#hard-boiled and loaded with sin

[current-words-publishing]

GIRL BOSS AUTHOR2AUTHOR

[sleepy-fiction]

Please, God

○ andrew kriess x gn!reader

○ 5.8K WORDS

syn: you're a wicked temptation he should be running from, but you make him so hard. Please, God, let him cum.

tgs: NSFW reader bottom, undisclosed sex and gn sex terms for reader, andrew overcomes fear of sex (religious oppression), loaded religious terms, masturbation, unprotected penetration, silly virus, andrew busts 7 million nuts cause hes sensitive as hell, cutesy fluff, comedic, comfort

a/n: I had so much fun writing this. It was entirely self-serving. but for those who are scared that this will be mostly angst, lit dw I try to balance comedy and a whole lot of romantic sex within it!! It's not meant to be a deep dive but more so a sexy comfort fic looll. pls give it a read it's super funny and cutesy and ofc, sexy as hell

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Andrew knows he shouldn't. He's always set so behind others - he was born a monster - a sinner. He had to work harder to relieve the favor of his community, of his God. He can't stop now. He has to continue. But a wicked, beastly desire within him was stirring in his belly. Tormenting his soul. It raged like a fire within his heart, that sparked down brilliant flares to his loins.

He swallows thickly.

It all started when you came into town.

You were a foreigner, different in how you talked, spoke, and carried yourself. He could taste the sunny vibe you glittered as you talked to everyone, including him. He had learned from gossip that you were a traveling merchant, coming here to rest from your travels before you head to the capital. And though he tried to protect them from the contagious sin that was him- you never stopped talking to him.

You didn't stop either when you cornered him against the cemetery gate, demanding he homes to see you in your inn. Saying how cruel he was for running from you and assuming you didn't like his company for "forcing him away" as you call it.

You were so close, so angry, and so zealous about him visiting you. You demanded him to see you and even went as far as to confess that you loved his company- alone. He swallowed thickly. You said it all in innocence, but the way you made him feel wasn't. Your arm pinned him against the gate by his collar. All the while your face had such a serious expression he had never seen you wear before.

He said yes quickly because he wanted you away from him, so the glittering feelings would disappear. But you persisted, scolding him until you got your fill. You only stopped when you noticed his trembling breath and shaking hands.

Before you left, you told him one last thing, "Tomorrow evening. Dress nicely." He already knew what that invitation meant.

You were taking him to dinner.

If only you knew he was shaking, not because he was afraid of you but because of the wickedness in his body. He was afraid of how excited he was. Afraid of how his body seemed to tingle in a way, he thought he shut down when he was a preteen.

If only you saw the way he squirmed.

If only you could see him now.

Andrew stood naked from the waist down in his home's small bathroom, his hands tugging and pulling at his amazingly wet cock. His clothes bunched at his ankles. His dick dribbled and spat up like a hungry animal, creating erotically slick sounds for every tug.

He just had to make it go away.

His cock was boiling in his hands, his face burning a brilliant red as his free hand held up his shirt. His eyes slapped lidded, moans barreling out at the most sensitive touches.

It normally only took a few pumps, but God was this taking long.

He leaned back against the wall of his bathroom, sinking his back into it and lazily drooping his head down to look at his weeping cock.

He dropped his shirt, and his free hand greedily met his other in massaging his cock, the two-handed squeezing and rubbing causing his back to arch off the wall as his moans filled the bathroom.

Please, he hopes God--

"Just touching there?"

He hears the phantoms of your voice egging him on from the depths of his wicked mind. He gasped at the idea, the sound so clear in his mind that he even looked for you and found nothing. But it continued, "Play with your tip, while you stroke yourself." He groaned painfully at the thought.

He leaned down to watch himself. Obeying as his fingers fluttered, light circles into his tip, while his other hand stroked himself viciously. The friction had him cry out, his legs buckling and shivering under the pressure.

He was going to come.

His moans peaked, his mind betraying him. As he imagined you, staring at him with that intense glare. He bursts, shooting hot, thick streams that splatter against the toilet.

With a dry moan, he leans back against the wall panting viciously.

"What? You're finished just like that," you egg him in his thoughts.

He looks down frantically, staring at his still achingly hard cock.

A whimper flees from his lips, "Oh no..." He tries to shut his eyes, praying it all will go away.

"No what?"

"No... I can't keep..."

"Touch it, Andrew." You command.

He bucks his hips forward in delight. "No." He rushes out of his bathroom, haphazardly pulling up his clothes safely around his waist, rushing to his bed. He barrels into it face first, groaning at the minuscule friction it gives him. Uncontrollably his hips rock into the bed, his poor cock mewling for pleasure.

"Andrew," you tease, he moans in delight, "I want you-"

"No!" He yells. Andrew barrels up to his feet, running out of his home deep into the dead of night. "That house's cursed," he yells into the late air for none to hear. His feet clamored against the pavement, eyes following the streetlights, as he ran to the only place he knew.

Andrew ran into the local Inn before he even knew where he was headed. He burst through the large oak doors and was greeted by the blinding lights of the warm building. He hissed and covered his eyes with his hand. Yet, his bursting into the doors was not a pleasant sight for the innkeeper.

"Oh. It's Kriess," she grumbled. Amid his panic, he was delighted to note that she at least used his name.

But the delight quickly warped to horror.

Why did he come here?

What sort of wicked spirit is possessing him right now?

"I-I shouldn't be here," He squeaks, but it falls on deaf ears.

"Room Nine, third floor," the lady grumbles.

"W-What!" He barked.

"Are you raising your damn tone at me?"

"No, I would never--"

"Get out of here! Get you, white devil!" She barrels as she points to the staircase.

With a terrified gasp, Andrew ran up the stairs, not stopping until he hit the third floor. By now, he was shivering, his teeth clamoring together, his heart beating so fast it could burst. Paranoia ensues him, as his eyes flicker down the hall, left to right with no real substance.

White devil, white monster. He's here acting on his demonic instincts, trying to satisfy the needs of his flesh. What sort of prayer would get him out of this? He needs to know. Please, God he--

"Oh? If my eyes are correct, that's Andrew Kriess!"

You spoke.

He heard your chipper voice mumble. His whole body takes a much-needed deep breath. A mewl of delight escapes him, as his mind floods with serenity.

It was the real you this time.

His head turned to see you at your doorstep, with a cozy robe on. You were preparing for bed, even now you looked so radiant. Your eyes were filled with fondness that fondness that made his heart squeeze. "I was just going out to get - wait. What's wrong?" Your face droops instantly.

You move so quickly to get so dear to him, laying a hand on his shoulder and staring deep into his eyes with that intense look on your face. That's when his grateful tranquility flutters into pure embarrassment.

With a growl, he stammers, eyes trying not to look into yours. His hands fly up as he tries to speak, "I- I thought... It- was," yet nothing of substance comes out.

"Hey? Andrew? What the hell--"

"D-Dont curse," He squeaks as his face grows impossibly red.

"Well, I'm going to need you to calm down," you say, reaching and grabbing his hand. A disgusting squelch bubbles out from where your hands meet as a stocky substance smeared into your palm. "What the hell!" You shriek as you pull your hand away.

Andrew's heart fails him as he screams out horrifically, grabbing your forearms before you can look at your palms. He pins your hands down to your side as he leans forward, his head bows to the floor, but you're painfully aware of how sticky your palms are, and how sticky your forearms now are too. How hot red his ears are.

"Oh mercy! M-Mercy! You must believe me- and do not hate me!" He blabbers.

"What are you smearing on me, Andrew?" It's your squeak now, your face flushing with confusion and embarrassment. You try to pull away and successfully slip from his grasp, but that cold slick makes a disgusting sound and smears worse down your arms. "Ew! God Andrew, what is that!" You howl as you rush back to your room.

"N-No! Let me wash your hands, close your eyes!" He nearly screams, and that's when panic truly settles in for you.

"No!" You rush into your bathroom as you hear Andrew enter and shut the door behind him. You flicker on the lights to your bathroom, as whatever it is begins to rapidly crust and dry on your arms. "What the hell!" You cursed. Your mind raced.

"Oh please! Please," you hear Andrew cry as he fits up a beat red hand to cover your eyes.

You screech and dodge it. "No more touching people, Andrew!" You cry and notice how his hands are crusting now, too.

"I'm s-sorry! A spirit overcame me and I lost to it," he whimpers impossibly broken. His face is impossibly red, as humiliated tears prick the corners of his eyes. As you look at him, it all slowly begins to click.

"Andrew. Please do not tell me this is y--"

Before the words could fly out, he squeaks and grabs your crusty arms, turning on the faucet to the sink and burying your hands into it. He mingles soap and water into his hands, building suds and before laying them onto your arms. He had a hand slung around you, trapping you between him and the faucet so you wouldn't run anywhere. "Just let me wash you," he whispers so lowly.

You swallow thickly, as arousal and curiosity blooms in your body. "Alright, but after this you'll have to tell me what happened. And without any of the fancy mumbo-jumbo spiritual bollocks," You hissed.

He squeaks, his voice budding soft, "D-Don't curse..." His head leans and rests its weight on yours.

You've never had Andrew this close to you before. The water was perfectly warm, his touch was gentle as he stroked your skin, not leaving any side of you sticky with his... Juices. His hands were much larger and gritty than yours, rugged with the callouses of a working man. Yet they turned pink under the warm water, reminiscent of how pale he was. And you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back, his nervous, humiliated breath against the side of your face, too focused on touching and massaging you than actually washing you off.

He cupped warm water and splashed away the suds, but still, he held you there, softly running his hands along your arm again.

You're so warm and soft.

"That's enough, Andrew," you scolded, aware of how intimate it all was.

"Ah," He squeaked as he turned the water off. And you took the liberty to free yourself. "Don't look at me," he whimpers.

You sigh deeply, staring at his shoes. "You walked your shoes into my Inn. And you smell like the cemetery. Take them off and go shower, there's a robe there that you could borrow," You grumble, watching as he instantly fumbles out of his boots. "I'm going to clean the floors."

"A-Alright!"

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The hot steam blew up from the shower head as he stood meekly in the porcelain bathtub. He raked his hands through his blond locks, feeling the hot water run down from his scalp to dribble at his feet. The bathroom at the Inn was much more modern than his smile water basin and shower pipe. He really could sit down in the bathtub if he wanted. Was he deserving to use your bathroom like this?

Oh God, he's in your bathroom, showering- naked.

The heat rushed to his senses as the reality of it all started to settle in. His face blew a stark red as he leaned against the tiled walls, shuffling a shaken breath. His forehead messed into the wall, as he leaned his palms against it.

He was touching himself to you.

That forgotten heat was still there, slowly creaking. His mind raced with it all, the idea, the sounds, the sights. He sucked in a breath one of his hands sneaking down to touch his half-sleeping cock again. It ruptured awake at the minuscule touch, aching into his palm. He swallowed thickly.

Were you naked under that robe?

He hissed at the thought, his eyes rolling back in delight, a subtle chuckle airing from his lips.

Your skin was so soft when he was touching you earlier. You were between him. He could smell you. You smelled of exotic fruits, the time the rich only seemed to know. His hand began to pump his length.

This was so evil of him.

He was letting his flesh win, but it felt so good. His hips bucked into his hand as your name moaned out from his lips. He was so hard he could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his palm. His cock weeping slick in a constant stream mingling in with the hot water and dribbling down the drain.

He wants to touch you like that, in different places too. It's so wrong but God, please, if you're watching him, just look away for tonight. He grips his base in a tough squeeze.

You're so amazing, so beautiful. Just let him touch you a bit. He swallows. "Please," he whimpers out into the air, his thrusting grew animalistic, the pleasure tingling in his back as his grunts grew loud.

He needs you, he doesn't care anymore, he needs you.

He's been needing you for so long.

When you first came here, he spotted you on his grocery trip. You were so stunning that the light seemed to cast a lovely halo on your sweet features. You were so stunning when you rushed to him, to compliment his looks, he moans out at the memory.

He's going to cum. Oh God-

A loud knock split his thoughts into two as he yelped, slapping his water-mixed slick-filled hand over his mouth. You call, "Andrew?"

He yelps again at the fluids on his chin, and at the alarming sound of your voice, "What's going on in there? You're taking a long time," you speak.

He frantically swipes his face and hand again, crying out, "I'll be out!" He immediately shuts the water off, hopping out and to the towels to wipe himself off.

"Andrew... I'm worried about you," you call, and his heart bursts.

He longs for you.

He stares at himself in the mirror, feeling his hard-on twitch.

"You know... It's quite terrifying for you to suddenly appear at my door. And frankly, you looked terrified, I thought... I thought someone had done something to you again..." You whisper, he can bearly hear you over his heart. His eyes flicker between the reflection of his eyes back to him, searching within himself.

He lays his palm against his heart.

"I don't like it when you censor yourself either. I hate it when you act like a holy fraud," You said. His hand clenches to a fist. Him, a fraud? "There's nothing in the world you could say that'd I hate. If there was, that's for me to decide. Not for you to decide for me... So tell me what's going on with you," you whisper into the wood of the door.

"I don't want you hurting. You're so sweet and kind. You're not a devil at all! And it pisses me the hell off whenever -" Your words get cut short, and the door opens, revealing Andrew, eyes lidded, wrapped up in a white rope.

He looks good in the color.

It's a shame he never wears it.

"Don't curse," he whispers, water dripping from his head to his shoulders. His chest heaving with every breath, desire flooding his gaze, lips cracked open breathlessly.

You're taken aback, your blinks are furious. "Sit," you murmur as you bring him to your bed. You both sit facing each other, your arms crossed.

You watch as his face heats up, as his eyes flicker up to see yours in a daze. You suck in an enamored breath, "Tell me."

"Y-You... You provoke my flesh," he whispers it earthly, leaning forward to you, placing a hand by your hip on the bed. Your eyes flicker between his, your blinks slow. "I... want you carnally. I desire you. I pray... N-No. I want you deeply." He's inching closer and closer with a sweet gentle voice, his other hand cupping your arm dear to him. Your hand finds his chest, glimpses of his pale skin underneath his robe. "I couldn't control myself tonight... I'm not sure I want to..."

"Andrew," you hush you between lidded eyes.

"I beg you, let me touch you, please," he's so close to you now, letting his nose brush against the tip of your ear, lips brushing against it for every word, breath mingling and fueling your desire.

You swallow so harshly, grabbing onto his shoulder for stability. He continues, "I can't help but think, isn't it so wrong for a man like me to want this? It's a wicked desire," you hear his confidence falter, and for some reason, it hurts more.

"Don't give up on yourself like that... Succumb to your desires, Andrew. Succumb," you whisper scantily, gripping chunks of his robe and slipping a leg on the bed to fully face him.

He groans viciously, the primal sound sending waves of pleasure through your body. You make the first move, licking a stripe up his neck, dragging the sharpness of your canines gently against his sensitive skin. He moans deeply, the beautifully breathy sound forces you to clench around nothing. It's been a while for you, traveling so much, you haven't had time to take care of yourself.

You lean up to suck briefly on his chin, fluttering your lips closer and closer to his own. But you stop just before to gaze into his eyes. He leans in for you, pressing your sweet lips together. His lips are deliciously delicate, the friction like a much-needed quench. It's barely long before the kiss deepens, as you feed him your tongue. Your soft muscle rushes in to meet his, as you swallow up his yelps and mewls.

His tongue gains its confidence, the shiveringly pleasing feeling of his foreign tastebuds sculpting up your hot mouth. You slurp on his sweet tongue. He grunts and bucks into nothing. Your lips pull away sloppily as he places a hand on you, pushing back onto the bed. "Mmh, wait let's get comfortable," you whisper.

He feels himself ache in his robe

He pulls away from you to follow you as the two of you shuffle to the heart of the smaller bed. "Lay down, I'm going to show you a few things," you tease.

"But I wanna' touch you," he begs into the air.

You shiver intensely at the sound.

"You will," you press him back into the bed, his head resting on his pillows.

He stares at you in disbelief and wonder, the cutest expression dotting his face. You brush his hair out of his face, smiling at his surprise. He's hiding a strong jaw beneath that meek bang, hid beautiful sculpted nose leading to two budding, pink tulips. You shuffle in between his legs, pulling the cord to his rope. His breath hitches, his chest rising and falling with a vigor to run a marathon.

The question pops into your mind as you pull back part of his robe to reveal his lovely chest. "When's the last time you've ever touched yourself, Kriess," you mumble.

"Uh... I suppose... I might have been fourteen," he blinks.

You giggle in disbelief, "Ten years? What a good boy you are. So holy," you hush.

He grunts viciously, "P-Please stop. Just touch me, touch me... Touch me..." He begs, shutting his eyes weakly.

You pull back his robe fully, flashing his wonderfully tone body to you. He was so muscular, so big in stature - the true power of a grave keeper. Your hands tail down his body to his hip, your eyes immediately shifting to toggle the incredibly pink cock of his. His tip was a bullied red as he pulled and twitched into the air. Dribbles of pre-cum touched his belly, and the wet scene was erotically sloppy. He was leaking like a faucet, and it sent your organs aflame.

You groaned at the sight, "So wet for me, Andrew. I'm scared I'll get you pregnant," you tease.

A humiliated squeak flies from his lips, "I-I- I'm sorry. I'm not so s-sure as to how you'd be able to--" but you wouldn't let him continue his lowly apologies as you bent over and pressed a deep kiss into the base of his needy cock.

He moans out into the open, his hands instantly flying to entangle themselves in your hair. You lick up a stripe to his tip, never breaking your stare at his gorgeous face. You pull back, slipping your robe off tantalizingly slow, watching as he whimpers. He gasped at your sweet body, his cock twitching to be touched more.

You gave him something to look at. You smirked.

You leaned down back to his pretty dick, grabbing it at the base and taking the tip into your hot mouth. He was average in length but thick as it filled your mouth. You greedily slurped up his runny juices, closing your eyes with a content sigh as you guided him deeper and deeper into your mouth. His hands clenched chunks of your hair.

The feeling of him entering your mouth was euphoric, as his sweet gasps and moans filtered the air. The sounds were on the quieter side but were sharp and filled with bliss. He chuckled out a delighted sound, his chest heaving as you began to suck.

You twirled your tongue at his piping-hot muscle, hollowing your cheeks and drinking him up. He moaned sweetly into the air, as his legs flew up on each side of you. You bobbed on him, carefully massaging all that you couldn't reach with your hand, lapping him up as if you were thirsty.

"Oh God!" He wailed. His grip grew blood-hot on your hair, the feeling enough for you hiss. You bobbed him viciously in retaliation, the overstimulation forcing his head to lean back. "C-Can't. Can't..." He groaned, he bucked deep into your mouth, gagging you as he held you there with his large fists.

He trusted deep into you, his back arching off the bed, his sounds vulgar and pleading. "F-Fuck, fuck. Please, please, please," he cried out a mantra of fucked out whimpers, riding his high at your expense. His voice picked up strongly, swear dipping down his forehead.

With one final buck into the back of your throat, Andrew pulled out, releasing into the hot crevice of your mouth, his hands releasing you, as they flopped to the side. His rugged fulfilled groans filled the air.

You slipped off him, coughing as you gagged on the intense mixture of your saliva and his slick. "I'm so sorry," you heard him cry as you wiped your lips.

You giggled tiredly, your voice hoarsely adjusting back to the feeling of a dick-free throat. "You're so lovely, 'drew," you leaned up to kiss his lips. The lingering taste of himself meeting him.

You redirected his hands to your chest, and greedily, he squeezed and tugged at anything he could, breaking the kiss so his eyes could oggle you with the passion of a starved man.

His fingers prodded at your nipples until they were hard, then they slipped down your body, feeling the curve of your belly. He instantly shot up as his hand reached down to cup your sex. You giggled out an estranged moan, reaching up to embrace him over his shoulders. "You're so needy," you tried to deflect, pulling your sex away from him.

"Please, jus- please lemme' touch you." He cries out like it pains him.

He the two of you up, not even needing an answer as he pulls you into his lap.

You whimper, leaning into his shoulder as his fingers massage your sex, his tongue frantically passionate. You're deliciously warm to him, and you feel your sex begin to slick his hand. He laughs blissfully at the feeling. The sound of it is soft and filled with childish delight as you rock into him. He speeds up his barrage of you, the friction causing you to rock into his hands, lapping at his neck with your tongue like a dog. Your sex feels painfully hot and messy as you buck into him like a wild animal.

You feel your hole begin to ache, as you push all the way into him, redirecting his hands to touch the puckering hole. "In there," he squeaks suddenly, but you leave no room as you grind down into him.

"Andrew, I was suppose to be devouring you," you whined.

"Haha, it's alright. We can try again later," he twists to see your face, pressing a loving peck against your lips. You blink in shock, his gaze filled with gentleness.

"I haven't had anything up there in a very long while," you whisper into his lips.

"Oh golly..."

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You arch into his fingers, gripping chunks of the bedsheets. Andrew has you laid out beneath him, his thick, burly fingers playing in your thick walls. You huff into him, his fingers themselves coated in a dangerous mixture of your slick, his cum, and his spit. He's knuckle deep within you, his middle and ring finger plunging into you passionately.

His gaze never left your figure, not even for a second, as he drank up the sight of your trembling form. He leans down between your legs, planting a kiss on your sex the way he's seen you done his mere moments prior. "Andrew," you cry with all your might.

"You're so aroused... Am I that tempting to you?" He purrs, his eyes lidded, hair tucked behind his ear. He's gotten too confident.

You couldn't deny him for a second, "Mmhm, yes, Andrew."

He shudders, his name sounds so good from your lips.

He can't take it anymore.

He slips his finger out of your hole, grabbing himself as he lines up to fit inside. His tip bulged against your entrance, and you puckered kisses against the weeping muscle. He pressed against you, his head breaching into your body.

"Aah! Oh," you hissed. Peeking out from closed eyes, Andrew's face was tensed tight. His lips were glued, his eyes lidded, eyebrows furrowed and his cheeks were filled with air. His strong hands reached and grabbed your hips, squeezing so hard it stung deliciously. The familiar subtle burn of stretching as he pushed himself halfway in.

It was finally then did he released his first moans, the sound was strained and needy, his mind held by the single thread that he should hold himself back.

But by the time you sink into his base, your hot, warm, slicked-up insides are screaming at his senses. He lost all sorts of sensitivity. "Fuck," He cried, his voice burly, as he began to pump at a decent pace.

His head grew heavy as he plummeted onto his hands on top of you, his expression erotic. His toned pale body, his strong arms on each side of your head, his eyes that briefly rolled to the back of his head. "Oh, god," he groaned out. The sound fighting against the shameful sounds of your sexes bumping.

His moans abruptly peak again, his eyes rolling back with stuttering hips. Suddenly an abruption of cum spills into you, making you shudder an arch. "S-Sorry, tryna' hold back... Jus' hold on a bit more," he moans, speech slurred, drunk off your goodness. He was still hard after cumming inside you.

He pulls out slowly, all the way down to the head before plunging right in, causing you to cry and wrap your legs around his waist. You were extra slick now, with how his cock fed you more of his juices. His grip on your hips was intense as he buried his head into your shoulder, thrusting quicker as the heaving sensation of you eating up his cock overtook him.

Every sight, every smell, every taste and touch from you, sent him teetering over the edge. This was so dirty, so vulgar, so shameful, that it made his hips stutter in spiteful bliss. Like an animal, he pumped into you at the pace he liked the most, fueled by your irregular, overstimulated moans that rewarded him. You wrapped your arms around him in the tango, burying your nails into his skin as he hit your sweet spot, your jaw falling slack in disbelief.

He was so thick, so filling. Your belly was swarming in satisfaction, feeling all of your inside move and squirm to his every wild buck. He pulled out of your shoulder and pinned your head between him again. His reddish, blueish eyes found you like a greedy hawk. He was completely fucked out, staring down deep into your eyes, not looking away for a second, daring you to keep the gaze.

You whimpered and cried, holding onto his forearms, squeezing and jerking around his cock. He grunted deeply, etches of a delighted smile ghosting his fucked out expression. He was glistening with sweat, a non-stop pent-up sex-machine.

You growled in fear, feeling your orgasm overtake you. You arched down deep into his body, as you spilled out, crying out a useless, "An-Andreew," that fell on deaf ears.

"Please, p-please, please, G-God... Just a little more," he whispers to you. He presses his kisses on your cheek. But truly, he's unsure of who he's calling out to anymore.

He slows for your orgasm, grinding on you wildly, riding out your high as your head collapses back on the pillow.

He pulls out and turns you on your side, grabbing one of your legs and hooking it over his shoulder. "Just a little more, please," he cries, he's still hard, still twitching. He peppers sweet kisses on your eyelids, nuzzling his nose into your warmth.

