#hi i’m sobbing 💖

[decsrice]

anyways have a pic of pablo and nobes with a young fan 💖

[lovereadandwrite]

“did you HEAR MEEE ??! PLAY THE FKIN BEAT-” -Nobara Kugisaki/Chappell Roan🙂‍↕️💅🏻🔨

[stillcominback]

rick grimes is never beating the lover boy allegations 😌💖

[libertys-lovers]

Ah yes, a completely normal reaction to your husband being cute.

[rosicheeks]

😔

[dalkyeom]

Happy Shua daaaay!!

I love that funky gentleman so much. I hope he celebrates with his heart full of only love and happiness 💗✨ to the precious winter prince, Shua — happiest of birthdays 🎂

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Desperation✨

I’M NOT DONE YET >:)

Maybe I should go on vacation more often, gets the creative juices flowing, I hope y’all like a little bit of sub!Lucifer 😏

(No set up to this one either, this is just gonna be smut right out of the gate lmaooooo)

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: A more than willing Lucifer is ready to submit to your every whim…

Warnings: 18+, smut, sub!lucifer, light dom!reader, teasing, pet names, orgasm denial, edging, hand job, oral (m & f receiving), p in v

You weren’t sure how you ended up in this situation. Well…that’s not entirely true. But you never thought that you would ever be in the situation you found yourself in. Not that you were upset at all by it. Lucifer, the almighty ruler of Hell itself, was bound and blindfolded in your bed wearing nothing more than his briefs. His hands were restrained to the bed post with tightly knotted rope while a silk ribbon obstructed his vision, leaving him absolutely helpless. Of course, you both knew he could more than easily break free from his bondage, but he wasn’t going to. He trusted you with his entire being, his devotion to you was undying. He was now yours to tease, to use, and to break. The thought excited both of you. You had already stripped naked, wasting no time as you closed in on your prey.

“Are you ready, Luci?” you asked, inching yourself closer to the foot of the bed.

“Yes, darling,” he answered sweetly, “do with me what you please.”

“Good boy,” you hummed. You heard a light moan escape his lips from just your words. He loved nothing more than receiving praise from you. You began by resting your hands on his ankles, ever so slowly moving them up to his calves, and stopping to massage the inside of his thighs. It was already apparent that he was having a difficult time sitting still, he was very sensitive after all. Your touch was intoxicating, he could never be satisfied. And the blindfold certainly amplified the experience. You finally moved your hands up his briefs and onto his hips, where he finally bucked up from your touch.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you chastised, “don’t move, baby. Be good for me.”

“Y-yes, love,” he murmured.

“Already so needy, aren’t we?,” you teased, noticing the very obvious wet spot on his shorts. “We’ve barely started.” You palmed his erection, eliciting a yelp from Lucifer. You began to slowly stroke him through his clothing, you felt his cock twitch at your gentle touch.

“Pl-Please, I-mmhn, please m-more,” he babbled. The sounds of his begging were pure ecstasy. What a feeling to have power over the most powerful being in the realm. You chuckled, reaching for the hem of his briefs, finally releasing his hardened cock. His tip leaked precum onto his stomach, Lucifer whimpered softly.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” you coerced, “tell me what you want.”

You heard an audible gulp from Lucifer. Even with the blindfold, you could tell that his cheeks had flushed a bright red. “T-Touch me, pl-please…need to f-feel you,” he choked out.

You smiled as you reached out to grab the base of his cock, forcing another moan out of Lucifer. You started to stroke his shaft up and down at an agonizingly slow pace, precum leaking onto your hand. It felt like he could burst at any second, but you planned on making this last as long as possible. You could already feel yourself getting wet from the sight of him writhing under your touch. Lucifer’s breathing became heavy as though he couldn’t get enough oxygen in his lungs. Unfortunately, he bucked up his hips to your touch again. You let go of him completely, Lucifer nearly sobbed at the loss of contact.

“What did I say, Luci?,” you scolded.

“Imsorryimsorry!!,” Lucifer cried, “Please! Please, I’ll be good. Please don’t stop…”

“You need to learn some patience, baby,” you retorted, kneeling down and taking a long lick from the base of his shaft to the head. Lucifer’s moans had turned into breathy gasps for air. Without warning, you plunged your mouth down on his cock.

“FFFUUUUCCCKKKK!,” Lucifer yelled as you continued to bob your head up and down on his length. He was well endowed, so you were careful not to take too much of him all at once. Your hot mouth engulfed half of him while your hand stroked the rest, perfectly in sync. You circled your tongue around his tip, loving the taste of his precum. The only sounds from Lucifer were screams of pleasure as you overstimulated him with your mouth.

“Talk to me, sweetie,” you said sternly, “how does this make you feel?”

“S-so good, love,” he panted, “ffffuuucckk, I’m so c-close, soooo close…”

“Mmm, what a good boy you are, Luci,” you smiled. You moved your hand and mouth away from his cock in an instant, leaving it to lay on his stomach once again. Lucifer’s breath hitched as he whined inconsolably, completely devastated by the loss of any friction. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

You crawled up onto the bed and hovered over Lucifer. You could see the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his breath was warm on your face. You leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He tried to deepen your kiss but you pulled away just out of reach.

“Don’t be greedy now, darling,” you murmured into his ear, sending shivers throughout his whole body. You kissed the edge of his mouth, then his cheek, then moved down and stopped at his throat. As you started to nip and suck at his sensitive skin, you could feel his rapid pulse while you marked him. You looked up to admire your work, a beautiful purple bruise that he can show off to the rest of Hell. “I want you to show me how desperate you are for me. Can you do that, love?,” you cooed.

“Y-yes,” Lucifer whimpered, “yes, anything!”

You hummed in approval. You continued to crawl on top of him until your pussy was place right above his face. Despite being blindfolded, Lucifer knew exactly what was happening. It took every fiber of his being to keep himself restrained because he would devour you in an instant. He whimpered beneath you waiting for your command.

“Eat up, pretty boy,” you chuckled, lowering yourself closer to his more than willing mouth. You felt his tongue hit your slick folds immediately, causing you to gasp. He easily found your clit and focused all of his attention on it. You tried your best not to move too much and risk removing his blindfold, but it was easier said than done. You couldn’t help but grind against him as he lapped up your dripping cunt. You held on to the headboard in front of you, trying and failing to keep your composure. You felt the knot inside your stomach tighten more and more with each flick of his tongue. You had to pull away now before he could finish you off. In one swift motion, you pulled yourself off of Lucifer’s face and moved to sit on his chest, letting yourself catch your breath.

“NO!,” Lucifer cried, “you’re so cruel…”

“Now, now, is that anyway to speak to me?”, you teased. Before he could respond, you slid yourself down further and began to grind your cunt on his throbbing erection. Lucifer’s strangled moans filled the empty room, you could listen to him like that forever.

“Tell me what you want, Lucifer,” you barked, refusing to slow your hips as you rocked back and forth on his cock.

“F-Fuck…fuck me…p-please,” he moaned. You moved your hips faster, causing Lucifer to scream. Tears started to leak through the blindfold and fall down his face.

“I know you can do better than that, pretty boy,” you laughed coldly. “I’ll ask again, what do you want?”

“FUCK ME, P-PLEASE FUCK ME, RIDE MY COCK, PLEASE LOVE, I-I NEED TO BE IN YOU NOW, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEFUCKMENOW!,” Lucifer cried out in agony.

“That’s what I hoped you’d say, my sweet boy” you praised. His words went straight to your aching cunt, you couldn’t wait any longer. You lined up his cock with your entrance and sank down on him, sheathing him inside of you completely. You both moaned in tandem at the sensation. Before long, you started bouncing on his cock at a steady pace at first. But only moments passed before your hips started to shift rapidly, chasing the orgasm you denied Lucifer earlier.

“Wanna-wanna see you,” Lucifer pleaded weakly, “please, p-please let me see you, love…” He sounded so broken and sweet, you couldn’t say no to him. He did so well for you, after all. You took pity on him and removed the blindfold from his face. You looked into his eyes, they were puffy from the tears he’d shed earlier. But they seemed to glow brighter once he saw you, completely drunk on his cock. “So beautiful…”, he whispered.

“Luci…,” you moaned, “feels so good, shhhiiiitt…”

“Love, s-so close, I-I can’t…,” Lucifer choked out, screwing his eyes shut. He couldn’t breathe properly anymore, he just wanted to feel you come undone.

“Look at me,” you commanded, “look at m-me when you cum. Be…Be a good boy and cum for me!” Lucifer opened his eyes, his face had turned beet red from your praise.

“I-I’m gonna…fuckfuckFUCKIMCUMMING,” he screamed, thrusting up into you only a few more times before his orgasm hit him hard, spilling his cum into your waiting pussy. Just a second later the tight knot in your stomach unraveled and you felt the waves of pleasure throughout your body, your newly painted white walls clenching around Lucifer’s cock.

Your body gave out and you collapsed on top of him, gasping for air. Lucifer snapped his fingers and the rope that had restrained him was gone. He helped you off him and laid you next to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He kissed the top of your head and pushed the hair away from your face.

“That…that was so good, my angel,” Lucifer smiled. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You laughed lightly, looking up from his chest. “Yes, I enjoyed that a lot, Lucifer, thank you. I…I wasn’t too harsh, was I? I might have teased you too much, I-” You were cut off by Lucifer’s lips, now completely forgetting what you were going to say.

“You were perfect, darling,” he reassured you. “I loved it! And I love you. We’ll certainly be doing that again.” You smiled and nuzzled into his chest.

“I put you through a lot tonight,” you said, “let me run you a bath. And then we can cuddle afterwards. Sound good?”

