grips him on the shoulder to keep him seated. 

“That’s… actually really sweet, Marcus.” 

He scoffs, hides his face in his hands, and it’s so cute Dieter can’t help but smile. 

“Really— Usually people just want to fuck me, or use me for drugs.” 

Marcus groans a little, mortified, and his hands run back to mess up his pristinely styled hair. 

“Buddy, I’m serious. You’re a little charmer.”

Marcus looks up from his lap at that, scratching that neatly buzzed hair on the back of his neck, and his eyes are a little less embarrassed and a little more twinkly.

“You’re just saying that.”

Dieter shakes his head grinning. 

“No, it’s cute. Being genuine is never a bad thing.”

And the thing is, Dieter’s not lying. It’s possibly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him. But he’s toeing a very very fine line here, with himself. Because Marcus is so pretty, and so smart, and he’s soft and kind and he’s real but he’s young. 

And Dieter’s just a Super Super Senior, a total burnout, on his way to holding the world record for The Longest College Career. He’s 23 and he’s still undecided and he probably won’t even get  a college degree after all is said and done. 

But Marcus is looking at him with those big brown eyes, watching, calculating. 

“I just— I feel like you wouldn’t judge me. If I did the wrong thing. You know?”

“I wouldn’t. Anyone who would isn’t worth your time.”

Marcus huffs. Maybe Dieter can still save this. 

“Would you… tell me? What you’d do? What I should do?”

And just like that, Dieter is hopping right over that line with both feet. 

“Kiss me.”

Marcus’ eyes grow even bigger.

“Like, right now? Here?” 

“If you want to. That’s what I’d want you to do, to kiss me right here, like you couldn’t help yourself.”

And Dieter will be damned if he doesn’t do just that, surging forward to grab the sides of his face and press their lips together. 

His lips are so soft, and his face is smooth, and he’s eager, a bit too much, but it only adds to that coincidental charm. Dieter’s left to catch up, as Marcus swipes his tongue along the seam of his mouth and groans. 

Dieter pulls away. Marcus’ mouth gapes open, and his shoulders heave with his fast breaths. 

“You’re so… scruffy.”

Dieter chuckles, wipes Marcus’ spit from his lips and straightens out his mustache. 

“Not good?”

“No, god no, it’s really good.”

And then Marcus smashes their lips together again as a pathetic little sound escapes his throat. Dieter opens his mouth this time, lets Marcus slide his tongue around, a little violent, and this is all a bit too much for some front porch steps, isn’t it?

“Hey,” Dieter says softly, pulling away. 

Marcus’ brows draw up in confusion. 

“Sorry. I’m not a good kisser, am I?”

Dieter sighs, grabs one of Marcus’ hands on his face to link their fingers together. 

“It’s not that,” he says. 

He turns his face to kiss the center of Marcus’ palm and smiles when his breath hitches. 

“You really wanna do this with me?” 

Marcus is nodding before Dieter even finishes speaking. 

“Only if you really want it, too.”

Dieter squeezes his hand. 

“I do, really.”

Marcus smiles the sweetest little smile, and they both stand up, and Dieter doesn’t let his hand go. 

There’s music on in the house, and it smells like weed, and a few people are playing Nintendo in the living room. They don’t pay any mind as Dieter pulls Marcus up to the second floor, down the hall, and into his dimly lit bedroom. 

At least he’s kept it semi-tidy, he thinks, as Marcus looks around while he shuts and locks the door. His bed isn’t made. He’s sure Marcus makes his bed every morning before class. He hopes he doesn’t mind. 

He seems like he’s too nervous to mind, a jittery little thing standing next to his bed. He’s fiddling with the hem of his shirt, staring holes into the stained carpet, when Dieter moves to stand in front of him. 

“Are you nervous?” 

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Dieter grabs both of his hands, and Marcus finally meets his gaze. 

“It’s okay to be nervous. As long as it’s good nervous.” 

He smiles and nods, but the worry in his brow is still there. 

“We won’t do anything you don’t wanna do, okay?”

That seems to soothe him more. 

“Can we kiss again?”

Dieter chuckles. 

“Of course we can.”

Marcus tips over into him, landing at the side of his mouth but quickly correcting course. He licks, but Dieter keeps his mouth shut, goading him to calm down. And he does, slotting his lips around Dieter's bottom one, and everything else slips into place with a soft, satisfied noise from his own chest. 

He lets go of Marcus’ sweaty hands to grab his hips instead, lithe and a little bony. He twitches at the touch, sighs, and presses his lips harder into Dieter’s. His hands search around frantically, jostling them both, until he finds the hem of Dieter’s sweatshirt and gets his hands underneath. 

“Slow,” Dieter mumbles. 

“Hm?”

“Not a race, Marcus. Take your time. Enjoy it.” 

Marcus nods, but gapes at him, like he’s not quite sure what to do next. 

“You wanna get comfy? Take your shoes off, sit down?”

Marcus nods again, but with a little direction, takes his shoes off and sits on the bed, criss-cross applesauce like the cutest fucking thing Dieter’s ever seen. 

“I want this to be— I want you to have a good time, feel good. So tell me if you don’t feel good… or if there’s anything you wanna try. Communication is like, super sexy, right?”

Dieter sheds his shoes and his hoodie as he speaks, thinks he catches Marcus’ eyes staring at the spot between his signature pajama pants and his shirt where it rides up. 

“Yeah… like, dirty talk?”

Dieter huffs out a laugh as he sits facing Marcus, crossing his legs, mirroring him to make him as comfortable as possible.

“Could be dirty talk, yeah. But just normal talk, too. It can be hot to talk about things like… how do you like to be touched? Where?” 

Marcus clears his throat and scratches the back of his head with a puzzled look on his face. 

“My— my dick?”

Dieter wants to laugh, but he can’t blame the guy. It sounds like the only experience he’s had so far is rushed fucks with high school sweethearts. 

“Okay, yeah, that’s a good start. So, for me, I like being kissed. Everywhere. I like feeling lips on my jaw and my neck and especially my nipples. You can bite, too.”

Marcus’ eyebrows raise, his plush lips forming a circular shape that Dieter tries and fails not to focus on. 

“Oh, yeah, okay. I— I like that too. I like when it’s… sloppy.”

Dieter hums, smiles, and nods.

“Anything else you like?” 

He watches Marcus bite his bottom lip and trace shapes on the bedsheets between them. 

“I don’t really know.” 

“That’s okay. Maybe we can figure it out together, yeah?”

His long eyelashes flutter as he blinks real slow, and he smiles. 

“Yeah. Thank you.” 

Dieter does chuckle then. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m gonna have a lot of fun with you.”