"F-Fine, Andrew. Don't make me say it," you stutter, your face heating in this embarrassing position.

He leans to suckle on your collarbone, distracting you almost until you feel his abrasive length slip into your body again. You mewl out, listening to his shaky breath deep in your ears. He rests his head against the side of yours, your knee hitting your shoulder. "Y-You're very flexible," he praises with a giggle, it almost soothes the anger you feel at his wildness.

You can't even retaliate when he begins to thrust slower, as his wandering lips slip around to pepper kisses on your earlobe, your jawline, your neck, and even on the back of your leg. Your eyes roll at the tantalizingly slow thrusts, all paired with the sweet kisses. He gently cups your chin, turning you to face him as he leaves an earnest peck on your lips. "I love you," he whines childishly.

You giggle in surprise, "I know. I love you e-even more, Kriess," you manage between your pants.

"Oh, God," he whispers, bucking into you with a stutter. You gasp in shock, overstimulation brimming through your body.

"Don't cur- urse," you somehow manage out, grabbing chunks of the bedsheets.

He laughs lazily and begins to pump up the pace, leaning up and fucking into you fervently. You squeeze down on him at the sudden abrasiveness, arching and crying out with all of your body.

The wooden bed creaks, a sound that causes Kreiss' breath to hitch. A sound so dangerous you could see the thought process behind it. He pulls almost out and slams deeply into you again, your toes curling painfully- and yet to your dismay, the bed creeks again.

He laughs blissfully again, stuttering out between moans, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," he grunts, pistoning into you roughly, desperate to hear the animalistic creaking of the beneath you too. You cry out in overstimulation, your own orgasm building up, ready to spike.

"Please, pleugh... God- gonna... Oh!" A shiver overtakes him as his thrusts get sloppy and stuttering, as you squeeze and milk him of everything he has, your own high reaches its peak at the same time you're bursting with cum deep inside you, as Andrew thrusts into his base and grinds deeply against you, forcing you into an intense orgasm. "C-Cummin' cah..." You watch as sporadic twitch trails from his back, down his arms, and sparks into his fingertips.

His face is completely fucked out, his jaw relaxed, eyes rolled up to the heavens still in prayer. He finally, sweaty, heaving, pulls out of you, his penis going completely soft.

You've never been a religious person, but seeing him finally soft almost turned you into one. You were saved!

You dropped your head back onto the pillow your leg slipping off him as falls back onto his ass. You stare at the wall as you catch your breath, the room suddenly aware of how it smells like sweat and fluids. His cumming so much within you is going to be a problem, but a problem for later you.

Andrew weakly reaches and pats your ankle, and you turn to gaze at him. He's smiling panting out, pure joy bursting on his sweet face. You knew you were going to be so sore, and so tired in the morning but. It was hard to stay mad at a face like that.

He crawls over to you, sitting next to you as he rolls you onto your back. His fingers subconsciously rub circles into your belly as he mutters, "That was heavenly..." He hushes into your lips as he kisses them sweetly.

"Mmh... Andrew," you mutter.

He giggles ecstatically, leaning down and placing a hand on each side of you. He kisses up and down your neck dearly.

"I want to do this with you more," he mutters shyly in that familiar, raspy, airy tone.

And just like that, you were no longer religious.

"Please God save me," You cry playfully.

"Don't curse," he giggles into your neck.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Chapter 7 - Betrothed

[Also Available on AO3]

Masterlist

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (Price POV)

Summary: The final chapter. Domestic bliss occurs for the couple after John's proposal. Couch sex with feelings and the morning after.

Word count: 3.4 K

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Minors DNI - Engagement, Established Relationship, Swearing, John Price POV, Domestic fluff, Porn with feelings

A/N: this is the next fic in the timeline of Rory and Price's relationship, picking up right after the ending of "Shadow Dance". Rory Sinclair is a Lieutenant in the 141 who has been in a committed, long term relationship (albeit a secret one - at least from higher ups) with the Captain for 5 years

Rory and Price will return in "My Head is Bloodied, But Unbowed" the MW3 canon rework fic

January 17, 2023 - London, UK

Neither can be bothered to turn on the lights once the formality of the front door being locked is completed, there's enough light streaming in from the windows with the lamps outside reflecting off the snow for them to find their way. Boots are kicked off haphazardly and coats tossed to the floor in a damp pile of rapidly melting snow as the warmth of the townhouse's interior wraps around them.

Home. Together.

Connected. One.

The stairs up to their bedroom is a feat that they have no interest in right now, bodies entwined and hands working on removing clothing at a brisk speed. John gives a quick nod upwards only to be met by her discouraging shove towards the french doors leading into the living room. It's just as inviting in any case, but especially as the amorous heat begins to boil over between them and jumpers are stripped away to reveal bare flesh, left in a crumpled mess at the threshold.

Tugging the beanie from his head, John flings it in a random direction over the back of the couch before tossing Rory down onto the cushions, her body bouncing gently with the gentle creak of springs, legs hanging over the armrest and spread to allow him to take his position at the juncture of her thighs. He stops, taking a moment to catch his breath, to regain his focus while the world feels like it's fading away from his grasp right along with his reason. Restoring some semblance of steadiness, his hands roam up her thighs and he grounds himself, finding his balance with her. This body, this fucking temple, has been branded into his heart and his head and Rory is the deity he confesses his every sin to, seeking solace within the ring of her accepting arms.

The way her chest rises and falls, the skin turning dusky, color crawling up her throat, she's flooded with blood, with desire — and it's for him. Christ, that's a powerful feeling that scrambles the wiring of his brain, coherent thought gone by the wayside. His every impulse rings through his head like a screaming alarm. His heart races, mind only on one thing. Fuck control, it's her. Only her.

Fumbling with the buckle of Rory's belt, the rapid pulse of his blood thrums through his veins. Positively fucking singing. Elated and about to cum in his pants if he doesn't hurry up and get her out of those bloody painted on skinny jeans.

He's past the point of being gentle as he tears her jeans down her legs and throws them behind him, the whisper of material skidding against the wood floor lost in the jumble of groans and panted breaths as Rory grips him by the hair and tugs him into a heated kiss marked by the slide of slick, silken tongues. Sparks flare across his skin as her touch travels over his body, caressing hard pecs and soft tummy with the tender glide of her nails scratching lines down to the waistband of his jeans. Marveling momentarily at how well-practiced her movements are, fluid as she slides the leather of his belt through the metal clasp with the same ease as loading a weapon.

The button pops, the fly is pulled, and he's finally free.

Diving in headfirst, a plan of attack firmly set in his mind, his lips travel down her neck, teeth grazing over her collarbone, mouth sucking at the soft flesh of her breasts — her heart hammering against her ribs every step of the way. Lifting her hips, peeling the thin cotton of her knickers off, John is immediately graced by the intoxicating perfume of her arousal and the pink petals that invite this pollinator in every chance he gets. He breathes deep, hands twitching with the need to touch, mouth watering. The couch doesn't offer him as much space to work, he has to be economic about what positions he chooses, but without a word spoken between them except breathy moans and throaty growls, she's already pulling her legs up towards herself, knees pressing against the swells of her chest and opening herself to him — if he dies right now, he's already sure he's been to heaven.

Arms hooked under her knees, sinking into her warmth, his eyes roll back into his head and he chokes back the pleasure that aches to spill from his lungs until little more than a deep grunt escapes between gritted teeth. Her cry as he fills her, stretches her around the shape of him, is the holiest hymn, a psalm whose lyrics are etched into his being as she rakes her nails down his back, scoring it into his skin. John has never believed in God, always living by the understanding that a man makes his own way, putting his faith in himself and the skills of those he keeps around him, but being wrapped up in Rory has the capability of stoking his piety. A certainty roaring to life that this is the work of something greater than himself and that she is the very emissary of it's will, it's hand on his fate working through her.

She's warm and soft, eyes shining sweetly up at him. His good girl. Gazes locked, moving in perfect synchronicity. He can see the future in those bright, soulful hazel eyes. Can see her at his side come what may. Can see his every hope and dream coming true as he rocks into her welcoming form. Retreating, returning. Never far from her.

Her back arches, fingers splayed against his cheeks as she hisses and sighs. "I love you"s tumble from her lips like a prayer, an angel's choir, a chorus in his head that nearly sends him over the edge.

"Oh, Christ. I love you too, sweetheart," he mumbles, having to rest his sweat-slicked forehead against her shoulder, reining in his breath, in the fever that sweeps through him like holy fire. He's not a good man, he's never been one, not really. But fuck, for her, for her he'd give his all. He'd rake himself across hot coals, sacrifice his own sanity, forsake every vice, anything to keep her just like this.

Keep her his.

She grips his nape and whispers in his ear about how he's the only one for her, "the love of her life", and a shiver courses down his spine and spreads to every extremity. He can't escape this, doesn't want to, being driven mad over this stunning woman is his recompense for a life where career and duty came first and everything else fell by the wayside, a life of toil and naught else to show for it. Accolades and commendations don't count for much when everything else is empty, a shell of a life now filled to brimming with a golden ichor of worth.

Her high-pitched, breathy mewls of encouragement, of pleasure, break down the barriers of his mind and his unwavering mastery of it and the world in his iron grip, snapping like a safety cord pulled too tight. Chest pressing to hers, shapely legs bowed out around him, sticky sweat adheres their flesh together in wondrous fusion that has left his muscles aching, and his lungs breathless. Left with nothing else to do but nuzzle into the crook of her neck as he melts into a boneless heap against her.

"Fuckin' hell, love," he drawls, and his hands can't seem to help but roam over curves and plateaus. Soft handfuls and taut skin that beg to be kneaded, appreciated. Desired, down to the very cells that worked together to create this incredible creature who lays cocooned in his arms.

She giggles, her breath rustling against the shaggy whiskers of his beard, a gentle breeze tickling his neck. "That good, eh?"

Groaning, he has just enough strength in his arms not to crush her petite frame trapped beneath his weight. "You've no bloody idea, my girl." Lifting his head, he looks down at her, at the mussed hair, dewy skin, and the plump, kiss-bruised lips, and a lazy smile spreads across his own. "You've no idea what you do t' me."

"Well," she says, stroking his cheek, her stare hazy and tender, "I've got all the time in the world to find that out, don't I?" She smirks and nudges his nose with hers. "And you know how exceedingly brilliant I am at extracting the truth."

"Do I ever." His grin grows, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he kisses her cheek. Crawling back to lean into the opposite corner of the couch, the hair on his abdomen drenched with sweat, he spreads his legs and drapes an arm over the back of the couch. John's head falls back, staring at the ceiling as he catches his breath, chest heaving, working for every inhale and exhale.

With a faint grunt of exertion, she flops over to rest her head on his thigh, gazing up at him. "I still almost can't believe it, you know?" Rory murmurs, placing her hand that glistens with the engagement ring on his sternum. "You and me, finally tying the knot soon."

Brows flicking up, he presses his chin to his chest, looking down at the glint of his mother's ring, and he covers her hand with his own, pressing her palm more firmly against him. "No one else I'd rather be doin' this with 'sides you."

"The feeling is very mutual, my darling."

The glow of the outside world falls upon her, but its no comparison to the way she shines in his eyes. This woman has been his greatest challenge. She had promised that winning her heart would be one, and he had set his focus on her with all the fierce intent he had used throughout his entire career. Persistent, diligent, anticipating every fork in the road, adapting as needed, and now here they were. A ring on her finger, their lives intimately intertwined, there was no turning back now — at least as far as he was concerned. She was it. Even if he lost everything else, so long as he had her, nothing else mattered.

A mist climbs towards the sky as the sun beats down upon the fresh fallen snow from the night before, evaporating the glittering pack with beaming rays. The steady dripping of the melted snow falling from the tree branches outside punctuates the new day along with the creaking floorboards as the happy couple begin to stir. Light fills the kitchen, flooding in from the glass doors that lead out into the garden. Blissful domesticity is a rare treasure in John's life, spending more time on bases and out in the field than he ever does at home, so when given the chance to appreciate what he has here, he holds it tight with a ruthless grip that refuses to ever let go.

Seeing Rory dressed in little more than a loose white tank top and a thong is one of his favorite sights in the world, and she is treating him to it now. Her hair rumpled and messy, the glorious bedhead of a woman who had a proper night's kip wrapped up in his arms. She starts filling the kettle with water at the sink to put it on to boil for the morning tea, once again humming to herself. She's happy. Truly.

“On your six,” John murmurs, nuzzling into her neck, smirking against her skin as he gives her arse cheek a squeeze, feeling the soft flesh in his grip.

Laughing, she playfully swats his hand away before reaching up to grab two mugs from the cupboard above the kitchen island. His eyes drawn to the peek of skin that appears between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her knickers. His Rory was a sight to behold, and this morning, more than any other now that she was wearing the ring, had him feeling proud as a peacock that she was his. She, Lieutenant Rory Sinclair, one of the best soldiers he'd ever served with, was his soon-to-be-wife.

“Allow me, darlin’,” he says all too smugly, stretching up behind her and bouncing on his heels, giving his hips a slight thrust in her backside, sinking gently into the cleft as he grabs the mugs for her.

The gentle clink of ceramic hitting granite counter top blends with the lilt of Rory's giggle as she's sandwiched between the hard surface and his body. Her laugh only grows as his arms wrap around her waist and he holds her tight. "Cheeky beggar," she says in a gentle rebuke of his advances.

Squeezing her back into his chest, the gentle curve of her lower back molds to his pelvis. “Can you blame me?” he purrs in her ear. “You'd think a bastard like me would've asked a sweet girl like you t' marry me sooner, eh?” he jokes, his beard rasping over her sensitive neck.

"I appreciate that you took your time." Her arms wrap over his as he holds her tight, keeping him firmly locked around her. "I'm sure you thought long and hard about it."

"Tha' I did. Had me sweatin' bullets more than even my toughest op."

She gazes up at him, dimples carved into her cheeks. "It was worth it though, yeah?"

"Was it ever," he says softly. Carding his fingers through her tousled waves, a firm kiss is pressed to her forehead.

John had never thought that he, of all people, would ever be afforded a life like this with a woman as incredible as her. A woman, who despite being his opposite in so many ways — ways that counted, that made her better than he could ever hope to be — filled in all the spaces he knew were missing. Hardened by life, she gave him soft, tender affection. Gallows humor and a dry wit to handle the worst of what he had seen, she brought her sweet laugh and a smile that lit more than a room. His reliance on cold, calculating logic that barreled through whatever stood in his way, met by her compassion, her moral compass.

Forcing himself to extricate from her touch as the kettle begins to whistle, he grabs a frying pan from the rack. "I'm thinkin' full English f'my girl, yeah? You want sausage or bacon?"

"Both."

"Fuck me." His brows lift and the lines of his forehead become deep trenches as his eyes go wide. "You've got quite the appetite on ya."

"You put it there," she says, glancing back at him as she prepares their mugs of tea.

A low, rumbling chuckle builds in his chest, unable to deny the truth. "Red-handed, sweetheart," he croons, leaning over to give her a quick peck.

He moves to the fridge, resting a hand on top of the door as he opens it and leans in, poking through the recent groceries she's bought. His eyes scan the contents as the chill cools his skin. It doesn't take long for him to collect what's needed in his arms: bacon, sausage, eggs, tomato, brown sauce, butter, and the milk for tea.

"I must say," she starts, "You're in quite a good mood this morning, usually you're all grumbles. A proper grumpy bear."

He gruffs at her comment, a quiet growl caught in the back of his throat as he places the ingredients down on the counter and waits to hear the sizzle of the ready pan.

"See."

The cheek on her never ceases to amaze him, the way she can make light of nearly anything and easily slips into teasing when most people wouldn't dare poke the so-called "bear" she refers to him by. It's refreshing not to be bound by the rigidity of rank, to have someone who looks at him without a hint of intimidation, who sees him as only the man that he is and not the title. She can so easily navigate when to follow an order and when to bring him back down to earth. It's why he's so drawn to her. He's loathe to admit that even now, while she's being playful about his surly attitude, that he's fond of it coming from her — anyone else and he'd be forced to tear into them. In her case, the worst punishment she gets is a heavy hand brought down to meet her rump, squeezing the firm cheek for good measure.

Rory snorts out a laugh and her attention momentarily flickers down to where his hand is attached to her backside before she looks back up at him with a lifted brow. "You checking if I'm still all there?"

"Didn't manhandle you that much last night," he mutters, placing the milk carton down beside her.

A skeptical hum vibrates from her as she unfolds the flaps and begins to pour the preferred amount of dairy into each of their mugs. "Quite sure the hickeys on my neck would beg to differ, and considering the fact we have a briefing to get to tomorrow you best hope they fade well enough to be covered by makeup."

His gaze holds on her neck from under his heavy brow for a moment before watching as she stirs the spoon in the mug that's a darker shade than the other. "No fan of Gaz and Soap takin' the piss out of ya? Welcome to my world, darlin'."

"Speaking of… " She passes him the tea she's just finished preparing. "Have the lads been told already about our situation?"

"I warned them it was happenin', yeah." Leaning back against the counter, John takes a sip of his tea and sighs. She makes a bloody good cuppa, learned exactly the way he likes it after the first month of dating. All her skills of observation, usually used to find a weakness in the enemy, were more than able to be tailored to the domestic.

"And?"

"And what?" The mug is held inches from his mouth as he's about to take another sip for his parched throat.

"Were they surprised?" Her brow lifts, reaching for the package of bacon beside him and opening it using the kitchen scissors with a few precise snips.

"Hardly." He takes another sip and places the mug down on the counter before meticulously placing the strips of bacon into the cast iron pan to get the perfect fry. "Soap's already askin' to play DJ at the weddin'."

Shooting her a glance it's easy to see she's no fan of that idea. Rory might wear a good poker face out in the field, but she's no stranger to wearing her heart on her sleeve with him. A sneer curls her upper lip and she rests against the counter with her arms crossed.

"I do not want him making any playlists for our wedding, I refuse to have even the slightest chance of "Goodbye Horses" showing up again." Snatching up her mug, she blows away the steam and then takes a sip. "He can claim its because I like New Wave as much as he wants, but I am not having even the thought of Buffalo Bill anywhere near the happiest day of our lives."

John is quick to give her a curt nod, accepting her command. "I'll let 'im know."

"You better."

The sharp look she gives him over the rim of her mug is one he knows well, it's one Rory gives him all too readily. The silent point made that he can't ignore, a form of communication all it's own that proves she's drawing a line in the sand. Unlike his own reaction to either bark or step into someone's personal space to break them and get the upper hand, it's the lack of words that makes her piercing, fiery glare all the more powerful. Leaving a man unnerved facing down the firing line of soft eyes turned steely.

He grunts in agreement and grabs the spatula to flip the bacon, a smirk curling his lips as lithe arms coil around him from behind his back and plush lips press to the line of his spine. Her body heat floods his system, radiating from her in a gentle caress on his skin, warmer than the sun that fills the room. "Mr. and Mrs. Price," she murmurs, nuzzling into the space between his shoulder blades. "Has a bloody good ring to it."

"It does."

"I love you, my darling," she whispers, and her breath ghosts softly over his skin, causing the fine hairs it stirs to stand on end, and a shudder to gently course down his back.

"Love you too, my girl."

np tagging: @taciturntraveller @voidika @elligatorrex @statichvm @d-esmond (sorry for the two tags in one day)

[papacopia-crucified]

I am so sorry in advance!!!

I just wrote a crack!fic about a cup of coffee and Terzito… I am so so so sorry!

Also you can find this in Ao3

FAPPuchino 💦

Warnings: JIZZ!, Terzo making some milk for you, 18+, a nice cup of coffee with Terzo’s load, nice…

☕️☕️☕️

It was another morning, another boring morning at the Ministry… but today you get to wake up by your lover's side, wo was of course the one and only Papa Terzo.

The small satanic pope was still sleeping peacefully, not even mind that it was already morning… you cannot help but to look at his sleeping form in awe.

Some time later you decided to sleep again, next to Terzo as you knew how he liked to sleep in when it was the weekend. As soon as you fall asleep, Terzo was waking up, stretching his limbs and yawning loudly, but it wasn’t enough to wake you up from your peaceful sleep.

He kissed her forehead as he usually did and slowly got out of bed, from next to you.

You two had made an agreement, If one of you wakes up first had to make coffee in the morning. So Terzo dressed up and made his way into the bathroom to freshen up a bit before he'll go and make some coffee for both of you. At the kitchen he made his time tomato a delicious coffee for you. He loved to pamper you, make you feel like a queen so he did everything in his power to satisfy your needs, in and out of the bedroom.

There were two cups of boiling hot water on the kitchen counter, as Terzo usually drank his coffee without milk and just one sugar, yet you drink yours with sugar and milk.

But just as Tero opened the fridge to grab the milk, he saw that there's no milk left.

"Huh? No milk? But Cara mia would never drive her coffee without milk..." Said Terzo out loud as he pondered about what to do. Eventually one of the Siblings of Sin told Terzo that the Ministry is all out of milk and they'll go and buy a large batch later....

Terzo was kinda dumbfounded about what he should do at this point..........then he had an idea...

He grabbed the two cups and made his way back into your shared bedroom and slowly placed your cup of coffee down on your nightstand, carefully not to make any noise..

"Well.....she never complained about *My Milk* so......why not? I am pretty sure she won't even realise it....right?"

Terzo pulled down his boxers, revealing his half hard cock and wrapped his hand around it gently. He needed to suppress his meanings to not to wake you up. His hand moved in a slow and gentle manner as his cock became fully erect now, the tip was red and glistened with pre-cum. He closed his eyes and imagined all sorts of naughty and dirty things you two did together, his mind was slowly getting into a frenzy, his hand was moving faster now, much faster as he imagined that it was your pussy or mouth that's pleasuring him. Small grunts and moans left his mouth and he immediately covered it with his other hand. His whole body was sweating now, but at the meantime you were peacefully sleeping on your shared bed while Terzo tried to milk himself, for your sake..

He was kinda tempted to come inside your mouth cause it was slightly agape but then shook his head and concentrated at task at hand. He came.....hard and made sure to come into the coffee cup, his moans filled the bedroom and you started to stir a little bit, which made Terzo panic and he immediately cleaned himself up.

Right after that, he decided to wake you up, sat down at your side on the edge of the bed and kissed your forehead.

"Buongiorno, amore mio. Wake up....I have your coffee.." He kissed your lips and it immediately woke you up.

"Good morning handsome... did you say coffee?" You asked excitedly and sat up on the bed, Terzo offered you your coffee cup, you stirred it but didn't even look down at it, but let me tell you.....it contained a lot of "Terzo milk"... :O... After you stirred it up, brought it to your lips and then took a huge sip from it and swallowed it.... thats when you realised that there was something.....wrong who your coffee. Terzo saw your expression of surprise and decided to ask.

"What's wrong, Cara mia?"

This coffee tastes.....funny...."

"Ehh,,,,funny you say..."

You started to suspect something and looked down at the coffee in the cup. Your expression was somewhat horrified..

"What type of milk....is this Terzo?"

"Milk?? What milk?" Asked Terzo and tried to get out of the conversation as soon as possible. His cheeks were rosy red and even avoided to make eye contact with you. You looked down at your coffee again and then.....

"DID YOU CUM INSIDE MY COFFEE CUP???" You asked in a surprised tone

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!!! The Ministry ran out if milk and—" you cut him off.

"And you thought that ill never realise that its your cum instead of milk in here?? seriously are you out of your mind?"

"I am sorry, amore....." But before Terzo could finish his sentence you drank all of your coffee and didn't even flinch, Terzo's eyes widened in surprise.

"It wasn't that bad, but.....next time just dont make me coffee at all if there's no milk..." You placed down the coffee cup on your nightstand

"I cannot promise..." Winked Terzo and kissed you.

[idiotcurls]

For Auld Long Syne, My Dear

Chapter Two: Dinner

Chapter one is here. The whole thing on AO3 is here.   After Steve finally arrived to the New Year’s Party at the Byers-Hopper house, the gang is sitting at the dinner table, bantering, eating and drinking. Nancy and Robin are forcing Hopper into a speech, which he hates but reluctantly accepts.  Mike and Will have some sort of issue with eachother and are making it everyones problem. When emotions boil over, Steve goes into mum mode and Eddie finds himself as a bigger brother figure to Mike.  Pairing: StevexEddie but they are idiots, WillxMike but they don’t know that yet, established NancyxRobin, platonic Stobin d’uh

Tags: slow burn, found family, post vecna world, dealing with trauma, coming of age, hurt/comfort, eddie is alive obviously The kitchen is filled with laughter and conversation. Plates are empty, bellies are full. Steve is sat next to Joyce and Jonathan, his thumb in a brand new band-aid, provided by Joyce. He had gotten his glasses from the car earlier too, to avoid more mishaps like this.