“Only if you join me, my dear,” Lucifer bargained. You could only smile and nod, how could you say no?

~~~~

Happy Valentine’s Day ya filthy animals!! 💖💖💖

[eupheme]

Um I don't know if anyone's requested this yet but uh.... The Ghoul x Reader cockwarming? 😳 Maybe she's being punished and has to sit in his lap... And we all know how patient Cooper can be.

oooh omg yes!! 👀💖 I couldn’t stop thinking about this!!

— he’s a demon, he’s a devil

cooper howard | the ghoul x f!reader

rated e | 900 words

tags: power dynamics, cock warming, begging, mirrors, punishment, references to rough piv & overstim

“Stop your squirmin’.”

Cooper’s voice is harsh - a hot fan of breath in your ear, as his fingers tighten against your hips, “Supposed to be your punishment, for runnin' off like that.”

Too curious, too foolhardy. You hadn’t meant to leave his sight, but the pull of the empty house and the possibility of food inside had been too great.

He had been furious with you - bared teeth and snarling when you’d nearly upset a nest of radscorpions.

“Teach you a little somethin’ about patience.”

Teeth nip at your neck, then - a reminder to pay attention to what he’s telling you. Knowing that your mind is currently more occupied with much more pressing matters.

Like how he has your thighs spread wide, hooked over is. Unmoving for some unknown amount of time now - you’re not sure if it’s been minutes, or if time has been creeping closer to an hour.

It’s almost as if time has no meaning for him. As if it stopped ticking a long time ago.

Content to keep you here, just like this.

But all you can think about is the thick stretch of him inside you. Stuffing you to the brim while three fingers tuck against possessively against your cunt.

Two split to frame, the middle pressed right up against the tight, slick bud of your clit. Just enough pressure to keep you leaking around him, wound up.

Pinching, whenever you move. A silent warning.

You wonder if he can feel your pulse. The rapid racing of your heart, how it flutters behind your ribs. How much you need him.

The rough texture of his skin nudges against your walls each time you squirm - an effort to feel him move, just a little. Exactly what he was scolding you about now.

It’s not your fault. You’re not used to this.

Too used to him taking. Cruel thrusts that seem to carve you out from the inside, only so he can fill you himself.

Bruises that match the grip of his fingers, denting your skin. The too much of him giving you one, and then another, and the one more - just to hear the way you beg, only to turn around and sob with overstimulation.

This withholding - it is more torture than you can say.

Your toes curl inside your boots. Fingers pinching against your bare thighs, nails biting into your palms until they leave crescent-moon marks.

Trying to ignore the brush of his broad chest against your back as he breathes. The rough sound of it in your ear, making you shiver - resting the urge to clench down around him, because he will feel it and he will know.

Even trying to distract yourself brings no relief.

The room is plain - yellowed peeling wallpaper, a sun-bleached floor, broken furniture. The patterns all ones your eyes have already grown tired of tracing over.

Always going back to tipped-over vanity against the wall, the mirror spider-web cracked in its frame. It’s impossible not to look into it, at your angle.

To be drawn to it.

To the spread of his thighs reflected within, the lean stretch of his legs in the oversized chair. Fractures of where he splits you open. The broad cup of his weathered hand. The thick base of him, his sack beneath hanging full and shining with your slick, where it’s dripped down from your pussy.

Seven years bad luck, and right now it feels like you’re the one that broke it.

His fingers twitch and you can’t bite the soft moan back, as it slips from your throat. The slightest buck of your hips before the hand at your waist tightens. Pinning you firmly against him with a growled-out warning.

“Don’t make me start over.”

The thought of that has your heart plummeting, your words coming in a rush.

“No, I’ll be good. I’m sorry-” You beg, voice pitching up with your whine.

He clicks his tongue, and you swear you can almost feel him throb inside you.

“Are you, now? ‘m not so sure.” He rasps, “Can feel just how much your cunt wants to squeeze me. She’s aching’ for it’, ain’t she?”

A low drawl, as his fingers press slightly against you again in a cruel tease. Trying to coax you into moving again, though this time you try hard to stay still.

But you still can’t help the desperation that tinges your words, the syllable drawn-out.

“Please-”

The hum he makes is paired with a long sigh of mock-disappointment. As if this is torture, in any way, for him. As if he’s not getting off to it.

Just how needy you are for him. Testing the limits of your obedience.

“Maybe when I see some tears leakin’, sweetheart.” Cooper husks, his drawl making each word come out syrupy-slow. Sealing your fate.

“Then I’ll know you’ve learned somethin’.”

The ragged sound you make is pathetic.

Eyes flitting to the mirror again, and they meet his this time - a kaleidoscope of hazel in the cracked pieces of glass.

Where he’s been keeping an eye on you this whole time. Each greedy glance at where you’re joined, every shift of your hips.

Cooper hums, a rough sound of amusement, when he sees your expression. A silent answer with the tilt of his head, a sharp peek of teeth.

It tells you that you can whine all you want.

He’s got all fuckin’ day.

thank you so much for sending this in!! so perfect for him! 💖

[harrywavycurly]

I’m dying to see Harry trying to help with wedding planning because god that just seems like it would be so overwhelming 😫

Hiii babes!! I hope you enjoy this! I agree it seems like it would be so overwhelming and he would do his best to help anyway he can!💖

-find all things for the Lonely series here✨

A/N: You’re worried that you won’t have centerpieces for your wedding but Harry is there to help fix it all, enjoy✨

You try your hardest to keep your facial expression polite so you don’t let your eyebrows rise too much or your eyes get too big and you make sure your smile doesn’t falter not even for a second as Malory, the lovely woman showing you some examples of centerpieces for the tables at your reception, places a giant floral arrangement that’s full of red roses that’s in a jeweled vase on the table in front of you. You want to give up, this is the fifth arrangement she’s shown you and you don’t know where she’s getting the inspiration from because you had told her what the theme or vibe of your wedding was a few weeks ago when you called to set this appointment up and she had assured you she understood but so far nothing was giving you that impression at all.

“Is your fiancé joining us?” Malory asks with a smile as she stands next to the table holding the hideous flower arrangement.

“Yes he-”

“Sorry I’m late sweetheart Gem needed my approval on her dress and it took ages longer than intended.” As if on queue Harry walks through the door of the little shop and you instantly feel like you could cry the moment his eyes lock with yours and his soothing voice fills your ears.

It’s moments like these that you’re thankful that Harry has known you for as long as he has because he knows what’s going on the moment he sees you and takes in your glassy eyes and the way you’re biting your bottom lip, so he briefly looks away from you so he can give Malory a warm smile as he walks over to her. “Hi I’m Harry the fiancé of this lovely woman over here and I’m just wondering if I could get a few moments with her? Haven’t seen her all day and I just-”

“Oh of course! Yes I’m Malory and I’ll just go get the next few arrangements ready.” She gives him a knowing look and a playful wink as she pats Harry on the arm before she turns and heads off towards the back leaving you and Harry alone in the front of the shop. The moment she is out of sight Harry is turning around and taking the few steps over to you so he’s standing in front of you wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest while his lips press a kiss to the top of your head.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks as he gives you a nice squeeze as you let out a deep sigh and close your eyes and let yourself get engulfed in the comfort that is just being with Harry, he’s always been able to wrap you up in his arms and make you forget about the world around you and you need that in this moment more than anything.

“They’re all ugly.” You mumble with your eyes still closed as your arms snake around his middle pulling him closer to you. Harry begins to run his hands up and down your back as he places a kiss to the side of your head. “We get married in nine months and we aren’t going to have any centerpieces.” You explain as you try to fight back to urge to just let out a frustrated sob because you didn’t think picking out a centerpiece would be difficult but it’s proving to be just that.

Now Harry isn’t going to lie and say he’s been the best at helping plan this wedding, he has left a lot of the details to you but does give his honest opinions when you ask for them but lately he’s been able to tell that the few wedding related tasks left have been a bit more daunting and he’s adamant on not letting you have a breakdown over something like a seating chart or flower arrangements. So when you asked him to come help pick centerpieces he didn’t hesitate to say yes, he knows what the vision is for the wedding and the reception and he knows that with the help of Jane, the wedding planner the two of you hired once you realized planning a wedding on your own wasn’t something you were cut out for, it shouldn’t be an issue to get exactly what you’re looking for. But going off of the way you’re practically clinging to him and on the brink of full on crying in the middle of this flower shop he is clearly mistaken. Harry decides in that moment when he feels your grip on him tighten as he hears you let out a shaky breath that he is going to make sure you leave this shop with a smile on your face.

“We are going to have centerpieces love don’t worry.” His voice is soft and soothing in your ear as he begins to ever so gently rock you back and forth a bit in his arms. “Let’s have a look at the options she’s shown you so far yeah?” You open your eyes and look up at him so your chin is resting on his chest and Harry looks down at you and gives you a reassuring smile as he leans down and places a quick kiss to your lips.

You reluctantly let go of him as he loosens his hold on you so you can turn around in his arms. His hands move to your shoulders as he walks a half step behind you as you lead him over to row of tables that hold the examples of centerpieces Malory has given you so far. As he stands there Harry can’t help but raise an eyebrow as he looks at them, he doesn’t know why the lovely shop owner would show these to you after you gave her the inspiration for the wedding because these don’t fit the theme at all so he can understand why you feel defeated and upset.

“This can’t be right.” You just shrug at Harry’s words as you look at the arrangements again trying to maybe find one you don’t dislike too much. “You told her where we are getting married and everything?” He asks and you nod because yes you told Malory all the details of your wedding.

“Yes and I think she even talked to Jane as well.” You answer and Harry is officially dumbfounded but he doesn’t have time to ask anything else before Malory walks in with another centerpiece in her hands and this one is no where close to what you’re looking for with all the bright pink and white flowers sticking out of a clear vase with a big pink tule bow wrapped around it. Harry feels your shoulders slump under his hands and even though he can’t see your face he knows you well enough to know you’re putting on your best fake smile as you look the arrangement over.

“This one can be done is different heights as well and we can add candles around it or-”

“I’m sorry Malory but are you sure these are for our wedding?” Harry doesn’t want to be rude but he also doesn’t want to look at anymore centerpieces that aren’t anywhere near what you want and he knows you’re too polite to say anything so he will happily do it for you. Malory turns her attention away from the arrangement and faces Harry with a slight look of concern on her face so Harry does what he does best and turns on the charm flashing her a smile that shows off his dimples as his gently squeezes your shoulders.

“I only ask because while these are just lovely arrangements,” she smiles and you see a slight blush take over her cheeks and you almost feel bad because you know how overwhelming Harry’s smile and slow and soothing tone can be especially when you’re not prepared for it. “They aren’t really the right fit for our wedding.” He explains with a warm smile and Malory looks away from Harry’s intense stare so she can turn and grab her clipboard off the table next to the last arrangement she brought out.

“Let’s see the notes I have for your wedding are classical glamorous romance with reds and pinks but also the classic touches of white-”

“Sorry for interrupting but whose wedding is that for? Because that’s not ours.” Harry asks in a soft tone as he continues to soothingly rub your shoulders, he knows you’re on edge because you don’t like this sort of thing and he’s aware you view this as a form of confrontation and you would rather just look at arrangements that you hate than tell Malory you don’t think these are meant for your wedding.

“Oh god I’m so sorry these are for the Gibbs wedding.” You feel your whole body relax as Malory admits the mistake because you now know it’s not that she doesn’t understand your vision for the wedding it’s just that she had the completely wrong wedding in mind.

“Ah that explains it then because we are the Styles wedding.” Harry states as Malory gives you an apologetic smile as she reaches for one of your hands.

“You must’ve been freaking out oh my goodness I’m so sorry.” You let out a sigh of relief making Malory chuckle as she gives your hand a squeeze. “Again I’m so sorry about this but let me just go grab your sheet and show you some examples that actually fit your wedding theme okay?” You just nod as she gives your hand one last squeeze before letting it go and heading off to the back to grab your sheet and start setting up some examples of centerpieces you’ll actually like.

“How do you do that?” Harry raises an eyebrow at you as you turn around so you’re looking up at him with a look of almost disbelief on your face because you really don’t get how he manages to just swoop in a save the day all the time.

“Do what?”

“You come in here and I’m on the verge of a breakdown and not even five minutes later is all fixed.”