Christ, Dieter thinks, if his face gets any more red he might burst into flames. 

He kisses him, to save him from a fiery death. It’s a little awkward, with both of their legs crossed in front of them, but it’s easier to take their time like this. 

Marcus keeps it slow, so Dieter can finally lead. He licks into his mouth to feel his hard palate, and the way he whimpers and shivers in response is so delicious that Dieter can’t help but to do it again and again. 

He feels long fingers grip his thighs, soft at first, but squeezing harder when Marcus returns the favor and scrapes his tastebuds along Dieter’s sharp canines. 

There’s twin sighs when Marcus pulls away, only a little, eyes still shut. 

“You’re really fucking good at this,” he mumbles. 

Dieter hums and pecks his lips again, soft and wet. 

“Could kiss you all night.”

It’s true, even though there’s also a million other things he wants to do with Marcus. He tries to push those wants down by kissing him again, getting that plump bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it. The noise Marcus makes has his cock filling steadily with blood, and he knows it’s very obvious in his pajama pants, and he hopes Marcus doesn’t freak out.

Like he’s reading Dieter’s mind, Marcus’ hands slide so fucking slowly up his thighs. The movements are jerky, and he hesitates when just the tip of his finger brushes his cock. His inhale is audible, but his curious touch proceeds, just the lightest ghosting across his shaft. 

But then he’s pulling away, and Dieter feels on edge, bracing himself for the worst. 

“Can I touch it?”

Dieter exhales his relief.

“You can… Are you open to suggestions, though?”

Marcus nods, his slick mouth hanging open. 

“You could get on top of me, let me feel how much you like this, too. Drag it out, make me really want it.” 

He smirks as Marcus curses, closing his eyes and pressing his palm to the front of his jeans. But he nods, and uncrosses his legs, so Dieter does the same. 

And then, he’s got a lapful of Marcus, and he’s staring up into his glassy, beautiful eyes. 

“Like this?”

His hips shift, and his pert little ass grinds against Dieter’s cock while his own presses against his belly. 

“Just like that. Is this still okay?” 

Marcus doesn’t answer him, just devours his lips again as he rocks his hips and supplies them both with heady friction. His little whimpers are muffled, and his teeth are sinking into Dieter’s lip a little too hard, but in a way that makes his cock throb and pulse against the tight ass against it. 

Dieter’s hands find those lithe hips again, this time under his shirt. His skin is scalding to the touch and so fucking smooth. He digs his thumbs into his hip bones, drags little circles into them that make his hips jolt and stutter. 

Fuck. He likes this a lot. Maybe too much. He pulls himself away to reel it in a bit, maybe to check and make sure this is still alright—

“I’m so fucking hard,” Marcus breathes, “I’ve never felt like this.” 

And as he speaks, he’s ripping his t-shirt over his head and flinging it elsewhere. 

He’s gorgeous. A little scrawny but smooth, everywhere, just miles of tan skin that’s paler here where it gets no sun. Dieter wants to bite, and kiss, and suckle on every fucking inch of it. 

For now, Dieter uses all of his brain power to mumble a distracted ‘me too,’ as his hands moved upward to splay across all that hairless skin. 

Marcus’ stomach tenses and relaxes under his hands, and his chest heaves as Dieter cradles his ribs and brushes his thumbs over his nipples. 

“Does this feel good?” 

He circles them, flicks them a little bit, and wants to curl up and live in that little gasp Marcus makes. 

“Yes.” 

His head is leaning back between his shoulders, all raised and on-edge. That’s not what Dieter wants. He wants him relaxed, wants him all gooey and loose. 

Slowly, gently, Dieter tips him over, a hand on the back of his head until it lands on the pillows. The look in his eyes gets a little squirrely, and his breath picks up, and his nails scrabble at Dieter’s bicep. 

“Is this still okay?” 

Marcus nods quickly, but he’s slower with the verbal response. 

“I think so… just nervous.” 

“Still good nervous?” 

As if to prove it, he cants his hips up into Dieter and he’s rock hard against his thigh. 

“Still good nervous.”

Dieter’s own prick throbs and twitches as he hums. He lowers himself even more over Marcus, finds his racing pulse point and plants a hot, wet kiss there. 

“Can I kiss you here?” he whispers. 

His chin brushes Dieter’s cheek when he nods, and Marcus relocates his hands to reach up the back of his shirt. His palms are sweaty and hot as Dieter trails a wet line of kisses down to his prominent collar bone. 

His skin is so salty, and the heat from his body is making his cheap cologne smell even stronger, and Dieter feels high even though he hasn’t smoked in hours. 

“How about here, Marcus?”

He looks up at the younger man as he hovers his mouth above one tiny, pebbled nipple. He watches as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and smiles and impish grin when Marcus nods again. 

The groan he receives when he closes his mouth around it has him pressing his hips to the mattress for relief. One of Marcus’ hands finds Dieter’s hair and grips.

“Ah fuck.”

Just like that, the fingers loosen and leave his head and Dieter actually whines at the loss. 

“Sorry!”

“No, no, that was a good fuck. Love getting my hair pulled.”

Dieter glances back up at Marcus and watches as his wheels turn. 

“Oh… really?”

He chuckles as he places a sloppy kiss on his sternum, delighted at the way the muscles twitch under his lips. 

“Mmmhmm.”

Marcus sighs as Dieter finds his other nipple.  

“My ex-girlfriend hated it.” 

Dieter nips at the hard bud in his mouth and smirks when Marcus’ hips jolt up. 

“I like a little pain with my pleasure,” he explains. 

“I— can you bite me again?”

Dieter curses and obliges immediately, sinking his teeth into the meat of his pec this time. 

“God, I like that.”

He even earns another tug at his hair, and Dieter knows there’s gotta be a damp spot on the front of his pajamas. 

“That’s so good, Marcus. Keep telling me what you like.” 

Marcus squirms under him as he alternates a string of kisses and licks and bites down his torso. His nails scratch Dieter’s scalp in between tugging on his hair, and this is the most fun Dieter’s had in the bedroom in a long while. 

Marcus has a tiny bit of hair below his belly button, and it’s so fucking cute and whispy when Dieter runs his tongue along the path. But before Dieter can get the fly of his jeans unfastened, Marcus holds a hand over his. 

“Can I try on you now?” 

Dieter’s gaze flickers up to his face, and he looks so sweet, pleading with his big puppy eyes. 

“Yeah, yes, of course you can.”

Marcus smiles, and it’s sure, like he’s finally settled into this, and it makes Dieter’s apprehension fall away. 

It also makes him that much more horny, hard as ever when he lies down with his head on the pillows. He reaches down to readjust and watches Marcus clock the movement with a heady look.