During dinner, Steve politely reminded Hopper that he wasn't becoming a teacher, but a guidance councilor again, when he asked how the studying was coming along.

That concept was foreign to Hop, but Steve had no problem explaining it all over, every time they met, even though he knew Hop would keep on calling him 'Teach'. The kids were bickering, Dustin screeched about something Max had said. Steve rolls his eyes but was in all good spirits. He was happy to see them laugh. Glances between him and Eddie were exchanged during the dinner.

Eddie basically inhaled Joyce's Lasagne. When she got up to put a third load of Lasagne on his dish he almost didn't dare to decline.

„You will make the boy explode, Joyce.“ Hopper intervened. „Oh well, they're still growing.“, she deflected. „That is a grown man.“, he pointed at Eddie with his fork. „I once arrested him.“ Eddie seemed to flinch. „That was a long time ago!“ Eddie added quickly, looking between Steve and Joyce. “That's probably like... statue-barred or something.”

Eddie being so damn lovely with Joyce and Hopper made Steve's heart feel warm. He acted like a polite son in law, trying really hard to impress some girl's parents. Steve swallowed hard. 

“Well, I think by now you can say, he redeemed himself, don't you think?“ Joyce reached across the table to give Eddie's hand a quick, affectionate squeeze and he froze for a second there. He just nodded. “Th-thanks, yeah.”Jonathan sighed. 

„I think we all suffered 3 times worth all of our respective sins.“ Nancy gave Jonathan a serious side eye.

„Since when do you believe in the concept of sin?“, she asked.Jonathan shrugged. „Argyle's mum is italian catholic. It comes up in conversation.“ Robin made a 'uh huh?' sound, while she looked into her glass of orange juice, but didn't dig deeper into the topic. 

“Speaking of, where is Argyle?”Jonathan apparently just came back from a short holiday in California, where he stayed with Argyle, his mum and his abuelita. Steve noticed he was tan. For Jonathan at least. He looked happy and healthy.

“They would kill him, if he wasn't at home for the holidays.”, Jonathan explained. “But he doesn't seem to mind that, at all. He likes being molly coddled by them.” Jonathan looked into the middle distance. Steve couldn't help but wonder, what Argyle's family dynamics were like. And why they made Jonathan weary.

Speaking of sins, Steve looked over to Eddie. He looked down on his band-aided finger and back at him. He watched him smile while listening to conversations on the table. He didn't talk too much, almost seemed shy. Steve would have never thought, that a family dinner (of sorts) was the one thing that made Eddie shut up. 

Steve's eyes got stuck on Eddies lips, on his dimples, that appeared when he smiled like that. There was Eddie's sharp jaw line, in contrast to his big brown eyes, that searched everybody's faces with curiosity. Sometimes he added insightful comments. This time about Catholicism. How can one person be so smart and so bad at school at the same time?

But the school system made Steve feel less than as well. He still sometimes thought he was dumb. And in Eddie's case, maybe the teachers just didn't like him, or had preconceived notions. He wore being an outcast well. But Steve sometimes wondered, if it came to him that easy. The snarky comments, the no fucks given attitude.

It must have been lonely behind that mask in school. But it was a mask and a loneliness Steve knew too. The mask just had a different colour. Steve promised to himself, that he would never treat any of his kids like this. Once he got through the course. Once he was a guidance councilor. It was either that, or becoming a hairdresser. He chuckled to himself, imagining doing Eddie's hair in a salon.

On the other side of the table, Nancy and Robin whispered something, they seemed to hatch out some sort of scheme, he saw it in their eyes. That always rang an alarm bell in Steve's head, so he tried to take his eyes off Eddie and watch out for those two agents of chaos. 

For some reason Robin brought out a more playful, joyous side in Nancy. He loved their dynamics, even thought, truth be told, sometimes they got on his nerves. But this light-hearted Nancy, he hasn't seen that version of her since before Barb died. Not with him and not with Jonathan. So he was grateful.

Mike seemed to chew El's ears off about a topic she didn't seem to be interested in. Will and Dustin talked about that 60s movie they watched before. He had a feeling Robin also talked about it before. She wanted to watch it with him, to broaden his horizon. 

He saw Will for the first time this evening at the dinner table. Will didn't seem to be in a very chatty mood, so Steve decided not to pester him with too many questions. Will was stabbing his food with the fork and provided short answers, when someone talked to him. Max was in a chatty mood today, but Steve learned not to disrupt her quiet phases aswell. It was a time where she intently listened to what was going on around her. He saw her quietly smile into herself sometimes, when one of the boys said some stupid shit.

Robin and Nancy's whispering turned into a giggle and then into a chant, far away from quiet. “Speech! Speech! Speech!�� They looked at Hopper, starting to bang their fists on the table. Hop rolled his eyes and mouthed a stern 'No!' Nancy seemed to have sobered up a bit, still red cheeks, but she had this determination in her eyes, that Steve loved so much about her. El watched the girls chant and bang on the table for a second, before she chimed in, ignoring Mike's monologue. The more Hopper refused, which he did, the louder everyone got. Max was quietly smiling to herself. She put her hands on the table, like she tried to feel the vibration of the bangs on her hands. “Okay, okay, okay.“, Hop finally said. He got up, taking his glass of scotch into his right hand and put his left hand gently on Joyce's shoulder. Clapping and whoo-ing ensued. Well, from almost the whole table. Eddie didn't shout as loud as the other participants, but clapped. Apparently he still had a lot of respect, or maybe some sort of god's fear of Hop, which Steve found hilarious in a way. Mr. „Fuck the rules“ in awe of a cop. Steve smiled. He wondered why Hop arrested Eddie back then and how it all went down. He had a faint idea, since he sometimes bought weed off of him, back in high school. But that is a story for a different time. „Y'people are cruel, you know that, right? Y'know I'm bad with words.” He cleared his throat. “But uh, I will try my best.“ He seemed like he didn't quite know what to do with his hands or face. Joyce looked up to him, a sparkle in her eyes. She patted Hopper's hand on her shoulder and whispered „You can do this.“  Hopper was wearing a nice shirt and Steve was 200% sure it was a gift from one of the girls. It was very colourful, so he figured El gave it to him and it mattered so much to him, he wore it anyway, like a proud dad. A proud dad. Steve had a bitter sweet feeling in his stomach. But he couldn't imagine anyone other, that deserved a proud dad as much as El and Max. „I want to thank you all for coming here. It's uh... nice to have a full house. I guess we're still making this house a home...“ He looked around the table at all the eyes fixed on him and seemed to get honestly emotional. As if he felt...touched. „I never reckoned, that I would have a wife and four children to boss me 'round.“, he looked at the kids intently. His voice broke a little, Steve was sure about it, he heard it! “And...-“ „She's not your wife yet!“, Max interrupted with a smug smile on her lips. Hopper sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. „Yeah, well. That is a fact. A fact that I was going to get into, if you would let me finish...” „They are getting married in spring!!“ El blurted out. „That is why Robin and Nancy wanted to hear a speech.“ El was proud. Mike next to her, seemed somewhat disconnected from the ruckus on the table. Will, who was sitting next to Mike, just watched the burning candle in front of him intently. Joyce laughed. „Don't steal his thunder! Come on now, go on, now.“ Her smile was wide and genuine. Something clicked in Steve's head. He looked at Joyce's hand and saw a new ring which she didn't wear the last time he visited. Joyce seemed to notice him connecting the dots and winked at him. He raised his eyebrows in disbelieve and shot Robin a look. She winked at Steve too, she knew already, but didn't say a word to him. Wow. Steve was surprised, Robin could shut up that long. Especially in front of him. Good for her. All the times they spoke on the phone and yet. He was almost proud.

If there hasn't been the conversation he had with Joyce when he came in, one could have thought everything was alright. Just a happy, big family celebrating new year's. Steve wished it could at least be true for the evening. He had a feeling they all shared that wish.

„Who's gonna be your best man? Can I be your best man?“ Dustin piped up. Mike punched his shoulder. 

„You can't be a best man, you're way to young! You have to be like, 30 to be a best man.“ „Ow, dude, that is so disrespectful.“ Dustin shot back. „I'm allowed to ask!?“„As a matter of fact-“ Hopper raised his voice to interrupt the fighting, looking between Mike and Dustin. „We are getting married in spring. And uh I... we! We wanted to inform you, that you're all invited. We want you to be there.” Dustin looked at Hopper with big eyes, waiting for an answer. „I'm sorry kid, but Jonathan is going to be my best man.“, he said, not unkind. Dustin frowned. “Damn it.“ „See, I told you!“, Mike hissed at him under his breath across the table. “I am allowed to ask!!!”, Dustin hissed back.Jonathan who was just watching the back and forth between the kids, raised his hands in defense and shook his head. „First of all, I'm not 30? And you are very welcome to help me prepare stuff.” Dustin nodded enthusiastically, ignoring Mike's sour expression. It was the first wedding he was invited to, so Dustin thought, he had every right to be excited.He could practice wedding stuff, for when Suzie and him would get married, once they were old enough. Even though he didn't really know if Mormons married differently. He only knew weddings only from TV anyway, so this was a good place to start. El searched for Steve's attention. „I'm going to be a flower girl.“, she said unable to contain her excitement. „Me and Max both. That means we will go down the isle and throw flower petals on the ground.“, she explained. „Before Joyce walks down to get married.“ She was so proud. Her cheeks turned a rosy hue.Steve nodded. „That is very nice, I love that.“, he said sincerity in his voice. He looked over at Eddie. He had his hand on his chin, leaning on the table, just listening. If he wouldn't have known better, Steve thought, he was moved. But he couldn't read his face, since Eddie hid half of it and avoided eye-contact with Steve. Maybe he felt embarrassed about earlier. „So, please remember the date. 7th of may. I want us all to be together. It's important to celebrate, even during hard times.“, Joyce added. „You will get the invitations later. Oh, and thank you Robin for helping us make them!“ „Hear, hear!“ Robin raised her glass, putting her arm around Nancy. “I'm happy I could help.“, she smiled her beautiful, broad smile. Nancy looked up to her, studying her profile, flustered. Steve knew that look, but hasn't seen it in a while. Apparently Robin had helped them craft beautiful typography and added some flowers into their design.Hopper was so concentrated to provide a speech, he couldn't be annoyed by their blatant flirting. Steve knew, it wasn't because they were both young women. It was just because it was...them. „So now that that is out of the way...“, Hopper said after he kissed Joyce's head. „Let's have a nice evening together, but let's not get over board.“, Hopper continued, looking at Nancy. Steve couldn't help but laugh. Nancy shot him a look. Neither Will nor Mike had any emotional reaction to the situation, that was appropriate. Steve was wondering what was going on behind the scenes on this one. He had a little suspicion. “To Hopper and Joyce!” Nancy raised her cup. Everyone followed her. Even so Mike, who seemed to watch Will from the corner of his eyes the whole time. The only person who didn't raise his glass to the happy occasion, was Will. Steve was surprised. „This is not right.“, he said quietly still staring at the candle. The table grew quiet all of a sudden and everybody looked at Will. Raised hands sank back down. Mike rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.Maybe Will had been in a mood all day. Which was unusual, because that role was solely Mike's, commonly. „Honey, let's talk about this again later...“, Joyce said, reaching out to her son. „No, I don't want to talk. I'm so sick of everyone pretending everything is fine, when it's clearly not!“ Joyce couldn't speak for a second, she was taken aback. And hurt, Steve figured. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, afraid of saying something to make it worse. “Will....”, Jonathan started. „I can't take this talk of us all being together, when people are missing from 'together' and everyone is just, like, ignoring the truth.“ „Do you want to talk about this truth? Now?“ Hoppers voice was not unkind, but stern. „Enlighten us?“ Steve didn't think it was possible for the room to get even more silent but somehow it did. Dustin put his glass of sunny D down quietly, as if he was afraid to be noticed. “We're just playing pretend. Lucas and Erica are gone and Max-“ He stopped. His voice broke. The sound of his chair grinding back on the kitchen floor seemed to ripple through the room. „I have to go.“ He looked at the shocked faces around him and seemed to grow smaller. Will walked out of the kitchen.  They could hear his steps ascending up the stairs into his room, followed by a door closing.Max lowered her head. Nobody dared to say anything. Joyce let her head sink into her hands, rubbing her forehead. “I'm sorry” she said softly to no one in particular. „He is going through a lot.“ “Puberty.”, Dustin nodded knowingly. Steve shot him a look and mouthed 'not now', shaking his head slightly. Dustin folded and shut up. Hopper laid his hand on Max's and whispered something to her. She nodded, but her expression seemed conflicted, still. Everyone missed Lucas and Erica the way Will did, but they were all faced with the same helplessness in the situation. Steve's stomach turned. It reminded him of the helplessness he felt, when Nancy was grieving Barbara. And he was a shit boyfriend back then. But also a teenager facing impossible situations. Not knowing where they are, made him lose sleep as well. He looked at Eddie. He seemed to want to add something to the conversation, but didn't dare to. He loved Lucas and had grown more fond of Erica ever since she called him a long haired freak. Everyone looked hurt, staring down at the table. Except for Mike. Mike seemed furious, like he could barely swallow his rage. Not annoyed, like he usually was. A more common sight, but fire burning furiously. Steve had a feeling, Max blamed herself partly for them leaving. Even though none of them had confirmation on how the situation took place and it surely wasn't Max's fault. He knew Max was smart. Smart beyond her years. But knowing something doesn't immediately mean, you know how to deal with your emotions. He knew that for sure.Jonathan cleared is throat and put down his bottle of beer. „I'm going to talk to him.“, he uttered under his breath and got up to follow his little brother upstairs. Mike watched Jonathan go after Will and something in him was about to snap. He shook his head. You could see the white on his knuckles, he was balling his fists so hard on the table. El looked at his fist and back up to him. But before she could say anything, Mike finally snapped. „This is so stupid.“, he spit out. „He should be happy he has all of this!“, he waved across the room. “Mike! Stop it!”, Nancy snapped at him.  Mike shot his sister an angry look across the table, before the second time a chair grinned the kitchen floor. “Don't act like you know whats going on at home!” He left the room, put on his shoes and slammed the front door behind him, without grabbing a coat on the way out. El didn't follow him. She looked the other way and grabbed Max's hand. Max seemed relieved. Everyone else was looking at the table, perplexed on how fast a general mood can switch.Nancy shook her head and furrowed her brows. “Just ...let him calm down.”, she said, defeated and waved her hand. Robin put an arm around her. Just being there, a silent support. “They are always angry, lately.”, Max said quietly. El nodded, knowingly. “They are.”, she said with a lowered tone. “Something is changing.“, she added. Steve couldn't make out if Hopper was extremely angry or extremely sad. He did work a lot on his anger lately, he knew that from Joyce. So maybe it was somehow both.

„Sometimes people are angry when things change.“, Joyce offered them softly. The candles were flickering on the table and the TV had since started broadcasting the New Year's eve celebrations on times square. 1988. Almost a new era. “Let's just clean up a bit. We'll give you guys some time.” Robin said towards Joyce and Hopper, as she got up. Nancy seemed to snap out of a trance and got up too. Steve knew, Hop wanted the best for his new family. Steve respected that. But it also must be a lot of work and “new territory” so to say. “I'll go out to check on the fire.”, Hopper said, getting off the table.Joyce got up too, to frantically put plates together. “Come on let's all help. Dustin! Grab a tea towel. I wash, you dry.”, Steve announced. Dustin groaned. “Do I have to?” “Yes. You do.” Steve said with a stern voice and gestured towards him. In reality Dustin was probably relieved. He didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, or the Situation as a whole, if we were perfectly honest. “Go be with Hopper. We got this”, Nancy said softly, touching Joyce's arm. She sighed and laughed thinly. “Thank you. I'm sorry about this.” “Don't be.” Nancy was serious. Steve saw Joyce grab a packet of cigarettes out of one of the kitchen drawers, before she grabbed a coat and left into the night to talk to Jim. El pushed Max's wheelchair out of the kitchen, towards her room. El nodded to Nancy before they left. Nancy nodded back and touched El's shoulder affectionately before they left. It wasn't close to midnight yet, but still a good time to have a little festive fight, Steve figured. Nancy and Robin were clearing off the table, bringing used plates and cutlery to Steve and Dustin. Eddie had gotten up from the table and stood in the room awkwardly, not knowing what his role in this was exactly. He looked towards Steve, helplessly. Crisis-mode Steve was pretty good at diffusing situations and just reacting to problems. So he did. Steve turned on the water and plugged the drain, before looking over his shoulder at Eddie, nodding towards the door, raising his eyebrows. He seemed to have forgotten that Eddie doesn't really have a code to follow in “family situations” like that.“I think I, uh... I want to go smoke a cigarette?”, Eddie asked

“Yes. Yes you want to do that.” Steve answered and nodded towards the door again. Someone should check on Mike. “Right. Got it.” Eddie snapped his fingers and walked out the kitchen towards the front door, grabbing the ear warmers and his coat, following to where ever Mike Wheeler turned to hide himself. Steve sighed, already feeling bad for being bossy. But he knew Mike looked up to Eddie. Mike grew his hair out, despite his father threatening, that he would somehow end up in prison with a haircut like that or worse, unemployed. The kid was a sucker for Eddie. Even today, he wore his Hellfire shirt, hanging on every word Eddie uttered, all evening. When he wasn't sulky or angry. If he didn't know it any better, he thought Mike had a crush on Eddie. Nancy for one, didn't quite get the infatuation her brother had, but decided, there were worse role models to pick. At least Eddie was someone who tried to make high school a tolerable place for kids like them. He basically ran around high school adopting kids. Which was cute. She remembered wanting to look out for Jonathan, when they were in school. And he had proven himself to Nancy Wheeler since. She put a stack of used plates next to Steve and sighed, watching him scrub away on the dirty plates, brows furrowed. He loved to stress-clean. He used to stress-clean a lot, when they were dating. Back then, she found it endearing. Now it's just comedy relieve. Also, Robin was a slob and she already got used to that. But it was Steve's way of helping and dealing with complicated situations. “You know he had a hard time, since Robin and me got together.”, Nancy's big dark eyes seemed still seemed a bit clouded. Steve listened to her, keeping his eyes on the warm water and bubbles. “He is so fucking angry all the time, we don't know what to do.”, she said, sighing again. “I don't know what to do and he is not talking about it, like, at all.” Dustin shook his head and scoffed. “We have been talking, aaall the time! But nobody can fucking tell me what's wrong.” Dustin sounded defeated drying another plate, Steve put into his hands. „Maybe, they just need a little bit more time. To figure things out.“ Robin's voice was quiet, and soft like velvet, her eyes rested on Steve. Then she leaned over to Dustin and gave him a little nudge. “Don't worry too much about it, Dusty-Bun.” Dusty-Bun groaned loudly.“Yes! But we know Will is gay. We don't care! The party does not care!”, Dustin was obviously annoyed by the whole Situation. “Eddie had this one gay character in DnD and we all decided we loved her!” he almost screamed. “It is just FINE. So what else could it possibly be?” Robin decided to ignore him. She remembered Sapphire the Sapphic all to well. When Eddie told her about Sapphire, she knew, that motherfucker wasn't totally straight. How else would he know the word sapphic and why else would he tell that to her. They had a silent agreement since. But Robin was happy he seemed to try to teach the kids something.Robin had seen Eddie with girls around Hawkins High. But she had a suspicion. The same suspicion she held with Steve. Not all that easy to read, but the moment Eddie appeared in their lives, she could smell something was off with Steve too. Since they knew each other, she had never seen Steve look at a girl the way he looked at Eddie. Steve never looked at her that way, when he thought he was in love with her too. “Is he angry about you and Robin?”, Steve asked Nancy and gave Dustin yet another wet plate to shush him, lovingly. “He seemed to take it fine. When we told him. Together. ” Nancy said. “But then, all of a sudden he decided to be a huge dick. To everyone.” “More than before?” Steve couldn't hide his undertone. Which was fine in that situation, he figured.“Uh, Yes. A lot more.”, Dustin said, swinging his towel. “I would have told you, if you'd pick up your phone more often. Instead of, uh, I don't know, going on hot dates with lots of girls or whatever.” Robin poured herself a cup of mulled wine from the stove and laughed out loud, leaning on the counter.“How are those hot dates going, Harrington?” Steve dropped a plate back into the foamy water, to look at her, eyebrows raised. “Okay, ouch. I don't like either of you two very much, right now. I'm actually studying and working. Trying to become my own man, you know?” Steve shrugged. “I'm trying to become a better man.” He nodded to himself. He wasn't quite sure if he believed it, or what it meant, exactly. His glasses fogged up from the hot water, so he took them off and placed them on his head. “Jeez, that shouldn't distract you from being a good older male role model for me, Steve.” Dustin threw the tea towel over his shoulder, like an old lady, perfectly mimicing the way Steve did it. Steve didn't say anything to that. He just looked at Dustin and shook his head.„What do you think about it, Buckley? I mean, about Mike and Will.”, Steve finally asked, going on to investigate his suspicion. She sighed deeply, taking a sip of the hot wine, contemplating.„I think they are teenagers. We weren't any better, were we? Figuring stuff out. Fighting, being mad. There IS a lot of change happening right now. We're still trying to cope too. And their brains aren't really fully developed yet. You should know that, Mr. Councilor? The prefrontal cortex and everything? Do you have yours?”Steve scoffed and nodded. “Yeah, haven't taken that class yet. Next semester. Too busy being a rolemodle.”, he looked at Dustin theatrically, who sighed.The warm water in the sink felt good on his hands. In the beginning he tried not to get his band-aid wet, but aborted the mission half way through. Scrubbing plates gave him something productive to do. From the kitchen window, he saw Joyce and Hopper standing by the fire. Hop was shaking his head while Joyce was talking and blowing blue smoke into the cold winter air. „What are we figuring out though?“ Dustin put a salad bowl on top of the pile of clean plates. „Stuff. Teenager Stuff.“, Steve said. „I want to be included. I can't trust you to figure the case out by yourself. You need me. You know, to connect the dots.“ “I don't know man. I am still not sleeping well either. At least sometimes. So I guess that?” Dustin nodded. He seemed to understand that.  “I talk to Suzie a lot when I can't sleep.”, his voice went a little bit more quiet. “Some teenagers have to figure stuff out, other teenagers don't have to.” Steve pondered, thinking of Mike and Will. „Also, you can't put a half dry bowl to the dry dishes! Jesus!“ Steve took the tea towel from Dustin's shoulder and put it on his own. Robin smiled kindly. “That is actually true. You know you can still figure things out even though you're not a teenager anymore, right Steve?” Steve and Robin locked eyes. Nancy looked between them, confused about the tension in the room. Outside the house, Eddie stomped through the crisp snow, silently hating himself for jumping on whatever Steve tells him to. He could imagine a thousand things that were better than running after an angry teenager on a night he looked forward to for weeks. Could he say no to Steve though? Not exactly. Would he do anything for that rag-tag family type situation going on in there? Yeah, probably. He figured it was safe to feel that way. They did that for each other all the time, he knew. Eddie did actually know a thing or two about being a teenager and being an angry one, so.

 Steve knew that. That's why he sent him out to talk to Mike, he figured. It made him feel a little proud. Steve knew the kids longer than he had. So Eddie loved, that Steve trusted him with looking after one of the difficult ones. 

They both cared about the little shrimps. He felt included. It warmed Eddie's heart, something to examine later, after the mission.And Eddie also knew very well, that he could have used someone in situations like that. Needed someone to understand him. Dads and uncles sometimes couldn't do that in a way that actually helped. 

Even though, he regarded himself lucky, to even have an uncle, to go after him when he stormed out into the dark of night. Which he did frequently, back in the day. Why he never got eaten by a Demogorgon or something like that, in hindsight, he couldn't explain. The fool's luck.

„Shit.“ He rubbed his hands together, looking around to find any sign of Mike. He looked up to the sky. The moon was a very thin sickle. Only sparse clouds in the sky. Which made sense. It's to cold for much clouds if it's too cold for snow. And there wasn't any snow in a while. It made sense, because of the lack of moisture. He really liked the colour of the sky though.

The footsteps in the snow he followed, led him behind his own Van. Mike was crouched down, leaning on a dirty front tire. He angrily wiped away a tear or two in an hectic movement, when he heard Eddie's footsteps approach. Little Idiot, Eddie thought. He looked younger.

„Hey there. It's a bit cold to hang around out here.“, Eddie said.