“I just don’t like it when you’re upset.” He answers as he places a hand on the side of your face while he other one rests on your hip. “So I try to fix it as quickly as I can so if that means I have to tell Malory that she has to start over with the arrangements then so be it.” He explains with a shrug because for Harry it comes without any hesitation to do whatever he has to in order to make you feel better. That’s just how he’s been since the day you met all those years ago so he has no plans on stopping and if anything now he’s just willing to do even more to stop your tears because you’re going to be his wife soon and the idea of you being upset makes his heart sink to the bottom of his chest.

“I’m so happy it was just a little mixup.” Harry smiles as he watches you look genuinely more relaxed as you lean into his touch.

“Me too because I really didn’t want to have to fire her.” You roll your eyes making Harry raise an eyebrow at you. “What? You don’t think I’d do it?”

“You can’t fire her Harry because we haven’t hired her yet.” You state as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck. “This is like the test run and if we see something we like then Jane will handle setting it all up for the day of.” Harry just nods and you begin messing with the hair at the back of his neck.

“Well just for the record I’d happily fire her if I needed to.”

“Really?”

“There’s not a lot I wouldn’t do for you love.” You smile at his answer as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead before he leans all the way down and places a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He mumbles against your lips before giving you one more little peck.

“I love you too” Harry can’t help but grin as he pulls away because he’ll never get tired of hearing those words leave your mouth.

“Okay now tell me does this fit your wedding more?” Harry’s hand drops from your face and your arms go from around his neck as Malory appears with one of the most beautiful arrangements you’ve ever seen in her hands. Harry smiles as he watches you walk over to the table she carefully sets it down on so you can get a closer look but he can tell by the smile on your face that you love it.

“This is gorgeous.” Your answer makes Malory smile as she goes to grab another example for the two of you to look at. “We might actually have centerpieces at our wedding.” Harry chuckles as you turn and stare at him with a giant smile on your face as you excitedly clap your hands and do your signature happy dance.

“Thank god because what’s a wedding without centerpieces?”

[qveerthe0ry]

Naked in Manhattan

Summary: Marcus has never slept with a man, Dieter's willing to remedy that - written for @romanarose Pride Event Week 3: Sex/kissing Word Count: 7,730 Pairing: (college aged) Marcus Pike x Dieter Bravo Rating: 18+ mdni Warnings: coming out, discussions of sexuality, brief mentions of homophobia, oral sex(m), (lots of) hickeys, frottage, cum eating, armpit stuff Betas: OBVIOUSLY @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar the loves of my life 💖A/N: I highly suggest listening to Naked in Manhattan by Chappell Roan before/while reading this. Totally got the vibes of this entire fic by listening to it on a walk one day

Dieter’s learned a lot in his five and a half years of college. Not really much about statistics or geology, but about people. He’s been around long enough to know that the sad little guy on his front porch steps, avoiding the party, and chain smoking cigarettes is having a rough go of it. 

“Hey buddy,” Dieter says, quietly, as not to startle the slumped figure. 

Marcus looks up at him through misty eyes and a cloud of stale Winston smoke.

“Hey.”

He’s not crying, but he’s definitely crying for help.

“You okay?” 

Dieter takes a seat on the step below him.

“Yeah, fine. Just needed air.”

Marcus gestures with the cigarette in his hand, then huffs out a laugh at the irony. 

“You’ve been getting drunk a lot lately.”

Maybe Dieter shouldn’t pry. It’s not unusual for his rented house to be filled with students coming and going at all hours of the day, between classes on weekdays or all day on the weekends. The cheap beer just shows up, as does the weed, and he doesn’t usually question it. 

But he’s closer to Marcus. So he notices more. He usually only sees him here on weekends. During the week he’s commonly found in the library or the student union, books sprawled out in front of him. He’s driven, pre-law, and has a better head on his shoulders than most people he hangs with. 

But Marcus has been at his place every night this week, either stumbling home in the wee hours of the morning or sleeping late on his couch or floor. It concerns Dieter in a way that surprises him. 

Usually it’s none of his business. 

“I haven’t had a sip,” Marcus tells him. 

And his voice doesn’t have that sharp, defensive tone Dieter was expecting. It’s more defeated than anything. 

“Yeah but what about last night?” 

Marcus shrugs. 

“And the night before? And every other night this week?”

“Just having fun,” Marcus mumbles through another drag of his cigarette. 

Dieterlooks around at his empty porch.

“Are you?” 

Then Marcus laughs. It bubbles up out of him in an almost terrifying way, and damn near immediately turns into sobs hidden behind his hands. 

“Fuck, dude, are you tripping?”

Marcus shakes his head. Dieter didn’t think so. He’s strictly an alcohol guy, won’t even touch weed. Something about the FBI and polygraph tests. Dieter finds it charming if not a bit manic. 

He keeps crying though, so hard he has to flick his cigarette out onto the dimly lit street so he can rub at his eyes. 

Dieter’s not sure what to do. Normally he’d offer someone drugs, but that won’t work. 

His hand hovers over Marcus’ shaking back for a few moments before he rests a heavy palm between his shoulder blades. 

He can feel the way Marcus’ breath shudders out of him, and tells him to start taking slow breaths. When it works, Dieter’s kind of amazed at how great he is at damage control. 

“That’s it man, just breathe.” 

Marcus nods, finally removes his hands from his face. He’s always been pretty in a very preppy way, with his perfect hair and teeth and his little dimples. He looks even prettier now, as much as Dieter kicks himself for that thought. His face is red and wet and his brown eyes are wider than they’ve ever been before. 

A few deep breaths in through his nose and out his mouth later, Marcus is sufficiently calm enough to speak. 

“I’m sorry.”

Dieter waves him off. 

“Don’t be. Looks like it felt good, I might have a cry later too.”

Marcus lets out a wet chuckle and shuts his eyes as one last salty little droplet brushes past his long eyelashes. 

“Everything okay at home? You’re not failing a class, are you?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s stupid.” 

“Girl problems?” 

Marcus laughs again, and Dieter startles a little, afraid he’s going to start back up sobbing at any moment. 

He doesn’t though. He’s quiet and avoiding Dieter’s gaze as he frantically gets another cigarette from his pack and lights it up. 

Dieter thinks he’s hit the nail on the head until Marcus takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales. 

“I’m fucking gay.” 

Dieter opens his mouth in shock, or understanding, or maybe to try and say something, but Marcus continues. 

“This whole time I’ve been gay. I don’t even— I’ve had so many girlfriends. I think they’re just nice. I’ve never— I fucking hated sleeping with them. I thought it was because it was awkward, and we’re all inexperienced? It sucked, Dieter. And I thought all guys were curious about other guys, you know? They all talk about their dicks with each other, since middle school. I just thought— and then there’s this guy… in my intro to psych class. And he’s so nice and handsome and I just always want to hang out with him. And I didn’t know why. But I want to kiss him. And I never felt that way about any of my girlfriends. And now I realize I’ve just— I’ve just been gay this whole time.”

He’s out of breath when he quits talking, but he sucks down more of his cigarette anyway. Dieter isn’t quite sure what to say to him. Usually when someone comes out to him, it’s in a less… frantic manner, more proud than anything. But this poor freshman has been on a gay crisis bender all week and is more than a little traumatized by all of it, and it’s just different with Marcus. 

“That’s um… Sounds like you’ve been going through a rough time with it.” 

Marcus sniffles and nods. 

“Been through all five or whatever stages of grief already. It’s been a long week.” 

“Are you… Upset? That you’re gay?” 

Marcus’ head lolls back to thump against the porch railing. 

“No… I’m more upset that I didn't figure it out until now.” 

“You’re still plenty young, Marcus. You’re what— nineteen?”

“Eighteen. Skipped a grade.”

Jesus. Dieter feels even worse now about thinking he’s pretty when he cries. 

“See? You’re a spring chicken, dude. You figured it out plenty quick.” 

“When did you know?” 

Dieter chews on his lip, considers lying just for Marcus’ sake, but decides against it. 

“I pretty much always knew, honestly. But I mean— I was weird anyway, you know? Never really fit in or felt I had to play a certain part or be a certain way. It just made sense. Also, my dad always said I was as queer as a three dollar bill so… that helped.” 

Dieter steals the cigarette between Marcus’ fingers to take a drag himself. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Nothing to be sorry for, man,” Dieter tells him. 

Marcus stares at where Dieter’s lips wrap around his cigarette for a bit too long, and Dieter hands it back, if only to try and stop whatever it is that’s bound to happen next. 

But Marcus takes another drag himself, and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip, and Dieter has never been called strong-willed. 

“What’s it like?” 

“What?”

“To be with a guy? What’s it like?” 

Dieter shrugs. 

“Depends on the guy.” 

Marcus sighs. 

“Are you uh— how do you like… it?” 

“Are you asking if I’m a top or a bottom?” 

Marcus’s face flushes a cute color in the yellow of the porch lights. 

“Both,” Dieter shrugs, “but I haven’t really done that with a lot of guys. Kind of a hassle, you know?” 

Marcus nods, but then his brow quirks up in question. 

“What do you mean? What do you— what do you do, then?” 

Dieter chuckles. 

“All kinds of things, babe.” 

He watches Marcus’ breath catch, the little stutter of his chest. 

“Would you show me?” 

Dieter rolls his eyes to distract them both from the fact that he really, really wants to. 

“C’mon, man. You don’t wanna fool around with me. I’m a loser. Go find a pretty finance boy to shack up with.” 

Maybe he’s less weak-willed than he thought. 

Marcus’ shoulders slump again, and christ, though, is he supposed to just let him leave like a kicked puppy? 

“There’s no intro to psych guy.”

It’s quiet, mumbled around his cigarette, and his eyes won’t leave his feet. 

“What?” 

“It’s you, okay? You’re my— gay awakening, or whatever. Why do you think I’ve been here all week?”

Dieter’s heart is hammering against his chest at that admission. This was not how he figured his Friday night would go.

“Free beer?” 

His joke doesn’t land. Marcus rolls his eyes. 

“It’s not like… I’m not like in love with you or anything. I just… always wanna see you. And you’re— well, you know. You’re hot. And you’re really nice to everyone. And I get this… I feel so weird when I’m around you, like, nauseous. Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

Marcus flicks yet another cigarette to the curb and makes to get up, but before Dieter can think better of it, he grips him on the shoulder to keep him seated. 

“That’s… actually really sweet, Marcus.” 

He scoffs, hides his face in his hands, and it’s so cute Dieter can’t help but smile. 

“Really— Usually people just want to fuck me, or use me for drugs.” 

Marcus groans a little, mortified, and his hands run back to mess up his pristinely styled hair. 

“Buddy, I’m serious. You’re a little charmer.”

Marcus looks up from his lap at that, scratching that neatly buzzed hair on the back of his neck, and his eyes are a little less embarrassed and a little more twinkly.

“You’re just saying that.”

Dieter shakes his head grinning. 

“No, it’s cute. Being genuine is never a bad thing.”

And the thing is, Dieter’s not lying. It’s possibly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him. But he’s toeing a very very fine line here, with himself. Because Marcus is so pretty, and so smart, and he’s soft and kind and he’s real but he’s young. 

And Dieter’s just a Super Super Senior, a total burnout, on his way to holding the world record for The Longest College Career. He’s 23 and he’s still undecided and he probably won’t even get  a college degree after all is said and done. 

But Marcus is looking at him with those big brown eyes, watching, calculating. 

“I just— I feel like you wouldn’t judge me. If I did the wrong thing. You know?”

“I wouldn’t. Anyone who would isn’t worth your time.”

Marcus huffs. Maybe Dieter can still save this. 

“Would you… tell me? What you’d do? What I should do?”

And just like that, Dieter is hopping right over that line with both feet. 

“Kiss me.”

Marcus’ eyes grow even bigger.

“Like, right now? Here?” 

“If you want to. That’s what I’d want you to do, to kiss me right here, like you couldn’t help yourself.”

And Dieter will be damned if he doesn’t do just that, surging forward to grab the sides of his face and press their lips together. 

His lips are so soft, and his face is smooth, and he’s eager, a bit too much, but it only adds to that coincidental charm. Dieter’s left to catch up, as Marcus swipes his tongue along the seam of his mouth and groans. 

Dieter pulls away. Marcus’ mouth gapes open, and his shoulders heave with his fast breaths. 

“You’re so… scruffy.”

Dieter chuckles, wipes Marcus’ spit from his lips and straightens out his mustache. 

“Not good?”

“No, god no, it’s really good.”

And then Marcus smashes their lips together again as a pathetic little sound escapes his throat. Dieter opens his mouth this time, lets Marcus slide his tongue around, a little violent, and this is all a bit too much for some front porch steps, isn’t it?

“Hey,” Dieter says softly, pulling away. 

Marcus’ brows draw up in confusion. 

“Sorry. I’m not a good kisser, am I?”

Dieter sighs, grabs one of Marcus’ hands on his face to link their fingers together. 

“It’s not that,” he says. 

He turns his face to kiss the center of Marcus’ palm and smiles when his breath hitches. 

“You really wanna do this with me?” 

Marcus is nodding before Dieter even finishes speaking. 

“Only if you really want it, too.”

Dieter squeezes his hand. 

“I do, really.”

Marcus smiles the sweetest little smile, and they both stand up, and Dieter doesn’t let his hand go. 

There’s music on in the house, and it smells like weed, and a few people are playing Nintendo in the living room. They don’t pay any mind as Dieter pulls Marcus up to the second floor, down the hall, and into his dimly lit bedroom. 