“This is good for you, too?” 

His voice is breathy when he asks, when his hand slips under Dieter’s t-shirt. 

“Marcus, I’m loving this. I feel like a sexy experiment. Poke and prod me, babe.” 

And through all of this newness and anxiety and apprehension, Marcus laughs. It’s music to Dieter’s ears, watching his eyes light up as he chuckles. 

“Take this off then,” he instructs through his laughter. 

“Yes sir,” Dieter purrs, “bossing me around also does it for me. You’re a natural already.” 

“Y-yeah? I don’t— I’ve never been like that.”

Dieter fumbles to back track at the way Marcus’ confidence falls away. 

“It’s okay, that’s an advanced lesson. My bad. Just— Just do what you want with me. Explore. I’m all yours.” 

He talks as he sheds his shirt, and when the damned thing finally pulls free, he feels a little scrutinized under Marcus’s wide eyes. And he kinda really likes it. 

He settles back against the mattress, one arm above his head while the other reaches out to encourage Marcus to come closer. He does, only a little timid as his gaze rakes over every inch of his body. 

He settles between Dieter’s spread legs, one hand dipping the mattress next to him while the other lands hesitantly on his flank. His warm, sweaty palm feels the skin there, draws upward toward his chest, but takes a completely unconventional detour to his armpit. 

Dieter’s cock throbs. This is so fucking weird and so fucking hot. 

Marcus’ jaw drops slack as his fingers card through all of his armpit hair, and it tickles a little bit, but mostly it just makes Dieter’s arousal grow heavy in his groin, burning. 

Before Dieter can really assess what’s going on, or encourage him, or tell him how fucking hard he’s making him, Marcus leans down to capture his lips in his own. 

Dieter groans and scrabbles to grip his waist, arching his hips for any relief and finding it against the front of Marcus’ jeans, a hard line wrapped in denim that twitches against his own. He moans, low and long, as he twirls the thick hair between his finger and thumb. 

And then his hand is gone, and Dieter’s quite disappointed, but he can’t just say that, can he? He weighs the pros and cons of telling Marcus not to stop as the other man trails his lips down the patchy stubble on his jaw, and bites the sensitive skin on his neck. 

Maybe he should tell him. That’s a good lesson, right? How to take feedback, good or bad. But ‘hey keep stroking my armpit hair’ is a bit startling, isn’t it? 

He’s so distracted by the inner turmoil that he doesn’t realize the path Marcus’ has taken until hot breath ghosts that bit of fat between his tit and armpit and then he sniffs, and groans, and licks up all the hair while he presses his cock down into Dieter’s own and Jesus Fuck—

He quickly finds purchase in Marcus’ hair and curses, grinds his hips back up into him with what he hopes is encouraging words. But forgive him if his brain is a little bit completely scrambled. 

Marcus bites just under his patch of armpit hair, burying his nose in it once more, and these primal sounds he makes are vibrating through Dieter’s chest. All he can do at this point is lie back and take it and succumb to the fact that this is definitely altering his brain chemistry for the rest of his life. 

It all stops rather abruptly, though, and two hot hands grab Dieter’s hips hard, pushes them down into the mattress as Marcus arches away from him. 

“I might— I might come.”

Dieter blinks his bleary eyes open to look at the panicked man, who’s squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip. 

“It’s okay if you do. You can have me all night.” 

“Fuck— Shut up, Jesus Christ.”

Dieter huffs, scratches at his wet armpit, and patiently waits for Marcus to settle down. He could probably come that way too, to be honest, with that pretty boy’s tongue lapping at his underarm and their cocks grinding together. 

Marcus’ eyelashes flutter open, and Dieter smiles at him softly, careful not to move or touch. He looks like a hair trigger, sweaty and panting already, with a really fucking hot damp patch soaking through the crotch of his jeans. 

“Sorry. I think I’m good— wait, sorry, was that weird?”

Dieter allows himself to place one of his hands on Marcus’ own, where it’s still gripping tight to his hip bone. 

“It was weird in the hottest way possible.” 

Marcus shakes his head at himself and closes his eyes again. 

“I’m dead serious. I didn’t know how sensitive I was there. You’re teaching me things. That’s super hot.”

Marcus sighs. 

“It’s just… I like the hair. And your deodorant smells nice.”

He pries his eyes open, like he expects Dieter to be disgusted, but his confession only makes his cock jump very prominently in his pajamas. 

“Doesn’t taste very good, though.” 

And now Dieter is laughing, and tugging Marcus back down, mumbling ‘prove it’ and shoving his tongue into his offensively chemical-flavored mouth. 

It’s okay though, he just licks and licks until the taste has dissipated and Marcus is letting go of the death grip on his sides. His mouth follows a much more predictable route, this time, and Dieter watches his every move as those pretty lips wrap around his nipples, one and then the other, until he’s biting and Dieter is whimpering and asking for more. 

“You can leave marks. I like ‘em.” 

Marcus curses against his sternum and obeys, so fucking obedient, suckling Dieter’s skin and rolling it between his teeth. Looking up at him, his eyes look so determined, all dark and heavy, especially when he pulls away to admire the bruise he’s left. 

“More. Want to see you all over me in the morning.” 

“Fuck, Dieter. How’d you get so good at— at talking like that?” 

Dieter chuckles, then hisses when Marcus sucks the skin on his belly into the sharp edges of his teeth. He’s looking up with an expectant quirk of his brow.

“I just say what’s on my mind,” he answers.

Marcus hums, and Dieter places his hand on his jaw to feel it working, a third mark blooming bright red on his hip. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks. 

A fourth mark, this one deeper than the rest, right above the waistband of his pants, as Marcus thinks. 

“I want your cock in my mouth.”

Said cock jerks wildly, disrupting the tent in his pajamas, and Marcus has the audacity to smirk. Dieter lets his thumb trace that wet, swollen bottom lip and doesn’t miss the little whine that Marcus tries to hide. 

“Will you teach me?” 

It’s now that Dieter realizes he’s created an absolute monster, with Marcus looking up at him all wide-eyed, batting those long eyelashes. He knows what he’s doing, and it just makes it all so much worse. Or better. Both, really. 

He clears his throat to try to gather his bearings before he speaks. 

“Yeah, I’ll teach you. Pull it out for me.” 

Dieter watches as his breath hitches, and he eyes the tent in Dieter’s pants with an array of emotions washing over his features. There’s hesitation for sure, as he toys with his waistband. But he’s licking his lips, and taking a big deep breath as he tugs them down Dieter’s thighs. 