„What else is new.“ Mike's tone was cold. He clearly didn't want any company. Yet, there Eddie was. Feeling like he was in a different dimensions, where the roles were reversed and he was the one to strike up a meaningful conversation. No biggie, though. The van's door was cold on Eddies back, as he leaned against it, while crouching down next to Mike. He reached into the pocket of his too big jacket and produced a packet of cigarettes and a zippo lighter, with an intricate design on it. There was only a zzsk, zzsk noise abd a small orange flame from the lighter, as he lit his cigarette.

He casually blew the smoke into the cold December air, like he didn't just got sent out into the cold to retrieve a teenager. He offered the package over to Mike, who raised his hand to take one out, but Eddie pulled back in a quick motion. “Gotcha. I know you smoked before. Don't start it.” Mike shook his head, defeated. He knew he earned that. “I had to throw up after.”, he confessed quietly. Eddie nodded. “I thought that much.“, he said ashing into the snow.When he saw Mike the first time, he got bullied by some jock from Mike's English class. The perfect victim for becoming a new member of Hellfire. But that was why Eddie started Hellfire for. A refuge for nerds, freaks and outcasts. And they flocked to him.Now the situation was a different one. The “shared trauma” as Robin and Steve called it, was a bit more than some assholes in a cafeteria calling you a name. It was new for him, he barely survived. Thinking that those kids have done this since they were so small, blew his mind. Made him feel small in comparison.Since then a lot changed, times changed and the kids grew up a lot. But hell, so did he. 

If somebody would have traveled back in time and told him, that he would spend New Year's with Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler and a Cop in 3 years time, he would have spat into the time traveler's face, despite being impressed by, you know, the time traveling.Once you graduate and leave the small little bubble of high school, get thrown into real life, a lot of important things seemed silly. It almost made Eddie feel nostalgic.

Like he yearned for easier times with less at stake. Jocks against Nerds. Nothing more. Black and White. Not all of this greyish hues that bloomed in front of him, like boring but insightful flowers of early adulthood.He wondered if the little spark he had with Chrissy could have bloomed into a friendship too after high school, if... if things happened differently. 

Their friendship would have have had pink and yellow petals, he thought. Eddie imagined her at college. He imagined her having fun with her friends and grow up to become a woman. He saw her smiling. She would have been so amazing. It stung.But despite all of it, Mike was still partly in this bubble, with his stupid views on the stupid world and his big anxieties, that were very real. The kids were pushing 18, learning and growing and being dumb.

„So... what was that all about?“ Eddie tried to swallow his teasing tone. „What do you mean?“, Mike spat, looking at the cigarettes tip glistening in Eddie's hand.

„Come on.“ Eddie leaned into Mike's space. „You're going to tell me, Baby-Byers storming off and then you storming off are not in perfect correlation?“ „I know you think of me as this wise old man, but I'm actually not too unfamiliar with the teenage drama.“ Mike shook his head and rolled his eyes. "It's not that." Mike said. “It's not drama... It's just... I'm just...Will got all of this attention from being 'out' and everyone is walking on eggshells around him. He gets to start over at a new place and Joyce and Hopper are madly in love with each other, it's gross.“, it bubbled out of him. Ding, Ding, Ding. Jackpot, Eddie thought, but let the kid continue.„He is living with El and Max and Jonathan is there a lot. Everyone loves him, despite... you know? But he runs around being depressed and angry and anxious. What does he have to be angry about all the time?!“ Mike was angry, too.

Eddie took the last drag off the cigarette and flipped it into the snow. They both watched the little light go out. Eddie decided to not follow up the 'despite', not yet. He also swallowed the 'what are you so angry about?' question. That was for another time.

„Are you jealous?.“, Eddie said, breathing out smoke. Mike was hesitant, breathing out through his nose, like a child that got caught. He seemed to gather his thoughts together, so Eddie let him.

„I'm alone a lot. Everyone is here. Lucas is gone. I barely get to see them.“ Mike's voices cracked.

„What about Dustin?“ „He is in a total nerd mode. Only cares about finishing school. And talking to Suzie.“ He scoffed. "He wants to marry her?" Eddie nodded. "That's young." He knew about that. Not feeling included, being alone. Except Mike gets to do it from a nice home with a family around him. He did not know a lot about his parents, despite the fact, that they don't seem to love eachother .„And El and you...“, Eddie started. „We're taking a break!“, the answer shot out of him. „It's just a matter of time. We'll be together again soon.“ 'We will be happy again', Mike wanted to say but didn't. Eddie had a feeling that this wasn't exactly true on what he had observed that evening. But the boy needed something to hang on to, so he wouldn't drown. Eddie wasn't going to be the one to take the straw away from him.

The first heart break was always the worst one. But he'll get over it, Eddie knew that too. „I can't say anything about you and El. But you guys all love each other. And you won't live in your parent's place forever. You can all venture out into the world together one day.“, Eddie mused, gesturing towards the sky.„I know, but what if...“ Mike's voice gave out completely. „What if they forget me? Just move on?“ He turned to look at Eddie with genuine sadness and fear in his eyes. A tear on the brink of rolling over his pale cheek. Oh god. Genuine emotions made Eddie feel weird. Who could blame him, when he had to swallow all of his own grievances and hurt for so long, just to survive. Those kids were emotionally so much more in tune with themselves than he was at their age. He swallowed. Don't mess this up, Munson. „Well...I for one, haven't been a part of what ever this is for a long time.“ He nodded towards the house. „But I can assure you, those people in there love you as much as you love them, man.“ Eddie chuckled. „I'm just a sort of bystander and I have felt sick all evening from all of this love and understanding going on in there.“ Mike laughed a little. „It's pretty bad.“, he admitted.„Yeah it is. And I think nobody would like, shoot you if you talked to them about it. You could even say, that you uh, miss them or something.“ Mike nodded. He knew Eddie was right. There was a small pause. Far away, there was the noise of fireworks going off, prematurely. And the cracking of the fire in the backyard. „You're not a bystander, Eddie...“, Mike said after that long pause, looking at his shoes. The tables have turned, Eddie thought. But that was the way those kids worked.„Sshh. I wasn't the one storming out of a family event just now.”, Eddie deflected. “Try to swallow your pride. You think you can do that?“ Mike nodded, bated. “And maybe you can work up some understanding for Will? Doing what he is doing, isn't that easy either.“, Eddie said with a stern voice. “And doing what you're doing is hard aswell. Be soft.” Mike nodded. He didn't quite know what Eddie meant, but he liked to feel acknowledged. He wondered what 'being soft' meant. „Okay. Good. So let's get up and go back inside. Your sister is going to skin me alive if you get sick because of me. “Mike seemed to understand those worries and reluctantly got up to walk back inside the house. For a second Eddie stopped in front of Steve's Beemer, looked at the leather seats and his bags neatly put together in the back.

When he raised his head, he took in the sight of a house filled with light and love and smelled the burnt wood from the backyard. There was some sort of commotion coming from the kitchen, a crash, like broken glass and something that could be a cat dying or Dustin. Eddie and Mike shared an amused look, before they entered the patio, to walk back inside. Eddie put one Hand on Mike's back, ushering him inside. He looked over his shoulder to check the woods, before he closed the door behind them. Old habits die hard. Maybe there was a slight chance for a nice evening, after all. People were still scattered around the house. When Eddie walked in, he immediately loved the warmth. He seemed to melt into it. Steve and Dustin were still cleaning and arguing. Apparently Dustin had dropped a plate and Steve was ushering him around to get out of the way, for Steve to sweep up the shards. In case any one of them went downstairs to get a cheeky sandwich, barefoot in the middle of the night, so nobody would get hurt. Seeing Steve, wearing his glasses on his head, a tea towel over his shoulder, bossing around a kid, Eddie felt a strange sense of longing for domesticity. Not that he ever had the nuclear family, mum-dad-kid holy trinity of the American dream at his disposal, but he liked evenings in, when him and Wayne would cook a proper meal together and watch a sitcom on TV. When he was younger, Wayne let him stay up longer and watch things that, in hindsight were not appropriate for 12 year old kids, but it was what it was. And Eddie was thankful for every minute of it. Bonding time. After they made their way back into the kitchen, Eddie noticed, Dustin also put his tea towel on his shoulder, the way Steve did. It was so absurdly cute how much Dustin looked up to Steve. One time Eddie asked him, if he'd share the secret of Steve's perfect hair, if he knew it. As a joke. Dustin got this really serious expression and told him, “I am not at liberty to discuss that with you, or anyone as a matter of fact.” and shut down the conversation. It took quite a lot out of Eddie not to laugh out loud. But that meant, he did share his sacred hair regimen with Dustin. And Dustin guarded it like it was the declaration of independence. In that moment, Eddie had a vision of him and Steve in an imaginary shared flat, where Steve was at the stove, in the middle of making dinner, on a random Tuesday night and Eddie hugged him from behind, to kiss his neck and smell his hair. He imagined them making out between chopped vegetables and bubbling sauce. Greetings from the kitchen, or whatever rich people called it. Maybe it started with something benign like Steve letting Eddie taste test his homemade tomato sauce, excuse him, Sugo, the one with the fresh basilico and authentic grana padano. But it ended with him whispering into Steve's ear, how much he loved him and his Sugo. The three course menu for Eddie was Steve, Steve, Steve. He immediately felt bad after imagining that. He had fever dreams like this all the time. He felt double bad, because Steve was obviously straight and it made his gut turn, that he imagined stuff like this about a friend. He felt like a stupid horny teenager, when there was more pressing matters to attend to.Eddie's eyes were glazed over, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Mike, whom Eddie forgot about for a second there, didn't seem to want to disrupt whatever was happening with Eddie. He cleared his throat semi-politely and announced he was going to sit with Nancy and Robin to watch the festivities as they unfolded on TV for a bit. Nancy and Robin were graceful and didn't make a big deal of the disgruntled teenager returning back to the mothership. Bless them. Eddie's and Steve's glance met, when Steve put away the last pieces of broken china. Eddie immediately looked away, a pink shimmer on his cheeks. Steve sighed and washed his hands. “Can you go sit with Mike?”, he said towards Dustin. “I want to talk to Eddie.” “There's a lot of talking going on today, that's for sure.”, Dustin grumbled passive aggressively, walking out of the kitchen. Steve felt a bit bad about it, but he was going to make up for it later on, he figured.

When Eddie sat down at the table, he had a beautiful smile on his face, that also seemed sad or embarrassed, Steve could not tell. The cold from outside must have turned his cheeks a rosy hue. There were some candles still burning, other ones were already out.Steve swung the tea towel over his shoulder yet again and put some little bowles of chips and other snacks on the table. “So...What's up?” Eddie shook his head. “Angsty teenager stuff.”  Steve laughed. Eddie patted on the empty chair beside him. Steve followed, pulling up the chair, using it backwards, leaning his arms on the back rest. “Thanks for talking to him.” He nodded towards the living room, where Mike awkwardly sat on the rest of the couch, while Dustin joined them, immediately diving into the popcorn. “Yeah, no problem. He's just, you know, Mike.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, he is.” “And I think. They're still having a hard time.”, Eddie continued. Steve sighed and leaned his chin on his forearms. “They miss them. A lot. Hell, even I miss that snarky little Erica voice.”, Eddie continued. “Who could blame them?”, Steve said more to himself.

“I think Mike feels lonely in Hawkins.”, Eddie said quietly, tilting his head towards the living room. Steve didn't say anything for a bit. The kitchen felt weirdly quiet after all that noise before. “Do you feel lonely in Hawkins?” Eddie scoffed. “Got lots to do. M'shifts at the mechanic. People don't have money to buy new tractors and cars. I'm in the back, so nobody gets to me.” He sighed. “Uncle Wayne is giving me a hard fucking time about that government housing. Constantly wants me to help him fix shit, or change shit. He hates it there.” “Move.”, Steve said, simply. Eddies eyebrows furrowed. “What?” “Move away. Doesn't Wayne have friends from the army somewhere?” Eddie was surprised, that Steve remembered that. “Yeah, but they live somewhere secluded, in east Jesus nowhere.”Some of the vets were not happy how they were treated after serving. And they did not get the assistance they needed to get back into civilian life. They lived somewhat self organized, somewhere in the desert. Wayne sometimes got letters from them, Eddie remembered Wayne chuckling to himself, while reading. And the only time he saw him writing was when he had to do tax returns or write back to his friends.

“It's not that easy, Steve... I can't just leave Uncle Wayne and the money...” “But we did get a good amount. You could start off somewhere new.” Steve offered.Eddies eyes got darker. He felt a little burning pit in his belly. “I don't have the same opportunities you do.” What he wanted to say was, I only have Uncle Wayne left. Where was he supposed to go? With whom?“I'm just saying-” Eddie sighed loudly, interrupted Steve with it. “I don't really think, you understand my situation here, Harrington.”Steve sat up in his chair. The 'Harrington' stung. Eddie hasn't called him that since before. It was a reminder of their past roles and Steve's status from before. Even if before didn't exist anymore and Steve was sure they let that part of the past behind them. Because it wasn't relevant anymore, not to him, at least. El and Max entered the kitchen again, Max's hands full of fire crackers and small fire works. Not the big ones, because no one liked loud noises at this point. “Do you guys want to go out and cause some chaos?”Steve looked at Eddie and raised his eyebrows. Eddie nodded. “Sure, why not. Get dressed.”, Steve said to the girls. Eddie watched Steve get up to get coats and shoes ready for outside. A tiny voice in him shouted derogatory terms. He didn't quiet know why he was so defensive right then. Defensive and a little bit mean. But he got up to follow them, anyway, cursing under his breath.

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

can i pls request some jealous sex with derek shepherd??👀💕 thank u xx

Don’t

Pairing: Derek Shepherd x Reader

Warning: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT‼️ 18+ ONLY‼️ unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!) , jealous Derek, kitchen sex, nipple play (slight), cum play

MASTERLIST

-----

"Get back here!" the front door slammed shut behind your fuming boyfriend as you walked further into your apartment

"Go home Derek!" you spun around on your heels to face the fuming man across the room, finger pointing to the same door that he just entered through

"I've had enough of your shitty behaviour for one night"

"My shitty beha- you're pushing it"

Tonight you both attended a dinner with a few of your co-workers and Derek is so admant that you and his best friend Mark were flirting with each other, which brings you here in your living room

"You and Mark were practically fucking each other with your eyes tonight thinking that I didn't notice but I did!" your blood boiled even further as he continued to accuse you of something that he clearly made up in his head

"You know what, maybe I was fucking Mark in my head because CLEARLY I'm desperate for sex" Derek's face became more red with rage as you spoke

"You know what was going through my mind as he was talking to me, I thought about him shoving me up against the nearest wall and sticking his tongue down my throat while his hands groped my brests or ass" clenching his jaw he gripped onto the back rest of the sofa so hard until his knuckles turned white

"You're crossing a line" at this point you didn't care

"I wanted to know what it felt like to have Mark Sloan fuck me into oblivion, to fuck me so hard that I wouldn't be able to remember my own damn name while I cum all over his cock"

"That's enough" Derek stalked over to you but you held your ground still spewing all the vail things that he so obviously thought was happening in my head

"I wanted him to turn me into a moaning mess, to have me screaming out his name as I orgasm-" you were cut short by Derek's hand wrapping around your throat choking you lightly just how you like it. His once angry demeanor is now overtaken with lust

"I said that's. enough." his breath fanned against your flushed cheeks, you could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he forced you to look into his eyes. You cunt fluttered as he backed you up against the island top

"Let's put that mouth of yours to good use. On your knees" he released your throat and pushed you down to the floor. He quickly undid his pants and his semi-hard cock sprung free from their restraints. You took his cock into your plams, spreading the pre-cum on the head of his cock before spitting on it. Derek grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled your head back

"No time for games" licking the prominent vein from the underside of his massive cock you couldn't help but smirk at the sounds that came from him and you're bearly even started

Opening your mouth you slowly went down on him, hollowing your cheeks as you sped up. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat each time and it's time like this where you're thankfull that you don't have a gag reflex.

His grip on your hair tightened as he started taking control, bucking his hips fucking your mouth wildly. Your saliva coated the shaft of his cock and trickled down your chin, making a complete mess. Reaching up you palmed his balls earning a grunt of approval from the Derek. You felt his cock twitch before he shot his load down your throat. He pulled out and you swallowed every last drop, he hoisted you up and bent you over the kitchen counter, raising your dress to revel your bare ass

"No panties" spanking your ass he pressed his cock up against you thrusting between your ass cheeks. Derek raised your leg and placed it on the conter before stooping down to your soaking cunt

His broad tongue lick a broad stripe from your needy hole to your clit while index finger played with your opening before he stuck it in. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and licking turning you into a moaning mess

"Derek!" you fisted his curls pulling his face closer to your cunt, grinding down on his face as he hungrily ate you out in the middle of your kitchen

Moaning you gripped onto the cabinet handle tightly, knuckles turning white as you felt your first orgasm of the night build up. Derek sped up the pace, fingertips brushing against that specific spot inside of you. Your eyes folled to the back of your head as you clamped down on his digits as you came. He continued to lap at your juices, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue

He stood up and you were about to straighten up but he held you in place, turning your face to meet his. Lust blown eyes stared into yours briefly as he crashed his lips against yours. You could still taste yourself on his tongue as he explored your mouth. His hips rocked into yours and you moaned feeling his stiffened cock pressed firmly against your ass

Derek started trailing open mouth kisses along your jaw, neck and your exposed shoulder blades, lining himself up with your aching cunt. Digging his fingers into your hips he thrusted his cock into you not giving you any time to adjust before he was pounding into you like his life depended on it

"Fuck!" his cock streatched you out deliciously, the burn turned into pleasure in no time. He nipped at your earlobe, stuble grazing against your skin driving you insane. Derek pushed you flat against the countertop railing you at a better angle, cock hitting against your g-spot with each thrust

His groans became louder as your needy cunt fluttered around him each time he entered you. The sinful sounds of skin slapping against skin mixed with your moans and cries of pleasure echoed throughout your apartment. You were sure your neighbour was hearing eveything right now but you couldn't care less

Reaching behind you, you placed your hand on his abdomen in hopes of slowing his pace but he held your arm against your back, still brutally fucking into you

"Nuh uh, you wanted to be a brat, this is your punishment" your legs started turning into jello as another orgasm flodded your body, this time you felt a gush of hot liquid, smiling at the mess you made you rubbed circles onto your swollen clit as your arousal ran down your leg

"Shit" his hips started stuttering as his cock twitced inside of you, Derek emptied his seed deep inside of you before pulling out. You felt his sticky cum flow out of you and like the tease that you were you dipped you finger into your cunt before bring your fingers up to your lips, slowly sucking them clean

Straighten yourself Derek wasted no time in turning you around before hoisting you onto the counter. Shoving the skirt of your dress above your waist he thrusted into you again, cock still rock hard. He attacked your neck in kisses, teeth grazing against your flesh ever so often as he fucked into you. Derek pulled down the top of your dress exposing your breasts, he pinched your perky nipples and you could've cum right then and there again

"Mhmm Der-" running your hands through his long locks you dragged your nails against his scalp and he grunted in approval, slowing his pace a bit to take your right nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue driving you closer to the edge

"You gonna cum again" you wanted too but you were sure that you couldn't. When he didn't get a response he started torturing your clit causing you to cry out

"I-I can't" vision blurry you held onto his forearm body quivering from all the pleasure that you were recieving. Derek spread your legs wider, pulling your hips closer to edge of the counter resuming his animalistic thrusts into your dripping cunt

"You can, one more time for me baby" your eyes were glued to where your bodies connected as felt your orgasm build up. He pressed your foreheads together as you both enjoyed the sight, sinful moans slipped past both your lips

His dick was drenched in your slick, dripping down his heavy balls and onto his trousers. The tip of his cock found that spot again causing your eyes to roll again, toes curling, legs shaking and you knew that it wasn't long before you came again

"Right there" you felt yourself let go and once again you squirted your juices all over him, you were sure you were seeing stars from the intensity of your orgasm. He helped you ride out your high, chasing his own release. With one last thrust into you he buried himself into your cunt, hot cum spilling into you

Taking his face in your hands you pulled him into a steamy kiss as he stayed buried inside of you. Pulling back slightly you couldn't help but release a breathless chuckle

"If this is the type of sex I get from getting you riled up I guess I'll have to do that more often" your voice was hoarse from all the screaming and moaning you did and he lightly thrusted into you and you groaned

"Don't"

[junglejim4322]

Hard boiled and loaded with sin…

[hirakiyois]

Understanding Wai

I would appreciate it if Wai antis could give this a little read with an open mind. I'm up for any discussions too! Just don't leave hate on this!

First of all, I do not condone outing anyone publicly. That is very evidently wrong in real life. However, seeing the kind of hate that Wai is getting outside of that is genuinely just disheartening at this point and making it hard for anyone to enjoy the show. Wai has a reason to be angry too.

I do not mean to excuse Wai’s actions, simply to explain them. I do not mean to change anyone’s mind about him but to show them other perspectives (and yes there are other perspectives) of the whole situation. Everyone trusts P’Aof all the time so I really don’t see why not with this specific plotline. I know it’s easy to hate Wai, especially from PatPran’s POV but he is not a one-dimensional character to be boiled down to a villain. If P’Aof didn’t think he was worth redeeming, he simply would not have done that.

Okay so getting into it.

To be frank, it is just hypocritical to hate on Wai, especially after seeing the events that lead up to everything. A lot of people think Wai started the whole feud but all he did was show the Engineering Gang his middle finger. It was the EG that decided to make things violent, cornering him and trying to fight him 4-on-1. As much as I think the EG have become better, this does not erase the fact that they ganged up on him.

Immediately after this, the EG harass Wai at his workplace. Not only that, they film it and put a video of it online. Again, good on Pat for removing it but it doesn’t erase the fact that this happened. I don’t know how many of you have worked in the service industry but that is the shittiest thing a server can face (not mentioning the fact that Wai was literally held at gunpoint in Ep. 9). Wai is POWERLESS in that situation because it’s his workplace and he needs the job.

That brings me to the next point. Out of all the characters whose stories we see, Wai is the only one that needs a job to support himself. The show has set up multiple times that Wai is not from as well-off a family as Pat, Pa, or Pran. He NEEDS this job. It’s also why he needs Pran’s help with the play. I can see how the scene where he convinces Pran to take the job comes off as manipulative, but looking at it deeper, it’s more desperate than anything. Imagine working a shitty job, on top of keeping up with schoolwork, on top of going through rigorous rugby training which you cannot get out of because you NEED the scholarship to get you through school, on top of working on the sound design for a play. He’s way in over his head and it is not wrong of him to ask his friend, someone who does not need to do any of that, to help share his load. I can’t phrase it well but I also believe in the theories people put forth proposing that Wai saw Pran behaving weirdly on the beach trip, maybe like he did when they first met, and decided this was a way to get him back in touch with music, something that makes him happy.

Circling back to the behavior that the EG showed in the bar, none of them have ever apologized to Wai for it. Neither have they shown any remorse for trying to gang up on him and beating him up. This is where the hypocrisy comes in. I see no one asking for Korn or Pat to apologize for their actions. And that’s FINE because it was a part of the story and we have moved on from it. As should be the case with Wai. Korn is a good ally but being an ally doesn’t automatically absolve him of his sins. He’s suddenly everyone’s “best boy” despite being violent and disrespectful before. AND I GET IT. He’s a multidimensional character too and I love him but if you’re going to extend that courtesy to him, extend it to Wai too.

Last but not least, Wai’s actions are not justified, but his anger is. As viewers, we see Pat as he is with Pran and his friends. Fun, kind, communicative, so on and so forth. He’s a walking green flag for us! Rightfully so, too! But none of this happens in front of Wai. Wai does not see Pat as a kind person. Wai remembers Pat as someone who ganged up on him, as someone who sat by and watched as his friends harassed him at his workplace and recorded it. To Wai, Pat is a bully, simply put.

Now I would like you to imagine your BEST FRIEND dating someone like that. Dating someone who has been physically aggressive towards you (without apologizing) and whose friends have harassed you at your workplace (again, without any apologies) and keeping it a complete secret. You would be mad too!!

Pat has done nothing to redeem himself in Wai’s eyes and neither have the EG. Until now. It makes perfect sense that Wai only opens up to him after he steps up for him in the bar. In the bar, Wai is still powerless as a server but Pat has the ability, as a patron, to look out for him, and HE DOES. This is what redeems HIM in Wai’s eyes. This is what Wai needed to see.