At least he’s kept it semi-tidy, he thinks, as Marcus looks around while he shuts and locks the door. His bed isn’t made. He’s sure Marcus makes his bed every morning before class. He hopes he doesn’t mind. 

He seems like he’s too nervous to mind, a jittery little thing standing next to his bed. He’s fiddling with the hem of his shirt, staring holes into the stained carpet, when Dieter moves to stand in front of him. 

“Are you nervous?” 

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Dieter grabs both of his hands, and Marcus finally meets his gaze. 

“It’s okay to be nervous. As long as it’s good nervous.” 

He smiles and nods, but the worry in his brow is still there. 

“We won’t do anything you don’t wanna do, okay?”

That seems to soothe him more. 

“Can we kiss again?”

Dieter chuckles. 

“Of course we can.”

Marcus tips over into him, landing at the side of his mouth but quickly correcting course. He licks, but Dieter keeps his mouth shut, goading him to calm down. And he does, slotting his lips around Dieter's bottom one, and everything else slips into place with a soft, satisfied noise from his own chest. 

He lets go of Marcus’ sweaty hands to grab his hips instead, lithe and a little bony. He twitches at the touch, sighs, and presses his lips harder into Dieter’s. His hands search around frantically, jostling them both, until he finds the hem of Dieter’s sweatshirt and gets his hands underneath. 

“Slow,” Dieter mumbles. 

“Hm?”

“Not a race, Marcus. Take your time. Enjoy it.” 

Marcus nods, but gapes at him, like he’s not quite sure what to do next. 

“You wanna get comfy? Take your shoes off, sit down?”

Marcus nods again, but with a little direction, takes his shoes off and sits on the bed, criss-cross applesauce like the cutest fucking thing Dieter’s ever seen. 

“I want this to be— I want you to have a good time, feel good. So tell me if you don’t feel good… or if there’s anything you wanna try. Communication is like, super sexy, right?”

Dieter sheds his shoes and his hoodie as he speaks, thinks he catches Marcus’ eyes staring at the spot between his signature pajama pants and his shirt where it rides up. 

“Yeah… like, dirty talk?”

Dieter huffs out a laugh as he sits facing Marcus, crossing his legs, mirroring him to make him as comfortable as possible.

“Could be dirty talk, yeah. But just normal talk, too. It can be hot to talk about things like… how do you like to be touched? Where?” 

Marcus clears his throat and scratches the back of his head with a puzzled look on his face. 

“My— my dick?”

Dieter wants to laugh, but he can’t blame the guy. It sounds like the only experience he’s had so far is rushed fucks with high school sweethearts. 

“Okay, yeah, that’s a good start. So, for me, I like being kissed. Everywhere. I like feeling lips on my jaw and my neck and especially my nipples. You can bite, too.”

Marcus’ eyebrows raise, his plush lips forming a circular shape that Dieter tries and fails not to focus on. 

“Oh, yeah, okay. I— I like that too. I like when it’s… sloppy.”

Dieter hums, smiles, and nods.

“Anything else you like?” 

He watches Marcus bite his bottom lip and trace shapes on the bedsheets between them. 

“I don’t really know.” 

“That’s okay. Maybe we can figure it out together, yeah?”

His long eyelashes flutter as he blinks real slow, and he smiles. 

“Yeah. Thank you.” 

Dieter does chuckle then. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m gonna have a lot of fun with you.”

Christ, Dieter thinks, if his face gets any more red he might burst into flames. 

He kisses him, to save him from a fiery death. It’s a little awkward, with both of their legs crossed in front of them, but it’s easier to take their time like this. 

Marcus keeps it slow, so Dieter can finally lead. He licks into his mouth to feel his hard palate, and the way he whimpers and shivers in response is so delicious that Dieter can’t help but to do it again and again. 

He feels long fingers grip his thighs, soft at first, but squeezing harder when Marcus returns the favor and scrapes his tastebuds along Dieter’s sharp canines. 

There’s twin sighs when Marcus pulls away, only a little, eyes still shut. 

“You’re really fucking good at this,” he mumbles. 

Dieter hums and pecks his lips again, soft and wet. 

“Could kiss you all night.”

It’s true, even though there’s also a million other things he wants to do with Marcus. He tries to push those wants down by kissing him again, getting that plump bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it. The noise Marcus makes has his cock filling steadily with blood, and he knows it’s very obvious in his pajama pants, and he hopes Marcus doesn’t freak out.

Like he’s reading Dieter’s mind, Marcus’ hands slide so fucking slowly up his thighs. The movements are jerky, and he hesitates when just the tip of his finger brushes his cock. His inhale is audible, but his curious touch proceeds, just the lightest ghosting across his shaft. 

But then he’s pulling away, and Dieter feels on edge, bracing himself for the worst. 

“Can I touch it?”

Dieter exhales his relief.

“You can… Are you open to suggestions, though?”

Marcus nods, his slick mouth hanging open. 

“You could get on top of me, let me feel how much you like this, too. Drag it out, make me really want it.” 

He smirks as Marcus curses, closing his eyes and pressing his palm to the front of his jeans. But he nods, and uncrosses his legs, so Dieter does the same. 

And then, he’s got a lapful of Marcus, and he’s staring up into his glassy, beautiful eyes. 

“Like this?”

His hips shift, and his pert little ass grinds against Dieter’s cock while his own presses against his belly. 

“Just like that. Is this still okay?” 

Marcus doesn’t answer him, just devours his lips again as he rocks his hips and supplies them both with heady friction. His little whimpers are muffled, and his teeth are sinking into Dieter’s lip a little too hard, but in a way that makes his cock throb and pulse against the tight ass against it. 

Dieter’s hands find those lithe hips again, this time under his shirt. His skin is scalding to the touch and so fucking smooth. He digs his thumbs into his hip bones, drags little circles into them that make his hips jolt and stutter. 

Fuck. He likes this a lot. Maybe too much. He pulls himself away to reel it in a bit, maybe to check and make sure this is still alright—

“I’m so fucking hard,” Marcus breathes, “I’ve never felt like this.” 

And as he speaks, he’s ripping his t-shirt over his head and flinging it elsewhere. 

He’s gorgeous. A little scrawny but smooth, everywhere, just miles of tan skin that’s paler here where it gets no sun. Dieter wants to bite, and kiss, and suckle on every fucking inch of it. 

For now, Dieter uses all of his brain power to mumble a distracted ‘me too,’ as his hands moved upward to splay across all that hairless skin. 

Marcus’ stomach tenses and relaxes under his hands, and his chest heaves as Dieter cradles his ribs and brushes his thumbs over his nipples. 

“Does this feel good?” 

He circles them, flicks them a little bit, and wants to curl up and live in that little gasp Marcus makes. 

“Yes.” 

His head is leaning back between his shoulders, all raised and on-edge. That’s not what Dieter wants. He wants him relaxed, wants him all gooey and loose. 

Slowly, gently, Dieter tips him over, a hand on the back of his head until it lands on the pillows. The look in his eyes gets a little squirrely, and his breath picks up, and his nails scrabble at Dieter’s bicep. 

“Is this still okay?” 

Marcus nods quickly, but he’s slower with the verbal response. 

“I think so… just nervous.” 

“Still good nervous?” 

As if to prove it, he cants his hips up into Dieter and he’s rock hard against his thigh. 

“Still good nervous.”

Dieter’s own prick throbs and twitches as he hums. He lowers himself even more over Marcus, finds his racing pulse point and plants a hot, wet kiss there. 

“Can I kiss you here?” he whispers. 

His chin brushes Dieter’s cheek when he nods, and Marcus relocates his hands to reach up the back of his shirt. His palms are sweaty and hot as Dieter trails a wet line of kisses down to his prominent collar bone. 

His skin is so salty, and the heat from his body is making his cheap cologne smell even stronger, and Dieter feels high even though he hasn’t smoked in hours. 

“How about here, Marcus?”

He looks up at the younger man as he hovers his mouth above one tiny, pebbled nipple. He watches as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and smiles and impish grin when Marcus nods again. 

The groan he receives when he closes his mouth around it has him pressing his hips to the mattress for relief. One of Marcus’ hands finds Dieter’s hair and grips.

“Ah fuck.”

Just like that, the fingers loosen and leave his head and Dieter actually whines at the loss. 

“Sorry!”

“No, no, that was a good fuck. Love getting my hair pulled.”

Dieter glances back up at Marcus and watches as his wheels turn. 

“Oh… really?”

He chuckles as he places a sloppy kiss on his sternum, delighted at the way the muscles twitch under his lips. 

“Mmmhmm.”

Marcus sighs as Dieter finds his other nipple.  

“My ex-girlfriend hated it.” 

Dieter nips at the hard bud in his mouth and smirks when Marcus’ hips jolt up. 

“I like a little pain with my pleasure,” he explains. 

“I— can you bite me again?”

Dieter curses and obliges immediately, sinking his teeth into the meat of his pec this time. 

“God, I like that.”

He even earns another tug at his hair, and Dieter knows there’s gotta be a damp spot on the front of his pajamas. 

“That’s so good, Marcus. Keep telling me what you like.” 

Marcus squirms under him as he alternates a string of kisses and licks and bites down his torso. His nails scratch Dieter’s scalp in between tugging on his hair, and this is the most fun Dieter’s had in the bedroom in a long while. 

Marcus has a tiny bit of hair below his belly button, and it’s so fucking cute and whispy when Dieter runs his tongue along the path. But before Dieter can get the fly of his jeans unfastened, Marcus holds a hand over his. 

“Can I try on you now?” 

Dieter’s gaze flickers up to his face, and he looks so sweet, pleading with his big puppy eyes. 

“Yeah, yes, of course you can.”

Marcus smiles, and it’s sure, like he’s finally settled into this, and it makes Dieter’s apprehension fall away. 

It also makes him that much more horny, hard as ever when he lies down with his head on the pillows. He reaches down to readjust and watches Marcus clock the movement with a heady look.

“This is good for you, too?” 

His voice is breathy when he asks, when his hand slips under Dieter’s t-shirt. 

“Marcus, I’m loving this. I feel like a sexy experiment. Poke and prod me, babe.” 

And through all of this newness and anxiety and apprehension, Marcus laughs. It’s music to Dieter’s ears, watching his eyes light up as he chuckles. 

“Take this off then,” he instructs through his laughter. 

“Yes sir,” Dieter purrs, “bossing me around also does it for me. You’re a natural already.” 

“Y-yeah? I don’t— I’ve never been like that.”

Dieter fumbles to back track at the way Marcus’ confidence falls away. 

“It’s okay, that’s an advanced lesson. My bad. Just— Just do what you want with me. Explore. I’m all yours.” 

He talks as he sheds his shirt, and when the damned thing finally pulls free, he feels a little scrutinized under Marcus’s wide eyes. And he kinda really likes it. 

He settles back against the mattress, one arm above his head while the other reaches out to encourage Marcus to come closer. He does, only a little timid as his gaze rakes over every inch of his body. 

He settles between Dieter’s spread legs, one hand dipping the mattress next to him while the other lands hesitantly on his flank. His warm, sweaty palm feels the skin there, draws upward toward his chest, but takes a completely unconventional detour to his armpit. 

Dieter’s cock throbs. This is so fucking weird and so fucking hot. 

Marcus’ jaw drops slack as his fingers card through all of his armpit hair, and it tickles a little bit, but mostly it just makes Dieter’s arousal grow heavy in his groin, burning. 

Before Dieter can really assess what’s going on, or encourage him, or tell him how fucking hard he’s making him, Marcus leans down to capture his lips in his own. 

Dieter groans and scrabbles to grip his waist, arching his hips for any relief and finding it against the front of Marcus’ jeans, a hard line wrapped in denim that twitches against his own. He moans, low and long, as he twirls the thick hair between his finger and thumb. 

And then his hand is gone, and Dieter’s quite disappointed, but he can’t just say that, can he? He weighs the pros and cons of telling Marcus not to stop as the other man trails his lips down the patchy stubble on his jaw, and bites the sensitive skin on his neck. 

Maybe he should tell him. That’s a good lesson, right? How to take feedback, good or bad. But ‘hey keep stroking my armpit hair’ is a bit startling, isn’t it? 

He’s so distracted by the inner turmoil that he doesn’t realize the path Marcus’ has taken until hot breath ghosts that bit of fat between his tit and armpit and then he sniffs, and groans, and licks up all the hair while he presses his cock down into Dieter’s own and Jesus Fuck—

He quickly finds purchase in Marcus’ hair and curses, grinds his hips back up into him with what he hopes is encouraging words. But forgive him if his brain is a little bit completely scrambled. 

Marcus bites just under his patch of armpit hair, burying his nose in it once more, and these primal sounds he makes are vibrating through Dieter’s chest. All he can do at this point is lie back and take it and succumb to the fact that this is definitely altering his brain chemistry for the rest of his life. 

It all stops rather abruptly, though, and two hot hands grab Dieter’s hips hard, pushes them down into the mattress as Marcus arches away from him. 

“I might— I might come.”

Dieter blinks his bleary eyes open to look at the panicked man, who’s squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip. 

“It’s okay if you do. You can have me all night.” 

“Fuck— Shut up, Jesus Christ.”

Dieter huffs, scratches at his wet armpit, and patiently waits for Marcus to settle down. He could probably come that way too, to be honest, with that pretty boy’s tongue lapping at his underarm and their cocks grinding together. 

Marcus’ eyelashes flutter open, and Dieter smiles at him softly, careful not to move or touch. He looks like a hair trigger, sweaty and panting already, with a really fucking hot damp patch soaking through the crotch of his jeans. 

“Sorry. I think I’m good— wait, sorry, was that weird?”

Dieter allows himself to place one of his hands on Marcus’ own, where it’s still gripping tight to his hip bone. 

“It was weird in the hottest way possible.” 