And then he’s staring at his cock, swaying in the breeze, and Dieter thinks this would be much less intense if penises weren’t so offensive and in your face. 

“Pretty,” Marcus mumbles, and it makes him giggle. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, it’s— I like it.” 

“Thank you. That’s very sweet.” 

Marcus rolls his eyes but smiles. 

“I can touch it?”

“Yeah, of course. Anything you want. Go at your own pace.”

Maybe it’s cliche, but as soon as Marcus’ hand wraps around his cock, Dieter is done for. Fuck, it feels so good, the way his movements are gentle and calculated, the way he’s being so attentive for his first time, exploratory. His free hand cradles Dieter’s sac, his thumb tracing the seam, and it’s alarming how close this is getting him. It’s so intimate, and genuine, and it’s so hot that he gets to be here for Marcus’ first time. 

Marcus squeezes him tight and strokes, once, from base to tip. He thumbs at his frenulum, slippery with pre come, then lifts that to his lips. It’s like slow motion when he watches him poke his tongue out to taste, and he closes his eyes and hums. 

“Better than the deodorant, for sure.” 

And Dieter’s cock bobs as he laughs. 

“That’s a relief.” 

“I’ve never tasted my own before,” Marcus says. 

“No?” 

“Mm-mm. Seemed… gay.” 

And he laughs at himself, but his face inches closer, and in an instant his tongue is flicking out to lap up more of it, straight from the source. 

Dieter gasps at the contact, so sudden. His taste buds are rough against his slit, in a good way, and he has to cradle Marcus’ neck to reel himself in. 

“That’s so good,” he whispers, “keep doing that.” 

And he does, little kitten licks to the sensitive head of his cock, looking up at him from under those long eyelashes. Dieter groans and closes his eyes because if Marcus keeps looking at him like that, he will come before he can have any fun with him. 

Then, in an instant, he’s completely enveloped by warmth and wetness, too fast, and he opens his eyes at the same time Marcus gags and coughs and pulls off of him. 

“Jesus, Marcus, take it slow.” 

He coughs more, with brow all furrowed and frustrated, and Dieter smooths his hair off of his forehead. 

“Are you alright?” 

Marcus clears his throat as he nods. 

“Yeah, sorry, I can’t— I thought that would be easier.”

Dieter huffs, sits up a bit and leans on his elbow so he can see him better. His eyes are watery and not in a sexy way this time. He pets Marcus’ hair a bit, hoping to soothe him, but the redness doesn’t fade from his cheeks. 

“You don’t have to take it all, that’s no fun, choking like that,” he says, “are you sure you’re okay? We can stop.” 

“No! No— I don’t wanna stop. I’m just embarrassed.”

God, he’s so fucking sweet. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. We’ve all been there. I threw up on the first dick I sucked.” 

“Gross, dude.”

“I’m just saying, it could be way worse. Nothing to even be embarrassed about.” 

Marcus sighs and hides his face in the crease of Dieter’s hip. 

“Seriously, I’m still so hard I could shatter diamonds. You’re so fucking hot, it doesn’t matter if you choke a little.” 

He feels Marcus’ teeth on the skin of his hip before he sees his jaw moving. He bites and sucks and it’s another beautiful piece of him he’ll get to take from this experience. 

“That’s it. It’s all about the recovery. Fuck, Marcus, your mouth feels so good on me. Everywhere.” 

Dieter lifts his hips up to encourage him to bite more, mark him up all over. He follows eagerly, until there’s little love bites scattered across the thin skin over his hip bone and his cock is weeping for attention. 

Marcus looks up at him, finally, as he hovers just above his prick.

“Can I try again?”

Dieter hums and cards his fingers through his thick brown hair. 

“Play until you win, babe.” 

He’s much more careful, this time. He takes the head into his mouth and sucks, lets his tongue lather and swirl around it as his hand keeps his dick in place. He’s gorgeous, with his cheeks hollowed out and his eyes shut in concentration. 

“Yeah, just like that, fucking perfect.”

Marcus whimpers around his cock, and drool is starting to leak from the corners of his mouth and drip down Dieter’s shaft. 

“Move your hand a bit, jerk me off while you suck on it.”

He follows the direction so well, letting his hand draw up to meet his lips, then back down, over and over, and Dieter can feel his gut growing hot and tight. His tongue is working him relentlessly, and he’s never really had a partner use theirs so much, but the frantic swirling and flicking has his head spinning. 

“You’re amazing,” Dieter breathes, “making me feel so good.”

At the encouragement, Marcus braves another inch of his cock. He starts to bob his head up and down, following his lips with his fist, and the breaths through his nose get heavier. Dieter babbles a bit, just encouraging words as Marcus works him dutifully, trying with all his might not to thrust up into his hot, sloppy mouth. 

But then Marcus looks up at him with his pretty brown eyes and groans around the cock in his mouth and it’s too much. 

“Fuck— fuck, Marcus, let me go.” 

Marcus does, as quickly as he can, panting when his mouth is finally free. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Dieter huffs. 

“Nothing, you’re perfect, gorgeous, beautiful. I just don’t wanna come yet.” 

“Oh.”

The little cock drunk smile he gets is too cute, and Dieter tugs lightly on his hair to get him to crawl back up for a kiss. He tastes like pre-cum, and his nails bite into the heated skin of Marcus’ back for purchase. 

“How are you feeling? Still gay?” 

Marcus laughs against his lips. 

“The gayest I’ve ever been.” 

Dieter collapses back on the pillows to look up at him. 

“Really though, are you still into this?” 

Marcus nods, presses his hips into Dieter’s thigh to swipe away any last remaining doubt. 

“Alright, next and final lesson. Get those tight little jeans off.”

He’s so quick to obey, and Dieter tries not to gawk at how much bigger that wet spot has grown just below his fly. He shakes himself out of it and gets his pajama pants completely off his legs. 

Marcus is so fucking hot, jesus, Dieter feels like he’s pushing his luck having him here in his bed. So lean and long, and his cock is uncut and curves a bit to the left, and he’s still so hard. 

“Get beside me, face me.”

And Marcus looks right at home like this, laid out in his bed, with his bicep bulging from propping his head up on his hand. 

“What’s the lesson?” 

Dieter smirks at the eagerness. 

“I’m gonna jerk us off together.”

Marcus raises his brow. 

“Like, at the same time?”

Dieter hums his affirmative, reaches a tentative hand out to cup Marcus’ pert little asscheek, and chuckles when he twitches. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll save that for another time. If you want.” 

“Shit, yeah, okay.”

And isn’t that gonna be fun? The thought makes Dieter’s cock throb and jerk and he shuffles to close the distance so their pricks line up together. 