I think Wai still needs to apologize to Pran. But I also think Pran’s apology was needed. I don’t get people who say that Wai is making this relationship about himself. He’s looking out for HIMSELF. Pat HAS hurt him in the past. Once again, in his eyes, without seeing the story that we have, it seems like his BEST FRIEND is dating someone who BULLIED HIM in a place where he couldn’t even fully defend himself. You would be lying if you think this wouldn’t anger you too.

P.S. – While I conceptually do not agree with the outing, I can see why it wasn’t made a big deal out of. Homophobia and PatPran’s sexuality has little to do with the main plot of the show. The conflict of the show isn’t centered around their sexuality but the conflict between their families and their faculties. Of course, this cannot be extended to the real world, but, for me, this is believable in a fictional world. Even with the thing with Korn going with the flow of the seniors outcasting Pran, it’s never about the gender of who he’s dating but their faculty.

P.P.S – I love Pat and Korn with my whole heart but their examples had to be used for this, please forgive me hehehehe.

P.P.P.S – I think anyone working in retail or service industries should be allowed to commit any crime they want. It’s the least they deserve.

[suspiciouslypinkrosegarden]

It had been a long while since he had ran from the garden back into his prison of monitors, pushing past the greens feeling everything around him shattering like fine china. There he found himself groveling on the hard tiles of the cold bathroom floor, not another soul to witness what a terrifyingly unnatural shade of blue his vomit came out to be as it spilled past his lips. His shaking would not cease.

He was all too familiar with the fact that the heart can be pushed to a point where it physically hurts, but never quite at a panging frequency like this. This feeling was different than the pain of betrayal or the boiling bubbling of anger; he could feel that organ actively crushing itself within an iron maiden of bitter hopelessness directed at himself and his actions. Saeran at this moment could easily say that he hated himself for being so lost, and yet he couldn’t help but also wallow deep within a dark cocoon made of self pity. If anyone really needed to be gone from this world, he now understood that it should have been him. Not that bug nor his beautiful prince(ss), who both unlike him remained hopeful in the face of all this chaos.

How could he allow himself to become the very monsters of his past in order to protect himself from the ones of the present? He could hear it now, how his words mirrored his mother’s shrill screaming he was forced to endure so long ago. How could he allow himself to be so blind that he drew his claws to fight someone so uninvolved? He could finally see it, you were an angel one of the devils on his back splashed black paint on, pointing at your soaked wings with their “found” evidence against you. You never hurt Ray, it was his savior’s decision entirely to hold that brutal cleansing. This was no cause and effect case, it was an executive executed order made unbeknownst to you as your confused eyes after losing Ray burned in his tired mind now. You really were just an idiot outsider, and yet you continued to stick by him even though you should have tried to run. He tried his hardest to ruin you and all you ever did was try to save him in return.

His suit, which looked so similar to what the men who hunted him and his brother for their father wore, clung to him sticky with sweat. Being unable to keep down even a few sips of water from the tap made it easy to let the mind wander to thoughts of vulnerability, but as much as he craved the gentleness of a hand carding through his hair or running up and down his back, he did not deserve such things. Saeran did not deserve the warmth of your voice reminding him that he’d be ok through it all, he was a royal fuck up and he knew it well. What he was doing now was repenting for his sins, and what he did deserve was the truck load of it.

Here in his current position he could see the elixir for what it truly was, poison. It burned what felt like holes in his throat and stomach coming out in endless fountains, the smell and taste on his tongue foul and acidic. It burned holes in his mind, staining his eyes with the exact brand this hell liked to use. He shook at the reminder like the tired and pathetic man he was, not at all well from the loss of what very little he had in his stomach. You weren’t the only one not eating.

In this state it was easy to feel delirious, his hand reaching up from the floor to pat around the bathroom counter for his phone. What would you have to say about all this? If you were here…what would you do? The little bird in their cage who seemed to never forget their song behind bars…what would those bright eyes think of a miserable sight like this one? He could at least tell himself that maybe you wouldn’t laugh or scoff at the weakened sight of him, maybe. If anyone around here was strong, he supposed it was you, for never cracking under the weight of all the death threats and degradation. You still reached out to try and hold his hand through what little space you were given, and why he could not nor ever understand.

If his world were a different place, one with light and stable foundations, what kind of dance would the two of you shared? If he was taught not to extinguish feelings, not to run from thoughts and wants that only made him human…what would he have found with you? If this mind wasn’t so fried and beaten down, Saeran figured he wouldn’t even exist in a timeline like that. His reality is that instead of reaching for your heart he convinced himself that what he wanted was feelings of only negativity, anger and annoyance, because he’s never been normal. He does not know how to love and care like normal people do, to foster relationships and kindle flames.

Is it too much for him to ask for a world where he is at least left alone? A world where he’s allowed to sit and do nothing as the clouds roll by above his head? If only he was fortunate enough to have been born a weed, no brain or heart, tough and deeply rooted in the soil underneath the sky. Dreams were too big for a man like him, and now he’s thrown away his last chance to grow beyond what he’s become, being so cruel and venomous to his real ticket to some sort of paradise.

With his phone in his shaky hands, he for some reason allowed himself to attempt to speak with you. And sure enough you were there for him once again, showing him an alien sense of kindness despite all he had done to you.

For the first time since he had slammed open that door into your life, he freely accepted your worries over his state of being. Your chest heavy with the sinking weight of concern, you listened as Saeran openly admitted to you that he wasn’t as bulletproof as he liked to play himself up to be. He put in writing for you to see the way he now wished to rather live on as an empty shell, shaking his head at your hopeful talk of starting over new.

[ozarkthedog]

Hidden Solace

Summary: Andy finds comfort in the most unsuspecting place.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Sex Worker!Reader

Word Count: 1,929

Warnings: SMUT. Oral Sex (Male Receiving). Glory Hole Virgin. Swearing. Slight Angst?. It’s up to you to decide if he is with Laurie or not while you read this.

Author Notes: This fic is full of smut and feelings! I hope you all love this little fic as much as I loved writing it. 💙 *Credit goes to gif owner.

📖 Master list  

Reblogs and Likes are amazing! Feedback and Comments are encouraged!

This work has Adult Content. If you click “Keep Reading” you have agreed that you are over the age of 18 and are willing to view such content.

Andy’s palms were sweaty as he sat in his Audi psyching himself up.

He stared out the wind shield taking in the shady looking building with its neon sign blaring into the dark night. He was taking a chance showing up at a place like this, but he was desperate.

Andy sucked in a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

He pulled his Red Sox cap low and covered his eyes with his shades as he crossed the threshold into the XXX Store.

He heard this place was running tricks. A Glory Hole out back for paying customers who could keep their mouths shut. Andy had no problem with that.

Soft Core Pornos played on small TVs embedded into the walls with copious amounts of toys, lubes and bondage gear stocking the shelves.

Andy casually strolled down the last isle pretending to look at some magazines before sauntering over to a grimy countertop placed at the back of the building.

An older woman sat at the oversized counter engrossed in an erotic novel as Andy shifted on his feet, clearing his throat.  

The woman’s eyes flicked up to Andy before she begrudgingly put her book down.

“It’ll be $50. Cash.” She said, sounding disinterested.

He ruffled through his wallet and deposited the money in her hand trying to not raise his head.

“Down the hall. Last door on the left.” She said, pointing with her thumb to the black curtain to her left.

“Have fun.” She feigned a smile and picked her book back up.

Andy passed through the curtain and walked down the hall intent with getting to his location. Various groans, creaky wood and the smell of sex filled the air as he strode by a handful of doors before arriving to his destination.

He stood in front of the door for a moment, unsure if he could actually go through with this. Maybe he could get his money back?

He heard a set of footsteps sound at the end of the hall and without thinking he grabbed the doorknob and dove into the room.

His heart pounded heavily against his chest as he leaned against the door feeling as though he almost got caught. He laughed to himself thinking how stupid he just looked to some guy who was headed to get his rocks off.

Andy peered around the tiny room as he took his hat off and stuck the brim in the back pocket of his jeans along with his sunglasses. A small bulb hung from the ceiling producing a dim yellow hue, a bench with a box of tissues and a small cut out in what looked like a wall covered in wood paneling.

He rubbed his face with dismay. How he ever talked himself into doing this…

Andy heard shuffling beyond the wall and then a faint, female voice.

“Hello?” You ponder with a quiet tone, unsure if anyone was in the opposite room.

You learned to not look through the hole. You made that mistake once and you never wanted to repeat it. Plus, the boss man didn’t want you to know who you’d be “servicing”. Something about privacy.

Andy cleared his throat nervously, his voice sounding just as timid. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. Hi.”

You smile at his apprehensiveness. It was rare that you got a Glory Hole Virgin.

“First time, huh?” Your smile coming across in your tone.

“That obvious?” Andy smirked as you let out a warm laugh.

“Yeah, but it’s ok. There’s nothing to be afraid off.” You scoot closer to the wall, the padded plastic bench you sat on crinkled under your weight.

“Why don’t you get relaxed. If you’re wearing a jacket you can hang it on the hook to the left.” You hear him shucking off his jacket in the tiny space. His movements cause the small bit of light pouring through the hole to flicker.

You motion for him to come forward when you slipped your hand through the hole, reaching out into the empty space until his hand found yours.

It caught you off guard, your hand jolting in his grip. “Shit. I’m sorry. Am I not allowed to do that?” He sounded genuinely concerned.

“It’s alright. I was just expecting a hard cock is all.” You laughed again, overcome with how sweet the man on the other side of the wall was. His larger hand encased yours until you maneuver his grip and lock hands with him.

“Oh…” He’s grateful you can’t see his face as it turns beat red. “That makes sense.”

“You’ve got soft skin.” You say, running your hands over his palm and up his wrist.

“Uh, thanks.” He responds with a dazed tone, enraptured with the way your hands feel tracing over his palm.

Andy bit his lip from the tender sensation. If your hands felt this nice on just his palm, he could only imagine how they would feel on his dick.

Blood began to pool in his cock, straining against his jeans with every trace you made from fingertip to wrist.

Boldly, you made a fist with your hand and grasped two of his fingers. Andy gasped at the lewd motion as you slowly jerked his fingers. You knew what was happening when the man went quiet.

“Are you hard?” Your lust filled voice cut through the spell Andy was under as he watched your tiny hand pull at his digits.

“Yes.” He declared, no longer ashamed of where he was.

“Good. Now, why don’t you take your cock out and let me feel all of you.”

You hear him shuffling his clothes around and a zipper sound before he speaks with unease, “Do you want me to just place it in your hands or…?”

“Yes, come here. I want to see how big you are.”

Andy stepped closer to the wall as your tiny hand wrapped around his impressive girth. You both gasp when your hand circles his rock hard length and slides down ever so slowly.

“Fuck.” Andy groaned, leaning his head back on his shoulders. Your tender touches make his blood boil.

“Does that feel good?” You ask, jerking your fist around his cock before grazing the crown with gentle caresses.

“You have no idea.”

His hips shake when you jerk his cock with a steady grip, traveling down his shaft and back up to swirl your palm around the head. Precum smears your hand prompting you to want more.

“Let me have a taste?” Your voice sounds innocent but it’s laced with a hint of yearning.

You carefully pull his cock through the cut-out in the wood paneling. His package takes up the entire hole, making him press his body against the wall when you bring his balls through to your side.

You stare at the straining appendage for a minute, overwhelmed with how thick he was. Your mouth watered and your thighs clenched together instinctively as a drop of precum leaked from the tip.

“Uh… everything ok?” Andy questions worriedly until he feels a hot swipe travel from the hairy base to the reddened tip.

His eyes slammed shut with a hearty growl when you dragged your tongue up the expanse of his girth before swirling around the head. You lick at the precum and relish it’s salty tang.

“You’ve got a magnificent cock, Sir.” You declared before stretching your mouth wide and swallowing him down.

Andy’s hips jolt forward not expecting you to take him completely in your mouth so suddenly. Your jaw stretched to accommodate his thickness as your hand fondles his sack with light caresses.

His deep, sinful moans are somewhat muffled but they hit your ears like a choir of angels.

Your bob your head on his length and jerk what you cannot fit, saliva slicking your grip as he thrusts a little in your hand. Your lips suckle at his frenulum, causing him to growl.

“God Damn. Your mouth feels amazing.”

You smile with glee around his throbbing cock, determined on getting him to fill your mouth.

Hard tugs jerk his thickness with prowess as your left hand pulls tenderly at his sack. You can’t help but vibrate his length with your joyful moans as you feel him swell over your tongue. Rarely did you get to service a cock like this.

Your core wept wantonly as you sucked on his cock. It pooled between your thighs and screamed at you to ease the tremendous ache caused by this stranger.

Andy out right whimpered when you poked at his urethra, gingerly nudging your tongue into the tiny hole.

He rested his head on the wood paneling, overcome with the intense sensations. He never had a woman use her tongue on him this way, it was devastatingly profound.

It’d been too long; he wasn’t going to last. He brought his fist up and banged on the wall with pleasant irritation.

You halted nervously, pulling off with a slurp, “Are you ok?”

“Shit- Yes. Sorry. It’s just been... it’s been a long time.” Andy sputtered. “Please, keep going.”

You heard the sadness in his voice and it tugged at your heart strings.

“A cock like this should never go a day without getting wet.” You crudely professed before taking his cock back into your mouth and sucking greedily at the bulging head, desperately needing to taste his seed

Andy felt his belly go taunt when you flicked your tongue around his cock head before swallowing him down. Your gag reflex kicked in as he met the back of your throat with a heavy punch.

He growled a low, “Fuck” as his body shook. His sack shrunk signaling his oncoming orgasm.

“Fill my mouth, Sir.” You command quickly before swallowing him down and gagging heavily around his length.

Andy’s muscles lock tight as his brain floods with endorphins. The rapture of finally hitting his peak via another person causes a full body shudder to pass through him and he cums with a strong howl.

He released his hearty load into your awaiting mouth and you eagerly swallowed it down. You slowly jerk his cock adding to the overstimulation of sucking at the tip making sure you got every last drop.

Sadly, you let his cock slip from your mouth and he pulls his dick through the hole.

You hear him panting from the powerful orgasm when he rests his body against the wall. He sluggishly stuffs his throbbing cock back in his jeans overwhelmed with the pleasure he so desperately needed.

“Um… I hope that was good for you.” Your usual meekness back in play.

Andy huffs out a laugh. “Oh, Darlin. If you only knew what you just did for me…” He trails off, not wanting to divulge too much.

You beam upon hearing how satisfied he was. Something about him made you feel different but you tried not to think about it. That wasn’t good for this line of work.

“Well, I’ll be here the same time next week… you know, if you want to stop by. Just ask for Room 6.” You hated the way you sounded, smacking your hand against your forehead. This wasn’t a restaurant.

He waited a minute before he speaking, twisting his ballcap in his hands.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect coming here… so thank you. Honestly.” His voice was full of sincerity and longing. You wished you could see his face; rules be damned.

He gathers his jacket, throws his hat on and shades his eyes before stepping out of the door with a smirk.

“I’ll see you next week.”

[current-words-publishing]

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[damselofblueroses]

The Name of The Rose

Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.

Chapter Summary: Kyungsoo takes you to a little noodle shop. Both of you were becoming aware of your own feelings, and during the dinner you were having some interesting conversations.

Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Chapter 2: The Hunter and the Goddess

You did not know how far Kyungsoo was planning to hold your hand like a treasure. You did not know if he was just enjoying the time then kick you out or he was going to change something between you, as holding hands or asking weird questions did not have a place in your relationship till now. What if he was planning something you never dare to think of? Maybe he’d encourage you to try new things since you were the one who telling that you were bored to death. What kind of new things was the first questions popped up in your mind, you knew Kyungsoo too well, that innocent school kid look was half true, he could put everyone in shame if he wanted to perform his charm and knowledge.

And you, unfortunately, knew that he was quite popular not only for his good-looking or his brain, but also some talents.

But you realized then that if he wanted to give you a demonstration, you would happily accept and let him to use those talents you really tried your best in order to keep yourself from questioning. If the man was Kyungsoo, you could be pathetically submissive and always eager to please him that you would do anything he wanted just to hear him telling you how good you were for him.

You exactly understood the assignment more than you asked for, the whole situation you were willingly putting yourself without an indicator was nothing but stupid, reckless, and risky to your mental and emotional health. There was a real threat ahead of you, if you were going to be over the moon and let yourself to dream the things you certainly could not reach, you would not overcome, and you were going to destroy your friendship with Kyungsoo.

Maybe that’s why you started to shake like stuck inside a blizzard. Kyungsoo sensed it, too. Maybe he thought it was very strange singe you were in the mid of fucking August and the weather was like a preparation room before entering to Hell, however he chose to keep his observation to himself, and he let your hand go.

You could scream.

God, you could scream so bad because of the loss of that bloody precious sensation.

Before you would say something, hell like you could do, he run his hand through your arm and drag you closer to his chest.

“It is about air conditioner.” he said, but in the blink of an eye all you could feel was the warmness, and how good his smell was. “And your little blue dress is literally little.”

His palm contacted your bare skin, the tip of his fingers were close to your neck, his touch was heavy, hot and it had you breathing a little bit faster than usual.

“Of course, my dress is little,” you attempted to save yourself from the misery. “I know it sounds impossible, but I am shorter even than you, Kyungsoo.”

“So funny you are.” the sudden look he gave you made your stomach flipped. “Sometimes I feel like I have to teach you not crossing my limits, I am a man after all.”

“What are you going to do?” you playfully whispered. “Bend me over your knees?”

“You have a point over there.” he was serious. “I would like to do.”

You hoped he did not mean it.

“I just say the truth.” you could not help but push him further. “Since when telling the truth is a sin? Cancel me if you want but sweet Jesus, Soo, you know you are smol.”

“Depends on which point you want to compare me with the other guys.” he claimed. “You never had a proper taste of me, darling girl, I am just a friend to you.”

Well, his comment hurt you, but you bit your tongue and quickly sealed a lid on the boiling heat inside of you. Your fingers rub at your forehead.

Proper taste of Kyungsoo, you thought, there was no beat of hesitation in your mind, you would willingly die for having a proper taste of him.

“Headache?” he asked and reached into his bag most probably he brought painkiller for you. Kyungsoo knew you to the bits, more than anyone else, he could read you like you were an open book to him. But this time, you wanted to keep it to yourself.

“No.” you nod. “How many destinations we have to arrive?”

“2 or 3. I am not sure,” he looked at around. “Most probably two. Are you hungry that much?”

“Yes, I am starving.” it was not a lie, you were really starving but not for food. Coming to Japan with Kyungsoo was a bad idea, you had never been unstable like this before. The invisible barrier between you and him made you mad. You knew that you were not one to unload the feelings onto someone, instead, you rarely bring them up, only when it was extremely unbearable for your heart. When you feel like explode. When you feel like suffocating. When the suffer become a load to carry.

To your dismay, you felt all of them right now.

“On your foot, soldier.” he carefully lowered his arm off your shoulder. “We came.”

“Okey.” you pull yourself to your feet and hurry to leave the bus. Kyungsoo pressed into the button, you step into the fresh air. “Now, to where?”

“This way.” he arched his brow and you two walked into the noodle restaurant in a quite silence. Your head was throbbing, heavier than usual with all those thoughts, hopes, secrets that you were keeping inside of you for a long time. You hardly realize that you reached to the place, but when Kyungsoo opened the door for you, you managed to save yourself from trouble.

The place smelled too good to be true. The smell of fresh noodles, side dishes made you dizzy, the cuteness of place as well itself.

Smol like Kyungsoo, you thought but you did not say this, you just looked for a table to sit. You turned to him, but he already found a place for you and held your fucking hand again. He did not think about his move, it was so obvious, he just did. Your heart was pondering while he headed to the corner of shop, more intimate with dim lights.

“We cannot be comfortable with those lights.” he pointed the roof out. “There are so bright for us. Is this table okey?”

“Yip yip.” you were disctracted by the pleasure of yummy smells. “I can feel the taste on my tongue even from these smells! Let’s sit!”

Kyungsoo chuckled to your enthusiasm, he knew that he’s being tormented by his inappropriate thoughts, but he could not stop thinking about you. Would you smile like this if he tells you how much he adores you for fucking years? Would you smile so gently like you smile when you see a blue rose or your smile was going to be fade like when you learned your grandfather passed away?

Kyungsoo shivered with the memory. It was the last thing he would want to recall, he wished to see you never ever like that. You could not smile for months.

But he could not prevent remembering your skin. So soft and so warm to the touch and your fucking lips, so plump, pink, pouty and always calling him to kiss you.

You looked so pretty today, it was not you were not pretty in general but today Kyungsoo felt like you were his, all his. There was no Baekhyun, no Chanyeol, no Jongdae which means peace to him because when you three came together, the only word could describe was cacophony, no one. He loved them more than any friends, but he secretly preferred having time just for you two. Just you and Kyungsoo. He could watch your excitement for a while, you were like a bird whose trying to decide where to set. He was waiting for the show you were going to put, when the waitress brought the menu, you brightly smiled to her and duck your head into it while unintentionally dancing.

Kyungsoo loved you more than he could tell for this. Being yourself in every situation.

You were bathed in the dim yellow light, and Kyungsoo clearly saw your upper half above the table. Navy blue cotton clung to your chest, tighter than Kyungsoo wished, that square cut-out revealed your pale skin and the blue necklace you wore was elegantly stayed above your collarbone. Kyungsoo could not define but your collarbone definitely doing something to him. He remembered that necklace with a blue, tiny rose, he gave it to you in your 23rd birthday.

He wished he could tell you that you were prettier even than blue roses.

Years passed out so quick, but Kyungsoo could not tell you how much he desired you during all those years.

He watched you, forgetting to blink. His gaze shifting over you, washing you with his admiration from head to toe. You were clueless, he knew that you were not aware of his feelings for you, but he was grateful for being able to absorb the extent of your beauty. Maybe you were not the prettiest girl of the town, for his eyes, you were the chef kiss for sure. He remembered he wanted to punch Chanyeol in the face for his comments when you got your pixie haircut, you were not looking like manly as he nonchalantly said, Kyungsoo never think he could find short hair as attractive but hell, he loved your new style. And your eyes, your goddam eyes, so big, outlined in carbon black liner that made your eyelids covered with a shimmery shadow.

You looked fucking gorgeous, and Kyungsoo was extremely vulnerable to your beauty. You gave him really hard times, literally and figuratively. And to his dismay, he fucking liked his bonds to you like he was an addicted.

“Have you decided on the orders?” Kyungsoo heard the waitress again and turned to her as he woke up from a dream. He realized he forgot to look at menu, before he could open it, you lifted your head and looked at him.

Damn you.

Damn your eyes.

Damn your lips.

“Did you?” you murmured. “I did.”

Kyungsoo could not get your lips out of his head, if he could, he would also decide what he was going to have. Godfuckingdamnit, he just wanted to drag you into his lap and kiss you fervently. Maybe you could understand how he has been feeling since fucking years if he would kiss you. He just wanted to ravage you like a starved man, and he fucking was.

“I want Inaniwa Udon.” you said as you were waiting for his reply. “And sake, if it is possible.”

Why not, he thought. As long as you were with him, he could allow you to drink as much as you wanted. Thinking you drinking without Kyungsoo gave him really heart attack, he knew you were not famous of having high alcohol tolerance.

“I will have Ramen Meat Tsukasa.” he smiled to the waitress. “Do you serve sake?”

“Yes, we do.” the waitress replied. She was very kind, and she was also smiling to your little dance figures. “Do you want two bottles, or one is enough?”

“I think one is enough for now.” Kyungsoo said this as a question to you, you hummed. “Maybe we will have another later.”

“Okey, I will bring your orders as soon as they are ready. Have a nice time.” the waitress made a little bow to both of you and rushed back to the kitchen.

“So, do you like the restaurant?” Kyungsoo asked to you. At his words, your smile widened, and the stars became visible in your eyes. Kyungsoo felt he started to melt inside.

“I love these tiny places.” you whispered sheepishly. “You know how much I love them, Kyungsoo.”

Yeah, Kyungsoo knew your preferences very well. What he did not know was the power your whisper has on him. It gave him electroshocks, he felt like a wriggling worm. He immediately fantasized on more intimate scenarios which you could whisper his name and God, he hated himself for that, but he could not stop. To be honest, even if it meant self-hatred, he did not want stop thinking about you. He loved to think about you far too much although he was perfectly aware of his mind wandering around extremely dangerous territory.

“For a second,” you stood up. “I have to use bathroom, excuse me.”

“Yeah.” that was his best shot since you started to walk because he did not see your back in this dress. His eyes followed you until you disappeared, drunk the sway of your hips. Kyungsoo’s opinion of your dress quickly changed, and he cursed Sehun under his breath, the cotton fabric wrapped your curves and gradually hugged your body till a hand above the knee, it multiplied your summer rose vibe.