Marcus shakes his head at himself and closes his eyes again. 

“I’m dead serious. I didn’t know how sensitive I was there. You’re teaching me things. That’s super hot.”

Marcus sighs. 

“It’s just… I like the hair. And your deodorant smells nice.”

He pries his eyes open, like he expects Dieter to be disgusted, but his confession only makes his cock jump very prominently in his pajamas. 

“Doesn’t taste very good, though.” 

And now Dieter is laughing, and tugging Marcus back down, mumbling ‘prove it’ and shoving his tongue into his offensively chemical-flavored mouth. 

It’s okay though, he just licks and licks until the taste has dissipated and Marcus is letting go of the death grip on his sides. His mouth follows a much more predictable route, this time, and Dieter watches his every move as those pretty lips wrap around his nipples, one and then the other, until he’s biting and Dieter is whimpering and asking for more. 

“You can leave marks. I like ‘em.” 

Marcus curses against his sternum and obeys, so fucking obedient, suckling Dieter’s skin and rolling it between his teeth. Looking up at him, his eyes look so determined, all dark and heavy, especially when he pulls away to admire the bruise he’s left. 

“More. Want to see you all over me in the morning.” 

“Fuck, Dieter. How’d you get so good at— at talking like that?” 

Dieter chuckles, then hisses when Marcus sucks the skin on his belly into the sharp edges of his teeth. He’s looking up with an expectant quirk of his brow.

“I just say what’s on my mind,” he answers.

Marcus hums, and Dieter places his hand on his jaw to feel it working, a third mark blooming bright red on his hip. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks. 

A fourth mark, this one deeper than the rest, right above the waistband of his pants, as Marcus thinks. 

“I want your cock in my mouth.”

Said cock jerks wildly, disrupting the tent in his pajamas, and Marcus has the audacity to smirk. Dieter lets his thumb trace that wet, swollen bottom lip and doesn’t miss the little whine that Marcus tries to hide. 

“Will you teach me?” 

It’s now that Dieter realizes he’s created an absolute monster, with Marcus looking up at him all wide-eyed, batting those long eyelashes. He knows what he’s doing, and it just makes it all so much worse. Or better. Both, really. 

He clears his throat to try to gather his bearings before he speaks. 

“Yeah, I’ll teach you. Pull it out for me.” 

Dieter watches as his breath hitches, and he eyes the tent in Dieter’s pants with an array of emotions washing over his features. There’s hesitation for sure, as he toys with his waistband. But he’s licking his lips, and taking a big deep breath as he tugs them down Dieter’s thighs. 

And then he’s staring at his cock, swaying in the breeze, and Dieter thinks this would be much less intense if penises weren’t so offensive and in your face. 

“Pretty,” Marcus mumbles, and it makes him giggle. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, it’s— I like it.” 

“Thank you. That’s very sweet.” 

Marcus rolls his eyes but smiles. 

“I can touch it?”

“Yeah, of course. Anything you want. Go at your own pace.”

Maybe it’s cliche, but as soon as Marcus’ hand wraps around his cock, Dieter is done for. Fuck, it feels so good, the way his movements are gentle and calculated, the way he’s being so attentive for his first time, exploratory. His free hand cradles Dieter’s sac, his thumb tracing the seam, and it’s alarming how close this is getting him. It’s so intimate, and genuine, and it’s so hot that he gets to be here for Marcus’ first time. 

Marcus squeezes him tight and strokes, once, from base to tip. He thumbs at his frenulum, slippery with pre come, then lifts that to his lips. It’s like slow motion when he watches him poke his tongue out to taste, and he closes his eyes and hums. 

“Better than the deodorant, for sure.” 

And Dieter’s cock bobs as he laughs. 

“That’s a relief.” 

“I’ve never tasted my own before,” Marcus says. 

“No?” 

“Mm-mm. Seemed… gay.” 

And he laughs at himself, but his face inches closer, and in an instant his tongue is flicking out to lap up more of it, straight from the source. 

Dieter gasps at the contact, so sudden. His taste buds are rough against his slit, in a good way, and he has to cradle Marcus’ neck to reel himself in. 

“That’s so good,” he whispers, “keep doing that.” 

And he does, little kitten licks to the sensitive head of his cock, looking up at him from under those long eyelashes. Dieter groans and closes his eyes because if Marcus keeps looking at him like that, he will come before he can have any fun with him. 

Then, in an instant, he’s completely enveloped by warmth and wetness, too fast, and he opens his eyes at the same time Marcus gags and coughs and pulls off of him. 

“Jesus, Marcus, take it slow.” 

He coughs more, with brow all furrowed and frustrated, and Dieter smooths his hair off of his forehead. 

“Are you alright?” 

Marcus clears his throat as he nods. 

“Yeah, sorry, I can’t— I thought that would be easier.”

Dieter huffs, sits up a bit and leans on his elbow so he can see him better. His eyes are watery and not in a sexy way this time. He pets Marcus’ hair a bit, hoping to soothe him, but the redness doesn’t fade from his cheeks. 

“You don’t have to take it all, that’s no fun, choking like that,” he says, “are you sure you’re okay? We can stop.” 

“No! No— I don’t wanna stop. I’m just embarrassed.”

God, he’s so fucking sweet. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. We’ve all been there. I threw up on the first dick I sucked.” 

“Gross, dude.”

“I’m just saying, it could be way worse. Nothing to even be embarrassed about.” 

Marcus sighs and hides his face in the crease of Dieter’s hip. 

“Seriously, I’m still so hard I could shatter diamonds. You’re so fucking hot, it doesn’t matter if you choke a little.” 

He feels Marcus’ teeth on the skin of his hip before he sees his jaw moving. He bites and sucks and it’s another beautiful piece of him he’ll get to take from this experience. 

“That’s it. It’s all about the recovery. Fuck, Marcus, your mouth feels so good on me. Everywhere.” 

Dieter lifts his hips up to encourage him to bite more, mark him up all over. He follows eagerly, until there’s little love bites scattered across the thin skin over his hip bone and his cock is weeping for attention. 

Marcus looks up at him, finally, as he hovers just above his prick.

“Can I try again?”

Dieter hums and cards his fingers through his thick brown hair. 

“Play until you win, babe.” 

He’s much more careful, this time. He takes the head into his mouth and sucks, lets his tongue lather and swirl around it as his hand keeps his dick in place. He’s gorgeous, with his cheeks hollowed out and his eyes shut in concentration. 

“Yeah, just like that, fucking perfect.”

Marcus whimpers around his cock, and drool is starting to leak from the corners of his mouth and drip down Dieter’s shaft. 

“Move your hand a bit, jerk me off while you suck on it.”

He follows the direction so well, letting his hand draw up to meet his lips, then back down, over and over, and Dieter can feel his gut growing hot and tight. His tongue is working him relentlessly, and he’s never really had a partner use theirs so much, but the frantic swirling and flicking has his head spinning. 

“You’re amazing,” Dieter breathes, “making me feel so good.”

At the encouragement, Marcus braves another inch of his cock. He starts to bob his head up and down, following his lips with his fist, and the breaths through his nose get heavier. Dieter babbles a bit, just encouraging words as Marcus works him dutifully, trying with all his might not to thrust up into his hot, sloppy mouth. 

But then Marcus looks up at him with his pretty brown eyes and groans around the cock in his mouth and it’s too much. 

“Fuck— fuck, Marcus, let me go.” 

Marcus does, as quickly as he can, panting when his mouth is finally free. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Dieter huffs. 

“Nothing, you’re perfect, gorgeous, beautiful. I just don’t wanna come yet.” 

“Oh.”

The little cock drunk smile he gets is too cute, and Dieter tugs lightly on his hair to get him to crawl back up for a kiss. He tastes like pre-cum, and his nails bite into the heated skin of Marcus’ back for purchase. 

“How are you feeling? Still gay?” 

Marcus laughs against his lips. 

“The gayest I’ve ever been.” 

Dieter collapses back on the pillows to look up at him. 

“Really though, are you still into this?” 

Marcus nods, presses his hips into Dieter’s thigh to swipe away any last remaining doubt. 

“Alright, next and final lesson. Get those tight little jeans off.”

He’s so quick to obey, and Dieter tries not to gawk at how much bigger that wet spot has grown just below his fly. He shakes himself out of it and gets his pajama pants completely off his legs. 

Marcus is so fucking hot, jesus, Dieter feels like he’s pushing his luck having him here in his bed. So lean and long, and his cock is uncut and curves a bit to the left, and he’s still so hard. 

“Get beside me, face me.”

And Marcus looks right at home like this, laid out in his bed, with his bicep bulging from propping his head up on his hand. 

“What’s the lesson?” 

Dieter smirks at the eagerness. 

“I’m gonna jerk us off together.”

Marcus raises his brow. 

“Like, at the same time?”

Dieter hums his affirmative, reaches a tentative hand out to cup Marcus’ pert little asscheek, and chuckles when he twitches. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll save that for another time. If you want.” 

“Shit, yeah, okay.”

And isn’t that gonna be fun? The thought makes Dieter’s cock throb and jerk and he shuffles to close the distance so their pricks line up together. 

“Is this okay? Like this?” 

He looks up from their cocks to watch Marcus’ jaw go slack. 

“Oh god, ‘m not gonna last at all.”

Even as he says it, he’s wrapping his own hand around both of them and squeezing, groaning at the feeling and bucking his hips so they slide together. 

“I don’t want you to last, I want you to feel good.” 

Dieter lets his hand join the fun, covering what Marcus can’t, and his cock jumps in their combined hold when Marcus whines.

“I do, I— fuck, I really do.” 

“Kiss me?”

He’s cut off by Marcus’ lips, all swollen and hot against his own. Marcus moans as soon as their tongues meet, and he starts shaking like a leaf. His hand squeezes harder around their pricks, works them faster, and Dieter can feel each and every twitch of his dripping cock. 

He’s so frantic with it. His breathing whistles fast through his nose, panting into his mouth, and every other exhale is a desperate little noise. It only takes a few dozen strokes for Marcus to fall apart.

“Gonna come— I’m coming, Dieter—”

He gasps as it washes over him. Dieter feels his hot, sticky cum splash over his own hand and his cock and his stomach. Marcus hides his face in the crook of Dieter’s neck and bites as it courses through him. It sends a hot white spark down his spine, and what little filter he’d maintained throughout the night completely short-circuits.

“Shit, that’s it. So fucking good, coming all over me— Fuck, Marcus, you’re hot when you come. You feel so fucking good.”

Marcus whimpers through his aftershocks as Dieter fills his ears with whatever filth he can muster. When it’s too much, and Marcus has to slide his spent cock from their joined hands, he doesn’t let go of Dieter. He helps, with the slick aid of his cum, and Dieter topples over the edge with a growl and Marcus sucks another mark into his overheated skin. 

It’s blinding, it’s his favorite orgasm he’s ever had for sure. Marcus gasps when the first streak of his spend shoots all over his smooth stomach. 

“Fuck yes,” he sighs, exerted but intrigued as Dieter fucks their fists. 

His cum mixes with the stains Marcus already left on his blanket, slowing to a trickle just as Marcus’ grasp loosens. Even when he’s empty, Dieter can still feel the orgasm buzzing through his body as he tries to regain his breath. 

Marcus finally looks up from the scene of the crime and Dieter wants to take a picture of the fucked-out look on his face, his messy hair, his spit-slick lips and flushed face. But he can’t, so he kisses him instead, closing his eyes so maybe he can burn that image into his memory for eternity. 

It’s lazy, so much slower and softer than the way Marcus kissed when he was all keyed up. 

Shit.

Dieter’s in for it. He’s always had an addictive personality, and having Marcus in his bed has been stronger than any fucking drug he’s tried before. 

He whimpers when Marcus pulls away, chasing his lips just for a moment before he reels himself back in. 

He looks down at the mess he’s going to promptly ignore, thinks about how far away the bathroom closet is with all the towels. But then one slender finger is swiping through the cum puddle between them, and lifting to his face, and Dieter devours. 

Marcus chuckles at the desperate noise Dieter makes as he swirls his tongue around to lick up every last drop. 

“How do we taste together?” 

Goddamn, Marcus is much more suave after an orgasm. 

“Like we were made for each other.” 

Christ, he needs to get himself together. His brain is just so fucking fuzzy and light.

Marcus doesn’t run for the hills, though. He giggles, and dips that same finger into their mess again. He brings it up to his own lips this time, sucking it inside his mouth and pulling it out clean. 

There’s a slight grimace as he rolls it around in his mouth. 

“Not as sweet as you were earlier.” 

And Dieter laughs, brushes his two cleanest knuckles against the skin of Marcus’ hip. 

“It’s an acquired taste.” 

Marcus nods, and looks down between them, and some of that lightness in his features fizzles out. 

“Hang on— here, use these.”

Dieter hands him his discarded pajama pants, and they use one leg each to tidy up their hands and stomachs and cocks. Then Dieter balls them up to swipe at his sticky blanket as best as he can. And it’s all so quiet, as their breathing has evened out, and fuck, what if Marcus has some crazy post-nut clarity after this… heavy situation? 

He’s staring at the bedroom door when Dieter looks up to face him. 

“Should I uh… go… now?” 

Dieter sighs and finally gets his freshly wiped hand on Marcus’ skin, colder now where all the sweat has cooled. 

“Personally, I would like it if you stayed. Cuddling after sex is… well, I like it a lot. Some people don’t… it’s okay if you don’t. Whatever you’re comfortable with. This was probably a lot for y—”

Marcus cuts off his rambling— thank god— by burrowing his face in Dieter’s chest and tangling their naked legs together. They both release two huge twin sighs, and Dieter’s instantly soothed by the weight against him, and the lithe fingers stroking his back. 

Dieter can’t help it, he tucks his chin and plants a kiss to the crown of Marcus’ head. He drowns in the scent of sweat and cheap shampoo and feels so grounded for the first time in a very long time. 