“Is this okay? Like this?” 

He looks up from their cocks to watch Marcus’ jaw go slack. 

“Oh god, ‘m not gonna last at all.”

Even as he says it, he’s wrapping his own hand around both of them and squeezing, groaning at the feeling and bucking his hips so they slide together. 

“I don’t want you to last, I want you to feel good.” 

Dieter lets his hand join the fun, covering what Marcus can’t, and his cock jumps in their combined hold when Marcus whines.

“I do, I— fuck, I really do.” 

“Kiss me?”

He’s cut off by Marcus’ lips, all swollen and hot against his own. Marcus moans as soon as their tongues meet, and he starts shaking like a leaf. His hand squeezes harder around their pricks, works them faster, and Dieter can feel each and every twitch of his dripping cock. 

He’s so frantic with it. His breathing whistles fast through his nose, panting into his mouth, and every other exhale is a desperate little noise. It only takes a few dozen strokes for Marcus to fall apart.

“Gonna come— I’m coming, Dieter—”

He gasps as it washes over him. Dieter feels his hot, sticky cum splash over his own hand and his cock and his stomach. Marcus hides his face in the crook of Dieter’s neck and bites as it courses through him. It sends a hot white spark down his spine, and what little filter he’d maintained throughout the night completely short-circuits.

“Shit, that’s it. So fucking good, coming all over me— Fuck, Marcus, you’re hot when you come. You feel so fucking good.”

Marcus whimpers through his aftershocks as Dieter fills his ears with whatever filth he can muster. When it’s too much, and Marcus has to slide his spent cock from their joined hands, he doesn’t let go of Dieter. He helps, with the slick aid of his cum, and Dieter topples over the edge with a growl and Marcus sucks another mark into his overheated skin. 

It’s blinding, it’s his favorite orgasm he’s ever had for sure. Marcus gasps when the first streak of his spend shoots all over his smooth stomach. 

“Fuck yes,” he sighs, exerted but intrigued as Dieter fucks their fists. 

His cum mixes with the stains Marcus already left on his blanket, slowing to a trickle just as Marcus’ grasp loosens. Even when he’s empty, Dieter can still feel the orgasm buzzing through his body as he tries to regain his breath. 

Marcus finally looks up from the scene of the crime and Dieter wants to take a picture of the fucked-out look on his face, his messy hair, his spit-slick lips and flushed face. But he can’t, so he kisses him instead, closing his eyes so maybe he can burn that image into his memory for eternity. 

It’s lazy, so much slower and softer than the way Marcus kissed when he was all keyed up. 

Shit.

Dieter’s in for it. He’s always had an addictive personality, and having Marcus in his bed has been stronger than any fucking drug he’s tried before. 

He whimpers when Marcus pulls away, chasing his lips just for a moment before he reels himself back in. 

He looks down at the mess he’s going to promptly ignore, thinks about how far away the bathroom closet is with all the towels. But then one slender finger is swiping through the cum puddle between them, and lifting to his face, and Dieter devours. 

Marcus chuckles at the desperate noise Dieter makes as he swirls his tongue around to lick up every last drop. 

“How do we taste together?” 

Goddamn, Marcus is much more suave after an orgasm. 

“Like we were made for each other.” 

Christ, he needs to get himself together. His brain is just so fucking fuzzy and light.

Marcus doesn’t run for the hills, though. He giggles, and dips that same finger into their mess again. He brings it up to his own lips this time, sucking it inside his mouth and pulling it out clean. 

There’s a slight grimace as he rolls it around in his mouth. 

“Not as sweet as you were earlier.” 

And Dieter laughs, brushes his two cleanest knuckles against the skin of Marcus’ hip. 

“It’s an acquired taste.” 

Marcus nods, and looks down between them, and some of that lightness in his features fizzles out. 

“Hang on— here, use these.”

Dieter hands him his discarded pajama pants, and they use one leg each to tidy up their hands and stomachs and cocks. Then Dieter balls them up to swipe at his sticky blanket as best as he can. And it’s all so quiet, as their breathing has evened out, and fuck, what if Marcus has some crazy post-nut clarity after this… heavy situation? 

He’s staring at the bedroom door when Dieter looks up to face him. 

“Should I uh… go… now?” 

Dieter sighs and finally gets his freshly wiped hand on Marcus’ skin, colder now where all the sweat has cooled. 

“Personally, I would like it if you stayed. Cuddling after sex is… well, I like it a lot. Some people don’t… it’s okay if you don’t. Whatever you’re comfortable with. This was probably a lot for y—”

Marcus cuts off his rambling— thank god— by burrowing his face in Dieter’s chest and tangling their naked legs together. They both release two huge twin sighs, and Dieter’s instantly soothed by the weight against him, and the lithe fingers stroking his back. 

Dieter can’t help it, he tucks his chin and plants a kiss to the crown of Marcus’ head. He drowns in the scent of sweat and cheap shampoo and feels so grounded for the first time in a very long time. 

Marcus hums, and Dieter pulls him in tighter, swipes his palm over the curve of his tiny asscheek. 

He clears his throat. 

“I don’t have any plans tomorrow…” 

Marcus lifts his head, and he looks so sleepy but so satisfied. 

“So we can stay up all night? You can— could you show me more things?” 

Dieter chuckles and kisses his lips to hide how relieved he feels. 

“Was gonna see if you wanted to catch a movie or something. But I think I like your idea better.” 

“Oh— a movie sounds good! I mean, it would be chill.” 

Dieter huffs. 

“Split the difference, we’ll watch a movie here while I eat your cute little ass?” 

Dieter actually feels his limp cock twitch against his thigh, and tries to hold back a self-satisfied smirk. 

“Yep. Yeah, let’s do that instead.” 

Dieter kisses him, this time just because he can. 

“Get some sleep first, okay? I’ll be right here.” 

The look of comfort on Marcus’ face makes his chest burn and ache. His droopy eyelids close as he smiles, and his head drops to Dieter’s splayed out arm. 

He just watches, for a little while. Lets himself count the deep, even breaths Marcus takes and feels them on the skin of his bicep. 

His arm is gonna go numb in about two minutes tops, and he’ll cherish every pinprick until he drifts off.

[brucewaynehater101]

Hear me out for something Silly. Jack is not Tim's biological parent. Jack, Janet, and Tim all know this. So does Tim's biological parent. Tim does have contact with his Biodad and they do get along wonderfully. When he has time off from his very busy job and thinks it's safe, he will 100% drop by Gothem to see his son. Even if they can't see eachother a lot, Tim and his dad are still very close.