He decided to steal that dress and set it on fire, fuck that dress, God, he hated it.

Kyungsoo wondered what was going to happen to him when you decided to go out with a guy. Not today, his mind reminded him but one day you were going to hang out with someone. Someone, but not him.

He squeezed his fingers just as he would strangle an invisible neck of unnamed enemy.

Actually, you went out for some dates in the past, but none of them worked for you. Kyungsoo vividly remembered how horrible those nights were for him till he could hear the story from you. To be honest, you were secretive about those dates, you did not give him details but he learned it did not work for you, it was enough.

Till now.

He did not want to admit it, but he was curious as fuck, why those dates did not work. What happened, why you were so adamant of not going out while you were extremely clever and pretty? Unfortunately, Kyungsoo was aware of not only your impacts on him but also on community. You were quite popular among the guys.

He was dying to learn the reason of your consecutive rejections, maybe it was about your taste of men. Maybe you were liking older guys, maybe you were liking younger ones, maybe you were preferring foreigners. Scenarios, choices, and possibilities were a lot, and Kyungsoo hated the truth to the bits, even though you had no idea how charming you were both physical and emotional, you could make a man falling love with you in the blink of an eye.

He hated it too much. He hated because he strongly believed that if you could think of him as a potential lover even for once, you would do something to make him fall for you.

You never try. You were always far from him, and he was already in enough pain because of the distance between you, even you were just beside of him.

“I am back!” your voice dragged him out of his dark thoughts. For a second, he thought he could beg you to tell him how you saw him as a man.

If you need a lover, let me know.

Kyungsoo wanted to tell this to you more than anything else, but he was a coward inside. He was afraid of losing you forever, he did not want to destroy the anything, if he could have you as a friend, as a study-buddy, he was okey. Not fine, but okey. At least he could be with you as his heart wanted.

“Food is not ready yet.” he choked out loudly enough to make your eyebrows knitted.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah yeah, I am fine.” he nonchalantly answered. What could he say? Would he say he was thinking when you were going to have a boyfriend, how much he was going to be sad? Or could he tell you how much he wanted tear your dress off your body and worship you? “I am hungry.”

“I have a theory about the hunger of men.” you sat on your chair comfortably and pointed a finger to him. He wanted to catch that finger and kiss it. “For example, if you are hungry, you can be really scary. When Baekhyun or Chanyeol is hungry, they are grumpy. Is this something special to you, or is this a feature of men? We can be polite while we are waiting for food.”

“Do not go there.” Kyungsoo said lowly. “How much you know about men? Only me, our squad members, and your family. We can be also polite, and I am not fucking scary.”

“Sweetheart, I know men more than you believe.” you blinked mischievously, enough to startle him. “If a man is hungry, even the face expression transformed.”

“May I ask?” he started, but he could feel his hand beneath the table automatically turned into a fist. “How did you collect the information to support your weak theory?”

“By having dinners with them.” you grinned like a fucking Cheshire cat, and Kyungsoo hated to see also that. “You are not so different from each other, being so full of yourselves.”

You knew you were playing with fire.

You were trying to provoke him with your words. You were aware of Kyungsoo’s dislike of being compared with others.

Unconsciously you decided to make him mad at you in order to see if he had a feeling, even a little spot in his emotional radar, for you. If you could manage to annoy him that much, you knew he would talk. He would give hints at least, but he would do something.

You were more than okey even for a hint, you realized you were up to your hair, you were done with waiting for a sign. You realized your burned yourself out to the bitter end, you were done with waiting for him. You wanted nothing but him, you could say you did not and you would be lying your ass off if you did.

He stared at you as his expression was hard to decipher. He could be wanting to beat the shit out of you or thinking for an answer to shut your mouth for all eternity. Both of the options were possible.

“Your meals are ready.” the waitress came back with the gigantic bowls. “Enjoy, and bon appetite.”

“Thank you very much.” you bowed at her as she placed your meals onto table. As the smell attacked your nose, you rushed to pick your chopsticks. You had a sweet spot for Udon, but it did not mean you were not going to steal from Kyungsoo. You opened the water bottle, took a long sip, and turned to Kyungsoo to ask if he wanted water or not, and you fucking froze.

He was pouring sake for you just like the most important job he has been doing till now.

You were very fond of the level of attention; he was giving to everything he did. You could watch him forever, anything he did turned into art for you. God, if you could see your face right now, you would clearly understand how he affected you, your lips parted and your breathing was becoming heavier, holy shit, because he was pouring fucking sake!

“Can you stop staring at me like a freak?” he asked. You keel over in the chair, nearly shooting water out of your nose. Quickly, you swallowed and covered your mouth and averted your eyes while blushing like a schoolgirl but what made you blush was not being caught by him, you exactly saw that he was blushing while he scolded you. He was fucking blushed, you were %100 percentage of sure, his cheeks were turned into pinkish. “Here you go.”

Your hands were shaking a bit, but you managed to hold the cup.

“Thank you.” and you drunk it. You really needed something to cool you. “May I have the bottle?”

You knew Kyungsoo would make the process slower and to be honest, if he was going to take charge of sake, you would not nothing but staring at him like there was no tomorrow.

Tomorrow… You were feeling nervous about the future. You wanted to keep both of you at this moment. Just you and Kyungsoo. Together.

You shook your head just as you wanted to clean your mind from negative thoughts. The moment you had was the most important one and you did not want to destroy it by thinking about what was going to be happen. Kyungsoo was with you right now, even though you were not sure if you would last for the end of this trip.

He handed the bottle to you, you nested it close to yourself and poured another one. You drunk it too while Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow which you wholly ignored, then processed to eat your Udon. Flavour erupted on your tastebuds, and you started to eat like you did not have a meal in the last week.

“Holy shit.” you cursed when you gave a little break only to pour another one to yourself and Kyungsoo’s empty cup. “This is incredible.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Kyungsoo unwillingly laughed at you. “Please remember to breath, I do not want to be ended in the emergency.”

“You do not have to accompany me if the noodle stuck on my throat.” you drunk your third, allowed the liquid to slide down your throat and a warmth burned in your chest as it stayed there. You poured the fourth one. “My Japanese is better than yours.”

“Due to the speed of your consumption of sake,” he started with a fair point, you had to admit. “I am not sure if you can perform your Japanese skills. Instead, it looks like you will be bubbling in the end of this night, of course if you do not manage to kill yourself. Damn, take it easy.”

“No worries, I am a tough cookie.” you arched your brow, and your eyes fixed your Udon. “I will not be drunk.”

“What makes me worried,” his eyes continued to remain fixed on you. “Your unexpected fondness of sake. Do we have to order the second o-

“Yes.” you interrupted him. “Order.”

You knew that on the contrary what you said to him, you were going to be drunk. Hell, you wanted to be. A smile tugged up on your lips as you took another mouthful bite of your food. You wanted to be a drunk tonight and relax. Kyungsoo did not refuse your wish, he ordered another bottle while you were sending the fifth cup to your stomach.

“Now, tell me.” he jabbed. “How many dates you had till now?”

“Why are you asking this out of everything?” you asked with a sincere curiosity.

“I want to elaborate your theory, but before doing that, I have to collect information on the experimental group.”

“Ah.” you swallowed thickly. Hell, what it would be, damn Kyungsoo and his logic. “Well, I had three dates which you know. I had two more, which you did not know so the count is five.”

“Five.” he blinked. “Five men are not enough to hold a theory such includes everyone on this planet, and you were telling me we all same with a great confidence.”

“They were pretty same.” you turned your head away and poured another sake. You could feel that Kyungsoo was getting more tense after every cup you drunk, but you had zero fucks to give. “I was ended up with disappointment.”

“Why?” he caught you off guard. “You never tell me the whole story. What was wrong?”

They were not you, you thought in the safe silence in your mind but there was no enough amount of sake would make you tell this to him in the world. Maybe you start to feel a little bit dizzy but even if you would be on your knees, you would not confess the real reason.

“I do not know.” Yeah, there was not enough amount of sake would make you to confess, but the amount of sake which settled in the pit of your stomach made you more talkative about your affairs. Maybe it was about the need of showing Kyungsoo that you were a fucking girl, you could attract people also. “They were not made for me, I guess.”

“This is the result.” Kyungsoo furrowed his brows. His icy resolve frozen across his features. “I want to hear the story behind this result.”

Kyungsoo could not believe how he would let you to drink your seventh cup of sake and open the second one but in the deep of his heart, he knew the real reason. He wanted you to talk. God, he needed you to talk his ear off. He could die to learn what type of guy would attract you, and he could try to be that man.

“I am not sure how to explain that but,” you rapidly shook your head again. “It is all fucking disappointments for me. I do not know what they think about me, but when I go out with someone, I always ended up in home, calling Baekhyun or Chanyeol and we talked on why I felt like shit.”

Kyungsoo knew that getting you to talk always meant for extra efforts, he never pushed you. He never dragged you into the conversations you clearly did not have an intention to have.

Till now.

Providing you with company and asking nothing in return was not his best choice today. He was okey with asking nothing in return, he never expect anything in return for his company, but today he wanted to learn about your affairs.

“Could you decide?” he whispered. “I mean, why you felt like shit in your words?”

“Do you prefer more refined vocabulary?” you chuckled, and Kyungsoo understood that you had to be dizzy right now. You had two types of chuckles, and this one definitely a result of alcohol.

He did not prevent you from pouring the eighth one.

“No, speak as you want.” he did not let you go out of his palms. You were in his palms right now, he hooked you in his net, and this was going to be first and last he dragged you to a place you obviously did not want to engage.

However, he needed to learn. Just for once, he crossed all boundaries between you. All rules.

“Putting aside your quite vocabulary,” he pushed you to continue. “What was wrong?”

“Everything.” your eyes flitted up his face. Your gaze fuelled the excitement that already started to make its way in Kyungsoo’s lower stomach, an excitement that has been brewing since years as you have been lingering in front of him for an extremely long time.

“I cannot say that they were bad people, on the contrary, they were lovely.” This was not what Kyungsoo wished to hear, your words made his heart flipped, but not in a pleasurable way. “They were kind, nice, clever and to be honest good-looking. However, I did not feel anything towards them. I tried, Kyungsoo, I tried to do my best, but I am tired of ending up with same result. I did not find them attractive.”

You suddenly remembered the kiss of one of your dates gave you. You were not sure if you could call it as a kiss, Chanyeol and Baekhyun, those dorks, laughed at you their asses off when you told them that guy pressed his lips to yours and you immediately pushed him so strong, enough to made him lost his balance and fell on his butt.

“Were they,” Kyungsoo cleaned his throat.” Good companies? I am trying to understand why it cannot work for you.”

“No, they were.” you ponder, then a laugh fallen from your lips. “They really were, especially the last one. He was a good company even if he was a bit handsy.”

Kyungsoo’s chopsticks stuttered. You said it nonchalantly, you were dizzy as fuck, he could see that, but you said it to him as if it did not mean anything that the unnamed bastard invited his hands over your body, instead he should be on his fucking knees for you. His teeth shattered; he could feel his jaw was clenched with the thoughts he had to refuse for the sake of God.

“Being a little bit handsy does not sound a good company to me.” he said between his teeth. “Is that why you ended up feeling like shit? Did he force himself on you?”

If he did, God mercy on him because Kyungsoo was not going to. You were already drinking your tenth cup; he was sure he could learn that bastard’s name. He knew that right now, he was crossing your boundaries and taking advantage of your current hiatus, he was not better than that bastard, but he was not going to stop.

“No, he touched my inner thigh during the dinner.” you whispered. “Then he kissed me after the ride to my home he gave.”

“And?” Kyungsoo had to take a deep breathe and he poured sake for himself, even though he wanted to focus on you. “Did he ask at first place?”

“He did not.” Kyungsoo felt his heart was tightening in his chest because of anger. He wanted to find that fucking bastard and fuck the shit out of him. He already started seeing you in front of the door of your home, and that moron dragged you into his arms and kissed you without asking. Did they really think, this would be romantic or manly? This was sexual attack. Kyungsoo could not endure to imagine you while that moron run his fucking pawns over your face. Pulling you into a kiss if he could call that a kiss. His blood was boiling as he could not stand someone disappointed you, destroying your ideas and hardly built self-confidence. He hated to see that, he has been watching you since the first day you met, and he was fucking aware of your self-perceptions. He bit back a wave of curses, and he resisted the dire need to ask you this guy’s name and address in order to chop his head.

“He had to ask for your content.” he literally growled, enough to make the customers at near tables turned to look at you. You blinked.

“I pushed him.” you whispered. “And he fell on his butt.”

For a second, Kyungsoo did not understand what you said, but when he understood he could not help but laughed.

“I could kill someone to see that moment.” he mumbled. “I wish I could see.”

“It was not a good memory.” you admitted. “I really hated every moment of that memory. He was a good guy, but at the end, when he kissed me, I wanted to puke my stomach out.”

Kyungsoo lost the little trail of joy.

“He was not a good guy.” He literally growled.

Suddenly, the tension was transforming into something different. Your face was becoming too warm, and your blood pressure was rocketing into sky.

It was neither Udon not sake.

You raised your eyebrows as you looked at Kyungsoo as you wanted to ask what he meant, but you kept your question to yourself.

“Why did you not tell me?” he asked. “I knew you are not talkative about these, but you could talk with me at least when you had experienced a shitty guy like that filthy bastard.”

“Well, excuse me for being so clueless,” the filter between your tongue and brain stopped working at that moment, and you lost it. “But that was my first and last kiss, and I was shocked!”

Kyungsoo’s chin was dropped. He stared at you as becoming senseless to any other sound. He took a set of full seconds to actually register your words, then his eyes widen.

You were not aware of the weight of your confession. Your mind was foggy and you already lost yourself in Kyungsoo.

“What?”

This was the best shot of him.

“It was my first kiss.” the heat of your face became unbearable. “And it was unexpected, I did not give him my consent, I was definitely in shock.”

Kyungsoo listened to your words.

“Are you,” he heard his voice. “Are you a virgin?”

“Do not say it like a blasphemy.” you could not help but protested. He looked at you as he was having a heart attack.

He actually was.

He guessed that you were not experienced but a virgin.

Godfuckingdamnit, he did not expect to hear that.

“And that bastard destroyed your first kiss.” he could not prevent himself from punching his thigh. Harshly. He was really out of his mind due to anger, he knew that he could not be with you, but destroying an experience for you was equal crossing his limits. He noted finding that guy when you come back to your homes mentally. He did not know when, how or which way but he was going to find that scumbag and make him pay for his wrong deed.

You looked so vulnerable. How could that moron dare to destroy an important moment of your life?

“Yeah, he did.” you partially smiled, Kyungsoo could not believe you were smiling. Did you lose your shit? He was supposed to ask you why you were smiling like a freak; you lifted your eyes to his. “But talking with you made me happy.”

Kyungsoo hated himself too much.

He made you talked about a horrendous memory in order to learn about your preferences. He even let you drink one and half bottle of sake. He used the old excuse in the book however after learning this incident, he realized once again, you were his priority to take care of, to look after, you had to be happy, healthy, and successful. You had to live your heart as you wished, and Kyungsoo was sure as fuck he was going to do everything in his power for you to blossom.

You were his rose after all.

Every nerve in his body may steered him to you, attracted to you like a magnet, he could refrain his feelings. Even if you were not going to come to him, he was not going to push you never again. Never.

“Next time, tell me before a date.” he snorted. “It seems to me you are bad on choosing a man, that piece of shit did it all wrong.”

Your heart was pounded in your chest.

Did Kyungsoo just point the issue of asking for content or was there anything more he indicated?

If he said something was wrong, it meant he knew the true way of doing it, fixing and giving you a proper memory. He never talk if he did not know the right way.

“How?” you asked to him with your big-doe eyes. Kyungsoo startled for a second, then understood what you asked.

“What do you mean with how?” Kyungsoo stared at you. “He had to ask for consent first, obviously. If it is yes, a man can continue.”

“What if I would say yes?” you could not help. You could not stop. There was a frustrating fire in the pit of your stomach, made you uninterested to anything but Kyungsoo. Maybe you did not know many things but you were aware of only Kyungsoo could do something about it. You did care it anymore, you just wanted Kyungsoo to show you the right way.

“There is a progress.” Kyungsoo cursed himself for telling you this. “It depends on how much you wish to move, but basically there are three bases and before every step you are going to take, you have to ask your partner if she or he is still okey with the progress.”

“I see.” you nod.

Both of you started to think about each other in that progress. What would it be, how you react to each other after waiting since the first day you met. Both of you rejected to think about it, and both of you know that you were going to imagine it when you were going to be alone in the safety of your rooms.

“That’s why that scumbag did it all wrong. If you want someone to touch you, remember asking for consent is the most important rule.” Kyungsoo disgusted by the idea of someone touching you. Even thinking about him giving him headache, he was annoyed by the fact that you were going to choose someone, and you were learning the rules from Kyungsoo.

To choose someone.

He was mad. He was angry. God, he wanted to set something on fire.

“Is there any different rule?” you could not take your eyes off Kyungsoo.

“Many.” he was back to giving short answers.

“I want you to teach me.” you said without thinking.

“Ha?”

Kyungsoo was not sure if he could hear you correctly or not.

“You told me that guy did it all wrong.” You were not going back from here this time. You were fucking not. “I want you to teach me the right way.”

Kyungsoo was sure there was no capacity left his lungs to breathe. He kept looking at you, you waited his response patiently.

Was it you or sake?

You did not know. You did not care.

You just wanted to feel Kyungsoo. Helping you on the issue was only something he could do, by your -twisted by alcohol- logic, you persuaded yourself, if he put you in this situation, he had to help you getting out of it.

“How much you drink?” you heard Kyungsoo, but you were already decided what you were going to do. He was going to say yes. He had to say yes.

“I am not drunk, Soo.” you said. “I am sober as fuck. Teach me.”

Kyungsoo stared at you for a while, then he stood up and reached to your hand.

“Come.” he said. “We are going back to hotel.”

Kyungsoo felt like a hunter, he finally grabbed your hand, while he was paying for food, he did not let you go away from him. Instead, he pressed your body to his, you closed your eyes when your chest perfectly pressed on his toned forearm. You heavily breathed, Kyungsoo led you out of the restaurant. You immediately headed to the way back to the bus station, but he stopped you.

“We are going to take a cab.” Kyungsoo. “Faster.”

You could not help but laugh at his eagerness to be back. Your heart started to sing inside of your chest, for a magnificent moment you could almost make yourself believe that Kyungsoo wanted you as much as you wanted him. You wanted to devour him you did not know what made you bold at this level but you just wanted to drown in him. You knew that he was going to lecture you about what you had to do when you have a date, when you would be back at hotel, but you really hoped for at least he was going to give you a demonstration on kissing someone.

If he would not, you did not know you could overcome with that moment.

Kyungsoo was having an existential crisis. He was not sure if he understood you correctly, but he had to get you back to the hotel, he was sure of it since he really did not know until when he could control himself just like he did not want to rip that fucking dress off you and have you over and over.

At that moment, he saw a cab was coming to your direction and he turned to you.

He saw your eyes, shining by pure desire.

He lost his shit for the first time in seven years of your friendship.

He pulled you between his arms, his face was fucking close to you.

“It is okey, Kyungsoo.” you literally cooed.

He did not waste a minute and caressed your face.

[mnemo-li]

Calebros: A Rant About My Favorite VTM NPC

I do love the newer Vampire: the Masquerade content, but sometimes the writing leaves a lot to be desired. A prominent example is - what in my opinion is - the butchery of Calebros’ character in Beckett's Jyhad Diary.

While I do love seeing the more brusque side of Calebros’ personality, I don’t think I’ve ever recalled him being this vulgar in the original Clan Novels. He was definitely not dropping the f-bombs left and right, and even his gruff manner had more to do with dry humor, sarcasm, and keeping up the dignified image fit for a clan leader. I do realize that this series of chat is set much after his whole ordeal as Prince of New York is over, so maybe the experience really changed him. However, the in-universe explanation of his drastic shift in personality is lacking– it is most likely the result of a change in writers which led to inconsistent writing and characterization.

Here are some examples of scenes that presents his characterization in a more nuanced light.

Scene 1: The Nictuku Accusation

“They would have eaten me, I tell you!” “I believe you, Jeremiah,” Calebros said in a forced, calm tone. He was tired of nodding politely, of reassuring his clanmate. Jeremiah could be a difficult person to like at times. This was rapidly becoming one of those times. “Don’t you humor me!” Jeremiah snapped. “I’ve been coming to you about this for weeks now.” Seems more like years, Calebros thought. “And still you’ve done nothing. Nothing!” Jeremiah paced around, gesticulating wildly. There was no second chair by Calebros’s desk, and for this very reason. He mostly didn’t like guests, didn’t want guests, didn’t want to encourage them to sit down, to take a load off and stay for a while. Most anyone who had reason or inclination to visit Calebros was irate, complaining, or tiresome. Jeremiah happened to be all three presently. “That is not true,” Calebros assured him. Jeremiah snorted in disgusted. “What, then? Tell me. What have you done?” “I have considered quite carefully your report.” “Ha! Like I said, nothing. ‘Considered my report…’” Jeremiah repeated contemptuously. “This is what I think of you and your reports—” he said, grabbing a handful of papers from the nearest stack on Calebros’s desk. Jeremiah made to fling them into the air— Instantly, Calebros’s hand shot out and latched around his visitor’s wrist. Talons pricked undead flesh ever so slightly. “Believe me,” said Calebros evenly. “You do not want to do that.” They faced each other for a moment, one monstrous creature restraining the hand of another. Jeremiah’s fingers, biting into the papers, were long and grotesquely thin, little more than needles of bone. His entire body was thin and hard and covered with knots, bulging masses of hardened tissue, like an old, gnarled swamp tree. Finally he stopped resisting Calebros and returned the reports to the desk. “I’m sorry,” Jeremiah said and resumed his pacing, just as intently if less frenetically.

This is from the Nosferatu clan novel. Here, Jeremiah is trying to get Calebros to believe that there truly are Nictukus dwelling in the sewers. Calebros is, frankly, tired of hearing the folk tale especially when he has other pressing matters to deal with. Yet, even with his patience paper thin, he does not lash out at his broodmate. He is shown to be deeply introverted, anti-social perhaps, but he does not let his own nature affect his duties. As the Nosferatu primogen - as the leader of the clan - he has to listen to the concerns of his family, no matter how absurd. He knows when to express his authority, and he never abuses it. Again, no f-bombs dropped.

Scene 2: The Salt Lake

“Geez, what am I, your mother?” Emmett asked. “No,” Calebros said. “You are my brother, my broodmate.” “Brood, litter, whatever. We were both chosen to suck the old blood tit, so who am I to ask questions?” Calebros sighed. Blood tit, indeed. “That’s not how you remember it.” Now it was Emmett’s turn to sigh. “Don’t do this. Don’t get all… You always do this, get all touchy-feely we’re-all-brothers-in-the-blood, when you soak your head, blah, blah, blah…” “Make light of it if you will—” “I will. Thank you very much. Got enough salt here?” Emmett flicked some at Calebros.

This is from the Nosferatu clan novel. Here, Calebros has just came up from his meditation within the mud hole / salt lake. He is shown to be introspective and even sentimental. In terms of character voice, his more poised speaking style and inner monologue is contrasted against Emmett’s rough, colloquial style.

Other Sources

In the Calebros graphic novel, a similar scene is shown where Calebros is depicted to be trying and failing to remember his past before he became a vampire, losing his mind as he mixes up imagination with false memories. His inner dialogue in the graphic novel shows him saying:

“Do I tell him that his prince, his... compatriot?, is losing his mind? Never.”

This very much reflects his true nature. In Vampire: the Masquerade, there is a system of nature vs demeanor. According to his character sheet, his demeanor is that of a “director” while his nature is a “martyr (penitent)”.

Director: To the Director, nothing is worse than chaos and disorder. The Director seeks to be in charge, adopting a "my way or the highway" attitude on matters of decision-making. The Director is more concerned with bringing order out of strife, however, and need not be truly "in control" of a group to guide it. Coaches, teachers, and many political figures exemplify the Director Archetype.

Martyr: The Martyr suffers for his cause, enduring his trials out of the belief that his discomfort will ultimately improve others' lot. Some Martyr simply want the attention or sympathy their ordeals engender, while others are sincere in their cause, greeting their opposition with unfaltering faith in their own beliefs. Many Inquisitors, staunch idealists, and outcasts are Martyr Archetypes.