Marcus hums, and Dieter pulls him in tighter, swipes his palm over the curve of his tiny asscheek. 

He clears his throat. 

“I don’t have any plans tomorrow…” 

Marcus lifts his head, and he looks so sleepy but so satisfied. 

“So we can stay up all night? You can— could you show me more things?” 

Dieter chuckles and kisses his lips to hide how relieved he feels. 

“Was gonna see if you wanted to catch a movie or something. But I think I like your idea better.” 

“Oh— a movie sounds good! I mean, it would be chill.” 

Dieter huffs. 

“Split the difference, we’ll watch a movie here while I eat your cute little ass?” 

Dieter actually feels his limp cock twitch against his thigh, and tries to hold back a self-satisfied smirk. 

“Yep. Yeah, let’s do that instead.” 

Dieter kisses him, this time just because he can. 

“Get some sleep first, okay? I’ll be right here.” 

The look of comfort on Marcus’ face makes his chest burn and ache. His droopy eyelids close as he smiles, and his head drops to Dieter’s splayed out arm. 

He just watches, for a little while. Lets himself count the deep, even breaths Marcus takes and feels them on the skin of his bicep. 

His arm is gonna go numb in about two minutes tops, and he’ll cherish every pinprick until he drifts off.

[daedelweiss]

undefined

(( TW: flashing lights/colors! )) "his whole life, donnie felt like he wasn't wanted anywhere. he never knew there would be someone, a family even, that begged the world so hard for him to exist 💖"

finally finished the twins hug animatic :sob: i did my best to finish it in a day but it took more than 24 hours hAHAHA- i'm so sleep deprived now- but yeah, this is a condensed, more emotional version of what happens in a future episode. think of it as an alternate version uwu donnie's arc happens around christmas time so i thought this song would fit an emotional moment in the story.

hope y'all like it! 🥺 and i wish someone would give you comforting hugs for the holidays 💖 • ❌ TC*ST DNI ❌ ( 🌿 please do NOT repost, edit, trace, use, and/or sell 🌿 )

[yankpop]

Yandere BTS: Punishment - Maknae Line

DISCLAIMER: This is a FICTION work only made for entertainment purposes that includes yandere/dark. I do not support or encourage any type of abusive behaviour. 

Check more: Masterlist.

Female reader

WARNINGS: Toxic/Unhealthy Relations; Implied Kidnapping (Jimin/Jk) ; Violence.  

AN: Hope you guys like it 💖 Let me know!

--

Jimin

“No, no, no, please… Jimin, please!” you desperately plead, fear striking deep as his hand slowly stalks towards your ankle, his fingers teasing the soft skin with a cruel smirk on his lips at watching your reaction.

“Oh, baby, where’s the tough girl attitude now? Gone?”

You keep your lips tightly closed, eyes wide open, anxious over what is coming. 

“So sad, I was enjoying seeing you pretend to be someone that you clearly aren’t.” Jimin pouts his lips, mimicking a baby voice as he makes fun of you. 

But immediately his amusement soon dies, the smile scarily slipping from his face as irritation replaces it.

You hate how bipolar Jimin seems at times. 

“You should've never - never - had gone against my word. Had you been a good girl to me, there would be no need to be putten back into your place."

"But you’re a stupid, dumb girl.” he spits to your face as his fingers dangerously narrow around your ankle, making you wince in distress. 

You shake your head, eyes watering with silent pleas that go by ignored. 

“Bad girls don’t deserve rewards. They deserve pain. That’s what you deserve, you little bitch.” 

An ear-curdling scream escapes from your lips as Jimin snaps your ankle, the bone cracking with a sickening sound.   

“I wanna see how far you will run away from me with a broken foot.”

V

Access denied. 

You almost choke when the notification shows up. It can’t be real. It’s a glitch or a mistake.

It has to be. 

But no matter how many times you log into your bank account, the app warning is the same. 

You simply don’t have access to the money in the bank account. Your own money. 

You’re so distraught by this that you don’t even notice Taehyung leaning against the door, eyes carefully seeing you. 

“I suppose you’ve discovered it.”

You look up, a frown on your face. 

“The bank… my account... it’s not-”

“I cut your access to it.” the words leave his mouth as if it’s no big deal. 

“What? Why? It’s my money!” your voice wavers when he raises his brows, slightly annoyed at your burst. 

“And you’re my girlfriend, so your money is mine too.” Taehyung solemnly declares, tongue poking in his cheek. 

Your mouth drops open at his words. A flame of anger ignites inside you, only to be quickly smothered underneath his hard gaze.

“You need to-”

“No, you need to start behaving like you actually have a brain in that head of yours.” he interrupts you, raising his voice above yours, shutting you down. “You’re nothing without me. You can’t even control your own life, let alone your bank account.”

Taehyung’s tone gets meaner with every step he takes, slowly moving forwards towards you. 

“Anyways, why do you even need money if I’m here to provide for you, babe? You need me and nothing else.”

Jungkook

A pained cry escapes your lips as the belt roughly connects with your sore ass. Your hand grip the sheets tighter, pain spreading through your back, making it harder to ignore.

The deep breaths you attempt to take are a failed exercise that doesn't help you at all, if anything it only makes your pain worse. 

“This one is for lying to me.” Jungkook declares, voice filled with contained anger. You can only cry as the skin of your arse burns, sobbing when he twists your wrist to keep you from writhing around. 

Another sharp hit has you burying your face into the bed sheets, muffling down your sobs. But you’re still able to hear him speak. 

“This one is for betraying my trust.” 

“This one is for being disrespectful to me.”

“This one is for spitting on my face.”

By the time Jungkook is finally over with the punishment, you’re dissolved into a complete mess of tears and snot, shaking and flinching at every movement you take. 

Your ass is literally on fire, the skin too sensitive to handle the punishment you just received. 

He pushes your limp body against his, forcing you into an unwanted hug. Jungkook presses a loving kiss to your sweaty forehead, humming as you cry. 

“You know that I didn’t want to do this, right? But you gave me no other option, love. If you had behaved, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s your own fault.” 

His tattooed hand gently pushes some hairs out of your wet cheek. 

“Hopefully you’ve learnt your lesson, babe. Cause I don’t mind repeating this punishment.” 

[latenightdaydreams]

Pretty please, May I request König finding the reader shoved in a corner having an anxiety attack?

My anxiety has been really bad this month, and I feel like if I got a really big hug and just be held to someone's chest so I could hear their heartbeat, it'd do me wonders 🥲I'm lame I know🥲

You're not lame at all! I'm sorry to hear that your anxiety has gotten worse this last month. I hope things begin to turn around for you💖 I'm sending you all the virtual hugs💖

Comfort!König x Reader

Fluff💗

Master List

>cw: anxiety attack

.

.

After getting no response from you while on his lunch break, he decided to just rush home to make sure that you’re okay. Upon opening the front door, he’s greeted with loud wails from upstairs. Moving as fast as he can, he climbs the stairs, skipping a few with every step.

“Schatz?”

König calls out as he opens the bedroom door to see you laying on the cold wooden floor with your hands on your face. Your body trembles as your breathing shudders. König instantly drops to his knees, reaching out with one hand to stroke your back. He rips his sniper hood off of his head and tosses it down.

“Schatzi. I’m here.” König keeps his voice steady while his heart is breaking seeing you like this.

“No! Go back to work.”

Your voice trembles as you cry out, too ashamed to even look at König. You’re aware he has taken off time from work to be here, making the guilt of needing him constantly weigh heavier on you.

“Baby, bitte. Come to me.”

König knows you don’t really want to push him away, but at the moment, you feel like a burden. Having PTSD himself, he genuinely understands you. He knows how it feels when the entire world seems to crash down around him, so he’s always promised to be your safe space to ground yourself. In no way does he ever view you as a burden. Work used to be his whole world, but now he has you. You’re more important.

“No! Go away!”

You scream out between sobs. As the anxiety builds, you move your hands to your ears in an attempt to block him out. Your head shakes back and forth as you struggle to catch your breath.

He looks down at you with a deep sorrow in his eyes. “Come to me, bitte.”

König gently scopes your body into his arms, not waiting for you to deny him again, moving you so effortlessly against his body. He stands with you and walks to the bed, sitting you on his lap. The warmth of his body helps relax you, allowing your body to melt into him. One hand grasps the fabric of his shirt as you bury your face in König’s chest.

While he has you on his lap, he cradles you gently. He gently kisses the top of your head and rocks you back and forth. You zero in on the rhythmic sound of König’s heart beating against your ear. His deep breaths move your body up and down. Slowly, you mimic his breathing, your body no longer trembling.

As König notices you beginning to relax, he speaks in a quiet voice, telling you how much you mean to him in a broken mix of German and English. The rumbles in his chest as he speaks adding to the calming effect König naturally offers you. He’s the home you’ve always needed but never found; until now.

“Schatzi, Ich bin hier.” He whispers again to you.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out small and broken.

“Never be sorry, you did nothing wrong.”

König tilts your head to face him. His pale blue eyes relax as you gaze into them, a small smile on his thin lips. Your beautiful lips and eyes are puffy from all the crying you’ve done today. He reaches out with one hand and wipes snot from your nose, rubbing it off on his pants. That gets a giggle out of you, causing König to chuckle along with you.

“Was?”

“That’s gross.”

“Nein, you’re my Schatz. Boogers don’t bother me.” He says in a playful tone.

After some giggles, there is a moment of silence between you two. His eyes slowly tracing over every detail on your face. He leans in and kisses your forehead, nose, and then lips. The kiss lingers for a moment before he quickly places another.

As he pulls back, he lets out a pleased hum. One of your hands reaches up to brush back his messy blonde hair as he gazes down at you.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too.” You say quietly.

“Is there anything you need right now, Schatzi?”

“Just this. Please.”

“Anything for you.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You enter your apartment. It doesn’t really feel like yours anymore. That man, that gargantuan invader, has tainted your safe space. You keep your head down as you brush by Sy. He reaches to squeeze your wrist and promptly lets you go. 

You cringe as you march stiffly down the entryway. 

“Thank you, officers,” he says, “sorry to trouble ya like this. You have a good one.” 

“You too, sir,” one responds, “hopefully your homecoming gets a bit warmer.” 

The door shuts and you flinch. You stop in the living room, shoulders sloped, head down. You can’t stop the shaking. You hear him coming as Aika sits obediently in the corner. You glance at the dog, you don’t think she can help, you don’t know that she would. She’s loyal to her owner. 

Sy stalks into the front room as you cower, wring your hands in front of your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you watch his shadow as he fumes and paces around. He exhales, small mutters you can’t discern. Circling around and around then suddenly stomping towards you. 

You whimper and your eyes flick up as you take a step back, eyes watery with fear. He stops, just an inch away, chest puffing with fury. You bat your lashes as you wait, for what, you don’t know. For him to do something, anything. 

“How could you hurt me like that, sweetie?” He hisses. 

“I... don’t know--” 

“You hide from me. Scare me, like that?” His voice rises, quaking as you hear him struggling to control it, “call the f—the cops?” 

He can’t keep his voice from booming. He’s so loud. Like thunder crashing down around you. 

“After all I did for you, you treat me like a monster. Actin’ all scared like I’d ever hurt you!” He snarls, “I wouldn’t, sweetie, and you know it. What did I ever do to make you think that, huh?” He starts to pace again, throwing his hands out as he rants, “I told you—I'm not a bad man! I’m not! I wouldn’t hurt you!” He barks as Aika puts her head down, eyes on her own, “but you hurt me. You. Hurt. Me.” 

He growls and his nostrils flare as he comes back around it front of you. You peek at him from beneath tear-webbed lashes. Your heart thrums in your ears and your chest thumps. He raises his hand and you wince as he smacks himself in the head. You cry out in horror as he does it again, each time harder than the last as he continues his angry prowl. 

“Sy!” You squawk. 

He snarls again and beats himself with both hands, “maybe I deserve it, huh? This is what you want. For me to hurt.” 

“No, I--” you heave as a sob bubbles up your throat. You don’t like violence. You never wanted this. You just want him gone. To be left alone. 

He roars and throws his fist around, hitting the flower lamp off the end table. It flies off and the cord snags, sending it shattering to the floor. You whine and put your knuckles to your lips, horrified as he continues his fit. He grabs the table next, hurling it with one hand as if it weighs nothing. The draw slips out and the continues scatter. 

He spins again, puffing and panting, his face red and furious. He storms towards the opposite wall and before you can understand what’s happening, he bashes his face against it. He staggers back, grips his head and blindly stumbles around. 

You stand, dumbfounded, as he falls onto the couch. He sits and hangs his head, gripping it between his large hands. He breathes loudly as he leans his elbows on his knees. Your tears spill out as you hug yourself and sniffle. 

You babble as you feel something against your leg. You look down as Aika nuzzles against you. You reach down to touch her snout. She licks your palm and you turn your attention back to Sy. You’ve never witnessed anything like that. You never ever wanted to hurt him. You pity him more than anything, he seems so lost. 