As for how this happened, Janet and Jack had a three way with a *very* interesting stranger about the time Tim would have been conceived. Since he didn't exactly look like Jack, they did a DNA test and then called the guy and asked him to do a DNA test. He told them he would but only if he got his DNA back after the test. Just one of his weird quirks that worked as Rizz on the pair.

Honestly though, it's nothing short of a miracle that they got The Question of all heroes to do a paternity test, but then again. He has always wanted to be a dad and this is an opportunity that just fell into his lap! And the day he walked into his son of 7 years old standing infront of a corkboard covered in pictures and string? It was the proudest day of his life. He had little Tim talk him through all of the strings and explain his theory and Tim started by smacking his little hand on the board and saying in the most manic voice, "BATMAN IS BRUCE WAYNE."

By the end, Question was pacing around the room as Tim also paced around the room, both rambling at eachother as they used Bruce's connections to uncover who well over half the leauge are. Does Question feel a little guilty about finding out his coworkers identities? Maybe. But he doesn't care, he's bonding with his son! His son is brilliant!! Not even he knew who Batman was!!! He could never have been prouder and it nearly made him cry.

Years later when Tim became Robin, he freely told Question about it and while Question didn't approve fully, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop his brilliant, wonderful, adorable, *stubborn* son. Tim could out stubborn a hundred mules, just like both his mother and his father. Maybe he could even out stubborn the both of them, as evidence by Question being the one to cave first. He caved on the condition that Tim get *proper* training and go to a few people of his choosing after he trains under the people that Bruce wants him to train under. Tim agrees and gets a few extra teachers in his time away.

Tim does not tell the Bats that Question is his Dad, simply assuming that if he could figure out who they were at 7 years old, they can figure out something as simple as who his parent is. Turns out, all of the Bats think that Jack Drake is his father and he doesn't find this out until Jack dies. When he does so, Bruce asks where Tim is going to stay and he replies, "with my Dad and his wife, obviously." To which there is quite a bit of confusion until Tim scoffs and crosses his arms as he states, "Jack Drake was never my father. He and Mother were very open about the fact that they had a 3 way and the other guy there is my biological father. I've been in contact with him regularly since I was 3. Sure he's not there all the time but he makes sure to visit minimum once a month. Usually at least twice a week. He's a good person and I'll be fine living with him and his wife. Hell, he's been trying to get me to move in with him for years anyways! Honestly, I thought you already knew this Bruce. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see my Dad." And simply walked out if the cave.

The Bats. Don't know who his father is. Nor for lack of trying though. His dad is The Question that man leaves no evidence of anywhere he has been and never walks into cameras. He leaves just enough that they know he's real. Jason has seen the man with his own two eyes and swears he is a red head, but the man vanished before Jason could say a word to him. However Damian saw Tim talking to someone with black hair and and blue coat on patrol, but didn't get a look at his face. The guy was gone before Damian could get there and Tim tells him that it was his dad doing a mid patrol check in, which he does sometimes.

There is nearly a very big fight about civilians and identity hiding until Tim snaps, "HE KNEW FROM THE DAY I KNEW. HE HELPED ME WITH MY FUCKING EVIDENCE BOARD AND ENCOURAGED ME. BESIDES, HES NOT EVEN A CIVILIAN ANYWAYS!" And before anyone can question it, he goes on a long rant about how it can't be that hard to piece together who his dad is because they haven't been hiding it from them At All and how disappointed he is in them. As he does so, he is texting someone and when asked who, Tim snaps, "my Dad! I'm telling him to come to the Batcave because you're all idiots who couldn't find the link between us!" This leads to Bruce getting angry about inviting strangers to the Batcave and Tim scoffs about Bruce having invited his dad there before.

30 minuets later, when The Question walks in and says, "Hello Batman." Bruce turns to him to ask why he's there but Tim cuts in and says, "finally! Dad, can you believe that none of these idiots put it together?! They have no idea were related!" And Question just says, "but. We've been living together for nearly a year. I've known you all your life and you are the greatest thing I've ever helped to create." And Tim blushes a bit at the last part but plays it off by insulting The Bats, "right? And they call themselves Detectives!"

They spend the next hour roasting the Bats together and also mentioning off the walls crazy theories that are actually true.

Years later when Tim goes on the Brucequest, he doesn't go alone. He shows his evidence to his dad and Question and Huntress both come with him to help. Tim doesn't loose his spleen thanks to them but they do have to team up with the LOA because they have Tam held hostage. They also blow up the leauge but all credit goes to Tim and when they get Bruce back, they try to give credit to Tim but the Leauge just points at Question and Huntress and says, "those two did it."

Holy shit. This AU is fantastic.

I do not know nearly enough about Question, and you've pointed out the errors in my ways. I should know more about him because you are absolutely correct (also, AUs that speculate who can be Tim's bio parents are hilarious to me).

Fuck. I just binged some of his content (a very small amount), and I swear to gods this man is hilarious. His dry wit, conspiracy theories, humor, and overall demeanor is grand. I should find more.

Anyways, I absolutely love how Jack, Janet, and Question are peacefully coparenting. There's no drama or tension. Jack isn't jealous or mad. They just raise Tim together.

Tim and Question bonding over theories, research, stalker tendencies (referencing when Question said he goes through everyone's trash), and pin boards is adorable. This is a friendship/mentor bond I didn't know I needed in my life until now.

I'm also vibing with Question messing with the Bats while Tim us legitimately confused how they haven't figured anything out yet.

I'm also imagining post Jack's funeral (if this is a good dad Bruce AU), that Bruce turns to the newly orphaned Tim. He has adoption papers metaphorically behind his back and does a blue screen at realizing that Tim has been hiding even more parents all this time. It seems his adoption addictions were stopped this time, dagnabbit.

[moonlightazriel]

Taken /// Azriel X F!Reader X Cassian

Summary: Azriel doesn't notice what he had until he lost it. Inspired by Taken from One Direction.

Warnings: Angst and smut!

Word Count: 3,1K

Notes: I don't plan to write a second part for this and if you want to blame someone for the angst, it's all @fieldofdaisiies fault for encouraging me...

Main Masterlist

For centuries she loved him, what started with a silly crush, developed to love with time. She was always there for him, waiting until he felt what she felt, loved her the way she loved him, but for centuries she waited for crumbs of his attention, he wouldn’t even spare a glance in her direction, barely giving a thought about her.

She learned to live with the constant pain and yearning, nurturing a little spark of hope in the depths of her heart, that maybe, if she showed him enough affection and loved him from afar, something would change and he would finally notice her the way she wanted to. But that never happened. 

He never looked at her with love and admiration, never reached out for her to know how she was doing, never took a liking in her interests and who she was outside her job as a emissary, that was all she was to him and all she ever was going to be, someone invisible, unworthy of his time and attention. 