Penitent: The Penitent exists to atone for the grave sin she commits simply by being who she is. Penitents have either low self-esteem or legitimate, traumatic past experiences, and feel compelled to "make up" for inflicting themselves upon the world. Penitent Archetypes aren't always religious in outlook; some truly want to scourge the world of the grief they bring to it. Repentant sinners, persons with low self-esteem, and remorseful criminals are examples of the Penitent Archetype.

All of these quotes, if feel, matches very much with the Calebros I knew from the clan novel saga. Below are also a set quotes detailing Calebros’ inner dialogue in his graphic novel.

“As prince, only I can save them, only I can keep them from looking where they shouldn’t. A force exists underneath this city, sleeping, and it must remain so, lest we all perish.

“Augustin, my sire, left us to investigate the Nictuku, and came back to me with this information. Could this be Gehenna? The Final Nights? When the Ancients awake to devour their errant children? Can it be stopped? Should it be stopped? Everything that is done is a hope of staving off the inevitable. Why?”

“My embrace into this world was a foregone conclusion, made for me by Augustin. It is no different for anyone else. Why then do we not welcome the coming Armageddon? Exchange one world for another. It sounds almost painless, except I would never accept such a course, neither would my fellow Nosferatu. Neither would my fellow Kindred, for that matter.”

He is incredibly contemplative, and determined too, willing to fight against the inevitable apocalypse of the vampires. As long as his clan and the Kindred as a whole does not give up, does not give in the the despair of Gehenna, he too will be willing to fight for the survival of others.

Scene 3: Against a Master Manipulator

The character of Hesha is... complex. I see him as sort of a sweet-talking, cunning, charismatic cult leader. Here is a dialogue between him and Calebros.

“No harm was done,” Hesha said softly, his voice still the slightest bit scratchy from the ordeal he’d undergone. “As you say,” said Calebros, not looking up and continuing to write furiously. “You concede without agreeing.” Hesha laughed quietly. Calebros’s head whipped up. Angry words were ready on his lips, but the Egyptian’s smile was not mocking. The Setite obviously realized the weakness of his position, physically and strategically, as well as the fragility of their alliance. “Candor is important between friends,” Hesha said. “Otherwise, perceived insults take hold and fester.” “I am quite accustomed to festering,” Calebros said curtly. “I fear that I’m growing so as well,” Hesha said, squeezing one of the boils that stood raised about one of his many open wounds until the canker popped, and frothy pus ran down his arm. He laughed quietly again. Calebros punctuated a written sentence with a particularly violent period. “Your woman willfully disobeyed her instructions.” “She exercised discretion,” Hesha countered. “She blatantly disregarded the safety of my people.” “If anything had gone wrong,” Hesha said, “it would be Pauline lying torn on the ground. Your people would have faded into the night, none the worse for wear.” Calebros fumed. Probably Hesha was correct—but the Nosferatu was not about to admit as much. “I will speak with her,” Hesha said reasonably. “She has not encountered those of your clan before. She’s not aware of how strongly your predilection for…” “Cowardice?” Calebros suggested accusingly. “Prudence, I was going to say. She’s not aware of how strongly your predilection for prudence runs.” Good choice of words, Calebros thought. But, then, Hesha always chose his words carefully, always seemed to know just the right thing to say. It was discomforting in a way, how easily the Setite could alleviate tension with just a few words. Go ahead, Eve. Take a bite of the apple. Adam might like some too. But it seemed that they needed one another—and that outweighed their natural and mutual tendencies to distrust one another. Just barely.

Hesha’s actions managed to get under Calebros’ nerves, as seen in his curt speech, his furious writing, his accusatory reply to Hesha. He is angry for the safety of his clan (which, as seen from all the other sources, is something very dear to him). He is even shown to be stubborn, refusing to admit that Hesha was correct. Even still, he keeps his head rather than loose his cool completely. He also realises Hesha’s smooth words for what they are- manipulation. He is willing to compromise and form a sort of alliance with Hesha too, despite of his distrust and personal feelings.

Calebros and Ramona

I found the strange friendship Calebros had with the Gangrel Ramona to be incredibly touching, and tragic due to the turns it took towards the end (which I won’t spoil). Below are some excerpts from the Nosferatu clan novel showing Ramona’s initial meeting with Calebros and his later assessments of her character.

Neither Pauline nor the other girl, Ramona, had been subjected to the full brunt of facing a Nosferatu. Not until now, that is, when they were brought into Calebros’s presence. He did not hide his true appearance from them. And he could read the dismay, the fear and disgust, on their faces. Of the two, Pauline made the worthier attempt, attempt, to maintain her demeanor of professional detachment—perhaps Ruhadze had taught her well. The Gangrel, unsurprisingly, was not so couth. She gawked, both at Calebros and at Hesha in his current condition, and she hid her revulsion quite poorly, if she tried at all. […] Ramona looked at Calebros again, a more measured look this time, trying to see through the deformities. Good girl, Calebros thought. Young and brash, but not stupid.

Ramona reached for a calendar on Calebros’s desk, but tossed it back when she realized it was from 1972. “That’s still a whole month, and nobody knows where Leopold was that whole time. He could have gone back to the cave.” Smart girl, Calebros thought. He was leading her along the same path of reconstructing events that he had followed.

He compliments her intelligence again and again, and seems genuinely fond of her. Which I believe is why, after he became Prince of New York, he allows her a private audience with him to which he offered her a safe passage out of town which she rejects, viewing his actions as a betrayal. Below is an excerpt from what I think is the Clan Brujah novel.

The hunched form stepped forward, leaning heavily against the seatbacks as he came. Ramona kept straining to pick out the sound of broken gasps that must accompany such labored progress, but the air did not stir. "You had requested an audience, my dear. A private audience. I have gone to some pains to secure a place where we might be alone. Privacy is such an indulgence here. All too often, I find myself unable to justify the expense of importing it. And there is always someone else jealous of such decadence. But you have not come to hear of my distractions. Sit here, next to me, and tell me why you have come.”

[…]

“Calebros chuckled low, a sound like an engine turning. "No, I don't imagine you would. I will miss your straightforward style, Ramona. I find it refreshing. But already you know that there is no longer any place for you here. In the midst of battle—against the Sabbat and later, against Leopold and the Eye—we could afford certain marriages of convenience. But these partnerships will not survive the challenges of peacetime. Your associates, Mr. Ruhadze and Mr. Ravana, they found themselves in much the same position. Each has already left New York.”

[…]

“Calebros was silent for a time, letting her wind down. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you with the Eye, Ramona. And I'm sorry you will have to leave us. Believe me, I would like nothing better than to find a place for you here. I will have sore need of people who can be relied upon in the nights ahead. But you know what you would be up against if you remained here— the posturing, the none-too-subtle snubbing, the outright backstabbing. You are a rarity among our kind, Ramona. But because you are different, you will be hated and eventually destroyed if you stay among the society of the damned. Know that I will remember our time together fondly. If I can be of any assistance to you in relocating..." "No, I understand. It's 'thanks for your help; here's your bus ticket.' Well, I don't need any of your favors. I don't like the strings attached to them. And I resent the fact that you think I'm so stupid that I'll let you screw me over and then thank you for it." "Ramona...”

Again, even during his tenure as Prince of New York he is so damn eloquent, I definitely can’t fathom the word fuck ever slipping out of his mouth. He is compassionate, helping Ramona perhaps for future gains too, but mainly I believe he genuinely wants to do something right, give her the happy ending she deserves for once.

Moreover, I have a soft spot for this quote of Calebros pondering about Ramona’s nature, why she’s always so angry at the world, why every word out of her mouth sounds like an accusation. It showcases well his world-weariness, a cynical attitude that hides his concerns for others.

What have you seen that makes you so angry, so bitter, little one? Calebros wondered. Family killed? Have you been betrayed? How many times, I wonder. You’d best get over it, if you hope to survive.

So... yeah. I’d pay money to see an accurate portrayal of Calebros in a newer media otherwise I might have to write my own fanfic pairing my OC with him

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

Sackler, my love. Sackler. I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed him to give me a little slap or a few. I'll let you and Sackler decide..

A/N: @mariesackler I LITERALLY CANNOT WITH YOU... I HOPE YOUR CUNT IS AS SLICKED UP AS MINE WAS WHEN I WROTE THIS. I LOVEY OU MOST MY DARLING!

Warnings: Cock slapping, face fucking, cum eating, cum swallowing, using cum as lipgloss if that’s a warning?, all of the cum I can fit in to one fic, mentions of huge cocks (horsecocks if you will), DOM!Sackler, degradation, slight edging, slight breeding kink, doggystyle, dirty talk, stuffing like an Xmas turkey, just all of the smut possible, a little fluff at the end for my baby 

*SNAP* 

‘My kitty misses you baby 😘’ 

*Three bubbles immediately popping up* 

‘When I get home, you had better be on your knees waiting for me, kid’ 

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach as your cunt clenched the open air. Your smirk staring through your phone as you marveled at the skill and lighting it took just to send a simple picture.

You bit your lip, bringing a finger to them as you rubbed the moist skin, looking at your closet to figure out what to wear to impress him even more. 

He was out on an audition, the prepping before meaning there was no horsing around or funny business to be had. He had to get into the zone, going over his lines endlessly, even dressing in character to nail it down just right. 

The pent up tension was too much for you. It had been two weeks. TWO WEEKS. Since he touched you, made you feel utterly full of him while he whispered sweet nothings over your sated figure. 

You missed the sound of the headboard knocking, the smell of his musk wafting through your nose as his sweat would drip over your tits while he fucked you into oblivion. 

His dirty words would have you moaning like an absolute whore for his cock. You were practically on the verge of tears as you got up from the bed, rifling through your clothes while your body shook in the open air of the bedroom. 

You slipped on a lace number, the cleavage spilling out the top of it in the best way as you tightened the straps of the garter belt, your thighs looking extra plump as the curve of your ass hugged the thong in a sinful way.

You finished the look with a killer red lip, smacking your mouth together to spread the gorgeous color that paired so perfectly with your garb. You tapped your foot, glaring at yourself in the mirror to decide whether or not you’d finish the masterpiece off by wearing his favorite pumps. The ones that he stated ‘made you look like his favorite pornstar’ had been sitting collecting dust since the beginning of the year, begging to be worn. 

“Oh, what the hell,” you relented, sauntering over to place them on your feet, then admiring your figure in the mirror, “Mhmmm, yes ma’am,” you playfully smacked your own ass, satisfied with this plan as you glanced at the time on the clock. 

He’d be home any minute now. You readjusted your tits in the mirror, puckering your lips to make sure nothing had gotten out of place, and clicked over to the front door, situating yourself like the good girl you were. 

The burning sensation in your pelvis a full-on flame as you heard his heavy footfalls climbing the stairway. You jumped a little, so excited you’d taken this chance to rile him up, waiting in anticipation for what he was going to punish you with for being such a bad girl.

The key turned in the lock, his heavy body pushing it open, his head hanging low looking at the knob while he slammed it tight, locking the deadbolt before dropping his messenger back with a thud. 

He let out a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair as he threw the keys in the bowl, then turned around to find you perched looking so delicious. 

“My lil’ brat does take orders,” he growled, his t-shirt hugging his taut muscles as he surveyed his prize in front of him, “doesn’t mean I’m not gonna punish you for makin’ me all hard before my audition.” 

You whined, watching his long legs come in front of you, doe eyes gazing up at his dilated pupils, “I know I was a bad girl, baby,” putting your hands behind your back while you arched your back to show your jugs to him, “I deserve everything you’re gonna give me,” showing your tongue as you wiggled your ass for him.

“Such a lil’ slut I have,” he cooed, running a thick finger down the bridge of your nose, showing it in your mouth as he watched those cherry red lips suck them feverishly, “so fuckin’ needy for my cock,” your whines emitting from deep in your belly as he pulled his digits in a pop from your face. 

He chuckled darkly, taking his shirt off to reveal his thick body, undoing his belt and his fly as you watched hungrily. His cock popped out like a jack in the box, the springing making it bob deliciously in front of you as the tip wept a thick bead of precum. You licked your lips unconsciously, your tongue falling out again as you moaned from the sight. 

“You want me to fuck your face that bad?” he ran a thick hand up and down the shaft, inching closer as it touched your waiting tongue ever so slightly, a single tear falling down your cheek in anticipation. 

Just as you thought you’d get a release, he whipped the side of your face as hard as he could with his member, the stinging of it radiating as you audibly cried from the blow. 

He reveled in your cries for him, grabbing your face with his free hand as he wiped a tear from the other cheek, “you’re gonna take my whole cock, kid,” pushing your uninjured side to face him and slapping you with his dick to match, “and you’re gonna swallow like the good whore you are,” bringing your half bitten lip to line a precum coating over the lipstick. 

You nodded, black streams mixing with the raised bumps on your cheeks as you glazed your lips with him. 

“Open that fucking mouth,” he commanded, watching your gaze meet his, barely giving you any time to breathe as he bottomed out to your windpipe. 

The sensation taking you aback as you gagged around him, his hands finding clumps of your hair while he held you still on his pubic bone. He mused at your moans, feeling your tongue graze his shaft, your lips pulse on his base, and the feeling of your hair in his fingers. 

He began to move, stilling your head as he plunged into your mouth with deep heavy strokes. His breathing erratic and his grunts low in his gut as he watched you swallow him whole. 

“That’s my g-good g-girl,” he hissed, the feeling of your mouth closing on him making him throw his head back in utter pleasure. 

You rolled your eyes back, reveling in his tip knocking your uvula, his hands in a death grip on your head while his balls slapped the underside of your chin. His smell was tantalizing, his hair falling over his chiseled face in the prettiest way as he split yours open with everything he had. 

His strokes became erratic, his balls tensing as his stomach muscles flexed in front of you. Your hands coming to grab his tree trunk thighs as you dug into the skin, his feral moans egging your spit to fall out in ribbons on the floor. 

“F-fuck kid!” he groaned, his body stilling as he emptied his ample load down your gullet, the feeling spreading throughout your entire body in a tingly wave. 

He pulled off you, his tip twitching as a string of spit still connected you both. Your breaths coming in hot and heavy as your hooded eyes looked up at him.  

“Was I a good girl, baby?” pushing your tits with your arms to see if you deserved a turn to be released from your hell. 

“The best girl,” he panted, lifting you on your heels as he took in the rest of the pretty outfit you’d picked for him, “and the prettiest one too,” running a hand over your throat as he pulled you to his lips. 

“I fuckin’ love these heels on you,” he cooed, watching you lead him to the bedroom, his half-hard cock bobbing as he waddled behind you, gripping your hand in his. 

“Well, I fuckin’ love dressing up for you,” wiggling your body as you crawled on the bed, the sight making him completely hard again as he smoothed his hands on your ass. 

“You all wet for me, kid?” pushing your thong to the side as he brushed his thick fingers on your folds. 

“Mhmm,” feeling your slick as he lined up with your center, “just perfect for me,” pushing in completely in a collective sigh of relief. 

“Mother of fuck,” he gasped, your hands gripping the sheets as you pushed your ass into him. 

His speed picking up slowly as the headboard began to knock its melodious tune, “G-God I-I missed y-you,” whining into the mattress as you met his thrusts. 

“I-I love t-this pussy,” he groaned, bruising your hips as he knocked your cervix with every stroke he made. 

His balls slapping the top of your mound, pinging your clit in the most perfect way as you gasped for more. 

“Y-you’re gonna be s-so full of me you’ll b-be s-sloshing around the apartment the r-rest of the n-night,” he gritted out, feeling your velvet walls clench him in your impending orgasm. 

“F-fill me up, Adam,” you cried, bringing your hand to rub your clit in a fervor as the electric current boiled over in your body, the much-needed release washing over you in a cascade of elation. 

High pitched moans penetrating the air as he punished your cunt with his strokes, his balls clenching again as he felt your slick come over his dick. He pushed further and further, finally emptying his seed deep within your body, completing the warmth as it spread again in your lower half this time. 

He stilled, putting his arms to drape over your ass, pulling himself out as he slumped on your back, his heaved breaths coming in high and fast. 

His pulse rang in his ears as did yours. His chest pounding as he became thirsty and hungry, his balls hanging empty between his thighs as you dripped his spend from your gaping cunt. 

“What do ya say we order some Thai,” he chuckled, kissing a trail on your lower back as you laughed back under him. 

“I’m totally okay with that babe,” reaching a hand around to pat his head. 

“You want a Gatorade, kid,” lifting up to take a centered last heavy breath, watching your turn around in fucked pleasure. 

“Can’t be dehydrated ya know,” his toothy grin meeting your eyes as his lips began to pout. 

“I would love one babe,” smiling back and wincing on your ass now, “I’ll call the place to order the food,” reaching to grab your phone as he rushed to your side, enveloping your face in another deep kiss. 

“I love you,” he whispered, pushing a piece of stray hair from your face, rubbing his nose on your cheek as he nuzzled you. 

“I love you most,” you cooed back, rubbing yours on his opposite before pecking him on the lips again. 

And with that, he jumped over the pile of pillows to the fridge and gulped an entire gallon of red fluid before you could even order your pad thai and his spicy beef noodles. 

______________

IM GONNA HOW MANY TIMES A DAY I CAN FIT HORSECOCK INTO MY WRITING... SPOILER ALERT THE LIMIT DOESN’T EXIST FOR SARA LMAO 

🖤,

ray-nal-beads

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Together, We’re Just Better Off

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my “new look” bingo square fill for @starkerfestivals January event - I love the look of Tom in a nice suit & just kind of went from there!  Word Count: ~4.7K Warnings: This is strictly NSFW (there be smut ahead, y’all!) Summary: 

For this year's Parker Tech silent auction, Peter decides to get a custom suit made - the result is a randy Tony and porn without much plot.

Read on AO3 here.

Tony was in trouble.

There was no other way to describe the feeling in his chest when Peter walked down the stairs after two hours of secretive getting ready for the annual Parker Tech silent auction.

Standing on the last stair, Peter looked – obscenely sexy. The brand new, custom made, charcoal colored suit hugged every line of his husband’s body in a way that shouldn’t be legal. The cut of the pants made his slim legs look miles long, the snug fit of the jacket tapering off just right at the cusp of narrow hips. Adding the slightest dash of color, Peter paired the grey suit with a dark green button up, the top two buttons undone – the slightest flash of smooth chest the penultimate addition to the entire outfit.

The dark color of the shirt brought out Peter’s eyes, and when he looked up, the most confident facial expression sat on blush painted cheeks. It took Tony a second to remember to breath, their eyes meeting with a spark of electricity that felt tangible in the few feet of space between them. The need to eat Peter alive sat low in Tony’s belly, the muscles in his legs loading up in desperate preparation to pounce – the tantalizing idea of Peter under him in that very second almost enough to beat out the rest of his higher brain function.

Shaking his head, a millisecond before he acted on his animal instinct, Tony brought himself back from the cusp of ruining Peter’s tailored made suit – but only just barely. His fist clenched tight at his side, the delicate throb of his half-hard cock against the seam of his own suit pants just enough stimulus to keep him grounded.

Instead of pouncing, Tony took measured steps towards Peter – the space between them narrowing down to inches. When finally within touching distance, Tony reached out to rest his hands on Peter’s hip, the soft fabric of the delicious suit as lovely as the aesthetic it portrayed. Gripping slightly, Tony tugged until they were pressed flush together, Peter’s chest warm and firm against his own.

“If you had any idea what I wanted to do to you right now, Pete.” Tony whispered, his lips pressing against Peter’s ear, breath brushing against the smooth skin there. “It shouldn’t be possible – you looking this fucking good. How am I supposed to focus tonight? Or get anything done?” He peppered kisses down Peter’s jaw and neck as he spoke, goosebumps following in his wake.

“I’ll have Obie following me around all night, desperately attempting to get my attention – but I won’t be able to focus. Not when I’ll be able to look across the room and see your ass so delightfully encased in pants that are so sinful; so fucking distracting, Peter – even now.” Tony drew back then, his lips finally finding Peter’s for a softly teasing kiss – “who do you think you are?”

The chuckle against his lips made the heat in Tony’s belly burn a little hotter – Peter knew the exact effect he was having, the knowledge of being not only attractive, but dangerously so, giving the younger man a sort of fuel that stoked a different kind of fire. Already the smartest person in the room, Peter armed with anything extraneous at all was frighteningly perilous. His aura spoke of curiosity and excitement, a cocktail of things that always proved interesting for Tony – especially in such a public setting.

Peter drew away after a minute, there kisses settling down to just the barest press of lip on lip. “I know exactly who I am, Tony Parker – your husband, the very one who will be teasing you to within an inch of your life while we play nice. The one who, when we can finally sneak away from our own event, will let you strip me down, piece by piece, until there’s bare canvas for you to do whatever you wish with.”

Kissing his forehead, Peter let his lips rest there, each gust of warm air making Tony’s skin tingle. “That’s who I am.”

Tony let a groan fall from his lips, every one of Peter’s words caressing his skin with liquid fire, only to settle in the depths of his belly where the boiling pit of heat was steadily gaining height – the prospect of combustion a real threat.

He grabbed one of Peter’s hands where they took up residence on Tony’s shoulders, his fingers tight on a pale wrist. Bringing it down between them, Tony brushed Peter’s knuckles against the already insistent bulge there – both men sucking in a breath at first contact. “You’re going to kill me. Death by unresolved want.”

Peter wiggled his hand until he could turn it around, his palm all of the sudden pressing hotly against Tony’s cock. “Just be good, Tony. I’ll let you have what we both want.”

Letting their lips touch ever so slightly, Peter gave Tony one more squeeze before pulling away, the space between them once again huge – every inch feeling like a million miles apart.

Tony felt Peter’s eyes roam over him, the rich chocolate of them almost entirely taken over by blown pupils, making his stare dark and inviting. Every inch was taken in, from the fine Italian leather shoes on his feet to the purposefully done bed-head hairdo at the top of his head. The gaze made him stand a little straighter, Tony’s cheeks reddening with a flush he couldn’t push down.

“You look pretty damn good yourself. Love the all black on you.” Peter seemed to want to take a step back into his orbit but thought better of it – his hands slipped into tight pockets, feet shifting, instead. “Getting through the night might be a challenge for us both.”

And it was – if the leering stares and hidden touches were anything to go by. Having gone into business together as equal partners after their first year of marriage, both Tony and Peter were in high demand; everyone wanted to speak with the brains behind the operation. Tony spearheaded the design elements, while Peter manufactured and created all of the brilliance that came from Tony’s ideas – which usually meant both were detained in their own conversations throughout a good majority of every event.

Yet, for some reason, the space between them seemed even bigger than usual. Tony’s fingers ached to press against Peter’s lower back, his skin burning with need. When he couldn’t see Peter in any direction, Tony’s brain wandered to the perfect rendition of Peter’s silhouette in his thoughts – the visual so very distracting. So distracting in fact, Tony found himself unable to really follow any of the conversations he attempted to be immersed in. In all ways, Peter owned him; his entire body so wrapped up it was impossible to focus.

Any time he could, Tony circled back to Peter, their bodies pressing tightly against each other each time he felt the need to approach. Though the encounters were always brief before one of them got swept away by someone else needing to talk to them about some sort of bull shit, Tony felt able to catch his breath and refocus – as if Peter’s touch was his grounding force, a simple moment of contact just enough to refresh him for the minutes to come.

Despite the dynamic tension between them growing with every second, the event went off pretty swimmingly. Most of the things up for auction were donated by people within the crowd (who would unsurprisingly bid on their own junk, just because they could). The alcohol flowed nicely, each guest spending most of the evening with never-ending champagne in their hands and the slightest bit of rose tint on their cheeks from the constant drinking. Items sold, speeches were made, and money was collected – a through and through success.

When neither could stand it any longer, Tony made a couple of excuses before grabbing Peter and making a hasty exit. Warm fingers slid into the gaps of his own, Peter squeezing the digits in an attempt to make the touch a little closer – anything to make the connection between them more solid.

In leaving early, Tony decided to leave the Audi with the parking attendants, the two of them stumbling home hand-in-hand – the crisp, cool night air dulling the fire building between them down just enough to actually get back to the penthouse without any public indecency charges. It pushed the control of their patience, letting their hands and the occasional brush of their sides be the only point of contact until they got into the bedroom; but when Peter started to strip without a word being said, Tony knew it was worth it.

Shrugging out of his suit jacket, Tony sat at the edge of their bed, his fingers distractedly undoing the buttons of his shirt – his hazel eyes laser focused on Peter’s movements. As each piece of gorgeously tailored clothing hit the floor, Tony’s anticipation and want skyrocketed, his cock hard as nails before Peter’s pants were completely undone – the fly just barely down enough to reveal the answering bulge of want.