You suck in a breath and swipe the wetness from your cheeks. You drag your foot forward as Aika stays close. You back up and go through to the kitchen. You take a clean dishcloth from the drawer and wet it under the faucet. You’re buzzing with adrenaline. You don’t know what you’re doing. 

You cross the room to Sy as his breaths huff in and out. You can see the blood on his forehead as he nears. You hesitate, furling and unfurling your fingers before you touch his muscled shoulder. 

“Sy,” you say softly. 

He ignores you, fingertips curling into his skull, “so stupid...” you make out the words under his breath. 

You squeeze him as Aika pokes her head under his arms and noses him from below. He sits up and scratches her head. He wobbles as his foggy eyes come into focus. He looks at you, a gash on his forehead and another across the bridge of his nose. You try not to react as you offer the wet cloth. 

He considers it and takes it with a sigh. He dabs at the blood on his face as he watches you. You bring your palms together, rubbing them nervously, as you bounce on your feet. 

“Thanks,” he mutters as Aika nudges his hand for more pets. He looks between you and the dog, “I-- I’m sorry. I let you down. Both of you.” 

He stands up and you back away, folding your hands over your chest as you make yourself small. He holds the cloth against his nose and grunts. He scowls and turns away. You don’t move as he marches to the bathroom. The door snaps shut just as Aika reaches it. You hear the lock click. 

You bite your lip and slowly glance towards the entry way. You stare. You could try again but to what end. Blair wouldn’t let you back in after you brought that chaos into her world and the police won’t do anything more than blame you again. 

Maybe it is your fault. Sy means well... 

No, no! He doesn’t belong there. This is your life.  

Aika’s paws pad down the hall and she sits by the door. She knows what you’re thinking it seems. Doesn’t matter, you have nowhere to go and no one to go to. 

You pivot carefully, searching for a distraction. What can you do now? You’re too addled to sit down and work or even hide away in the bedroom under the covers. You walk a circle around the room and stop yourself. You look at the wall, a smear of blood and a dent left by his collision. 

You return to the kitchen and grab a paper towel. You come back to wipe away blood. When you get most of it out, you start to clean up the rest of the mess. The lamp is broken. You put the shards in a box and leave it by the door. Then you gather up the random pens and notebook and right the table before tucking it all back in the drawer. 

As you stand up, you hear another click. You peer over as Sy appears. His shirt is gone. The cuts on his face are no longer bleeding but his eyes are still blazing. You gulp as his jaw tenses. 

“I’m sorry I broke your lamp,” he utters dully. 

You wet your lips with your tongue, “Do you want some tylenol?” 

His eyebrows arch and his cheek ticks. He nods slowly, “yes, sweetie.” 

You try to smile and your mouth quivers. You retreat and go to fetch the bottle of pills and some water. When you come back, he’s on the couch again.  

“Head sure does hurt,” he says as he accepts the glass and the tablets. 

You hum and nod. He throws back the pills and drains half the glass. He set the cup down and leans back, once more holding his head. 

“Do you think... maybe you should see a doctor?” You suggest. 

“I’m fine,” he growls, “got worse over in the sh—in the war.” 

You scrunch up your lips and twiddle your fingers. He drops his hands and brings his head straight. You fidget as he takes you in, his eyes narrow and his expression pained. He waves you closer, “come here.” 

You stop moving. You’re completely still as you stare him. His brow lowers dangerously. You near him reluctantly, wary of riling him again. 

“I’m sorry I yelled, sweetie,” he takes your hand and leans forward to kiss your knuckles, “I was worked up. I thought—I was crazy. I thought I lost you, you know? But I get it. You wanted to see your friend and she... she put her nose in our business and called in the cops, huh? Jealous, I bet.” 

You blanch. That’s not the truth. That isn’t what happened at all. You won’t argue. 

“Yeah,” you let him cling to your hand, “I think she was just worried because she didn’t recognise you. I’m... I’m sorry.” 

He looks up at you and his lips curve, “I know you’re sorry, sweetie,” he tugs on you, “but we’re all good now, aren’t we? I got you, you got me, everything’s as it should be.” 

He moves you and you let him. You know better than to break the illusion again. He angles you onto his lap and your body locks up. He hugs you to him, a hand on your leg, his other arm across your back. He purrs as he holds you close, leaning back as the tension seeps from him. 

“Just like this, sug, me and you,” he grits. 

🧸

You escape Sy’s embrace for the excuse of making breakfast. The task helps you keep your fears at bay though his presence looms just on the other side of the wall. Your helplessness is starting to feel like acceptance as the last of your denial dissipates. This is real. You are trapped. 

You plate up a heaping plate of bacon and eggs. You scrape butter onto toast and bring it out to the table. You teethe your lip as you stand in the archway of the front room. 

“Food’s ready, Sy,” you squeak. 

He sits up and groans as he stretches. He stands, towering over you as he looks even broader without his shirt. Somehow you keep forgetting how big he really is. 

He crosses the room and you scurry back to the kitchen. You hear him pull the chair out as you grab your leftover french toast and bring it out. You’re not very hungry, in fact you feel sick to your stomach. Still, you know you have to play along. 

That sound, the one of his head hitting the plaster, keeps replaying in your head. You hate it. As much as he scares you, as much as he’s a stranger, you don’t want to be the reason he’s hurt. You stare at your plate glumly as you cut into the cold eggy bread. 

“Thank you, sweetie,” he undercuts your gloom with his bright tone, “sure smells good.” 

You glance up, poking at the toast with your fork, “sorry, all I had was turkey bacon.” 

“S’all good,” he tears a strip in half and takes a bite. 

You muster a smile and drop your gaze back to your food. You take a bite of the stale, syrupy bread. You chew mechanically, bite by bite, and choke it all down. You think of how he might react if you let the food go to waste. He paid for it after all. At least the berries add a bit of flavour. 

“You should make a video today,” he says abruptly. 

Your eyes flick up and you blink, “oh, uh, maybe not today--” 

“Your followers will be wanting to check in, won’t they? You can’t leave them hanging.” 

“Um, well, I’ll think about it later---” 

“You know, sweetie, like I said, you got me through some tough days. You’re all I had out there. Who knows, maybe there’s others who feel the same, you know?” He scoops up eggs on his fork and hovers them over the plate, “and you’re special. The world needs more of you.” 

“Thanks, er, I’m just... tired is all.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t snuck out to the couch, huh?” He challenges. 

You’re surprised by the admonishment. You wince and give a shrug, “yeah, I guess--” 

“I could help ya with the video. We could do something fun. Maybe... we could go for a walk with Aika. She loves the wilderness. Specially when there aren’t bombs hidin’.” 

You look down guiltily. You don’t blame him for wanting out of his old life. For being so excited to be away from the chaos. And you feel worse because you’ve taken all you have for granted. Each time he talks, he reminds you of your ignorance. 

“I guess... that sounds nice,” you sniff. 

“Sounds perfect to me,” he swallows his mouthful, “walking around with my girls, showing ‘em off.” He grins, “couldn’t ask for anything more.” 

[skyward-floored]

HEY @thepinklink HERE IS YOUR PROMISED LEGEND WHUMP! I hope you were able to get some sleep last night despite the evil cockroach. I would come get rid of it for you if I could but I hope this at least makes your day better 💖

...

Wild hated thunder blades.

He never used to— in fact, they used to be one of his favorite weapons he’d find. They were great for quickly incapacitating monsters, especially if you were trying to steal weapons, and their attack power wasn’t bad either, which made them great in Wild’s book.

But that was before he’d seen Legend get stabbed straight through the shoulder with one.

His scream was oddly clear through the cacophony of the battle, and Wild heard at least one person yell Legend’s name in a panic. He shot a stalfos through the head, and cast this gaze around for the veteran, gasping as he caught sight of him.

A moblin had somehow managed to stab Legend straight through his shoulder, its weapon a thunderblade, of course, and it’s face twisted in an ugly grin as its sword pumped electricity through the veteran.

Wild dove off of his perch, shooting the moblin that had gotten the lucky hit in straight through its skull.

It died with a snarl, and Wild bolted across the battlefield, his boots sloshing through the marshy area they’d been fighting in.

“Legend,” he gasped as he arrived, and the veteran managed to meet his eyes before another jolt of electricity spasmed through him, making him scream.

Wild lunged for the hilt of the sword and yanked, not even thinking about how he should probably leave it in. Legend cried out, but no matter how hard Wild tugged, the blade wouldn’t come out.

The moblin had slammed it deep into Legend’s shoulder, almost up to the hilt. It had gone straight into the tree behind Legend, and was now keeping him pinned there, all while electricity continued to shoot through his veins.

Wild let go of the sword, mind going into overdrive as Legend continued to writhe in place. He had to get the blade out, that was the immediate problem, but Legend’s continuing screams were making it hard to focus on anything except the need to help him now.

The charge of the blade couldn’t last forever though, and suddenly Legend’s screams died, the veteran slumping as much as he could.

“Legend?” Wild asked frantically, and he managed to raise his head, still trembling from leftover electricity.

“G-get it out,” he croaked, and if Wild hadn’t known better, he would almost think the words ended with a bit of a sob.

“Yeah, I know, I know I’m thinking Legend, I can’t pull it out by myself,” Wild said, pushing his brain to think of a solution. The thunderblade was still recharging, but he had less than a minute until it replenished itself and it was full of electricity again.

Legend was barely conscious now. Wild wasn’t sure what yet another bout of electrocution would do to him.

A shout came from behind, and Wild whirled around just in time to see Sky kill a monster that had been about to sneak up on him. He nodded a quick thanks, and Sky’s face went pale as he saw Legend pinned to the tree.

“Oh Hylia, Vet,” he gasped, and joined Wild’s side immediately. “We have to get him out!”

“It’s in so deep I can’t pull it out” Wild reported miserably, still trying to think of something else they could do. “It’s stuck too, I don’t know if even the Rancher could get it out.”

Legend clawed a jittery hand at the weapon, face agonized, and Sky took his hand, giving it a bracing squeeze.

“Easy Vet, we’re working on it,” he soothed, running his fingers over his palm. Legend didn’t relax much, but he looked a little less frantic at the contact, holding Sky’s hand in return.

Wild watched him, thinking through the blade, the tree, what gear he and Sky had...

And then suddenly he had an idea.

“Wait, I think I can get it out!” Wild realized, and he yanked out his slate, scrolling through the options with fingers he wished were steady.

Warriors ran up to them as he scrolled, blood running down his neck. Sky gave him a look, but he ignored it as he knelt beside Legend, eyes darting calculatingly over the veteran.

“I have a potion, but we’ll have to get that out first,” he said, and Wild nodded, finally getting his slate set to the magnesis rune.

“I think I have a way. It won’t be the prettiest, but it should work. The electricity is about to kick back in though, I don’t know if—”

He hadn’t even finished speaking when the blade turned bright yellow again, and the pain in Legend’s eyes turned to pure fear.

Then yellow-green electricity tore across his body and he screamed, back arching as it seized him again.

“Stand back!” Wild shouted, and Sky and Warriors listened, though neither of them looked like they wanted to pull away from the thrashing veteran.

Wild locked on to the blade’s metal, praying this would work, and didn’t wait a second longer.

He gave his slate a harsh yank, and magnesis tore the blade from Legend’s shoulder with a gut-churning sound of metal through flesh. Legend screamed again, but the sound was weaker as Sky and Warriors ran forward to catch him, body collapsing in a bloody, jittering heap.

Wild flung the sword into the bushes, then ran to their sides, Legend’s shoulder bleeding violently, his limbs still jerking with electricity.

“Easy Vet, it’s okay,” Sky soothed, his voice remarkably steady while Warriors tried to staunch the bleeding. Legend thrashed against their hold, eyes wide and panicked, and Wild moved to help the two hold him down.

Warriors directed Sky to the potion in his bag, and Wild flinched as Legend let out a very un-Legend-like whimper.

“Legend, you need to drink this,” Sky coaxed as he uncorked the potion. “Can you do that?”

The veteran didn’t reply, eyes half-lidded, breathing erratic. He choked on a shaky breath, the sound more like a sob, and Wild took his hand, trying to meet his eyes.

“His heartbeat’s off,” Warriors noted grimly, Legend gasping when he tightened his grip on his shoulder. “He needs to drink that potion, now.”

Wild nodded and took the potion from Sky, the other knight carefully tilting Legend’s head up and holding it still. He pressed the glass to Legend’s lips, carefully pouring some of it into his mouth, and Sky rubbed two fingers on his throat in order to coax him to swallow.

Legend sputtered, but some must have gone down since his eyes brightened a little. He leaned forward just a bit, and Wild helped him slowly drink more of the potion, emptying it more than half before he went limp in Sky’s hold.

“Legend?!” Wild asked frantically, and Warriors waved a hand, calming him.

“He’s okay, he’s okay. That was enough. His shoulder’s going to need attention, but that fixed most of the electrocution issues,” he sighed, running a hand through Legend’s sweaty bangs. “I’m impressed he stayed conscious that long.”

Wild nodded, his brain suddenly registering the sharp smell of blood and burnt flesh in the air. He swallowed, fighting down the urge to gag, and squeezed Legend’s hand again, his screams still echoing in his ears.

Sky looked similarly queasy and shaken, but he helped Warriors pull Legend’s layers away so they could bandage the much shallower wound in his shoulder anyway.