She knocked on his door, slightly shaking, for some time now the thought of talking to him left her nervous, the comfort she felt whenever she was around him slowly vanishing and leaving the bitter taste of indifference behind. He commanded her in, and as she pushed the  door open, she spotted him on his desk, papers scattered around and a steaming mug of tea on the side. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Az.” She managed to talk past the lump on her throat, feeling that she was disturbing him. He looked at her, dull annoyed eyes, that feeling in the pit of her stomach only intensified. 

“What do you want?” His voice was cold, without the warmth and kindness he reserved for the others in the inner circle. 

“I need to get some papers for Rhys in the city, can you fly me there? No one is home and I can’t go..” She hated it, without wings and the ability to winnow, she was completely dependent on others to help her to get out of the House of Wind.

“I’m busy now, wait for me and I'll take you later.” He said with a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in clear annoyance for her interruption, and she just nodded, whispering a quick thank you and rushing away from him. 

She sat at the library, waiting for him, the clock on the wall changing as the time slowly passed by, ten minutes, half an hour, two hours, five hours, until she was almost sleeping against the arm of the comfortable chair, her book falling from her hands and startling her up with the noise. 

She looked at the clock once again, realising she was waiting for him almost all day, those papers were important and Rhys really needed them, so she got up, fixing her hair in a ponytail and heading for the 10,000 steps that would take her to the city. 

One hour later, she rested her hands against her knees, sweat dripping from the tip of her nose, she tried to catch her breath, her whole body felt rigid and no matter how much she trained, those steps were always cruel to anyone. After recomposing herself, she started her journey towards the small library hidden in Velaris.

Her heart sank when she walked past the street market, in one of the stands, leaning against the counter and clearly flirting with the pretty female on the other side, Azriel. She held her breath, feeling anger rising inside of her, he was already going into town, and he couldn’t even remember her? Was she that insignificant to him?

She didn’t know if he saw her or if his shadows alerted him, all she could see was his wide eyes as they locked with hers, he made a move to walk in her direction but she was quicker, pushing through the bodies and walking away from him.

It didn’t hurt seeing him with her, like it did so many times in the past whenever he flirted with someone in front of her, it hurt how inconsiderate he was. Her heart thrummed in her chest, breaking away the little hope that was left. Nothing, that’s all they would ever be, and for once, that thought didn’t break her, it encouraged her to move forwards. She pushed through the doors with a renewed confidence, she would be okay.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You don’t plan on climbing those, do you?” A voice startled her as she eyed the steps that would bring her home, she had quickly dropped the papers off, apologising profusely for the delay, to which Rhys just said it was fine. 

“How else am I supposed to go up there?” She turned to Cassian, by the looks of it, it looked like he had just arrived from the week long trip to the Illyrian war camps. 

“Maybe a very strong friend of yours can carry you.” Amusement glinted in those eyes. She smiled at him.

“You must be tired, Cass.” He indeed looked tired, bags underneath his eyes that usually weren’t there, his wings a little slumped and his hair dishevelled. 

“Never too tired to have a pretty female pressed up against me.” He winked at her and she felt her cheeks getting hotter under his gaze, he had always been like this, always flirting and making her flustered, she always took it as a part of his bright personality. 

“Yeah, I could definitely use a ride now.” The thought of climbing all those steps again somehow sounded worse than before.

“Hop on, gorgeous.” He sneaked his arms underneath her legs and supported her back, while she clung to his neck with both arms, feeling the wind on her face as he made the short flight up to the House. 

“Hey, are you hungry?” she asked as the two landed and headed inside. “I made some pie, I saved some pieces before Rhysand and Morrigan ate the whole thing.” She giggled and Cassian nodded.

“I would love to.” He gave a very loud kiss on her temple. “Your food is the best.” He moved towards his room while she went to the kitchen. Searching the fridge for the piece she had saved for Azriel, but he didn’t even bother to eat, he probably wouldn’t care now. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry for today.” His voice sounded behind her, she was bent inside the fridge, snatching the pie and turning to him, he eyed the pie in her hands, remembering her telling something about saving him some. “Oh, I’m not hungry, I ate in the city.”

“This isn’t for you.” She quickly replied in a monotone voice, anger still warming her insides. Azriel flinched at her tone. “And don’t worry, the papers were my problem, not yours, so you didn’t had to do anything.” She barely looked at him, fetching a spoon and heading towards the  exit. 

“Still, it wasn’t nice of me.” She turned to him one last time, glancing him up and down, before placing the plate on the table. 

“When were you ever nice to me anyway?” Her words were heavy with sadness and they weighed on his guts, making his stomach churn. He was going to say something, when a freshly bathed Cassian appeared, sitting in front of the plate. 

“This smells fucking divine.” He took a bite from Azriel’s piece. “As good as I imagined, Thank you sweetheart.” Azriel watched the interaction in silence, how she blushed with the pet name and the adoration in Cassian’s eyes, something didn’t sit right with him watching that, and he would learn too late why he didn’t like it. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel had to watch her over the months, how she didn’t rush to greet him when he came from missions, how now she never went to ask about his day or how he was doing, how whenever she cooked, it wouldn’t have a meal ready waiting for him, how she distanced herself from him, only talking to him when it was extremely necessary, and that made him sad.

Despite everything it felt nice knowing someone cared about him like she did, someone noticed him and paid attention to the details in his life no one else bothered to look at. How she always had the perfect gift for him on solstice, how she always had the right thing to say when he would let his thoughts consume him. 

He watched how she interacted with everyone but him, having wine with Mor, meetings with Rhys and always choosing Cassian at training, her easy smiles that once were almost just for him, were for anyone but him now. He felt her absence deeply, so used to having her like a second shadow, that now he felt alone.  

Today was the day she was leaving, she and Cassian were going to the Summer Court as Emissaries, working with the High Lord to strengthen their alliances. Whenever she was going to a mission, she would leave a gift for him, but today, as she handed a fresh batch of cookies for Rhys and a very expensive bottle of wine to Mor, and left without barely saying goodbye to him, he knew something was wrong between them and once she got back, he would do anything to fix it.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The sun glowed on her skin, the bluest of the oceans surrounded her at the private beach Tarquin invited them to, Cassian couldn’t focus on what the male was saying, failing his duty greatly, but how could he when she was right there? Sparkling brighter than the sun above their heads, with her wet hair glued to her forehead, a big grin as she laughed at something Cresseida said. 

Cassian had always been attracted to her, content to wait for her as long as it would take for her to stop pining for his dumb brother and set her beautiful eyes on him. And he felt that moment approaching, more than ever, and he wasn’t going to let it slide from in between his fingers. He would grasp it and fight whoever dared to try and take her from him.