Tony managed to get his shirt off before attempting to get off the bed and reach for Peter. His husband shut down the move pretty quickly, however, his brows quirking as he spoke. “Mm, I don’t think so. Just sit there, Tones – watch me.”

Unable to do anything other than what was asked of him, Tony quickly shed his shoes and socks, pants following along a few seconds later. Down to just his boxer-briefs, Tony let himself lean back and watch the rest of the reveal – his plan of attack starting to culminate with each new inch of bare skin on display. His fingers itched to touch; the feeling of what Tony knew to be completely smooth skin something he felt starving for.

Before he could fathom it, Tony found himself with a lapful of Peter Parker, his husband now completely naked – the strong thighs straddling him squeezing as calloused hands moved to grip slim hips. Too distracted by pale skin, he wasn’t quite ready for the real thing so suddenly thrust upon him. Tony’s cock throbbed with want as Peter settled firmly on his legs, his cock nestled so nicely against the crease of Peter’s ass.

Wrapping his arms around Peter’s hips, Tony pressed up and forward, his lips seeking out the warm expanse of flesh. He nestled his nose in the slope of Peter’s clavicle, tongue peeking out to trace the sharp bone. As he worked his mouth along traps and up the length of Peter’s neck, Tony let his hands trail along hard planes of muscle, the tips of his fingers tracing the light dusting of hair coating Peter’s pale skin.

Peter worked his hips teasing over Tony’s cock as he let his husband take his fill – the slide of his boxer-briefs against an over-sensitive cock drawing long moans from Tony’s chest each time he let himself come up for air. The motion was hypnotizing, the tease of Peter’s warm hole like a siren calling his name.

Not willing to wait any longer, Tony grabbed under Peter’s thighs, hefting him up enough to turn and switch their positions – Peter’s legs splayed open wide when he hit the bed, the space there quickly occupied by the length of Tony’s body. Before getting comfortable in the warm press of their bodies against each other, Tony wiggled out of his boxer-briefs until they were finally skin to skin, both parties stark naked and eager for what was to come next.

For a while, the only sounds in the room were panted breaths and the slick suction of lip against lip or lip against skin. Tony trailed his tongue from the small divot between Peter’s collar bones, down along rippling six pack abs until he reached his destination – an excited cock pressing against his chin upon arrival. He let the tip of his tongue fall into the crevice of a deep belly button before finally peeking out to lick across the purpling tip of Peter’s already leaking cock. The bitter saltiness of pre-cum made his mouth water, Tony’s lips opening just enough to suck and tongue up the leakage.

Strong fingers found their way into Tony’s hair, Peter’s hips rising in hopes of getting more of his length inside the wet warmth of a talented mouth. Reaching up, Tony gripped Peter’s hand, his fingers signaling the other man to grab on a little tighter. With a sudden burst of energy, Tony opened wide, taking the entire length of Peter’s cock into his mouth, only stopping when the tip hit the back of his throat. After the initial reflex to gag passed, his throat relaxed enough for Tony to comfortably start bobbing his head.

“Fuck, Tony – you always surprise me with that move,” Peter panted out, his fingers loosening and tightening rhythmically in Tony’s hair with every move and bob of his head. “You suck my cock so well, baby.”

As if he were highlighting his words, Peter let his hips come up off the bed, the move pressing his cock even further down Tony’s throat. Giving no sign of resistance, Tony tried to relax further, his hands that were grasping Peter’s hips tightly slipped down until both ass cheeks fit within the palm of his hands – his fingers gripping until Peter caught the drift and started to thrust.

It started out gradually, Peter moving into his mouth with the smallest of thrusts. Tightening his mouth around the rigid length, Tony brought his eyes up, the honey hazel of his stare meeting chocolate brown of Peter’s. The silent conversation that took place spoke volumes, and within minutes, Peter was recklessly pressing his cock in and out of the depth of Tony’s throat – the gags and moans of their push and pull echoing around the otherwise silent room. Hearing it made the heat in Tony’s belly simmer hotter, his cock hard and sticky against his own stomach.

With every intention to get Peter off before the fun really began, Tony redoubled his efforts – the rawness of his throat making it easy to take thrust after thrust. His own hips pressed down against the mattress, the slightest bit of friction just enough to keep Tony from going completely crazy because of the heart rushing arousal continuously pulsing through him. His body felt like it was on fire – the throb and growth of Peter’s cock in his mouth the biggest catalyst to the coursing desire.

By the time Peter’s fingers were tightening in his hair, Tony’s mouth was red and abused, spit dripping down his chin and neck readily – any sort of residual embarrassment gone; Tony’s only thought revolving around making his husband cum as soon as possible. With every second that past, Peter’s huffs of breath got a little quicker, the pitch reaching a new height the closer to orgasm he got.

“Jesus, fuck – I’m going to come, Tony. I can’t – I can’t…” Peter babbled, his hips stuttering in their thrusts, the fingers in Tony’s hair tight, each strand so close to being yanked out by the root. His final gurgle brought a sound from Tony’s chest, the noise spit slick and muddled. With a final thrust, Peter fell apart, his loud shout like the sweetest music.

Letting him settle, Tony kept his mouth around Peter until his husband was pulling away, his spent cock pulsing from the oversensitivity. He shifted away then, Tony sitting up slightly to pull in several deep breaths, his jaw tight and tired from being open and extended for so long. The lactic acid already starting to accumulate there was worth it, Peter’s fucked-out look sending a whole new wave to Tony’s center.

“You should turn over,” Tony mumbled as his hand tapped at Peter’s hip – the man already moving to oblige before all the words were out of his mouth. Peter looked so damn good that way – his weight equally distributed between forearms and knees, pert ass spread and on display. With no hesitation at all, Tony pressed his nose to Peter’s crease, his lungs drawing in a deep breath – the scent and sensation forcing his eyes closed. Here soon, Tony would be buried deep within that delicate heat. His cock would be encased so perfectly, like every inch of Peter was made for him, not just his beautiful brain and intricate personality.

He caught Peter looking back over his shoulder, glazed eyes taking in every one of Tony’s movements. A soft smile graced his lips, the laziness of post-orgasm making him that much more beautiful.

“Hurry, Tones – I can’t wait to feel you inside of me.” Thrusting his hips back, Peter spread his legs a little wider, the soft pink of his hole enticing; the view upping the ante.

Impatient to once again exist within Peter’s tight heat, Tony dragged the bedside table drawer open, his fingers hastily wrapping around the half-used bottle of lube. He settled back between Peter’s legs, the bottle resting against his knee while he used both hands to spread pert cheeks. His tongue darted out, the tip brushing against the furled muscle.

Peter shouted out a moan, the slick heat of Tony’s tongue causing him to press his hips back, the move a desperate attempt to get more of him; tongue, teeth, fingers – whatever Tony wanted to give.

The earlier thought of eating Peter alive came back tenfold, each pass of his tongue bringing the musky taste of his husband’s most private place to the forefront of his attention. It felt good to consume Peter’s very essence. There were so many ways Tony’s couldn’t possess every inch of him that times like this were fucking intoxicating; every inch of Peter’s body called out to him, Tony’s touches an irresistible stimulus that neither wanted to ever give up. If he couldn’t have him all the time, Tony would cherish the hell out of the times he could.

Fumbling blindly for the bottle of lube, Tony lapped at Peter’s hole distractedly, his hands working hard to get the tube open and the slick on his fingers. The lube was cold on his molten skin – runny liquid warming up quickly up contact. It felt absurd to give up his mouth’s position, the tightness of Peter’s hole around his eager tongue delicious but never enough. Yet, the desperate urge to finally be buried inside spurred Tony into action – he shifted slightly then, the tip of his index finger joining Tony’s tongue in deep exploration.

Slowly, like he was trying to remember every ripple and crevice, Tony ran his finger around Peter’s rim, his tongue following in swift pursuit. He did that a couple of times, feeling with a certain kind of awe, as Peter loosen under his ministrations. Little by little, the tip of his finger slipped inside, Tony only stopping when the webbing of his finger hindered his movement.

Intimacy with Peter, despite how many times they came together in that very way, always felt like a brand-new experience. In his rapture, Peter would make a new noise, or tighten in a spot that Tony couldn’t remember being affected by. It shouldn’t have surprised him then, when Peter pressed back into the sensation, the greedy muscle of his ass pulling Tony in further – anatomical limitation be damned. Groaning, Tony finally shifted his face away, his lungs burning from the lack of oxygen consumption – when he was focused on the delicacy that was Peter’s ass, oxygen was the furthest from his mind.

The shift in position gave Tony a little more leverage. Within a few thrusts, Tony found Peter’s prostate, the tip of his finger running teasingly over the spot before withdrawing in hopes of repeating the process all over again. He moved into the teasing rhythm, the flutter of Peter’s hole a few minutes later the only thing reminding him to add another.

Little by little, Tony felt Peter relax around him – his cock was thick and full again, the length hard and dragging against the sheet below them. Each thrust forward or spread of his fingers to the side drew a loud huff from one of them, both men making enough noise to make it hard to decipher where one sound ended and the other began.

Three fingers deep and both reaching incoherency, Peter seemed to be just cognizant enough to push them towards the next step – his hand reached back, gripping on to Tony’s forearm. “That’s enough – I need you in me. I can’t wait, anymore.”

Letting a groan fall from his throat, Tony nodded – the capacity to form words leaving him in an instant. He forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths, his entire body was on fire and every minute shift felt like a sharp tilt to the universe – Tony already so far off his own axis.

Tony sat up on his heels after pulling his fingers from Peter’s heat, his hands shaking slightly as he opened the lube again. He poured the cool slick directly on his cock – the sudden change in stimulus calming him down, bringing him back to Earth’s surface where he could actually focus on finally sliding home.

His hand wrapped around himself, Tony gripping his cock as lightly as he could while spreading the lube around, each touch like a cattle prod to the heat so close to overwhelming him.

“How do you want me?” Tony thought to ask, his hand falling by his side to stop himself from stroking the throbbing length.

Without answering, Peter turned until he was sitting, his hands wrapping around Tony’s chest. In a quick move, Tony was on his back, the wetness of pre-cum and lube collected on the sheets rubbing against his bare skin. The feeling of it made his skin pebble, the rush of arousal getting to be too much.

Peter grinned down at him – his muscled legs bracketed Tony’s hips, a steady hand reaching behind himself to grip Tony tightly. Strong fingers wrapped around his cock, the electric pulse of Peter touching him magnifying the effect of sweet contact to his neglected sex. Another low moan sounded from his chest, the sight of Peter over him and the touch of his husband’s skin driving him up the fucking wall.

“Pete, please – “ Tony started to moan just seconds before Peter gripped him tightly.

Shifting, Peter moved until Tony was lined up perfectly, the loosened heat of Peter’s rim teasing him with little twitches and enticing heat. One small move and Tony would be buried in delicious tightness, Peter’s warm walls welcoming him home like a solider home from battle.

He couldn’t recall who finally made the shift, the initial connection too good to really give two shits about rational thought – all Tony could think about in that moment was the swift slide of his cock into Peter’s depth; the heat and affectionate feeling all consuming. He shouted Peter’s name as they fit together – each inch inside like another step to the most gratuitous pleasure. Gripping Peter’s hips tightly, Tony slammed his eyes shut – his stomach clenching.

“Fuck – don’t move. I-I – I need a minute.” Tony forced a harsh breath from his lungs, the grip of his fingers tightening with every ounce of fight needed to keep from falling over the edge.

Tony tried to keep his breathing level, the heat in his belly cooling down as his heart slowed – though he wasn’t going to last long, he felt in control enough to actually enjoy whatever happened next.

The soft brush of fingers along the length of his face had Tony finally looking up, hazel meeting brown in a soft glance. “You’re beautiful like this. Fighting for control – steps away from your most vulnerable.” Peter started to roll his hips as he spoke, the soft caresses to Tony’s cheek a gorgeous juxtaposition to the delectable grind. “I can’t wait to watch you come undone, Tony. Hear you shout my name and fall apart because of me.”

Tony couldn’t help the slur of fucks dropping from his mouth, Peter in complete control of his pleasure. Wanting to thrust up didn’t matter, not when Peter moved his hips the way he was – each roll and lift calculated – the timing and pressure instigated to tease every ounce of pleasure from Tony that he could.

One particular slam down must’ve felt good – Peter moaned loudly, then doubled his efforts. The slap of skin on skin overtook the entire room; each thrust heard, felt, seen, and remembered – the entire sensory experience latching on to the little shards of control Tony was death-gripping, the small chips turning quickly into large cracks ready to break apart at any minute.

Unable to stop himself any longer, Tony gripped Peter’s hips tighter, his own lifting in time with Peter’s rolling thrusts. Each press up caught Peter’s prostate on the upstroke, Tony completely overwhelmed by the tight squeeze around him as he pulled out, only to wind-up and press back inside impatiently. It was too much – both Peter and Tony babbling mindlessly, the pace now random, completely out of stride to the rhythmic fucking taking place just moments before.

“Cum – please, Pete. I’m so close and want to feel you lose it around me.” Tony was practically begging, his skin gleaming with sweat, the muscles just under the surface burning, exertion and overstimulation a tantalizing pleasure-pain that felt SO good.

The jump over the edge never ceased to be anything short of amazing. Tony felt Peter clamp down around him, his cock pulsing between them untouched – shot after shot of warm, pearly cum landing on Tony’s chest, each pulse like a spot of lightning caressing his skin. The squeeze was too much, all of the stimulus coming together in a glorious culmination of orgasm, and Peter, and heat – a glorious cocktail of little deaths.

When Tony finally came back to, Peter was slumped over on his chest, the evidence of his husband’s orgasm now smeared over Peter’s abs and the hairy expanse of Tony’s belly. The feeling of being marked made the satisfied thrum of happiness in the back of his mind pulse a little harder – his heart beating in time with the contentment coursing through him.

Soft lips pressed against his after a while, Peter’s fingers gripping his cheeks lightly.

“That was amazing.” Peter’s voice was gruff, his throat scratchy from moaning and shouting out his pleasure.

Tony turned his head, leaning his forehead against Peter’s cheek. His own fingers made soft paths up and then back down his husband’s back, the sweaty skin cooling quickly in the aftermath. Soon, they’d need to shift and clean up – the many memories of waking up glued together enough of a reminder that ignoring their mess wasn’t really an option. Until then, he’d soak up the closeness, Peter’s post-sex clinginess one of Tony’s favorite parts of the process.

“You’re amazing,” Tony finally mumbled, the capacity to form sentences and understandable words finally coming back to him. “And that suit, Pete – I’ll have that first look of you in it stuck in my mind for the rest of my days.”

Peter chuckled against his neck, the two of them now separated, Tony lying flat on the bed with his warm bundle of a husband tucked tightly against his side. The bask of afterglow enveloped them both – their jumble of limbs a beautiful thing.

“It had the desired effect, then,” Peter said, his lips moving against their spot on Tony’s neck. “I’m thinking about adopting the look – something new, you know?”

Turning his head, Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s hair, a soft smile on his face. “I guess I better get used to getting nothing done, then.” He thought about all the distraction coming his way – all the clothes ripping sex they would have. Grin growing, Tony settled further into the mattress, sleepy and content with the newest change of events.  

[ficsnroses]

Hate Sex - John Wick x Reader

Summary : John and you ended long ago. But the sex didn’t. The hurting, painful, hate sex didn’t. 

Word Count : 1.8K

Warning : smut. consensual sex. swearing.

[prompt fic #23, requested by anon]

John Wick. The name that brought trembling fright within the tremored bones of many.

Yet to you, that name meant only one beseeching ache of blame, something you so desperately wanted to run away from, yet found yourself back exactly where you’d started, each time.

Tonight, the crème walls of the Continental hid your murky secrets, once again. These walls, they promised sanctuary; ease. A safe haven for even the guiltiest of sinners. Yet for you, they were a façade. A trap that only brought you back to him, pathetic, yearned for what you knew so desperately shouldn’t be.

“Fuck,” You sob through clenched teeth, piercing burns of hot streaming tears flowing down your face to his animalistic pace. John heard whispers of you being in tonight, the same room you’d always be on a stay. He knew the number by heart, found himself peering to it each and every time his body craved for you.

From behind, relentlessly to his snapping hips, John fucks into you hard, rigid, merciless through a string of guttural groans and stumbling profanities. Needy and pitifully pathetic almost, your aching core burns with each pound, rough pads of his callous fingers digging into the skin of your bare hips. You stand there for him, hands firmly fixed to the desk with your head hung low, a sizzling beat throbbing in your cunt with his massive cock imploring your walls. You can’t see John, yet you know how he must be. Satisfied- rosy chest flustered as incoherent grunts of pleasure bolt his lips. He’s pounding in so hard, you know you’ll feel him for days.

You would feel John for days; be reminded of him for days despite the thought of him being the last you’d ever want on your mind.

Guilt…it has a way. It has its own way of penetrating through your skin.

John and you held history. Deep, dark, dense history. What once was amiable tolerance, turned into something more. Something more beautiful, something that held comfort; security. Yet since, since the dark shades cast over, the sky above your relationship turned gray. Transpired into full blown, impending hatred.

You hate John. You hate him.

But you can’t seem to escape this; each time he shows up wanting more, you can’t seem to turn him away, tell him to fuck off, chase his needs elsewhere.

His thickness splits you inch by inch, delicate pussy barely able to accommodate him whole while he slams in relentlessly, ceaselessly, persistently. Each vein, each ridge, each curve of his cock skidding your g-spot drives your body further into oblivion- guilty, shameful oblivion. His teeth barely scrape over your skin when he lowers his mouth, firm hands palming your breasts in a hard clench and you whimper at the pain. The pain that fades away, mixed with the nirvanic pleasure he’s looming into your cunt. “Harder,” You whimper, sobs mixed with whiny moans falling your lips, eyes gritted shut to his rhythm.

“Flip.” John demands, halting his thrust before he takes hold of his meaty cock from the base, stroking himself as his spare hand plants to your hip, guiding your turn over on the desk. His eyes hold a certain darkness, mouth slightly a gape with his chest rising and falling in heavy heaves. Body positioned on the desk with your legs spread wide open for his taking, John smirks tangibly before guiding his girth into you again, full and thriving balls ghastly hitting your searing core again, and again, and again.

The sounds are sinful, the sounds of your soaked pussy, glistened with burning arousal, sloppy and wet for his taking each time. Hands firmly planted to your hips for leverage, you feel yourself claw fingernails into his biceps, desperately grazing, digging, burrowing in,

anything to make him feel some semblance of pain. Any form of burn. Shameful, penetrating burn; feel the burn you felt each time he did this, each time he used you for his primal desires.

Each time you allowed him; each time you couldn’t say no.

Low and throaty, he hisses to the sensation, eyes momentarily clenching shut to the feel of you hurting him nearly. His thrusts only quicken, cock throbbing and twitching inside you, slipping from your cunt messily each time before plummeting back in. He grunts and curses above you as you plead, sobs of frustration gathering your orbs with the sweltering burn, ear-splitting and gaspy moans yelped out your lips.

Back arching with jolting shocks scorching your body, you whimper underneath him, the feel of his stocky hand moving to firmly palm your pussy mixing pleasure with pain, yet again. John’s eyes blacken, dim obscurity coated when his eyes glaze over your body; voluptuous, wanton and bare, completely exposed for him with your swollen breasts bouncing ruthlessly as he rams in, cock burying deep, deep inside you with each thrust. His digit’s massage and spread your creamy juices, before slowly trailing up to pinch your hardened nipples, palms tightening around your breast in an agonising grasp once again.  

“Does anyone else make you feel like I do?” He grunts, jaw tightened with his pace never faltering. Your cunt pulses and throbs, fleeting oppressed moans as your hand tries to yank his off your chest; remove his fingers from grasping your bare modesty. Determined, you refuse to give into his dirty, sex hazed words.

Refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s fucking you so well, so deliciously rough. So pornographically vulgar; so guiltily good.

“Tell me.” He demands, face lowering to yours; minty breath hot against your lips as he quietly growls. “Does anyone else fuck you this good?” Teeth barely grazing your jaw, he whispers a growl once again, liberatingly thick length practically obliterating your cunt now. “Does your tight, wet, needy pussy clench around anyone else like this?”

Persistently, he nips at the soft skin of your neck, leaving marks, as if marking you permanently as his. “Tell me, Y/N.” He grits, almost demandingly, furiously with his frenzied eyes primal, wild as he asserts his dominance.

No matter how much you hated it, how much you wanted to let yourself free, you feared you’d never muster the courage. Part of you would always be John’s. No matter how much you loathed, no matter much you lied to yourself that you could be better. No matter how much you despised his chocolate gaze, his repeated charisma, the way he’d show up uninvited, knowing you’d give into him.

“No.” You sob through gritted teeth, returning to his question of earlier, foggy thoughts desperately trying to focus on anything but the way his throbbing cock works your pussy, the way he perfectly fucks you into pure and utter bliss. John was the best you’d had, and ever would. Perhaps its why he persistently got you, persistently had you at his mercy, desperately accommodating him within your tender, quivering haven.

Throaty and gruff, he lets out primitive moans, breathy raggedy and hot as he shudders, sending shivers of want down your spin when you know he’s close. Within a few particularly harsh thrusts, you yelp in pleasure as your orgasm washes over you, searing your nerves with blissful tingles as he fucks into you still chasing his own. Within seconds, John’s cock hits your end with a halt, satisfied grumble of his chest rumbling against your breasts as he cums, spurts of hot and heavy seed drenching your tight walls; sex satisfied head falling refuged into the shelter of your breasts.

John always came inside. That’s where John liked it. Littered, stained inside where you’d feel him most. He breathes breathy exhales, chest hot and puffing from the severe exertion. You feel it wash over you now more than ever; the impending guilt. The shame that you’d done this, with him again.

Cock still buried inside, you shove John off your chest, forcing his member to fall out of you flaccid and warmed from your enthralling heat. He observes you, focused with your features stoic, almost cold as you pull on your panties swift, shielding your bare figure from him in hasty defence; shirt quickly draped back onto your body. You can almost feel his creamy load dripping out of you slowly, leisurely, staining your undergarments with his hot cum once again.

Staining something of yours, once again.

“Fuck off.” You mutter, avoiding eye contact as you throw his discarded clothes at him. “Fuck out of here and don’t come back tonight.” You grit, boiling tears threatening to spill any second if he doesn’t leave.

With his clothes mindlessly tugged onto his physique, John watches you intently, noticing the way you avoid his gaze. You hate him, and he knows. He’s tainted you, he knows. When you slightly push him to the door, he notes the way your hands fold over your chest, waiting for him to be on his way. Features worn, exhaustion litters your dewy features, tired of the games, desperate need for a good night’s rest heavy on your fatigued mind. He keeps his hands to himself, suit jacket draped over his shoulder with a turn to the brassy door knob.

Halting still, his eyes can’t seem to leave your distressed gaze intent to the carpet below, mind wondering how it could be if you two hadn’t been caught up in this hateful chase. If you’d given your love a chance back then.

Hadn’t run when things got tough.

“Go.” Your soft lips quietly force, arms tightening around yourself when he doesn’t move, as if in a shield from his absorbed gape. Yet, when you cautiously look up, there’s something in those dark, coffee orbs you recognize. Something you’ve seen before; something you remember from far too long ago. Decades have passed it seems, yet you don’t let it fool you. That gentle glint that seems to be yet a fallacy, a deception perhaps that claws into you; forces you to ache for him the way you did long ago.

But with John, there’s too much history. There’s too much dark, grim, hurt filled history, that still yet, with all this time passed, conjures reminiscences. Remembrances of the misery you both felt years, and years long ago.

Smoky and firm, his words surge through your cognizance piece by piece, protruding the shields you’ve delicately constructed around yourself; locked and caged away from his gnawing presence. “Get some rest.” John suggests, almost a command through his stoic gawk. His earthy orbs gloss over your features, soft and vulnerable almost, yet you hold a confident assertion, challenged to his dominant manifestation.

“Please leave. I don’t want to ask you again.”

And with a firm yet apprehensive nod, John turns his back your way, steady hand placed to the knob before he glides it open and follows suit, lumbered out the door with a brief and final glance your way. With the clud of the oak door shut, John sighs, turned on the balls of his feet on his journey to his lonely, solitude room.

Satisfied, he thinks. Nevertheless, he knows.

He hasn’t been satisfied for a long, long time.

He’s been aching, for a long, long time.

Just as long as you.

~We could have been more. He thinks. Could have been more if you faced the fire, rather than running.

        You and him, could have been

        so much more.

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