Wild did what he could to help, but Sky and Warriors were already doing the legwork. All he could really do was hold Legend’s hand, and hold him still when a tremble ran through him.

Warriors and Sky finally finished, and Sky pulled Legend up into his arms, the veteran still horribly pale. The battle had ended while they’d worked, and the others gathered around Sky, Hyrule and Twilight especially persistent in their checking that Legend was okay.

Wild stood back a few paces, feeling relieved, but also... still nauseated.

Legend’s head flopped bonelessly against Sky’s shoulder as Hyrule tilted it to look at his eyes, and Wild swallowed, his own heart still pounding from the franticness of the past several minutes.

“He’ll be okay, Champion,” Warriors assured from beside him, his voice quiet. “That was some quick thinking with your slate.”

“Thanks,” Wild replied, though his heart wasn’t in it. Legend had still spent a long time with an electric blade piercing his shoulder and pinning him to a tree, and the memory of his screams made him shudder. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Legend always seemed tense when it came to thunderstorms— Wild could only guess because of the lightning. Which made the whole thing even worse.

Warriors squeezed his shoulder, and Wild breathed out, leaning into the touch a little.

He looked over at Legend again, and though the veteran’s face was pained even in unconsciousness, he was already looking a little less pale. Sky ran a slow hand over his head as Hyrule checked him, and gently thumbed away the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Wild exhaled again, trying to calm his heart. Legend would be fine.

...he really, really hoped so.

[digitaldiarystuff]

Disappointed

hi guyss (shy emoji) hope you missed me because i missed you! it looks like ruben is going for the win so enjoy 💖

————

pairing: Ruben Dias x Y/N

summary: Ruben recently ended things with you claiming he’s not ready for a relationship and as much as it hurt, you accepted but everything changed after a photo of him was leaked at the airport

genre: angst

————

‘Love Island star Arabella Chi and Man. City’s Dias appear to confirm romance’ you read The Sun’s story with a blank expression. But unfortunately your emotionless wasn’t because you didn’t care about the news, it was because of the shock you were feeling.

“Oh fuck no. He’s got to be joking!” you heard Julie, your work bestie say after she saw the title. She rolled her chair next to yours and examined your face to see a reaction but you were still glued to the screen with no visible emotion.

“Y/N, babe, are you okay?” she asked concerned.

Your head was pounding to the point you had to place your hands on the sides of your head to try to make it go away but nothing worked.

“I- I need a cigarette.” you mumbled, more to yourself reaching for your bag. You were trying your hardest to quit but in a situation like this, you couldn’t care less.

Julie warily watched your state wondering if she should come with or let you be and decided to stay at the desk giving you space. You stepped on the balcony of your workplace to calm yourself.

The news about Ruben and a reality star going on a romantic getaway was too much for you. You reached into your bag to find your pack with slightly shaky hands and lit the cigarette between your lips. Ruben hated that you smoked, he always tried to convince you to replace your bad habit with a good one but no amount of smoking would hurt you as much as seeing him go public with someone else a week later you broke off contact.

As wrecked as you were, you had to go back into the office eventually. You couldn’t just leave or stay on the balcony for hours without your supervisor noticing and you certainly didn’t feel like getting scolded at today. You begrudgingly went back in and quickly ran to the bathroom, the only upside of all of this mess was that you weren’t crying. Your body froze to the point that your tears wouldn’t fall.

When you returned to the desk, you saw Julie already closed the tab which you were thankful for. Everyone around you gave you worried looks but you couldn’t even notice. Surprisingly, you buried yourself into work for the rest of the day and didn’t leave your desk once, it was now time to clock out.

“Let’s get something to eat, you haven’t eaten all day.” Julie suggested.

“I appreciate your concern but I think I’m just going to go home now Jules.” you said but she was giving you the sad puppy eyes. “I’m okay, you don’t have to worry.”

“But”

“But nothing, have a great night.” you smiled and went to your way. As soon as you stepped foot into your home you were greeted by your puppy, Yoda. You kneeled down to pet her and just then the waterworks began running. You started sobbing and barely made it to the couch to gain some balance, feeling at home made you miss him so much more. Just weeks ago you were sitting on the same couch with Ruben just enjoying a date night and now here you were not even being able to get time off work to drown in your sorrow while he was at Paris with another woman. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach and ran to the bathroom.

After some time, you grabbed a cup of water and sat with Yoda with dried tear stains on your face. Everything in you told you not to, but you couldn’t help yourself and started reading the news and tiktoks made about the leaked pictures. The gossip pages claimed Ruben reached out to her through instagram and they started dating, no one knew for how long they’ve been together but you knew it had to start before you broke up, if you can call it that.

You were adamant from the start, you didn’t do friends with benefits or fuckbuddies. If you were going to be with someone, you would want stability. It didn’t have to be labeled but it had to be exclusive, so naturally, when you met Ruben you were hesitant. You heard about the footballer’s lifestyle but it had been him who tried pursuing you, sent you flowers everyday, shown up at the places you were at and tried to make you give him a shot and you did. You stupidly fell for it.

Everything was going great, you were falling more and more everyday and he appeared the same so you tried talking about your feelings, the first time he shut down completely. You figured this must be hard for him and backed off. The second time, you started arguing because he wasn’t giving you the answers you needed and dodged them but the last time both of you snapped. It was vicious, you were shouting at each other. He claimed you were smothering him and being controlling and you accused him of using you and being dismissive. The night ended with you slamming the door and exiting his house, leaving the key he gave you for emergencies on the console.

And a week after that, he was seen with someone and didn’t feel like he was hiding at all while he’d keep you behind closed doors throughout the months you’ve spent together.

A week had passed since that day and you were doing better. You still felt the emptiness and sudden rushes of emotion but you composed yourself and still went to work. You also stopped checking socials for any news because you couldn’t read one more thing about their romance but today was a hard day to escape Ruben. It was Man City match day so everyone was wearing their blue shirts and scarfs while you tried to get past people to run errands. You also saw his face on a giant ad on the side of a building but quickly moved past.

While out, you also got 2 bottles of red wine because you wanted to drink a little to feel better but a little quickly turned more and more. Currently you were sitting on your fluffly beige rug leaning your back against your couch. You shook the first bottle in your hand trying to see if there’s any wine in it, there wasn’t. Groaning, you picked up the remote and opened the tv and the first thing you saw was that City had won. You cursed Ruben for getting everything right, but not you.

Before your mind can comprehend what you’re doing, you opened your texting app and sent him a message. Your eyes were watery and vision blurry but you didn’t care, you were beyond angry. Soon you were dozing off slowly with your head on the sofa cushions but were woken with the voice of keys coming from your front door. You froze for a second looking for a sharp object to protect yourself from a possible break in and picked up the empty wine bottle and stood up. Your heart was beating so fast as you approached the door, fully expecting a burglar in front of you but instead, it was Ruben standing there with your keys in his hands.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa” he said flinching.

“Ruben?” you said incredibly confused and slightly relieved. “What are you doing here?”

“I- um, you sent me a text and it was really weird I just wanted to check up on you.” he said.

“And you had to do it with my keys, couldn’t you just knock?” you angrily asked. You were convinced someone was here to hurt you.

“I’m sorry, I just, didn’t know if you’d open the door if you knew it was me.” you sighed loudly thinking it’s probably right.

“I’m sorry are you still planning to hit me?” he asked.

“Why?” you asked confused.

“You still have the bottle ready to be smashed on my head.” he pointed at it and you only now realized you never lowered your hand, still holding it up.

“Oh” you just said and placed the bottle on the counter.

You both stood there for a while not saying anything.

“So, how are you?”

You looked up at him, trying to decide whether to fight or not. Maybe it was the wine in you but you just didn’t have the energy to argue, you were hurt beyond repair but fighting meant getting into it and you couldn’t.

“I’m alright.” you said after a while. “How about you?”

“I’m also alright, thank you.”

“Look Ruben-

“Y/N I think we-

You both spoke at the same time.

“You go.” he politely said.

“Ruben thank you for checking on me but I was very drunk I mean I don’t even know what I wrote. Don’t worry I’m okay.” you said calmly. You couldn’t understand how you’re this calm but maybe this was your acceptance phase.

“I mean, to be honest, I also don’t know what you wrote.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

He pulled out his phone and started reading the text out loud.

“Rubem I habe everythong I wish I was necer yor wagfln. I think it’s Ruben I hate everything I wish I was never your waffle but don’t ask me what waffle means because no idea.”

You started laughing without realizing this is the first time you genuinely laughed this whole week. He joined and you sat on your bar stools trying to decipher your text.”

“No I think it’s ‘you’re wagging’

“Why would you tell me I’m wagging? Was I wagging on the field today?” he asked faking being offended.

“Maybe you were, that’s what the drunk lady thought.”

You sat there laughing uncontrollably at your stupidity for a while when suddenly you felt thirsty.

“You want some wine?” you asked him.

“You know I shouldn’t.” he said but it was obvious he’d love some wine.

“That never stopped you.” you didn’t mean it like a jab but it still sounded like it.

You felt the air shift but didn’t want that, even if this was wrong it felt so in place and right that you didn’t want to end up in a fight. You were feeling like yourself again and as pathetic as it sounds, hoped he wouldn’t leave.

You poured two glasses of wine and started talking about anything and everything, you told him about your supervisor getting on your nerves and he filled you in about Kyle Walker’s situation but the topic never came to you and you hoped it wouldn’t. After some more glasses you were back to being drunker than drunk and Ruben was full on tipsy. He never admitted to it but you knew he was lightweight.

“Omg it’s 3 am I have to be at work in exactly 6 hours.” you winced thinking about the hangover you’ll feel tomorrow.

When Ruben didn’t respond, you looked up at him and found him already looking at you with an intense gaze.

“What?” you asked. “Is there something on my face?”

He just smiled and leaned in. You should back off, you should back off, you should back off your logical side tried to reming you but your body had other thoughts. You leaned in so much that your noses were touching now.

“Ruben” you whispered as a last attempt to stop yourself and him because you knew the moment his lips were on yours it was game over. It always was, your sexual tension was always there but he didn’t stop, instead crashed his lips into yours for a hungry kiss. It was a messy kiss full of unspoken feelings. Everything you couldn’t tell each other was a part of it but you couldn’t stop. You mentally tried but it was a lost battle, your body acted before you could think and you placed your hands in his hair meanwhile he held you by your waist and walked you to your bedroom without breaking the kiss.

You stopped kissing him when the backs of your legs hit the bed.

“Ruben we shouldn’t.” you pleaded once more but weren’t strong enough to protest for long. His eyes turned darker with every passing second and were boring into your soul. Every part of you wanted him, needed him and you knew he felt the same.

“I’ve missed you so much querida.” he mumbled and took his shirt off while sitting you down. You couldn’t help but stare, he was so beautiful and you were getting wetter by the second but he hadn’t even touched you.

This time you took the leap and pulled him onto the bed, once he was on you straddled him and started running your lips on his collarbone and the back of his ear. Your logic was already out of the window and you were left with your undeniable desire for Ruben. He was letting out some quiet moans and you couldn’t believe a man could sound so angelic.

The next morning you woke up to the sound of your alarm with a horrible headache, every part of your body was sore and you felt even more restless than the night before. You swung the duvet off your body but stopped when you felt someone next to you. You froze when you realized what happened last night and saw Ruben peacefully sleeping in the bed with you. Your memory started coming back in bits and pieces and you mentally face palmed yourself for letting this happen. He was in a relationship and you shouldn’t have done this, you were feeling horrible and your stomach dropped. You quickly gathered your clothes and hopped in and out of the shower.

After you got ready in the bathroom you slowly walked in your bedroom, a part of you was expecting him to be gone but the other part wanted him there forever. You were conflicted and still had to go to work quickly. You thought about waking him up but were afraid to confront Ruben so you slowly took your bag and exited your home leaving him in there.

You didn’t think you could feel worse than yesterday but turns out, everything is possible.

————

thisss turned out so different than what i had in mind but i love ittt! as always any feedback is appreciated take care loves💕💕