“There’s something distracting you, Lord Cassian?” Tarquin followed his eyes to his companion exiting the ocean.

“The view is quite beautiful here.” He tried to brush it off to which the High Lord just scoffed.

“Oh yeah, the view is stunning.” Tarquin snorted and Cassian felt his cheeks hot as she set her eyes on him. 

“My lord, this beach is the closest we have of paradise.” She bowed her head a little, sitting down by Cassian’s side and sipping on the cold drink that waited for her. 

“I’m glad you like it, Lady Y/N.” Tarquin smirked her way and Cassian wanted to punch it away from his lips. They sat there for the whole afternoon, discussing court matters and some other business. The High Lord had invited them for dinner with him. 

Cassian escorted her back to her room, her cheeks rosy from the summer heat, they had just arrived from dinner with Tarquin, but she didn’t felt like sleeping yet, so she invited Cassian for a drink, and one become two, and when she noticed, she was on all fours as Cassian pounded into her from behind. 

Her breasts shaking with his rough pace, while she moaned for him to never stop, she hadn't allowed herself to feel this good in a very long time and it felt great to be desired, having someone praising her and worshipping her body the way she deserved to be worshipped. She crumbled apart under his touch, and she moaned his name loudly when he reached for her bundle of nerves, drawing an invisible pattern that had her coming so hard she almost blacked out.

And when he held her later that night, laying her head on his chest, almost asleep, she felt her heart complete for the first time in centuries and she really liked the feeling, it was like everything finally felt right in his arms, and she could only hope that he felt the same way. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We should go out today.” He had said as the two sat for breakfast at her balcony. They haven’t spoken about last night's events yet, and she felt anxiety cursing through her veins.

“That sounds like a great idea.” She mumbled, and Cassian noticed how her shaking fingers grabbed the juice and poured it into her cup.

“About last night.” He grasped her hand, soothing her nervousness with his warmth. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I like you, and I want you to be mine. Azriel never deserved you.” He said and she looked at him, his eyes filled with sincerity. 

“What I felt last night and in these weeks here with you, maybe this is what love really looks like and I really want to try, I deserve better than being invisible.” Cassian smiled at her.

“I always saw you as you are, the stunning and wonderful female with the biggest heart that always took care of everyone but was never taken care of, I intend to change that.” He inclined over the table, capturing her lips in a kiss and she allowed her heart to sink in that feeling of being appreciated, she would be happy now. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“I’m so sorry, my Lord.” She said and Tarquin could see she was being honest. “We just got a little bit carried away, we understand if you never want to see us again, but please, don’t punish our court for our reckless behaviour.” 

“I won’t, but Cassian is banned from my Court, the damage he caused was too big.” She nodded.

“I understand, you can expect money for the repairs and for the inconvenience.” Tarquin nodded. “Thank you for having us here and for your kindness.” The male dismissed her and she marched outside the castle where Cassian waited for her escorted by five guards. 

“Too bad?” He asked sheepishly and she smiled at him.

“You’re banned and I promised money to rebuild.” He nodded.

“Could be worse.” He grabbed her, starting their journey back to the Night Court.

Last night, when they got out, things got a bit out of hand when Cassian took too many drinks, and a guy flirted with her. The two had a big fight that ended up with Cassian throwing the male on the building, damaging the structure and prompting the building to collapse. He was arrested for the night while Y/N tried to talk with Tarquin. 

Rhys already knew what happened and waited for them ready to scold Cassian for being so stupid and threatening their alliance, but Y/N was quick to defend him and guarantee that nothing was ruined and she could fix it over time. Cassian had pulled her to his lap while they talked, resting his chin on her shoulder, knowing that Rhys would never do anything to him out of consideration for her. 

“You’re lucky she’s your girlfriend now, Cass, Rhys won’t scold you anymore cuz he would hate to be on her bad side and miss her weekly cookies.” Mor laughed and they followed her. 

“Girlfriend?” Azriel asked, standing in the doorway, his eyes not believing what he was seeing, Cassian holding her.

“Problems with that brother?” Cassian sneered. “A female like her? Only a fool wouldn’t appreciate it.” Azriel felt his blood boiling in his veins.

He watched them angrily during the whole dinner, how she looked at Cassian, in the way she used to look at him, her orbs glowing and full of love. How he kept a hand on her thigh the whole time. He hated seeing the two together and he wouldn’t go down without a fight. So he waited. 

She always made a mug of tea before sleeping. So he waited for her in the kitchen, she looked surprised to see him there, her body barely covered by the nightgown and he almost threw up at the sight of purplish marks on the vale of her breasts. He hated the thought of her being touched like that by Cassian.

“We need to talk.” He said as she passed by him, starting to boil the water for her tea.

“I have nothing to say to you.” He scoffed and she turned towards him, her eyes cold and devoid of any emotion towards him.

“I do! How can you be with him?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Cassian makes me happy and he’s a good male, why wouldn’t I be with him?” 

“Because you love me and you’re supposed to be mine.” He blurted and hurt flashed across her eyes.

“So you always knew how I felt but only decided to acknowledge it when I'm with someone else. How convenient.” She was hurt and he could feel it.

“Leave him, I’m right here, I love you.” He reached for her hand but she stepped backwards, away from him. 

“You don’t love me, you never did. You only loved the attention, the fact that no matter what I would always be waiting for you like a stupid puppy. I was tired, Azriel.”

“Don’t say that, I know that deep down you still love me.” She laughed humorlessly.

“I LOVED you.” She corrected him. “I fell out of love with you a long time ago.”  His heart cracked in his chest, for the first time, seeing him distressed didn’t make her feel anything, there were no feelings left for him inside of her anymore. 

“I can make you happy, there’s no one else for me if it’s not you.” Tears welled in his eyes but she shook her head. 

“I really hope you find someone you truly love, for the first time my life isn’t about you anymore, let me be happy.” She begged and he could hear the exhaustion in her voice. Loving him and waiting for him was a tiring task, and she wasn’t willing to live like that anymore. 

“Please Y/N, don’t do this to me.” She took a deep breath.

“You never cared about what your behaviour would do to me, not even for a minute, why should I care?” She turned her back to him, finishing her tea. She walked past him. 

“I love you, please.” He was sobbing like a child now, she stared at him blankly. 

“It’ll pass.” She took a sip. “I learned to live with the pain of being in love with you, you’re smart, I know you’re going to learn as well.” She ignored the sound of the furniture breaking behind her as she walked towards Cassian’s room, where a life filled with love waited for her.